#from a completely different angle. its not a story about stories its a story about choics

[ialwaysknewyouwerepunk]

.

[lilydvoratrelundar]

the thing about loki 2021 is that its really fuckin good but not in any of the ways that the loki comics are really fuckin good. and the loki comics are better. go read the loki comics.

[goldenbuckyyy]

LOVER

Summary: An inside look into the happily ever after between you and Draco that is well deserved.

Pairings: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Word count: 2.3kish

Warnings: SMUT (!!), raw sex, synchronized orgasms, slight dirty talk, cream pie, making out, established relationship.. anything else?! Let me know!!

A/N: I had always been wanting to write this little epilogue for my favorite little story, Heather. Please read my previous post which is just an explanation into why I hadn’t posted in a while! I hope you enjoy this. Title inspo: “Lover” by Taylor Swift.

All mistakes are my own. Please do not repost or translate my fics on any other side nor this one. 

I appreciate any likes, reblogs, messages, and interactions. Please message me your thoughts! Love reading them. 🫶🏻

Story Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“Shhhh, baby. You gotta be quiet,” your husband rasps into your neck, his deep voice sending goosebumps loose all over your skin, as he licks a small strip up to your chin as he proceeds to nibble on your bottom lip. His warm, soft hands touching your skin which makes you feel like you're burning underneath him. 

You clench your eyes together to try and make sense of all of the different sensations you’re currently feeling. 

A strangled moan chokes its way out of the back of your throat as he angles his hips upwards to go in deeper as you instinctively wrap one of your legs around his waist to give him better access. Your hands touch his soft skin around his waist as you hold onto him, gripping tightly into his flesh. 

Your bodies synching together like they always have. Even after all these years. No amount of time would ever come close to being enough. You’re always going to want more. 

More. More. More. 

Your husband steals your moans as he covers your mouth with his own, his lips moving against yours softly, and your arms wrap around his neck to pull him into you. One of your hands moves into his hair, tugging at the roots gently as his own hands move to grip onto your hips, and you both start moving together. Speeding up when you start feeling the familiar ache in your lower belly. 

You both pull away from each other's necks, smiling when you both notice the same reflexes, and you reach up to kiss your husband's sweet mouth once more. His thrusting only grows rougher and deeper, but still moves with caution and it makes your entire body erupt in chills as you both moan into each other's mouth when you climax together. 

Always together. 

Your toes curl into the bed as your husband continues to thrust into you, spilling himself completely into your warmth, and you peck his lips a couple times as he leans his forehead against yours. Both letting out loud pants and small giggles. A cheeky grin overtakes his face as his eyelashes flutter against his creamy skin. 

His beautiful silver eyes meet yours as he kisses the tip of your nose and then he slowly pulls out of you which makes you whine at the loss of contact and he flips down next to you. He chuckles deeply as he rubs his chest, which is moving rapidly as he comes down from his orgasm, and his fingers brush against your breast. 

His fingers caress your naked skin around your chest, “God, I love you. I love how we’re still in sync even after all this time.” 

“So do I,” you whisper back sweetly to him as you reach over to him to kiss his cheek, which makes him flush like he always does, and you slowly start getting off the bed. You use the bedside table to steady yourself as you stand up. 

“It’s starting already?” He yells after you as you speed walk into the master bathroom that you are so incredible thankful for at this second because you feel like your bladder is about to burst. 

“Shush,” you exclaim back with a giggle as you proceed to finally sit down on the toilet and have yourself a wee. Your entire body relaxes at the feeling and you look down at your protruding belly. 

Three months to go. 

You reach over to grab your belly oil and rub it all over your stomach as you relax for a second. You almost jump off the seat when you hear your husband's voice from the door. 

“You’re a sight, my love.” 

“Draco!” You exclaim with an eye roll as you watch him watching you. He stands against the bathroom door, leaning against it, still naked, and you let yourself take in his body in its full glory. 

You take a minute to admire his muscular posture with his lean frame. You admire his creamy, milky skin which is covered in bruises. Which were caused by your mouth. Always leaving them everywhere because you absolutely loved to mark him up. You always made sure they were in places that could be hidden underneath his Auror robes. 

He still brought up the one time you accidentally marked him above the collar mark and everybody teased him for weeks until it faded away. Especially since Draco never used glamour charms on his skin. 

You admire his long legs with his equally long torso and you loved how tall he was. He always made you feel safe and secure in his arms. You lick your own lips as your eyes land on his valuable member. 

Your stomach tingles as he slowly strokes himself, still a bit hard for your morning activities, and you let out a laugh. 

“Stop it,” you demand as you clean yourself up and proceed to wash your hands. You stare at him from the mirror with a small smile. 

“Stop what?” He questions with a smirk as he goes to the toilet to do his own business. 

“I’m already pregnant with your sixth offspring because of that thing!” Your eyes looking wide at his cock in his hands. 

Draco lets out a loud, belly laugh that makes the corner of his eyes crinkle as he cleans himself up. “Technically it’s only your fifth pregnancy!”

“Don’t act like you don’t absolutely love it,” he whispers as he places a big kiss into your warm cheek causing you to giggle again. 

You leave him be as you walk into your shared walk in closet. You pull over a matching pair of baby blue knickers and a soft bralette. You wiggle your way into your comfiest pair of black leggings and soft knit white jumper. You slip your feet into your fuzzy gray slippers and start making your way down the hallway. Your ears are perking up trying to hear any signs that your kids are up.  

You start making breakfast the muggle way, thanks to Hermoine for teaching you, and you’re humming along to a song when the first sign of life invades your senses. 

You feel small hands sneak up on your belly as you smile brightly, pausing as you mix the eggs, and look down at bright gray eyes looking up at you. 

“Good morning, mummy!” Your little five year old daughter, Aries, whispers as she shows off her bright toothy smile. 

You bend to kiss her forehead as she giggles, “Good morning, my little angel. Where’s your brother?” 

She rubs your belly lightly as she then skips to her usual chair around the family table, “Brushing his teeth, mummy.” 

“Did you brush yours already?” You ask with a raised eyebrow and she giggles even louder. 

“Duh, mummy!!” 

Right on time, Aries' twin brother Phoenix, comes running down the hallway.. excessively loud and giggling as your oldest ten year old son, Scorpius is chasing after him. Your seven year old, Leo, is walking behind them slowly. Yawning and rubbing his eyes lazily as he trails into his seat at the table as he moans out a good morning to you and blows you an air kiss. 

“Be careful!!” You yell after them as Aries only watches them with a smile on her face as you continue cooking breakfast. You hear louder footsteps as Draco comes into the kitchen, ready for the day in his Head Auror robes, and holding your three year old daughter in his arms. 

He reaches you, pecking your lips sweetly as if you didn’t just spend the morning wrapped around him, and lets you kiss Lyra’s soft cheek as she smiles at you. Her tiny hand touches your hair slightly. 

Her eyes that match yours watch you as Draco walks away from you and tries to wrangle up all the kids for breakfast before he has to leave for work. 

The kids are all yelling, moving, and proceeding to sit in their favorite seats. You and Draco proceed to move in sync together as you both gather plates for the kids. Moving to fill each with cut up pancakes, scrambled eggs, cut up strawberries, and each kid getting their favorite drinks. You quickly make Lyra a yogurt bowl with extremely small slices of strawberries on the side and a cup of her favorite milk. 

Bumping hips and sneakily smiling at each other. 

Draco starts handing each one of your shared kids their own special plate and drink as you make your own plate along with your husbands. 

You set the plates down as you hand Draco’s hot coffee that’s under a stasis charm as he hands you a thankful smile and passes you your own cinnamon tea in your mug. 

The room is soon filled with loud children talking.  Scorpius and Leo arguing about what to do today after daddy gets home. Debating on if they should play quidditch or have a family movie night since it’s Friday. Which means daddy gets the weekend off. Aries and Phoenix are munching on their breakfast loudly and making silly faces at each other which causes them to giggle excessively at each other. Lyra sits in her high chair as she observes her siblings with a silly little smile on her face and trying her best to eat her yoghurt with her tiny pink spoon. 

Draco feeds her small bites of his own pancakes as Lyra happily accepts them. 

“What are your plans today, baby?” 

You hum as you finish your bite of food, “Hermoine and Pansy are coming over today. They say they want help with the wedding planning, but I think they’re having godchildren withdrawal.” 

Draco snickers at that with a slight eye roll, “Of course they are. Our children are the best.” 

You smile at him, “So, Pansy told Theo and now he’s coming over with the kids as well.” 

Draco nodded his head, “I’m sure Potter is happy about that.” 

“Anything to get Theo away from his nesting habits and begging Harry for another baby,” you say with a soft smile as you think of your best friends. 

Draco scoffs and rolls his eyes playfully, “I’m sure his baby fever will end once he sees your pregnant belly and our adorable Lyra. Didn’t they just adopt baby Sirius?” 

“Baby Sirius is going to be four already! Then Lily and James are already Scorpius age. Theo is just scared of empty nesting, but Harry says he wants to wait until this big case he’s dealing with passes.” 

Draco hums in agreement, “I wish we were like that.” And he proceeds to give you a soft teasing smile.  

You poke him with your fork and shake your head, “We have kids basically every two years, these twin girls are the last ones!” You eye him with an authoritative look. 

“Anything you say, my love.” 

“Do you think Hermoine and Pansy will ever adopt or have kids of their own?” You ask as you watch Lyra to make sure she’s eating. Draco doesn’t miss the tone of your voice at your question. 

“You’ve noticed the way Hermoine looks at your belly, huh?” 

“I have,” you reply softly. “It’s just.. Pansy always says she’s okay with just being a godmother, but ‘Min…” you trail off with a sad smile. 

Draco reaches over to your hand and squeezes, “I understand, trust me. Maybe get a second with Granger and just talk to her about what we’ve noticed.” 

“Maybe. I don’t want to overstep,” you say as you sip your drink. Scorpius is the first one that finishes eating and he quickly thanks you for breakfast with a kiss on your cheek as he moves to start washing the dishes. You admire your first born for a second and can’t help but love how much he looks like his father and how big he’s gotten. 

The same milky white skin with bright pale hair and even with the same matching gray eyes. His exact copy. Oh, you can’t help but tear up at how much you love your first baby boy. The first baby that made you a mother and taught you about a mothers love. 

The one who made you want a million more babies. 

Leo and Phoenix soon start helping clean up the plates as Draco helps Lyra get cleaned up. Aries helps him as you use your magic to clean up the table and Lyra’s high chair. 

You hum in contentment as you proceed to kiss the cheeks of all your kids. Scorpius blushes, Leo kisses you back, Phoenix and Aries giggle, and Lyra pulls you in to attack you with kisses and hugs. Draco soon jumps into all the loving before he has to floo to work. 

Draco piles all the kids into his arms as he squeezes them into his arms and then tells them to go play before their cousins come over. 

He gently pulls you into his arms as one of his hands slips underneath your jumper to rub your belly as he kisses your lips sweetly. The feeling of his lips on your sends sparks all over your body like it always does and you savor his taste. 

“I love you,” you whisper into him as he smiles against your lips. 

“I love you more,” he whispers back with a couple more pecks against your smiling mouth. 

“Be careful and I’ll see you soon,” you kiss your lips one more time as he steps into the fireplace. 

“Always am, my love. And I’ll be counting down the minutes,” he says with a wink as he grabs a handful of floo powder and calls out his location. He bursts into green flames and your hearing soon fills with the sounds of your children’s giggles and loud voices playing together.  

You take a moment to take it all in. 

Loving the same boy… now man for as long as you can remember. The amazing life you both have built. It was never easy and there have been many hardships, but it was incredibly worth it. 

What a beautiful life you both had built slips into your mind as you smile to yourself in pure bliss. 

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

Oh GOD, a crazy idea came into my head. What would happen if each of these five men faced the problem of an unexpectedly broken bed during rough sex?? How would they react and what would they do? i'm terrible...

Literally laughed out loud at this one. Thank you🤣🤭 Hope this does your request justice!

PS: literally got second hand embarrassment writing this

141 + König Breaking their GN! Partners Bed

Warnings: This is trash, smut, cursing

Simon "Ghost" Riley-

You were bouncing up on down on Simon's cock, your hole swallowing his shaft entirely with each movement.

Simon could tell your body was starting to weaken, and decided he'd take the initiative to help you find your release.

He'd flipped you over, so that he was on top, trapping you in a missionary pose.

Lining himself up with your entrance, he began pounding into you with a brutal speed.

Evidently, the bed was not made to withstand the amount of force that Simon was emitting, as he was practically fucking you into the mattress.

Mid thrust, the beds legs had completely given out, causing your mattress to go tumbling to the ground in the middle of the bed frame.

The two of you grew very quiet as you both took in what just happened. You looked up at him and saw a small smile forming on his lips before letting out a fit of giggles.

"Think it's funny, do ya?" He asked, chuckling. He kissed your brow before returning his lips to your neck.

"Simon, its broken!" You managed to get out in between giggles. "We can't continue like this!"

"Say's who? 'S fine, needed a new one anyways. " He smirked as he continued his movements, still wholly intent on still having you each find your release. He sure wasn't about to let a broken bed prevent him from making you feel good.

"Johnny "Soap" MacTavish-

Johnny wasn't one to be rough in bed much. The two of you often having your rough sex in the shower.

He'd woken you late in the night one night, as he was beyond sexually frustrated, and his fist just wasn't enough.

With your legs wrapped around his waist, and his arms tightly gripping your headboard, Johnny was pounding into you at a brutal pace.

His grip on the headboard had tightened, and just as he had almost reached his high, the headboard had snapped in half underneath his grip.

Soap immediately stopped his movements, staring on in shock at the piece of broken wood in his hands.

"Jolly." He cursed, looking down to find you staring at him with wide eyes.

"Did you just break our bed...Johnny?" You asked, a hint of a smile forming on your face.

"I uh.. I think I did, lass." He slowly pulled himself out of you, and set the piece of wood on the floor. He was about to turn and mumble his apologies when he heard a loud cackle come from you. "Darlin?"

"YOU BROKE OUR BED!" You hollered, unable to control your laughter.

Johnny gave a sheepish glance to you, and rubbed his hand along his mohawk in embarrassment. "I'm so sorry, I'll get us a new one."

"Don't bother, this is a hilarious story to tell people when they come visit. Oh hey, why is half your headboard missing? Oh, yeah Johnny fucked me so hard he broke it!." You doubled over in laughter, causing a smile to form on Johnny's lip, as he too started to chuckle.

The bed did in fact remain there, and you and he never could get through telling the story to your friends without laughing.

John Price-

Price was always one for rough sex. The man craved it. He loved seeing his marks littering your body, and hearing your desperate moans for him to go harder.

Tonight was no different, and you and John were in bed, his hand fisting your hair, while thrusting into you from behind.

"F-uuck. Feels so good, love." He'd groaned, feeling you clench around him

He'd put more pressure in his knees, so he was able to ground himself better, the movement causing a CRACK to come from your bed.

John's brows furrowed in concern, before the end of the bed collapsed on the floor, causing the mattress to fall at an angle.

John had fallen backward at the impact, losing his balance and landing on his ass with a thud.

"John!" You cried, turning yourself around to see your husband on the floor, laughing hysterically.

He threw his head back in laughter, causing you to laugh yourself. "I am so sorry about that love. Can't say that's ever happened to me before."

The two of you laughed together, as john moved to stand up, inspecting the damage that was done. The bed was destroyed, the foot board beyond repair.

"What do you say we go to Ikea, pick out a new one yeah?" He asked, helping you off the broken bed. You nodded your head eagerly, catching your breath from your laughter.

Later that night, once your new bed was put together, Price made damn sure to put it to the test.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick-

Kyle had a tough day at work, nothing was going his way. From spilling coffee on himself, to shutting his finger in the car door, he was convinced the world was out to get him.

He was in serious need of a stress reliever, and was over the moon when you'd taken him to the bedroom once he walked in the door.

Kyle had you in missionary, and was jutting into you in a frenzied pace, desperately seeking his release

He'd evidently put too much pressure on the one side of the bed, because a loud cracking noise filled the room.

The post on the right side of your bed had split, causing the bed to shift at an angle, sending the two of you tumbling off the side of the bed.

You'd landed on Kyle with a THUD, the two of you on the landing on the floor next to the now broken bed.

Kyle's eyes widened as he looked over to the bed, and looked back to you, about to mumble his apologies.

You bit your lip to stifle a laugh. You knew he had a really bad day, and presumed laughing at this would only make it worse.

Kyle sat in silence for a moment before a laugh escaped his lips. "Fuck this day, man. I can't even shag my partner without something going wrong."

The two of you erupted in laughter, as Kyle moved to lay on the ground next to you.

"Babe, what do you say we do a pillow fort in the living room tonight? Get some wine and pizza and have a movie night?" You asked, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "We'll worry about the bed tomorrow."

"God, you're so perfect for me. I love you." He declared, pressing a kiss to your lips.

Though the evening didn't go as Kyle had originally planned, he didn't regret a second of it.

Konig-

Konig was going fucking ham on you in your shared bed.

He'd been away on deployment for nearly 3 months, and barely made it through the door before the two of you jumped each other

He had you in a mating press, and was punishing your hole at a brutal pace.

He'd barley fit on your bed as it was, so his feet were pressed firmly on the footboard of your bed as he was jutting into you.

"Harder, please." You'd begged him, causing his mind to go blank as he obeyed your commands.

He pushed just a bit harder against the foot board, allowing him to go deeper

The force from his feet had caused the wood to crack, and split open, the top half of the foot board falling off.

"Heilige Scheiße!" Konig cried out, turning to look at what he'd just done.

You sat up abruptly, and looked at the end of the bed, before howling with laughter.

"Maus?" He asked, brows furrowed in confusion. "Why are you laughing?"

You were unable to get a word out, from how hard you were laughing. Konig's cheeks burned from his embarrassment, and he muttered something incoherent in German under his breath.

"Baby, no! It's fine. I'm not laughing at you, I promise. You have to admit that was funny." You immediately went to console your boyfriend.

"But I broke your bed, you should be mad at me."

"I am not mad in the slightest, that just made my day." You chuckled. "Please, it's okay I promise."

He nodded his head and allowed the giggle bubbling in his chest to escape his lips.

He'd still felt terrible about breaking your bed though, and spent the rest of the afternoon gluing the piece back together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[vynxwave]

tf skybound issue 14 thoughts / analysis / connections n whatnot. spoilers for the issue 15 preview too.

absolutely gorgeous art

VERY G1 starscream vibes in some places xD... i could practically hear his voice

more of starscream's origin and a bit more of megatron! i like megatron's characterization in skybound so far plus the decepticon cause's. i think skybound's decepticon ideology's gotta be my favorite, it just meshes their violence with their believed righteousness in such a great way.

this issue gives starscream quite a different initial approach to morality than seen in previous continuities (iirc) where here in #14 he is against killing prisoners of war while being a decepticon (often he's with loose morals even before becoming a decepticon).

megatron has the ability to mentally coerce the one wielding him to bend to his will (painfully), which i think is a really cool concept.

this makes starscream's evil directly caused by megatron from prolonged exposure to his influence conditioning/corrupting him. as seen in the mini background panels, over time blasting many Autobots to scrap, starscream grows to enjoy it

i've personally always loved starscream's evil to be completely independent of megatron('s) (as it has been) so i'm a bit conflicted on this aspect of skybound starscream... but i do understand its purpose/role in the story though.

issues #13/#14 run a parallel between then starscream & megatron and present starscream & those humans: both purport to Starscream they want to help him, but in reality they just want to use him for their own benefit. with that then story running parallel to the present one, starscream's dialogue about those humans also reflects upon how he felt under megatron's control

megatron forcing starscream to wield him definitely felt like it was expounding upon a question one might have had watching G1 — "why would megatron let someone who openly covets his position wield him?" of course, skybound isn't g1 and takes the idea and angle quite differently than the show did. with this it also supplies the reason of why starscream resents megatron and wants to overthrow and kill him.

and of G1, the Decepticons siding with starscream are ones who have sided with him once in the cartoon — the Combaticons in Starscream's Brigade and Astrotrain in Triple Takeover (and of course, Astrotrain was also the one to crown Starscream in the 1986 movie).

with Soundwave having the Constructicons and Starscream the Combaticons, a cool fight between Devastator and Bruticus is sure to ensue (vol 3 [collects #13-#18 + the story from the 2024 special] is called "Combiner Chaos" anyway)

i will be delighted to see soundwave and his decepticons vs starscream and his decepticons.

soundwave looks to be a megatron loyalist in this continuity and shares a bit of his sentiments (a bit below).

neat how then starscream and present thundercracker both had objections to the treatment of prisoners of war.

not the first time there's been a similarity between them, here's panels (#1 & #8) that parallel each other:

and how they differ:

not 1:1, but megatron's words to starscream reminded me of soundwave's to thundercracker — a subordinate's objection met with a reminder of their place and that their objection is irrelevant to their superior.

also worth noting, soundwave keeps thundercracker by his side despite his continual disagreements with how things are going, which is similar to megatron keeping starscream (who resents him) by his side.

i'd guess these similarities serve to build up to thundercracker possibly eventually actively opposing soundwave (as opposed to just going along with it) — here in the #15 preview he gives the humans warning to flee before blasting the building

now, knowing megatron's gunmode has the ability to mentally coerce the wielder to bend to his will... looks like this is what's happening with optimus wearing megatron's cannon arm!! xD. "megatron's cannon arm is influencing prime" has been built up and noticed, but it's nice to have megatron's ability now explicitly shown.

In #5 Starscream comments on Optimus having Megatron's cannon arm, and Optimus has a bit to say to him before blasting him with it.

Many noticed the parallel between Megatron & Optimus's fight in the Energon Universe Special 2024 and Optimus & Shockwave's in #12 as well as his tinged eye color.

Now with #14 we can also see a a similar thing that happened to Optimus happen to Starscream — Megatron's influence practically forcing their hand, going against what they wanted. Note the green-yellow background gradient suggesting Megatron's mental coercion in Starscream's panels, and in Optimus's panels (above) when his eyes are tinged there's yellow or yellow-green used in the background.

[glassbirdfeather]

Mohg's Brain

(This is an essay on Mohg, Lord of Blood, from hit video game Elden Ring. It just takes a bit to get there.)

There is a story often repeated in Psychology classes, Physiology classes, pop psych media like YouTube, podcasts, and garbage daytime television on channels that used to be scientifically rigorous: about a man with an incredible brain injury. For those of you who haven't heard the story or are not yet sick of hearing it, I've included it from memory below, because I have heard it just that many times.

If you've heard this story already, you can skip to the subtitle: "Can We Even Learn Anything From Gage?"

If you already know the controversies about Phineas Gage or just want to jump to the part about the video game character, you can skip to the subtitle: "Let's FINALLY talk about Video Game"

----

"The Curious Case of Phineas Gage"

Phineas Gage was a railroad worker who would help clear land with explosives. The dubious and definitely wouldn't-have-been-OSHA-approved method of laying these explosives was to chip a hole into the mountainside, place the explosives, and then tamp it down using some sort of implement like a railroad spike. What happened next was predictable and it's surprising this didn't happen much more often--when packing the explosives, they detonated in Gage's face. Specifically, this launched the spike underneath his left eye and out of the top of his head. Less predictably, Phineas stood up afterwards. When a doctor arrived, said doctor did not believe what had occurred until Gage vomited approximately a "teacupful of brain matter" onto the street.

Due to lack of effective sterilization and antibiotics at the time, poor Phineas Gage was bedridden for several months, where he continued to lose further brain matter to infection. Eventually, he did recover, although he would continue to experience migraines and seizures for the rest of his life. While he lost his job for the railroad service, he went on to work in a sideshow attraction, carrying around the very railroad spike that went through his head. Eventually, he got a job and worked as a taxi driver and lived for several more years before dying of a seizure.

Phineas Gage was never the same after this life-altering injury: he was belligerent, drunk, lied frequently, and lost his job for the railroad company because of his new personality. And I do say NEW personality--Phineas had become like a completely different person and was, in essence, "no longer Gage" (they love quoting that). The damage to regions of the prefrontal cortex made him unable to make moral judgements, and impaired his impulse control.

OR MAYBE THAT LAST PART ISN'T TRUE.

Phineas Gage was NOT much changed by this life-altering injury. Though he lost his job at the railway company, the cause of this job loss is unknown. He MAY have had severe alterations to his personality due to this injury, but whether these changes were due to physical damage or emotional trauma--or whether personality changes ACTUALLY occurred at all--are disputed.

----

Can We Even Learn Anything From Gage?

Though I am uncertain if we have exact data on which parts of his brain he was left with when accounting for what was later lost to infection, the trajectory and angle of the injury suggests he initially lost much of his prefrontal cortex. Which of the previous versions of the story are told or over/under-emphasized is dependent on the point the teller is trying to make in the age-old debate of nature vs. nurture.

Some psychologists argue that Gage's personality change demonstrates the Global Workspace Model, where different parts of the brain are responsible for different parts of consciousness, and that by changing or removing parts of the brain, you change consciousness.

Other psychologists will argue that the LACK of change is evidence of the brain's incredible plasticity--its ability to adapt and compensate for missing parts by shifting the functions of those parts to be performed by different regions.

Most reasonably, he probably experienced some cognitive differences while still being effectively the same person and is an example of both points of view. But we don't have concrete enough evidence to say.

Any class in which a teacher or textbook needs evidence to support whatever point they're trying to make about how changes to the brain affects personality, addiction, emotional regulation, decision making, etc., they'll use Gage to make that point, no matter what stance they take. So really, Gage isn't a useful case study beyond what we could actually observe: he lost some of his brain and lived, while also experiencing migraines and seizures for the rest of his life.

With all of that said, if we assume that Gage experienced no changes to cognitive function or personality, I just typed out a story I am very sick of hearing for no reason. So let's assume that at least some of those observations were true.

----

Let's FINALLY Talk About Video Game

Her are some potentially useful images to reference if you want. Left: general brain regions and their functions. Right: paranasal sinus cavities.

Unlike a nice, straight tamping iron, Mohg's horns curl in unpredictable directions. Some assumptions must be made about length, depth, and diameter to determine what region and volume of his skull is occupied by his horn. The minimum I expect is that the horn occupies the region of his frontal lobe in any scenario. Let's also set a maximum limit: I believe it is reasonable to assume it has not reached the primary motor cortex, where it would disrupt body control and physical movement... unless one wants to suggest he is puppetting himself in his boss fight like a bloodbender. Which, let's be real, IS a really badass concept, someone should write that fanfiction.

Though I argue that Gage is a bad example to use given our lack of reliable data on his personality and lived experiences, we DO know that disrupting the function of the prefrontal cortex can affect judgment, planning, concentration, and any type of higher processing you might call a uniquely 'human' mental ability (I acknowledge the mental abilities of birds and primates but they are beyond the scope of this essay). It may be safe to assume that, in Mohg's case, these mental processes are harmed regardless of any further extrapolation I make. One other brain region of note is the motor speech (Broca) area, located on the left side directly behind the prefrontal cortex and controls muscle movements for speech.

On the topic of pain, migraines, and seizures: He has a horn in his head, it probably hurts. Obstructions (like cysts) can cause buildup of cerebrospinal fluid, which can cause pain and is a common cause of seizures. It is difficult to say how many people have benign brain tumors, but there is speculation that benign tumors in the brain are unexpectedly common. People only typically get brain scans when they've already noticed a problem, but there have been cases of perfectly healthy people having (non-cancerous) brain tumors, so a mass being present in the brain does NOT guarantee seizures will occur. This being said, that horn is significantly larger than a typical benign brain tumor. Migraines and seizures are very reasonable to assume.

I don't know what to say about illness and disease. In theory, if the horn grew at any point after birth, I would say he should have died from any pathogens that were introduced during its corkscrewing into his skull. Phineas Gage was bedridden for months due to infection, was under the care of a doctor, and he wasn't living in a sewer. Do the Lands Between understand the germ theory of disease? It may at least know that poop in the brain is bad, but I listen to Sawbones, so I know that isn't something we can just assume. It's possible he's lost some impossible-to-estimate amount of brain matter to infection. Feel free to speculate about Omen resistance to pathogens, but I don't feel that is the point of this essay. I'll say it's safe to assume his body has healed closed around it, but anything else I won't try to extrapolate.

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Specificity from Horn Trajectory

Possibility 1:

If we estimate the continued trajectory from the visible part of the horn, it actually continues medially, towards the center of the body, and curls downward. This might even miss most of the brain and instead disrupt the frontal, ethmoidal, and maxillary sinus cavities of the skull.

It may possibly even pierce the roof of the mouth, if we roughly estimate the rate at which the horn tapers and where it likely ends. I argue that this is the most optimistic scenario in terms of his health, because although the horn almost certainly penetrates the prefrontal cortex, it may not be as deep as other possibilities.

In this horn trajectory case, he probably experiences constant sinus pressure similar to a permanent head cold, obstruction to his sense of smell, and by extension his sense of taste. Even if the horn does not completely block his nasal cavity, it may have damaged his olfactory nerve and thus disabled his sense of smell anyway. Should the horn obstruct his mouth he may experience physical difficulties eating and speaking.

Possibility 2:

A worse scenario may be to assume this horn instead extends directly backwards. This would likely pass through the motor speech area, and may have caused him to lose the ability to talk, forcing him to relearn how to speak by having another part of the brain learn to do this function (similar to how anyone learns a second language after very early childhood). It may also reach the LEFT temporal lobe, which processes hearing and smell for the RIGHT side of the body, and therefore he could be deaf in his right ear. Again, the olfactory nerve is potentially in the path of the horn, and loss of sense of smell is frequently considered a symptom of brain damage, so regardless of the angle of the horn this is a high possibility.

----

What Time of Horn Growth Could Tell Us

Children are more likely to recover well from brain damage. The older he was when the horn entered his brain, the more likely he would be to experience cognitive impairment.

Should Mohg's horn have developed that way before birth, his brain may have formed around it without issue, or obstructed regions may have simply remained underdeveloped. His skull would also have developed to more 'comfortably' accommodate this horn, rather than having to break and re-heal around a later intrusion. If the horn is shallow enough and its growth occurred during fetal development or very early childhood before the fusing of the bones in the skull, it is possible that left eye blindness and mild discomfort are the only effects. The timing of the horn's growth being before birth or in early infancy is supported by the Regal Omen Bairn, which shows Morgott with seemingly all of his horns, suggesting that omens horns are largely present upon birth and that those horns grow in proportion with them.

However, given the themes associated with the Formless Mother, here is another--vastly more speculative--hypothesis: Mohg's horn was grown deliberately into his skull by the influence of the Formless Mother, perhaps with or without his consent. I find it hard to believe that a force claimed to be the "mother of truth" which "desires a wound" would be unaware of the possible effects of this type of wound.

I posit that the Formless Mother intended to compromise Mohg's consciousness and sense of reason to make him easier to manipulate. If we assume that they were not working together (debatable), the abduction of Miquella and potential interruption and sabotage of his ascension puts an empyrean under the Formless Mother's control, and works counter to the dynasty Mohg desires. Damage to his ability to plan, make rational decisions, and his sense of morality could explain how Mohg seems to want a place for outcast and hated people, likely seeing a kinship with Miquella, but has created something that is the antithesis to the Haligtree.

Furthermore, should we assume that Mohg and Miquella met previously and Miquella had the opportunity to do so, the power Miquella purportedly has to compel adoration in others may have interacted poorly with Mohg's potentially impaired emotional processing, and could have caused an obsessive outcome that the Formless Mother did not predict.

Of course, I don't believe every awful and cruel decision someone makes is the result of brain damage, but this may explain the incongruity between what Mohg seems to want and what he has made. Whether Mohg is "the reigning lord and hierarch of the coming dynasty of Mohgwyn" or "a raving lunatic" may not be an incompatible dichotomy. It may be sequential.

----

Glassbirdfeather you're so wrong, why did you say ___?

I am not a doctor. I am a chemistry student with a biology lean (clinical laboratory science) and am drawing my conclusions from what I've learned in Anatomy, Physiology, and Psychology classes at an introductory level, and I glanced back at my anatomy and psychology textbooks as my sole academic sources. Please don't take this as a well-researched essay, none of the claims I make about mental or physical health are properly cited. This is just fandom theorizing; it's as academically rigorous as fanfiction. Any doctor/member of the medical profession who would like to correct me is invited to do so, I would love to hear more accurate and informed observations.

----

Bibliography

(literally just 2 references, man)

Grison, Sarah and Michael S. Gazzaniga. Psychology in Your Life. Third Edition, W. W. Norton & Company, 2019.

McKinley, Michael P. and Valerie Dean O'Loughlin. Human Anatomy. Fifth Edition, McGraw-Hill, 2017.

[pastel-greene]

The Daughter | king!sukuna x curse user!reader

Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 - Hunger | Chapter 4

Summary: The mother of curses happens upon a blind child and decides to impart a portion of her power to them as an experiment of sorts. The power morphs the child in their image until they are part curse and part human. So what happens when they get employed by the King of Curses? Will humanity bloom as newfound emotions flow between the two? Or will they usher in an era of never ending terror?

Notes: not all of this will be canon, it will be loosely based off of the jjk universe :) taglist is open, comment on any chapter to be tagged in future ones

Genre: female reader, fluff, angst, ‘loads’ of smut, violence, sukuna true form but like not with the weird face lmao just double set of eyes and arms, dark reader

Warnings: profanity, explicit smut (two dick sukuna, sadistic sex, biting, oral m & f receiving, pet names, more to be added), violence, depictions of gore, dark minds cause yk, mentions of rape, toxic relationships, chaotic neutral reader, trauma, possessiveness from reader and sukuna, torture, vampire themes (reader’s blood is infused with the Mother of curses so if a curse user is to drink it it basically gives them a temporary stat boost bc what can i say vampire sukuna seems hot), cannibalism (no I don’t support it but it is true to his character), and more to be added as story progresses

Word count: 7.3k

This work contains mature content, so absolutely no minors I will block you if I find out :)

You immersed yourself in a warm bath not long after returning to your room. Your bathtub was a large square with more than enough room in it. It could easily fit another person your size, but probably only one Sukuna, who it was likely measured after. Its large, flat edges were slightly angled to let any excess water flow back into the tub. A slatted bamboo platform went across the expanse and held a few different washing instruments as well as a small towel. You always grew up with little crates that you would bathe in if you even got to bathe. On a few jobs you had gotten to use nicer ones, but never one this nice. It was definitely a palace grade bathtub.

Your servants had asked if you required any assistance, to which you said no, and sent them off. You wanted to be alone for a minute and think about what the fuck just happened. You had just been giggling, joking, and fantasizing about the man that ripped apart your hand yesterday. And you were pretty damn sure he was doing the exact same, but why? You doubted he regretted what he did, especially since he threatened to do it again, but today he felt different. He wasn’t holding his title over you, he was just being with you. It felt like he was a completely different person and was giving you whiplash.

You sank lower into the tub until your nose barely stayed above the water. He was such an asshole. You still wanted to rip his arms off, but you also wanted to have them touch you again. You didn’t know if it was him in particular or just the fact it had been a few weeks since you had been with someone. In the weeks leading up to your departure, you had either been busy with work or working on a new technique Ieiri had come up with. The work was needed, though. As a technique, you could fully utilize it, but you were having some issues manifesting a curse that could accurately use it too. So it was good that you put in extra time experimenting with it while you were still with Shoko, but your body hated you for it all the same. Your clit still absolutely throbbing from your interaction with Sukuna. Now your joke of fucking the King started to grow meaning you never meant it to have.

You pulled your head underwater and curled up along the bottom of the tub. You shouldn’t want him. You should want to kill him for being an asshole. You always hated people that stayed with people that hurt them. It should be obvious that if someone hurts you, you shouldn’t stay within their grasp. Hell, in your opinion, you should get even with interest. Hurt them how they hurt you and then some. But you weren’t really hurt were you? You were just pissed he was so bipolar and refused to use his words when upset.

You traced along the hand he had wounded. It was like it had never happened. You didn’t even remember the pain now. It was becoming a distant memory. You pulled yourself to sit back up in the tub and looked at your hand once more before moving it to grab the towel on your tray. You folded it and used it to cushion the edge of the tub as you laid your head back. You closed your eyes and breathed in the aroma of lilacs and vanilla. The palace had so many imported scents you had never smelled before. You wondered where they got them all and how they were made. You had heard that the kingdom threw different festivals in the King’s honor that attracted a lot of merchants and wondered if they would sell them there. You bet there were all kinds of goods you normally couldn’t get your hands on sold there.

People aside, your stay at the palace was quite nice. Your food made you feel ways you never knew it could. There were so many spices you had never tasted before and so many textures you had never felt. You wanted to go to the kitchen one day and watch the chef cook. You wondered if you would be allowed to cook as well. Probably not in the Palace’s kitchen, but you weren’t above cooking outside. Although, you weren’t sure how Sukuna would feel about you setting a fire outside and cooking. It might be a very classless look for you. But realistically, you were indeed lacking class. You had never thought that you would end up where you were. You went from being an orphan sold for sex to the King’s guard. You went from being scared of the world you couldn’t see, to being able to drink in the world’s sites without trepidation. You used to beg and scrounge for food, killing when necessary. Now you had culinary masterpieces delivered to your door at least three times a day. Being here, you realized why your town was looked down upon. From the outside, it looked like a bunch of stray dogs fighting for scraps in a town that was barely standing. If you had only ever lived life like this, that would have been all you thought of it. You wouldn’t be able to understand what made it so great. But you were grateful for your past and upbringing, it allowed you to grow up without anything veiling reality. You saw the world for what it was, saw how people acted when they thought no one was watching, when they thought they were strong. Humans hated curses but failed to admit they were just as disgusting and vile as them. They refused to take credit for their part in creating them. The Mother was part of their creation, sure, but she existed in a world without curses for quite some time. Her power only grew into cursed energy when humans came along. Before she was just the darkness, a necessary opposite for light to exist. Human thoughts, their fears, dark desires, unchecked emotions, those are what opened the door for cursed energy.

After your bath, you had decided to go to the library you had recently heard of. One of the servants was kind enough to tell you about it, after hearing that you were asking about what to put on your shelves. You walked along the wooden floors towards the west wing of the castle. Simple, black chandeliers lit with Sukuna’s cursed energy, guided your path in the areas cut off from the rays of the sun. High, domed ceilings made from intricately designed tiles hung above you. Each design was bound to a square bordered by black trim and gold corners. You had seen paintings of previous palaces’ ceilings and the art displayed within greatly differed. Others often showcased aspects of nature brought to life by various colors. These were a dark red with black ink depicting scenes of terror. You didn’t have to look at all of them to know they each depicted acts of violence Sukuna prided himself on.

The door to the library was different from the door to your chambers. Yours was made of black stained wood that was divided into sections by metal bars that linked in the middle to make Sukuna’s seal. This one was made with Zelkova wood left in its natural amber color, adorned with matching knobs lining the edges, and Sukuna’s seal burned into the middle. It was quite pretty, really. You grabbed the ornate metal handle and granted yourself entry to the room beyond. You were met with a room bigger than you had expected and absolutely packed with books. It had shelves lining the perimeter as well as in rows throughout the room. There were even piles of books stacked in different open spaces tied together by red string. You hadn’t thought of Sukuna to be one to care much about reading, but you were obviously wrong.

You walked inside and started looking around. The amount of books felt a little overwhelming, some were even in languages you didn’t recognize. Underneath the books, on the edge of the shelves, there were categories carved into the wood. Currently you were in politics, which you couldn’t care less about, so you wondered out. You eventually found the science section with books ranging from anatomy to topics you had never heard of. You grabbed and looked at a few before reshelving them. Their contents either evading your comprehension or boring your interest.

Eventually, you found a book with what you were looking for. It was a book on the energy within everything and the connection between it all. Most recently, you had been working on various techniques that would allow you to morph something’s makeup just by tapping into its energy. The cursed technique you had perfected prior to leaving home allowed you touch any item and reshape it at will. You could combine and divide energies to suit whatever purpose you needed. You could even change your own energy to mirror another. Paired with your technique to slip into people’s minds, it would be a very useful infiltration tactic. You had experimented in a few different ways when trying to create a curse that could use it, but it proved to be difficult. They always ended up lacking intelligence or imagination. You had tried using your prior methods when creating intelligent curses, but it became tricky to stabilize this time since the curse would be able to fully change their own makeup. They always ended up screwing themselves up beyond repair.

While you were there you decided to look around at other topics. You got a book rooted in fantasy that seemed promising for when you got bored or wanted to escape for a little bit, and a few volumes of martial arts you hadn’t heard of.

By the time you were done, your hands were full and your servants quickly offered their hands instead. You were about to walk out when Geto entered the room. You were behind a few aisles of books, so you couldn’t see him, but you could tell he knew you were here from the way he beelined towards you. Within a few seconds he was turning into the aisle you stood in.

“Wow, I didn’t know your kind could read”, he said while walking up towards you with a smile.

“Wow, you’re openly admitting you don’t know something so common,” you joked back while giving him a very judgy once over, “talk about embarrassing.”

He raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth to say something before tongueing the inside of his cheek while smiling. He raised his hands in submission, “Got me there. So what are you reading?” He approached your servants before picking up the fantasy book you chose, which you quickly grabbed from him and hid. It one-hundred precent was a dirty little book to help you through your dry spell and you didn’t need him knowing that. He had read it before though so he knew exactly what was in the contents.

“Not really any of your business, is it,” you asked while withholding the book from him.

“I suppose not, but I will tell you that this one has better sex scenes”, he says while handing you the book he had brought in.

You cleared your throat of the slight embarrassment you felt while accepting the book he held out. “I guess I will be the judge of that.”

“I guess so,” he says while smirking at you. “How have things been? I heard you trained with the King this morning and it ended with both of you smiling. I guess all is forgiven or what?”

Your servants all suddenly became very interested in the books around them and the shelves they were on. You weren’t worried about them hearing though. You had been in their minds and knew they didn’t dare gossip about anything that involved the King.

“I don’t know. He seemed really different today, like the total polar opposite of yesterday. I am pretty sure he encouraged me to yell at him and even joked a bit with me. He might’ve been nice just to learn what I was doing and get me to teach him, though. He did threaten to dismantle my other hand, but that was about the only thing he did that matched with yesterday. His threat didn’t really seem to carry any weight behind it. Like I said, I think he was just saying stuff to get me to break formality and yell at him. Not that it really matters I guess. Trying to find out why he does the things that he does seems like a moot point.”

“You joked with the King…and he joked back,” he asks, blinking a few times.

“Yea, I didn’t know he had it in him either but it happened all the same. He seems to be full of surprises I guess”, you said as you lifted your foot behind you and used the toe of your shoe as an anchor while you rolled your ankle around.

“Well I suppose. It is definitely the first time I have heard of it. I mean I have heard of him sadistically joking with his victims, but not in a casual setting”, he says. “But I am glad things went better for you today.” He smiles at you again before awkwardly standing there looking around.

“Me too, and thank you for checking in. I appreciate the gesture. But I won’t take up anymore of your time. I am sure there is a new smutty book waiting to be read by you”, you said with a smile while straightening your back and starting out of the aisle.

“Don’t forget to let me know which one you liked better”, he shouts after you.

“Will do”, you shout back before exiting.

You spent the rest of the day reading the book on energy you had gotten. You considered reading your fantasy books to find out what scenes Geto was talking about, but you figured you should at least start the book you had originally gone for. You had gotten about a quarter of the way through before dozing off in a fitful nap.

The area around you was damp and cold. Your skin had goosebumps shaking across it as you held your knees. Your whole body hurt. Your jaw was sore from being forced open for a prolonged amount of time, your lips were swollen and scabbing over from being bitten and slapped, your wrists and shoulders hurt from being unnaturally bound for so long, your legs were sore from being pushed beyond the limits of your flexibility, and your throat burned from how many screams forced their way out of the acid stained walls.

There was movement across from where you laid. You couldn’t see anything but you could see her. It was like she was inside and outside of your mind at the same time. Her eyes were black voids that seemed to hungrily devour the light like an all consuming abyss split into two. Her jaw hung from her face, only attached by skin that was stretched taut. Inside her mouth seemed to be stained black as if a fire had burned soot stains into it. Her hair was as black as her eyes and seemed to wriggle and writhe like thousands of dark little worms suspended in the air yet forced down by gravity. She comes to you often these days. At first, you were scared of her and pushed her away. Now, you feel comfort in not being alone in your cage. She never spoke to you…not until that day.

Hands reached all over your body in the dark as men laughed. You were just an object of release for them. You weren’t human to them, what you felt didn’t matter. Your cries had died in your throat a while ago as you disassociated from your body. There you found her. Somewhere dark within your mind, she was standing with her hand reaching out. Anytime, you allowed yourself to fall inside that void that grew within you, swallowing up more and more of you with every inch it gained, you found her. Always with her hand outstretched. Always waiting patiently for the day you inevitably took it. You knew nothing would be the same if you took it. You knew you truly wouldn’t be human anymore. But maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. Because you really fucking hated humans in all honesty.

That day you couldn’t take it anymore. All you wanted to do was stab the men around you until they weren’t even recognizable. You wanted to make them pay. To experience all of the pain and fear you felt because of them. You wanted not to be weak anymore. So you allowed the abyss to swallow you, to make you forget everything about yourself as you put your hand into hers and she smiled. Pointed teeth braised in thick black liquid peeked through her lips, the gelatinous liquid started gushing through her teeth and onto the ground as she continued to smile. You didn’t notice but your face was mirroring hers as blood flooded from your mouth. You don’t remember how it got there but you know it tasted of freedom. A taste you wanted to experience again and again.

You awoke with drool dribbling out of your mouth and pain in your neck from falling asleep at your dining table. You slowly sat up, groaning as your muscles announced their dissatisfaction with your decision. You put your hands on your lower back and pushed on it as you arched backwards. You felt pops ripple up your spine before rolling your neck to allow it to pop too. You hadn’t dreamt of that day in quite some time. The day you first used cursed energy. When you told the Mother of the girl she chuckled. She told you that cursed energy can manifest in everyone differently. Yours had built up over years of agony and inadvertently created the technique you first learned— transmutation. Your thoughts of wanting to be stronger than you were and looking like you felt mixed with the built up energy had created an evolved form of you. It was then she told you how big of a part thought played in the creation of cursed energy.

You hadn’t used that form in so long. One of the conditions for using it was to release all of the cursed energy you had stored. The more you had, the stronger the form was. You still used a decent amount of energy for general things and creating curses, but you also stored a great amount. Like any you collected from draining other sorcerers was immediately stored. There was another downside to it as well. It made you go more feral than you could control. Once you turned, you destroyed everything and everyone in your path until you depleted your energy and changed back.

The last time you used it, you blacked out for 2 weeks and turned 12 towns into utter bloodbaths. You had lost yourself in your anger and blacked out. When you had finally awoken, you were being wheeled away in a wheelbarrow full of pieces of human remains. Authorities had thought you were a dead body with how covered in blood you were. You laid in the pile you were dumped in for a few days, eating the remains around you to regain your strength. Once able, you blindly stumbled into the snow. You walked until you found a hut with a man living in it. You knocked on the door crying and told him you had been attacked and that you were blind and scared. He took you in without a second thought. Afterall, you were just a harmless child crying for your “recently lost” parents. He was so nice to you. He sat you in front of the fire and helped wipe all of the blood off of you while trying to console you. He even gave you new clothes and respectfully turned around when you went to change. But when he turned away from you a hatchet appeared in his skull. You remember the sounds he made as he fell to the floor, the fear and confusion clouding his energy as he looked up at you. You ripped the hatchet from his head and chopped him into pieces. Some of him you set up as bait for other animals, and some of him you ate when no other food was available. There, you lived a quiet life for a few months until the Mother stumbled upon you. Thinking back on it, you were a monster before she ever turned you into her spawn. Maybe that was why she chose you.

You walked towards the training grounds the next morning just as you said you would. The air was brisk with a slight chill, which was odd since it was summer. Its oddness became rationalized as you sensed Uruame’s energy in the air. You turned the corner to see them there already staring you down.

As you stepped through the archway leading into the area you could sense cursed energy rushing towards you. You jumped from where you stood and grabbed onto the ridge of the arch as the ground below you turned into ice.

“Y’know there are better ways to ask me to leave. Like with words for example”, you said with great annoyance. It was way too early for this bullshit. They better just be playing around for their sake because you were not in the mood for an actual fight.

Ice shot up from the ground, right for you. Tch. Does this asshole really think they can hit me? You pulled yourself to the realm between and watched them from it. They had surrounded themselves with ice while looking around for you. Their hands were poised and ready to attack when you appeared. Normally, you would have played with them, allowed them to feel like they had a chance of winning before squashing them like the bug they were. Not today. Not after being stuck in memory lane last night. You were hungry for blood, it had been days since you killed. Days full of you taking hits and putting up with bullshit you shouldn’t have to.

You appeared in front of them, their sad blockade of ice shattering from the force of your energy being unleashed. Your hand shot to their throat, fingertips digging into the skin as you lifted them from the ground. Their eyes widen as they told their ice to impale and shred you, but it didn't listen. Your energy was already flooding their body and taking control of their technique. They could feel it. They started letting out screams as their own technique bloomed inside their blood. It tore through vessels and skin as the shards of ice grew.

“I told you to use your words. Now why did you—“, you felt Sukuna’s hand about to grab but you pushed him away with your energy.

You turned from Uruame to see Geto by where you entered, the ice still on the ground spiking upwards. Sukuna landed on his feet after being repelled and looked fucking pissed.

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING, BRAT?”, he screamed at you as he started pushing against the force field around you. His steps were small and slow, but they continue towards you all the same.

“ME? YOUR ASSHOLE SERVANT ATTACKED ME AND WOULDN’T RESPOND WHEN I ASKED WHY!”, you screamed back at him.

“I don’t think she is lying, King Sukuna. Her trail puts her here and jumping up there before appearing where she is now. I think we should all just calm down and talk about this”, he said while trying to diffuse the situation.

Sukuna looks at Geto and the ice he was referring to. He didn’t think you would attack Uruame without being provoked, but he didn’t know why Uruame would attack you either. He knew they didn’t like you but they had never acted without permission before. “(Y/N) let Uruame go so we can settle this”.

You looked at him then back at Uruame. They were bleeding from multiple places where the ice had torn through them, and one of their eyes was just a frozen ball waiting to shatter. You wanted to finish the job. Wanted to see their insides splayed open for you like a present.

“(Y/N), please”, Geto said as he looked at you with pleading eyes.

You rolled your eyes and sighed before releasing Uruame to fall to the ground. The ice dissipated and your barrier dropped. Sukuna appeared between the two of you in an instant. You gave you a look radiating murder before bending down to Uruame’s level.

“Did you start this”, he asked while propping them up.

“They aren’t good for you. You haven’t been yourself since you heard about them. You had me stalk them for months before finally summoning them. And now you allow their insolence and disrespect. We know nothing about her or what she is and yet you welcome her into your palace and allow her to roam free. She—“, Sukuna slammed their head into the ground.

Geto winced at the sight of his comrade’s skull getting smashed, but you smiled. The sight and sound his skull made as Sukuna crushed it lit a fire deep within you. Pesky piece of shit. You only wished it was you who got to do it.

“(Y/N)”, Sukuna said.

“Yes, King Sukuna?”

“Don’t let them die”, he said, shooting you a cold look promising similar treatment if you fail.

“Yes, King Sukuna”, you replied with a smile allowing your power to seep back into them and regenerate their wounds.

Sukuna smashed in their face with all four of his fists over and over before stomping and jumping on their body. He then began grabbing and tearing away pieces of flesh, some eaten by the mouth that had appeared on his hand. Every now and then he would even dip his head down and bite out chunks of them. He ripped off their arms and legs, watching as they regrew in an instant. He even ripped off their head before beating them with it. He looked like a wild animal as every inch of his skin became covered in blood. The display stoked that fire inside you until liquid started to pour out of your lower lips. Sukuna’s pants started to bulge as his own arousal grew from tearing apart and eating his friend. His insults and the sound of Uruame’s flesh squelching and bones snapping filled the air. Blood pooled around you like an ever growing river. This goes on for at least an hour and neither you nor Geto moved an inch. You both watched what happened to people the King actually likes when they cross him. Normally, it was Sukuna healing them while beating them. Now that he didn’t have to bother with it he was going all out.

His assault finally comes to an end and he just stares down with disdain at Uruame before looking at you. He walked over to you and gripped your jaw with his bloody hands. “Geto, take Uruame and leave. No one is allowed to enter this area until I say otherwise. Go. Now.”

Geto briefly looked at you before picking up Uruame and quickly leaving the area.

As soon as they’re gone, Sukuna started petting your hair with one hand, another still gripping your chin, one holding your hip with his thumb rubbing patterns into it, and the last one on the small of your back. “You did such a good job keeping them alive for me. I never had so much fun torturing someone. They all would’ve died somewhere in the middle of it when I stopped concentrating on healing them”, he said while looking you in the eyes.

“What did they mean when they said you stalked me for months”, you asked as you rested your hands on his forearms.

He sighed and looked down for a minute. “It wasn’t in a weird way. I just wanted to know if you were the real deal. I had heard of a sorcerer not restrained by technique that worked as a contract killer. I wanted to see what all you could do and when I was confident you were strong, I had Geto go retrieve you. But I still needed to see for myself, so that’s why I sparred with you in the throne room. But you proved your worth to me”.

He pulled you close to him, his face hovering over yours. “You proved you were made for me. Made to be able to take my strength, made to empower me, made to show me my potential in cursed energy, made for me to bite, made to challenge me.”

His lips were right against yours now. Even through all of Uruame’s blood you could smell his scent. Your eyes flickered between his as your pulse quickened from the unfolding moment. You could feel his dick pressing against your abdomen from how close you were, making both of your breaths grow short and quick. You knew this was crazy. He was covered in blood and still had pieces of flesh in his teeth. Not to mention you were pretty sure you hated him. But none of that seemed to matter at the moment. You trailed your hands up his forearms, blood coating them as they slid across his skin until you reached the back of his neck. You ran your nails across his nape and he pressed his forehead against yours while letting out a groan.

“Show me how you’re made for me. Prove to me that you're worthy of me. Make me yours”, you whisper against his lips while drawing shapes on his nape. “Please Sukuna.”

The noise that leaves his throat from you begging him is so low and guttural it sounds like it belongs to the hells. His arms lift you up to wrap around his waist as his mouth crashes into yours. His teeth nip and bite at your lips and tongue before sucking on them. You moan into the kiss as your mouth follows in suit and your hips roll into him. Your hands pull him closer to you but its not enough. There’s still too much in between you. Normally you would enjoy slowly undressing him and teasing each part of his body as its revealed but you were wayyy past going slow. The next minute you feel his skin bare of clothes and against yours. You push your breasts flush against his chest, blood coating them, and moan at the sensation it gives your nipples.

“My naughty girl, who gave you permission to undress your King”, he says while pulling your hair back to get a good look at you.

The force he pulled your head with was enough to rip anyone else’s off, but there yours was moaning out in pleasure from it. “I did. You were taking too long, Sukuna”, you said before gasping as you finally looked down. “You-you have two”, you asked in shock. Although you really shouldn’t be shocked since he has two of everything else. You couldn’t help but lick your lips at the thought of him burying them inside you. Fucking your insides until they molded to his shape.

He laughs at your cute little question before slapping you right in the face once and then once on your left ass cheek which provokes a stuttered moan from your throat. “Such a fucking brat talking to me like that”, he says before he shoves one of his fingers into your mouth and grabs your right breast. His mouth appearing and biting on your nipple, making you moan again for him. He slaps your ass in the same spot and this time it is so hard that the sound echoes throughout the premises. The pain shooting through your body makes you scream as your cum drips onto him. Blood dribbles from where your skin broke and you bite his finger. Not completely off but enough that you’re lapping up a mix of his and Uruame’s blood. “Talking to me so casually—“ he slaps it again,”biting my fucking finger—“ another slap has blood absolutely gushing from the spot and tears swelling in your eyes. You decide to get even and bite his finger clean off letting him watch you swallow it. A piece of him inside you. You then suckled on the nub left behind while giving him a bloody smirk.

He groans at the sight as his finger regrows back in your mouth. Fucking hell he didn’t think he had ever seen something so hot. You literally just ate a piece of him because he made your ass bleed. He starts laughing before turning you around and slamming you down into Uruame’s blood. The side of your head and neck cracked from the force of the impact before healing immediately. The crack in the stone remained, though. Your ass hung in the air as his cocks rubbed against it.

“Crazy bitch you really just ate my fucking finger”, he says with awe in his voice. You try to push yourself up but the hand tangled in your hair keeps your face firmly planted down. He couldn’t have you running away, he was just about to finally taste you. “Keep your head down and I will touch you where you want me to, but if you move it I swear to god I will bite your clit off.”

“Please ‘kuna. I’ll be good just please touch me”, you whined out shamelessly. You could feel your slick dripping out of your cunt into the pool of blood. Your body was so needy for his touch it was driving your mind insane.

Again with your informalness he thought. He would correct you if your voice whining out his name didn’t drive him animalistic. He released your head and got down behind your ass. You were so fucking wet for him. He reached his finger out to gather some of your cum and your ass twitched immediately. So sensitive for him. “Stay still, brat”, he warned. Two of his hands grabbed your ass while the other two reached under you and tugged on your tits, fingers pinching and pulling on your nipples. Wispy little whimpers flew out of your mouth but you were good and stayed still for him.

He licked a stripe from your clit to your asshole that had your eyes rolling and a whine coming out. He gave you a few more long, slow licks before plunging his tongue into your pussy.

“Yes, fuck, Kuna, yes just like that”, you moaned out as he stretched you open with his tongue. It took all of your control to keep from rolling your hips into his face. “Mmm Kuna feels s’good. Makes me want to ride your face until you’re drowning in my juices.”

Fuck that would be so hot. He wanted to make you cum until you were a fountain for him. He let a groan rumble out inside which had your walls squeezing hard around his tongue. God you were taking his tongue so well, squeezing it and trying to pull it deeper inside you. He couldn’t wait to feel you do that around his cocks. He removed his tongue from your sopping pussy which made you whine before he started licking your ass. You started panting at the sensation, pussy clenching at the lack of attention which didn’t go unnoticed by him. He stuck a blood soaked finger into you, and at the same time, forced his tongue into your ass. Stars took over your vision as your toes curled up. He worked both of them in sync before summoning his mouth to assault your clit too. You started screaming out his name as your thighs began to shake from the overload of pleasure. He added another finger to your pussy and one to your ass and started spreading you, preparing you for his cocks. He knew you would be able to take all 10 girthy inches and still beg for more. That’s because you were made for him. Made to be able to endure whatever sadistic fantasies he had. His perfect girl. He started licking off the blood that was still on your ass and groaned from the feeling that washed over him while he fucked your holes with his fingers and second mouth. He couldn’t wait much longer.

He took his fingers out of you before crawling over you, pushing you down with his body. His free hands pulled your ass apart to help spread your holes for him as he positoned his cocks against them. You could feel that the size was too big but you didn’t care. You would adjust and take him. You wanted it so bad. His face was beside your ear, one of his hands moved the hair away from your neck as he peppered kisses along it. “It’s going to hurt pretty girl, but you can take it. I know you can. I’m not going to be gentle because I know you can,” he said in between kisses and then he was in. It felt like you were splitting into two as you screamed out in a mixture of pain and pleasure. He was slamming into you at a brutal pace just like he promised as he rested his head against your turned cheek. Before long, you were arching your body into him and meeting his thrusts as you both let out absolutely feral noises from the sensations. You were so fucking full you felt like you were going to burst, you could feel him pushing against your cervix and ripping open your asshole but it felt amazing. You didn’t want it to ever stop. You wanted him to fill you up like this forever. It was so warm under him and the sounds your blood covered bodies made when they slapped together was beautiful. You could hear him panting, groaning, and growling above your ear as he used you. But it wasn’t enough, you wanted more.

“Kuna-ah-ahh wan it deeper. Wanna watch you go inside me. Want you to mark me while your tear up my insides pleaseee”, you said as your vision blurred from the blood seeping into your eye that was against the ground.

How could he say no to such a request? Without missing a beat he pulled out, flipped you over, grabbed under your thighs to bend you in half, and resumed his brutal pace. His cocks now reached even deeper spots inside you. His tip went through your cervix as you screamed and tears started falling from your eyes.

“Kun gon cum, please, wan cum on your cocks, sssukuunaaa”, you begged in broken moans as your body started spasming. Your holes clenching around him so tight he broke the stone under you with his fist to keep himself from cumming.

“Cum for me brat, cover my cocks with your slutty fucking cum”, he said as he put his hand around your throat and squeezed. You body was shaking so hard he had to hold your hips with two hands so he could keep fucking into you. His own orgasm creeping up right behind yours as your holes started milking him for all he was worth, as if begging him for his cum. He pushed your mouth open with his fingers, blood smearing across your face as he did, and spit inside it before slapping you. You clenched even harder as you started cumming around him again from the defiling act, your eyes rolling back from the overstimulation. He bit your neck as he finally poured his cum into you. Long ropes of white splashing against your walls and pooling inside of your holes. Your holes that were too tight around him for his cum to escape. You could feel as it began to accumulate inside of you. Making your insides stretch further to take it all without tearing. Pain radiated from your neck as he drank from you. Your blood restoring his stamina as his cocks got even harder inside of you. It made your mind go completely blank as incessant moans poured from your mouth.

He pulled his teeth from your skin and licked the area, tasting you and Uruame as he cleaned it. He took a few breaths before moving himself over your face. You were looking at him through blurry eyes completely glazed over with lust. He brushed your hair out of your sweaty, blood covered face as he showered you with kisses. His hips started moving in slow controlled strokes. Letting you both feel every single sensation in greater detail. You could feel exactly where he was inside you and how your insides closed in his absence only for him to open them right back up when he sank back inside you. You held onto his arms as he kissed you. When he pulled his head back you both looked down to watch how he slid in and out of you. His cocks were covered in your blood and both your cum. You wrapped your legs around him and moved your arms up to run through his hair. Lightly tugging on some spots, and running your nails over others. The sensation had him melting into you. He had never been touched like this, never let anyone. And he sure as hell had never fucked anyone like this. But with how heightened his senses were from drinking your blood, he didn’t think he could go any faster without immediately cumming. And he wanted this to last. He felt so connected to you like this. He could feel the energy in both of your bodies swirling together. Dancing around each other before intertwining into one. When they did, he started to feel everything you felt. Your pleasure seeped into him as his seeped into you. He never believed in heaven, but if it existed, this was it.

You leaned your head up as you pulled on him for extra stability and started kissing along his jaw. “I wanna be in your lap Sukuna.”

“Okay, pretty girl”, he said as he lifted you up on top of him. No rebuttal, no anger, just compliance. In that, moment, he just wanted to make you feel good.

Your chests were pressed together and your hands rested on his shoulders as you rolled your hips across his lengths. His hands cradled your back and face, his thumbs rubbing patterns on both. Foreheads pressed together as you both watched you ride him. Only stopping to kiss each other or mark each other’s necks. Marks you both held off on healing for the time being. You started teasing him by pulling him out to just the tips and twirling your hips around them.

“That’s no fair, I don’t remember teasing you like that”, he said with a very uncharacteristic pout.

“I guess I am just a bit meaner than you then, hmm?”

“Ohohohh is that so now?”

“Yes, it is”, you said before kissing him.

He kissed you back while rubbing his thumb along your jaw, “Brat.”

You two fucked the day away in that spot. The spot where you had watched him tear apart his subordinate right before. By the time you two were done, there wasn’t a single spot of skin not covered in their blood.

Notes: …don’t judge me for this chapter ikik shhh. Extras v v

- So when using positive energy or reversed energy, there are times where it doesn’t work because the two people are not compatible. Know this, it would be easy to assume there are some people who have energies that are very compatible. Sukuna is obviously a sorcerer like no other, but so is the reader. They are the only two on their level, which draws them closer. Their crazies match each other. Is it toxic? Again, yes this is Sukuna. But with their personalities, it would be wild for it not to be at least a little toxic.

- Sukuna had recently learned to truly feel his innate energy and not just his cursed energy which are very different. In this chapter when he drinks from the reader, it opens a connection between the two innate energies, one that he couldn’t feel before. It allowed them to both feel everything about each other and genuinely experience connection. This doesn’t happen anytime he ingests someone, it only happens because their energies are the same. Sukuna was originally talking out of his ass about the reader being made for him to make them feel special and delude them. He only partially believed they were that useful to him. But after connecting with them, he fully believes it. He will still be a bipolar asshole though because he doesn’t know any different. Yet.

- Sukuna was pissed at Uruame but would actually consider their punishment to be light. It only lasted for an hour and they’re perfectly fine now. He would punish anyone this violently for genuinely crossing him, especially the reader. It would actually be wore for them because he needs them to be good and listen to him. He needs them in general which means they need to not be undermining him. It would be embarrassing for him if they constantly did it so he would take his time upon the first incident. Making sure they remembered it and wouldn’t act out again. And the whole time he’d tell them how much he cared about them and was doing this so that they could be better.

Taglist: @missroro

[nu11lar]

𐚁֙࿐ losing control arataki itto︱ maybe teasing him too much wasn't such a good idea...

𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓼 ... fem! reader, feminine petnames (baby, slut, etc.), pwp (without plot), handjob, teasing, overstimulation, edging, mating press (includes other previous positions but they're not described to the story), size kink, belly bulge, rough sex, cervix fucking, you grab his horns while he pounds into you 🤭, dirty talk, slight dacryphilia, dumbification, faint mentions of pregnancy, lmk if i miss any !

ପ₍ᐢ𝓪𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻'𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓮 ᐢ₎ଓ ... this drabble or fic is inspired by this (nsfw) audio over here, azeru's patreon is so juicy it makes my punani throb over and over. esp this one omfg hear this audio before u read it idc it's so ughhjdfjsjkskj

"stop teasin' me baby," he rasped while his gaze averted down, seeing you give his cock slow and deliberate pumps before your thumb presses firmly but gently down his red tip. thin and thick ropes of his previous orgasm dripped down his length and balls, with each stroke and pump you give to him leaves his body into shambles, lewdly moaning out your name and his back arching in pure bliss was a balm to your shell.

his breath caught his throat once your strokes grew quicker, his claws digging down to the soft pillows that were sprawled around the bed,"ohfuck- don't stop.." a low groan bubbled within his throat, throwing his head back against the headboard as his body jerked. a soft giggled elicited from your lips, seeing his fucked out state from just a few handjobs,"what if i stopped?" you asked coyly, a playful glint capturing your eyes as itto grew a little frustrated,"don't stop- m' bein' serious baby... d-don't stop," he tried hard enough to sound stern and to at least make you obey his requests, but he sounded so pathetic; his cracked whines and whimpers only fueled your desire to tease him further.

you felt in awe, enjoying such an erotic scene that landed upon your eyes. his reactions evident to your touch as his lower abdomen were being left with strings of cum as his cock was sheen with slick and pre,"gonna cum, gonna cum.." he whimpered, his breath quickening as his chest rose and fell at a fast pace,"hmm? oni s'gonna cum already?" you cooed teasingly but all that you received was a rumbling groan that was heard from his mouth, he chewed down his lower lip that little points of his canines were shown. just before he was about to reach his sweet release, he felt something completely neglect his starving cock, your hand pulling out of his length as you scooted back from him; acting like as if you were leaving him,"wh- were you goin' ?!" he whined, looking at you with a confused and a frustrated expression. you only giggled in response, thinking everything is funny and that you would get the hang of this, big big mistake.

"oh no you're not," he mumbled and just as you were about to 'leave', he pounced over you, his beefy and broad figure covering half of your body as you were now pinned against the mattress. who's laughing now? the roles switched suddenly, him now being under control for all of this which is now your turn to give in your submission to him,"you're not gonna leave 'till you make me cum," he said with a low growl, one of his hands holding up his leaking cock as a way to show you what you're going to deal with the next couple of hours.

-

"moremoremore, o-ohhh my god.." he chanted repeatedly, his relentless thrusts quickening its pace as his nails dug deep into your sensitive flesh as he raised up your legs more, your knees pressing against your chest as he positioned himself in a different angle. his cock hitting all the sweet spots that make your spongy walls tighten around his length and to make your body coil in an overwhelming amount of pleasure. cracked moans and whines escape your lips as you felt his tip bulge through your stomach with each deep thrust, making him grab onto your hand and press your fingers firmly onto your lower abdomen while he continues on his quick pace, "ya feel that? look how deep i am.. fuck-" you felt his cock plunge in and out of you as sticky juices overflowed your drooling cunt from the other postions that he did before.

missionary, doggy style, downward doggy, prone bone, cow girl, reverse cowgirl, almost all of the positions that you could possibly think of were recreated by him. your brain couldn't process any longer and your thoughts were turned into mush, not thinking of anything but his thick cock just stretching your folds and folding your body like a flip phone. pearls of cum smeared all over your pussy as it dripped down your ass and onto the sheets, breeding you countless times that you just might actually be pregnant,"i'm gonna breed you, and breed you and... ohh fuckk! tighten around me again yeah?" he chuckled dryly as he leaned his upper body over to press his chest against your bouncing breasts,"mmph!- s'too muchh! fuuck gonna cum againn!" your hands were searching its way for something to grab on, but the only thing you could hold yourself onto was his horns. your fingers gently but quickly wrapped around his so what senstive horns that made him let out a loud gasp,"f-fuck, can't hold on huh?" he rasped as a chuckle escaped his lips, only for him to raise your legs just a bit higher so that he could snuggle himself deeper into your warm cunt.

"ittoo! s'deep..!" you whined, tears pooling down your cheeks as his tip assaulted your cervix. everything was so messy, so hot and sticky that the mirror of your vanity could practically fog up,"gonna cum inside you over and over again yeah? wanna make you a mommy.." itto sounded breathless, like he was running a whole track field,"gonna make this little cunt remember the shape of my dick, a-and... ohmygoddd," he moaned once he felt your walls hugging his cock tightly again, his thrusts stuttering each time as he felt close to his high,"gonna cum, gonna cum... fuck!- cumming s'muchh!" you don't even know what you're saying at this point, blabbering incoherently as desperate crys and pleas fill in his ears while you clearly are begging for release, but this was payback for what you did a few hours ago.

"yeah? y'wanna cum? what if i pull out hmm?" he teased, mimicking the same thing that you did to him while you were stroking his cock,"nonono! please- ohmygod don't pull out ittoo!" you rolled your hips, trying to reach in for that sweet release before his thrusts grew sharper and more forceful,"yeaah, you fuckin' slut... want me to fill ya up yeah? you want that?" a mocking expression was evident in his face, nails digging into your flesh as he ravaged your insides, your cunt growing senstive as you kept on repeating "gonna cum!".

with one final thrust he managed to spill his seed inside your, filling you to the brim again. a low growl elicited from his throat, closing his eyes shut as the pleasure loomed over the both of you, bringing eachother to the bink of ecstasy as everything turned into a blurr. a squeal escaped your mouth and it was music to his ears, your body tensing up from the pleasure as the smell of sex was present within the room,"look at you, ohh yesyesyes... let it out baby, mhm," he reassures as he kept on rocking his hips back and forth, stimulating your aftershocks. you looked absolutely destroyed, hair sprawled in the pillows, chest heaving heavily, body trembling and shivering with each caress and touch he could give, and your insides feeling overly sensitive.

after itto collected himself he looked down at you. you still were in shambles, a pure, filthy mess just for him to see. he chuckled as worry washes over him a little bit, did he go too overboard? was it actually too much for you to handle?

he felt your grip on his horns loosen, your arms falling back down into the mattress like a noodle as you were still catching your breath,"a-are you okay? i didn't go too far, did i?" he asked with slight concern, his big hands massaging your hips as he tried to ease your body after such an intense moment,"n-no... m' fine.." you managed to get those words out of your mouth as itto let out a relieved sigh,"thank god, did it hurt or anything?" he smiled softly, his body relaxing as he swallowed in your expressions. even though you were a complete mess you were still beautiful from his point of view, you chuckled lightly from how worried he was which only made you pull him in for a soft kiss. he was taken aback from the sudden move but he found himself melting to your touch, but... he grew hard, again.

he hissed in pleasure as he could feel his erection growing,"look at what you did, makin' me hard again from just a kiss.." itto found the situation silly, but of course he could go in for another round of pounding info you, only if you want to though. your eyes averted down to his throbbing cock, seeing his tip leak with pre-cum, you gulped nervously now having to deal with who knows what round of getting fucked dumb,"c'mere..." he beckoned with his hand, pulling you close to him until your tits stick against his sweaty chest. his hips moved slowly and deliberately, one of his hand wrapped around you as the other held up your thigh to reach in deeper,"i'll be gentle, i promise..." he whispered softly, but you know damn well he'll be rough like he was before. nodding gently, you were sure you'll have to hold on tight against him, for the last time.

"i promise my ass.."

© nu11lar 2023 - do not plagiarize, translate, copy, or steal my work. all credits to the writing go to me and me only.

[secriden]

so i wonder if anyone else has thoughts about mame's choices regarding sky vs tongrak's stories and how she tackled the complexity of loving and being loved.

when i first heard about love sea, i saw a lot of people say that fortpeat were just re-cast as sky and prapai but with tongrak being older and richer than mahasamut. personally, i think that's a pretty reductionist view because mame explored the idea of being afraid to love and be loved from very different angles and perspective in these two stories.

i will give that there are some similarities on the surface - peat's character does that whole 'pretends to hate it but secretly loves it' thing; the cat-like 'push and pull' thing and fort's character is still a overly excited, loveable golden retriever of a human being with a strong sense of self; also both sky and tongrak have had experiences which make them both fearful of 'love'.

but i think while sky's main fear is being loved, tongrak's is very much a fear of loving.

like, sky's story is very... raw. it's an exposed nerve, tender and painful and present. sky's fear is so immediately tied to his trauma which he's still in the throes of. the betrayal he faced was from the one who claimed to love him and it's telling that sky's first flashback is not triggered by his feelings FOR prapai but by prapai expressing his 'love' for him. this trauma is intimate and physical and close, but that means that the start of his healing journey can begin because of an external force (prapai) giving him that safety but also physically removing the threat. when sky begins to feel safe again, he is able to begin healing.

in contrast: tongrak's trauma is relatively... hmmm, separated (? not the best word but...) on a physical level. it doesn't make it less or even less painful (or more, or more painful), but his fear of love largely stems from how he sees the people immediately around him being hurt by love. he's internalised the idea that love doesn't last. mahasamut starts confessing his feelings pretty early on; like episode 4 mahasamut straight up goes, 'well you can't stop me from loving you' and tongrak's disapproving but he's not triggered. what's the difference between this and episode 10, i think, is that tongrak's actively fighting his own awareness of his feelings for mahasamut. it's why his fight or flight response is triggered by vie calling him out about his feelings in episode 8 and also why he tries to force parameters back into their relationship (my take: i don't care if you love me but i won't love you) in episode 10. but it's also why his healing doesn't actually come from an external force - yes, vie kind of knocks him out of his depressed stupor by hiding the bracelet, but note that tongrak's has that breakdown realisation ('please come back, i'm sorry, i'm sorry, can't you please come back to me? i'm afraid you'll end up hating me (emphasis added) if you love me') before he has that chat with vie. he's already realised that the root of his fear of mahasamut's love isn't the love itself, but the fear that if he admits his own love for mahasamut, it will eventually get betrayed. it's also why even after he resolves that he wants to try at a relationship with mahasamut, he still can't say it. at this point, his father's a non-entity in terms of the fear of him going after his loved ones - he's already been proven a weakling and a coward and also they're physically on the island so removed from jak that it shouldn't be an immediate fear anymore. no; this struggle is completely internal and it's why we linger on his heartbreaking attempts to confess (also, love sea had some pacing issues but i'm so so grateful they took time to show this part; bless fort for insisting on it!). tongrak's afraid to love but he pushes and pushes himself, and finally breaks through and its entirely on his own terms because of his own strength.

i'm not saying sky's weaker for (in a sense) needing someone else to rescue him before he could heal, but i think it just speaks to mame really telling quite a different story of healing with tongrak.

like... have you ever thought you'd healed from something and then it comes back in an unexpected way but then your response to the trigger is also different? the pain is there but it's... at once deeper but also more distant? a deep pulse rather than a high pitched shriek? and the way you go about beginning this new phase of healing is also different? i think that's whats happening here.

it's fascinating how us humans can fear vulnerability in so many ways, so many forms, on so many levels but i think the lesson mame's stories tell is that sometimes it really is worth it to become vulnerable. not with everyone, and not all the time (goodness, that would be foolish). but also, keep holding onto hope. keep looking for that right person, keep being kind to yourself and others. know that it's ok if your healing feels different, if you didn't catch it some point in the past, its not too late.

you'll be ok.

[cutetanuki-chan]

Heyo sorry for the spam. So this is crazy. I've been around since like you posted amphibia stuff and then you switched to tlt which I appreciate because that's how I became aware of its existence. Anyways I FINALLY read gtn and I didn't love the ending :') since I'm so attached to Gideon. Idk should I keep reading? Ik she doesn't exactly come back and I'm kind of like very attached to the gtn version. But I'm also interested to see where the story goes from here

PS sorry for the spam. I love your art

aww thank you sticking for so long :'33 and glad you got into the series!

I would always recommend continuing the books, cause the experience of reading just gtn as a stand alone vs the whole series is just incomparable, it gives a completely different view on the whole story, and the re read after that worth so much

and you might get attach to other characters on the way, to the new ones or former ones that got more time or a different angle to them, I heard a lot of people started liking Harrow a lot more after her book

but depends how much you liked the writing and a world and story in a whole, cause next books might be hard to go through and vibes a lot different from the murder mystery in the first book. but if you wanna know more about the story, there's a bunch to uncover

and it's also a book about necromancy, death barely means the end, we do all miss Gideon terrible, but she's still a very crucial key to the story

and in my opinion stopping at gtn would make her feel even more gone

[itsbenedict]

alright, i just got around to finishing Dungeon Meshi- and damn if it didn't stick the landing!

there's a lot to recommend in this manga. first- it's extraordinarily fucking funny. it does not forget that it's a comic, and consistently has great visual gags even when something deeply fucked up and serious is happening.

and it fires on all other cylinders, too- the character designs are great, the worldbuilding is intricate and believable and does a lot of interesting things with standard fantasy tropes, the main cast is likable and has a great dynamic, the story keeps a lot of plates spinning without getting up its own ass or forgetting the details...

but the thing that really impresses me about Dungeon Meshi- the thing that sticks out as something it does uniquely well- is the theming.

Dungeon Meshi is about hunger and eating. it is about those things, hardcore. just about every plot point and every character dynamic is about that theme, approached from a dazzling array of different angles. it's got plenty to say about like, actual food and cooking, sure- but it also gets into the nature of desire, the cycle of predation, differing personal tastes, taking the other into oneself, satiation vs motivation... it makes sure that every development in the story is grounded in and building on that theme somehow.

Food is not a gimmick- Food is what the story is about, and not as a bit. this isn't a silly food-world full of food-creatures and food-magic- this is a normal, well-developed fantasy setting, in which a story is being told that focuses relentlessly on the relationship of the characters to food and eating. it manages to feel completely natural, even with so much going on that you'd think the food thing would get in the way. it doesn't get in the way. the story was designed around it, down to the smallest detail.

i think it might be a 10/10 manga! it does everything it sets out to do, completely successfully, with a ton of humor and charm. well-paced, well-drawn, well-written, good ending- i can't think of anything to complain about. highly recommended.

[stopper-my-heart]

Let's break down the sequence at the end of Heartstopper S1E2 and beginning of S1E3 — in which Nick is working on coming to terms with the fact that he likes Charlie and Charlie is a boy — focussing on Nick.

The whole sequence masterfully sets up our understanding of Nick and his headspace via a series of contrasts.

Warning: This is a gif-filled long post with sadness ahead. (If you'd prefer a happier take related to this sequence, take a look at my other post about it.) CW: Short mention of some homophobic practises/issues in the world at the end (those shown in the show at the beginning of S1E3).

The sequence begins with Nick entering his room, but it's filmed through his bedroom window, i.e., from the outside looking in. We don't even clearly see his face. The next shot is of a photo on Instagram of Nick with his rugby friends. To me, this is drawing attention to the fact that Nick is on the outside of his friend group.

The photo itself offers a stark contrast to this idea: Nick is in the centre of his mates, literally being carried and supported by them. His face suggests he's thinking about how the photo doesn't represent reality. The photo is captioned "lads", but Nick isn't a (stereotypical) 'lad'...and may not be 'one of the lads', either, if Nick let his rugby friends really know him.

There's then a brief flash of Imogen's Insta post, which is a photo of likely herself (the person's head is out of shot) and its caption is helpfully centred for us: "stay true to yourself 🥰🌸". (This deserves its own analysis tbh.) We see Nick slightly smiling at it, but we're physically very far away from him and only move incrementally closer.

Next Nick comes across Charlie's photo from their 'snow day'. Nick isn't in the photo, but it is a photo that he took, so although it's a public post that in a way 'can't' have the two of them together in it yet, he's not completely absent from it. Nick's face is immediately much more smiley.

The comparison between Nick's reactions to the different photos hearkens back to the commentary from Nick's mum earlier in the episode (which she made, y'know, the day the photo Nick just saw was taken):

All signs point to: Nick is not true to himself with his rugby friends, (maybe a little with Imogen,) but he is with Charlie.

Back to Nick— Seeing Charlie's photo inspires Nick to switch to his camera roll which is already scrolled to his snow day photos implying that he's looked at them another time recently to look at more photos from their snow day, prompting even more smiling and a tiny laugh. Not to mention, now Nick can finally see his genuine self in the photos he's looking at.

I've been focussing on the scenes with Nick so far, but this whole sequence goes back and forth between Nick and Charlie in their respective rooms and is set up as a contrast between them. Let's look at that comparison to understand the full picture with Nick before we continue on.

We see Charlie from a comfortable/typical-to-the-viewer angle, in contrast to our view of Nick which has been almost awkwardly straight on throughout this sequence, whether in front of or behind him.

Charlie is also relaxedly lying in his bed, directly engaging with his friend group to get their input on the situation with Nick (Charlie's on the inside), compared to Nick who is sitting on the edge of his bed, kind of hunched over his phone, scrolling through photos other people are posting (on the outside looking in, and still only looking in via photos that don't tell the full story).

There are further contrasts between them, too, of course. Charlie is confident about his sexuality while Nick is questioning, so he's not confused or scared by liking Nick the way Nick is about liking Charlie.

Charlie is instead feeling hopeful at the prospect that Nick might also be interested, and we leave him for the episode with his cautious excitement about Elle's news that Tara at least isn't into Nick.

Back to Nick— In the past, Nick's typically experienced or thought about his feelings for Charlie when he's with Charlie or when there are other people around. But this time there's no Charlie to distract Nick from the scariness with his Charlie-ness (and the positive feelings of liking him), and there are no other people around to force Nick to abandon his thoughts or put a mask on.

So when Nick has his moment of fully acknowledging his romantic feelings for Charlie to himself and wondering if that might mean that he's gay (and if so, what does that mean for him?), the contrast with Charlie's fairly straightforward hopefulness and attentive support network highlights how alone Nick is, and with something more daunting.

But Nick is strong and brave, and he's not going to let that stop him.

It's after this that we get the same shot as the first one, from behind Nick, except now the camera is inside the bedroom with Nick and getting ever closer. Nick then even turns toward the camera at the end. The question is: Who is Nick, really, on the inside?

He's ready to find out, even if it's scary.

But because there are no people close to him that Nick could talk to about what's going on with him — no friends Nick can reach out to about how he's feeling, he doesn't know how his mother would respond to this, Charlie is the one he's having feelings for so he can't really talk to him about it — Nick uses what seems like the only option open to him: the internet.

And then Nick is confronted with results about violent hate crimes, conversion therapy, opposition to equal rights, discrimination, not to mention some unhelpful quizzes...so much anti-LGBTQIA+ sentiment and the horrible things that that can lead to, all whilst he's having a complete identity crisis. Nick is so alone and afraid, feeling deeply confused and misunderstood — including misunderstood by himself — and his internet reading has not only not provided clarity or a sense of being seen, but it's even highlighted that Nick may have reasons to be afraid.

And because Nick doesn't have a support network he feels he can talk to about this, he's stuck with these feelings for now.

In conclusion: This sequence breaks my heart. (If your heart is also breaking, my related post may help heal it. Or I recommend watching Heartstopper. If your heart isn't breaking, I blame my post. Go watch the end of S1E2 and the beginning of S1E3 and then come tell me that your heart is still whole)

[hotdaemondtargaryen]

TOM GLYNN-CARNEY INTERVIEWED FOR DEADLINE MAGAZINE.

IS THAT YOU LYING IN BED IN EPISODE 5, GETTING THE BURNT VALYRIAN STEEL PEELED OFF OF YOUR BODY?

"It certainly is me."

I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD. SO YOU'RE NOT DEAD YET?

"I say a word … unless dead people can speak."

SO YOU ARE SURE AS YOU'RE SITTING HERE, YOU ARE NOT DEAD.

"I’m not dead yet."

LET'S BACK UP TO THE DAY WHEN YOU SHOT THAT EPIC DRAGON FIGHT.

"Well, that day was, in fact, probably about three weeks work, trying to get all these certain angles and these set pieces together."

"It takes a while to coordinate something like that."

"And it was great fun."

"It was a little different."

"The stuff I had to do previously with the big dialogue, the heavy council scenes and the moments in the pub … that felt more theatrical."

"And by theatrical, I don’t mean hammy and stuff, I mean being in theater and doing a play."

"But this [dragon fight] felt very filmic, being strapped into this crane and having this big camera on a long hydraulic arm thrown in your face."

"There were lots of green screens and gray screens and tennis balls on sticks and wind machines."

"It was great."

"It was a big learning curve for me as well, because I’ve never done anything quite as elaborate as that before in terms of CGI work."

DO YOU THINK CRISTON SAW WHAT AEMOND DID TO AEGON'S DRAGON IN THAT FIGHT? THAG AEMOND IS TO BLAME?

"Criston definitely sees Aegon on the ground and Aemond near him with his sword drawn."

"So he can make his own mind up about Aemond’s intentions, which is still unclear even to me."

"I’m not sure the story was there."

"There could be various outcomes."

WHAT HAS IT BEEN LIKE TO PLAY SOMEBODY WHO'S SO BLOODY UNLIKABLE?

"So you’re not team Aegon, then?"

"Who wants to be liked?"

"Where’s the fun in that?"

"I think it’s great playing someone like Aegon because he’s so unpredictable."

"He’s so volatile."

"He’s not just someone who people don’t like."

"He’s a tragic case."

"He’s a complete and utter tragedy of a person, and I feel deeply, deeply sorry for him."

"And I guess that’s kind of why I’ve wanted to investigate his vulnerabilities, his fragilities and his boyishness, all the things that he lacks in his life that kind of inform his decisions, that have given him a certain reputation."

"There’s a lot to unpack in him."

"He’s way more layered and complex than just an unlikable character."

IT'S BEEN AN INTERESTING JOURNEY WATCHING AEGON AND AEMOND BECAUSE THEY'RE OBVIOUSLY BAD KIDS, WHICH DOESN'T MAKE SENSE BECAUSE IT'S NOT LIKE THEIR DAD WAS AN AWFUL GUY. SO WHERE DOES THAT BADNESS COME FROM?

"I dunno."

"I mean, they’ve got Targaryen blood running through them, so there’s going to be an element of madness somewhere."

"I think if they had a different upbringing and a different experience of childhood, things may have been different."

"If they had the treatment that Rhaenyra got, for example, their lives could be different."

"She was very much the golden child."

"She came first."

"She was the one whose picture was on the fridge."

"So yeah, I think that in many ways they’re a product of their history and their upbringing."

"But then again, they’re spoiled as well."

"They’ve never had to work for anything and that can have its effects."

"That’s probably a question for a psychologist, not for me."

WHY DOES HE DISLIKE HIS BROTHER SO MUCH?

"I don’t think he does."

BUT HE WAS SUCH A SHIT TO HIM IN THAT BROTHEL SCENE.

"That’s brothers."

"Aegon was pissed off that for weeks that Aemond has been in the small council and he’d been conniving and plotting with Criston behind his back."

"That kind of clique-ness and keeping Aegon out of the situation for Aemond’s own self-gain, knowing that Aegon would take over the position of King should he get the opportunity, Aegon needed to bring him down a peg."

"I don’t think it come from a place of disliking him."

It comes from a place of being like, ‘you are my little brother, know your place.’

"It’s dismissiveness and also, I’m from Manchester."

"From where I’m from, there are so many sibling relationships that are completely flawed and fractured."

"It’s very normal for me."

"I’m lucky I have a great relationship with my sibling, but it’s very normal and not out of the ordinary at all for you to see two siblings who actively want to hurt each other."

"It doesn’t come from hatred."

"That’s just the way people behave."

[boygirlctommy]

HOLY SHIT my madineau kids are 2 years old already!!!

Help girl I’m making another story!

[caesarflickermans]

A TENTH ANNIVERSARY INTERVIEW WITH SUZANNE COLLINS

On the occasion of the tenth anniversary of the publication of The Hunger Games, author Suzanne Collins and publisher David Levithan discussed the evolution of the story, the editorial process, and the first ten years of the life of the trilogy, encompassing both books and films. The following is their written conversation.

NOTE: The following interview contains a discussion of all three books in The Hunger Games Trilogy, so if you have yet to read Catching Fire and Mockingjay, you may want to read them before reading the full interview.

transcript below

DAVID LEVITHAN: Let’s start at the origin moment for The Hunger Games. You were flipping channels one night . . .

SUZANNE COLLINS: Yes, I was flipping through the channels one night between reality television programs and actual footage of the Iraq War, when the idea came to me. At the time, I was completing the fifth book in The Underland Chronicles and my brain was shifting to whatever the next project would be. I had been grappling with another story that just couldn’t get any air under its wings. I knew I wanted to continue to explore writing about just war theory for young audiences. In The Underland Chronicles, I’d examined the idea of an unjust war developing into a just war because of greed, xenophobia, and long-standing hatreds. For the next series, I wanted a completely new world and a different angle into the just war debate.

DL: Can you tell me what you mean by the “just war theory” and how that applies to the setup of the trilogy?

SC: Just war theory has evolved over thousands of years in an attempt to define what circumstances give you the moral right to wage war and what is acceptable behavior within that war and its aftermath. The why and the how. It helps differentiate between what’s considered a necessary and an unnecessary war. In The Hunger Games Trilogy, the districts rebel against their own government because of its corruption. The citizens of the districts have no basic human rights, are treated as slave labor, and are subjected to the Hunger Games annually. I believe the majority of today’s audience would define that as grounds for revolution. They have just cause but the nature of the conflict raises a lot of questions. Do the districts have the authority to wage war? What is their chance of success? How does the reemergence of District 13 alter the situation? When we enter the story, Panem is a powder keg and Katniss the spark.

DL: As with most novelists I know, once you have that origin moment — usually a connection of two elements (in this case, war and entertainment) — the number of connections quickly increases, as different elements of the story take their place. I know another connection you made early on was with mythology, particularly the myth of Theseus. How did that piece come to fit?

SC: I was such a huge Greek mythology geek as a kid, it’s impossible for it not to come into play in my storytelling. As a young prince of Athens, he participated in a lottery that required seven girls and seven boys to be taken to Crete and thrown into a labyrinth to be destroyed by the Minotaur. In one version of the myth, this excessively cruel punishment resulted from the Athenians opposing Crete in a war. Sometimes the labyrinth’s a maze; sometimes it’s an arena. In my teens I read Mary Renault’s The King Must Die, in which the tributes end up in the Bull Court. They’re trained to perform with a wild bull for an audience composed of the elite of Crete who bet on the entertainment. Theseus and his team dance and handspring over the bull in what’s called bull-leaping. You can see depictions of this in ancient sculpture and vase paintings. The show ended when they’d either exhausted the bull or one of the team had been killed. After I read that book, I could never go back to thinking of the labyrinth as simply a maze, except perhaps ethically. It will always be an arena to me.

DL: But in this case, you dispensed with the Minotaur, no? Instead, the arena harkens more to gladiator vs. gladiator than to gladiator vs. bull. What influenced this construction?

SC: A fascination with the gladiator movies of my childhood, particularly Spartacus. Whenever it ran, I’d be glued to the set. My dad would get outPlutarch’s Lives and read me passages from “Life of Crassus,” since Spartacus, being a slave, didn’t rate his own book. It’s about a person who’s forced to become a gladiator, breaks out of the gladiator school/arena to lead a rebellion, and becomes the face of a war. That’s the dramatic arc of both the real-life Third Servile War and the fictional Hunger Games Trilogy.

DL: Can you talk about how war stories influenced you as a young reader, and then later as a writer? How did this knowledge of war stories affect your approach to writing The Hunger Games?

SC: Now you can find many wonderful books written for young audiences that deal with war. That wasn’t the case when I was growing up. It was one of the reasons Greek mythology appealed to me: the characters battled, there was the Trojan War. My family had been heavily impacted by war the year my father, who was career Air Force, went to Vietnam, but except for my myths, I rarely encountered it in books. I liked Johnny Tremain but it ends as the Revolutionary War kicks off. The one really memorable book I had about war was Boris by Jaap ter Haar, which deals with the Siege of Leningrad in World War II.

My war stories came from my dad, a historian and a doctor of political science. The four years before he left for Vietnam, the Army borrowed him from the Air Force to teach at West Point. His final assignment would be at Air Command and Staff College. As his kids, we were never too young to learn, whether he was teaching us history or taking us on vacation to a battlefield or posing a philosophical dilemma. He approached history as a story, and fortunately he was a very engaging storyteller. As a result, in my own writing, war felt like a completely natural topic for children.

DL: Another key piece of The Hunger Games is the voice and perspective that Katniss brings to it. I know some novelists start with a character and then find a story through that character, but with The Hunger Games (and correct me if I’m wrong) I believe you had the idea for the story first, and then Katniss stepped into it. Where did she come from? I’d love for you to talk about the origin of her name, and also the origin of her very distinctive voice.

SC: Katniss appeared almost immediately after I had the idea, standing by the bed with that bow and arrow. I’d spent a lot of time during The Underland Chronicles weighing the attributes of different weapons. I used archers very sparingly because they required light and the Underland has little natural illumination. But a bow and arrow can be handmade, shot from a distance, and weaponized when the story transitions into warfare. She was a born archer.

Her name came later, while I was researching survival training and specifically edible plants. In one of my books, I found the arrowhead plant, and the more I read about it, the more it seemed to reflect her. Its Latin name has the same roots as Sagittarius, the archer. The edible tuber roots she could gather, the arrowhead-shaped leaves were her defense, and the little white blossoms kept it in the tradition of flower names, like Rue and Primrose. I looked at the list of alternative names for it. Swamp Potato. Duck Potato. Katniss easily won the day.

As to her voice, I hadn’t intended to write in first person. I thought the book would be in the third person like The Underland Chronicles. Then I sat down to work and the first page poured out in first person, like she was saying, “Step aside, this is my story to tell.” So I let her.

DL: I am now trying to summon an alternate universe where the Mockingjay is named Swamp Potato Everdeen. Seems like a PR challenge. But let’s stay for a second on the voice — because it’s not a straightforward, generic American voice. There’s a regionalism to it, isn’t there? Was that present from the start?

SC: It was. There’s a slight District 12 regionalism to it, and some of the other tributes use phrases unique to their regions as well. The way they speak, particularly the way in which they refuse to speak like citizens of the Capitol, is important to them. No one in District 12 wants to sound like Effie Trinket unless they’re mocking her. So they hold on to their regionalisms as a quiet form of rebellion. The closest thing they have to freedom of speech is their manner of speaking.

DL: I’m curious about Katniss’s family structure. Was it always as we see it, or did you ever consider giving her parents greater roles? How much do you think the Everdeen family’s story sets the stage for Katniss’s story within the trilogy?

SC: Her parents have their own histories in District 12 but I only included what’s pertinent to Katniss’s tale. Her father’s hunting skills, musicality, and death in the mines. Her mother’s healing talent and vulnerabilities. Her deep love for Prim. Those are the elements that seemed essential to me.

DL: This completely fascinates me because I, as an author, rarely know more (consciously) about the characters than what’s in the story. But this sounds like you know much more about the Everdeen parents than found their way to the page. What are some of the more interesting things about them that a reader wouldn’t necessarily know?

SC: Your way sounds a lot more efficient. I have a world of information about the characters that didn’t make it into the book. With some stories, revealing that could be illuminating, but in the case of The Hunger Games, I think it would only be a distraction unless it was part of a new tale within the world of Panem.

DL: I have to ask — did you know from the start how Prim’s story was going to end? (I can’t imagine writing the reaping scene while knowing — but at the same time I can’t imagine writing it without knowing.)

SC: You almost have to know it and not know it at the same time to write it convincingly, because the dramatic question, Can Katniss save Prim?, is introduced in the first chapter of the first book, and not answered until almost the end of the trilogy. At first there’s the relief that, yes, she can volunteer for Prim. Then Rue, who reminds her of Prim, joins her in the arena and she can’t save her. That tragedy refreshes the question. For most of the second book, Prim’s largely out of harm’s way, although there’s always the threat that the Capitol might hurt her to hurt Katniss. The jabberjays are a reminder of that. Once she’s in District 13 and the war has shifted to the Capitol, Katniss begins to hope Prim’s not only safe but has a bright future as a doctor. But it’s an illusion. The danger that made Prim vulnerable in the beginning, the threat of the arena, still exists. In the first book, it’s a venue for the Games; in the second, the platform for the revolution; in the third, it’s the battleground of Panem, coming to a head in the Capitol. The arena transforms but it’s never eradicated; in fact it’s expanded to include everyone in the country. Can Katniss save Prim? No. Because no one is safe while the arena exists.

DL: If Katniss was the first character to make herself known within story, when did Peeta and Gale come into the equation? Did you know from the beginning how their stories would play out vis-à-vis Katniss’s?

SC: Peeta and Gale appeared quickly, less as two points on a love triangle, more as two perspectives in the just war debate. Gale, because of his experiences and temperament, tends toward violent remedies. Peeta’s natural inclination is toward diplomacy. Katniss isn’t just deciding on a partner; she’s figuring out her worldview.

DL: And did you always know which worldview would win? It’s interesting to see it presented in such a clear-cut way, because when I think of Katniss, I certainly think of force over diplomacy.

SC: And yet Katniss isn’t someone eager to engage in violence and she takes no pleasure in it. Her circumstances repeatedly push her into making choices that include the use of force. But if you look carefully at what happens in the arena, her compassionate choices determine her survival. Taking on Rue as an ally results in Thresh sparing her life. Seeking out Peeta and caring for him when she discovers how badly wounded he is ultimately leads to her winning the Games. She uses force only in self-defense or defense of a third party, and I’m including Cato’s mercy killing in that. As the trilogy progresses, it becomes increasingly difficult to avoid the use of force because the overall violence is escalating with the war. The how and the why become harder to answer.

Yes, I knew which worldview would win, but in the interest of examining just war theory you need to make the arguments as strongly as possible on both sides. While Katniss ultimately chooses Peeta, remember that in order to end the Hunger Games her last act is to assassinate an unarmed woman. Conversely, in The Underland Chronicles, Gregor’s last act is to break his sword to interrupt the cycle of violence. The point of both stories is to take the reader through the journey, have them confront the issues with the protagonist, and then hopefully inspire them to think about it and discuss it. What would they do in Katniss’s or Gregor’s situation? How would they define a just or unjust war and what behavior is acceptable within warfare? What are the human costs of life, limb, and sanity? How does developing technology impact the debate? The hope is that better discussions might lead to more nonviolent forms of conflict resolution, so we evolve out of choosing war as an option.

DL: Where does Haymitch fit into this examination of war? What worldview does he bring?

SC: Haymitch was badly damaged in his own war, the second Quarter Quell, in which he witnessed and participated in terrible things in order to survive and then saw his loved ones killed for his strategy. He self-medicates with white liquor to combat severe PTSD. His chances of recovery are compromised because he’s forced to mentor the tributes every year. He’s a version of what Katniss might become, if the Hunger Games continues. Peeta comments on how similar they are, and it’s true. They both really struggle with their worldview. He manages to defuse the escalating violence at Gale’s whipping with words, but he participates in a plot to bring down the government that will entail a civil war.

The ray of light that penetrates that very dark cloud in his brain is the moment that Katniss volunteers for Prim. He sees, as do many people in Panem, the power of her sacrifice. And when that carries into her Games, with Rue and Peeta, he slowly begins to believe that with Katniss it might be possible to end the Hunger Games.

DL: I’m also curious about how you balanced the personal and political in drawing the relationship between Katniss and Gale. They have such a history together — and I think you powerfully show the conflict that arises when you love someone, but don’t love what they believe in. (I think that resonates particularly now, when so many families and relationships and friendships have been disrupted by politics.)

SC: Yes, I think it’s painful, especially because they feel so in tune in so many ways. Katniss’s and Gale’s differences of opinion are based in just war theory. Do we revolt? How do we conduct ourselves in the war? And the ethical and personal lines climax at the same moment — the double tap bombing that takes Prim’s life. But it’s rarely simple; there are a lot of gray areas. It’s complicated by Peeta often holding a conflicting view while being the rival for her heart, so the emotional pull and the ethical pull become so intertwined it’s impossible to separate them. What do you do when someone you love, someone you know to be a good person, has a view which completely opposes your own? You keep trying to understand what led to the difference and see if it can be bridged. Maybe, maybe not. I think many conflicts grow out of fear, and in an attempt to counter that fear, people reach for solutions that may be comforting in the short term, but only increase their vulnerability in the long run and cause a lot of destruction along the way.

DL: In drawing Gale’s and Peeta’s roles in the story, how conscious were you of the gender inversion from traditional narrative tropes? As you note above, both are important far beyond any romantic subplot, but I do think there’s something fascinating about the way they both reinscribe roles that would traditionally be that of the “girlfriend.” Gale in particular gets to be “the girl back home” from so many Westerns and adventure movies — but of course is so much more than that. And Peeta, while a very strong character in his own right, often has to take a backseat to Katniss and her strategy, both in and out of the arena. Did you think about them in terms of gender and tropes, or did that just come naturally as the characters did what they were going to do on the page?

SC: It came naturally because, while Gale and Peeta are very important characters, it’s Katniss’s story.

DL: For Peeta . . . why baking?

SC: Bread crops up a lot in The Hunger Games. It’s the main food source in the districts, as it was for many people historically. When Peeta throws a starving Katniss bread in the flashback, he’s keeping her alive long enough to work out a strategy for survival. It seemed in keeping with his character to be a baker, a life giver.

But there’s a dark side to bread, too. When Plutarch Heavensbee references it, he’s talking about Panem et Circenses, Bread and Circuses, where food and entertainment lull people into relinquishing their political power. Bread can contribute to life or death in the Hunger Games.

DL: Speaking of Plutarch — in a meta way, the two of you share a job (although when you do it, only fictional people die). When you were designing the arena for the first book, what influences came into play? Did you design the arena and then have the participants react to it, or did you design the arena with specific reactions and plot points in mind?

SC: Katniss has a lot going against her in the first arena — she’s inexperienced, smaller than a lot of her competitors, and hasn’t the training of the Careers — so the arena needed to be in her favor. The landscape closely resembles the woods around District 12, with similar flora and fauna. She can feed herself and recognize the nightlock as poisonous. Thematically, the Girl on Fire needed to encounter fire at some point, so I built that in. I didn’t want it too physically flashy, because the audience needs to focus on the human dynamic, the plight of the star-crossed lovers, the alliance with Rue, the twist that two tributes can survive from the same district. Also, the Gamemakers would want to leave room for a noticeable elevation in spectacle when the Games move to the Quarter Quell arena in Catching Fire with the more intricate clock design.

DL: So where does Plutarch fall into the just war spectrum? There are many layers to his involvement in what’s going on.

SC: Plutarch is the namesake of the biographer Plutarch, and he’s one of the few characters who has a sense of the arc of history. He’s never lived in a world without the Hunger Games; it was well established by the time he was born and then he rose through the ranks to become Head Gamemaker. At some point, he’s gone from accepting that the Games are necessary to deciding they’re unnecessary, and he sets about ending them. Plutarch has a personal agenda as well. He’s seen so many of his peers killed off, like Seneca Crane, that he wonders how long it will be before the mad king decides he’s a threat not an asset. It’s no way to live. And as a gamemaker among gamemakers, he likes the challenge of the revolution. But even after they succeed he questions how long the resulting peace will last. He has a fairly low opinion of human beings, but ultimately doesn’t rule out that they might be able to change.

DL: When it comes to larger world building, how much did you know about Panem before you started writing? If I had asked you, while you were writing the opening pages, “Suzanne, what’s the primary industry of District Five?” would you have known the answer, or did those details emerge to you when they emerged within the writing of the story?

SC: Before I started writing I knew there were thirteen districts — that’s a nod to the thirteen colonies — and that they’d each be known for a specific industry. I knew 12 would be coal and most of the others were set, but I had a few blanks that naturally filled in as the story evolved. When I was little we had that board game, Game of the States, where each state was identified by its exports. And even today we associate different locations in the country with a product, with seafood or wine or tech. Of course, it’s a very simplified take on Panem. No district exists entirely by its designated trade. But for purposes of the Hunger Games, it’s another way to divide and define the districts.

DL: How do you think being from District 12 defines Katniss, Peeta, and Gale? Could they have been from any other district, or is their residency in 12 formative for the parts of their personalities that drive the story?

SC: Very formative. District 12 is the joke district, small and poor, rarely producing a victor in the Hunger Games. As a result, the Capitol largely ignores it. The enforcement of the laws is lax, the relationship with the Peacekeepers less hostile. This allows the kids to grow up far less constrained than in other districts. Katniss and Gale become talented archers by slipping off in the woods to hunt. That possibility of training with a weapon is unthinkable in, say, District 11, with its oppressive military presence. Finnick’s trident and Johanna’s ax skills develop as part of their districts’ industries, but they would never be allowed access to those weapons outside of work. Also, Katniss, Peeta, and Gale view the Capitol in a different manner by virtue of knowing their Peacekeepers better. Darius, in the Hob, is considered a friend, and he proves himself to be so more than once. This makes the Capitol more approachable on a level, more possible to befriend, and more possible to defeat. More human.

DL: Let’s talk about the Capitol for a moment — particularly its most powerful resident. I know that every name you give a character is deliberate, so why President Snow?

SC: Snow because of its coldness and purity. That’s purity of thought, although most people would consider it pure evil. His methods are monstrous, but in his mind, he’s all that’s holding Panem together. His first name, Coriolanus, is a nod to the titular character in Shakespeare’s play who was based on material from Plutarch’s Lives. He was known for his anti-populist sentiments, and Snow is definitely not a man of the people.

DL: The bond between Katniss and Snow is one of the most interesting in the entire series. Because even when they are in opposition, there seems to be an understanding between them that few if any of the other characters in the trilogy share. What role do you feel Snow plays for Katniss — and how does this fit into your examination of war?

SC: On the surface, she’s the face of the rebels, he’s the face of the Capitol. Underneath, things are a lot more complicated. Snow’s quite old under all that plastic surgery. Without saying too much, he’s been waiting for Katniss for a long time. She’s the worthy opponent who will test the strength of his citadel, of his life’s work. He’s the embodiment of evil to her, with the power of life and death. They’re obsessed with each other to the point of being blinded to the larger picture. “I was watching you, Mockingjay. And you were watching me. I’m afraid we have both been played for fools.” By Coin, that is. And then their unholy alliance at the end brings her down.

DL: One of the things that both Snow and Katniss realize is the power of media and imagery on the population. Snow may appear heartless to some, but he is very attuned to the “hearts and minds” of his citizens . . . and he is also attuned to the danger of losing them to Katniss. What role do you see propaganda playing in the war they’re waging?

SC: Propaganda decides the outcome of the war. This is why Plutarch implements the airtime assault; he understands that whoever controls the airwaves controls the power. Like Snow, he’s been waiting for Katniss, because he needs a Spartacus to lead his campaign. There have been possible candidates, like Finnick, but no one else has captured the imagination of the country like she has.

DL: In terms of the revolution, appearance matters — and two of the characters who seem to understand this the most are Cinna and Caesar Flickerman, one in a principled way, one . . . not as principled. How did you draw these two characters into your themes?

SC: That’s exactly right. Cinna uses his artistic gifts to woo the crowd with spectacle and beauty. Even after his death, his Mockingjay costume designs are used in the revolution. Caesar, whose job is to maintain the myth of the glorious games, transitions into warfare with the prisoner of war interviews with Peeta. They are both helping to keep up appearances.

DL: As a writer, you studiously avoided the trope of harkening back to the “old” geography — i.e., there isn’t a character who says, “This was once a land known as . . . Delaware.” (And thank goodness for that.) Why did you decide to avoid pinning down Panem to our contemporary geography?

SC: The geography has changed because of natural and man-made disasters, so it’s not as simple as overlaying a current map on Panem. But more importantly, it’s not relevant to the story. Telling the reader the continent gives them the layout in general, but borders are very changeful. Look at how the map of North America has evolved in the past 300 years. It makes little difference to Katniss what we called Panem in the past.

DL: Let’s talk about the D word. When you sat down to write The Hunger Games, did you think of it as a dystopian novel?

SC: I thought of it as a war story. I love dystopia, but it will always be secondary to that. Setting the trilogy in a futuristic North America makes it familiar enough to relate to but just different enough to gain some perspective. When people ask me how far in the future it’s set, I say, “It depends on how optimistic you are.”

DL: What do you think it was about the world into which the book was published that made it viewed so prominently as a dystopia?

SC: In the same way most people would define The Underland Chronicles as a fantasy series, they would define The Hunger Games as a dystopian trilogy, and they’d be right. The elements of the genres are there in both cases. But they’re first and foremost war stories to me. The thing is, whether you came for the war, dystopia, action adventure, propaganda, coming of age, or romance, I’m happy you’re reading it. Everyone brings their own experiences to the book that will color how they interpret it. I imagine the number of people who immediately identify it as a just war theory story are in the minority, but most stories are more than one thing.

DL: What was the relationship between current events and the world you were drawing? I know that with many speculative writers, they see something in the news and find it filtering into their fictional world. Were you reacting to the world around you, or was your reaction more grounded in a more timeless and/or historical consideration of war?

SC: I would say the latter. Some authors — okay, you for instance — can digest events quickly and channel them into their writing, as you did so effectively with September 11 in Love Is the Higher Law. But I don’t process and integrate things rapidly, so history works better for me.

DL: There’s nothing I like more than talking to writers about writing — so I’d love to ask about your process (even though I’ve always found the word process to be far too orderly to describe how a writer’s mind works).

As I recall, when we at Scholastic first saw the proposal for The Hunger Games Trilogy, the summary of the first book was substantial, the summary for the second book was significantly shorter, and the summary of the third book was . . . remarkably brief. So, first question: Did you stick to that early outline?

SC: I had to go back and take a look. Yes, I stuck to it very closely, but as you point out, the third book summary is remarkably brief. I basically tell you there’s a war that the Capitol eventually loses. Just coming off The Underland Chronicles, which also ends with a war, I think I’d seen how much develops along the way and wanted that freedom for this series as well.

DL: Would you outline books two and three as you were writing book one? Or would you just take notes for later? Was this the same or different from what you did with The Underland Chronicles?

SC: Structure’s one of my favorite parts of writing. I always work a story out with Post-its, sometimes using different colors for different character arcs. I create a chapter grid, as well, and keep files for later books, so that whenever I have an idea that might be useful, I can make a note of it. I wrote scripts for many years before I tried books, so a lot of my writing habits developed through that experience.

DL: Would you deliberately plant things in book one to bloom in books two or three? Are there any seeds you planted in the first book that you ended up not growing?

SC: Oh, yes, I definitely planted things. For instance, Johanna Mason is mentioned in the third chapter of the first book although she won’t appear until Catching Fire. Plutarch is that unnamed gamemaker who falls into the punch bowl when she shoots the arrow. Peeta whispers “Always” in Catching Fire when Katniss is under the influence of sleep syrup but she doesn’t hear the word until after she’s been shot in Mockingjay. Sometimes you just don’t have time to let all the seeds grow, or you cut them out because they don’t really add to the story. Like those wild dogs that roam around District 12. One could potentially have been tamed, but Buttercup stole their thunder.

DL: Since much of your early experience as a writer was as a playwright, I’m curious: What did you learn as a playwright that helped you as a novelist?

SC: I studied theater for many years — first acting, then playwriting — and I have a particular love for classical theater. I formed my ideas about structure as a playwright, how crucial it is and how, when it’s done well, it’s really inseparable from character. It’s like a living thing to me. I also wrote for children’s television for seventeen years. I learned a lot writing for preschool. If a three-year-old doesn’t like something, they just get up and walk away from the set. I saw my own kids do that. How do you hold their attention? It’s hard and the internet has made it harder. So for the eight novels, I developed a three-act structure, with each act being composed of nine chapters, using elements from both play and screenplay structures — double layering it, so to speak.

DL: Where do you write? Are you a longhand writer or a laptop writer? Do you listen to music as you write, or go for the monastic, writerly silence?

SC: I write best at home in a recliner. I used to write longhand, but now it’s all laptop. Definitely not music; it demands to be listened to. I like quiet, but not silence.

DL: You talked earlier about researching survival training and edible plants for these books. What other research did you have to do? Are you a reading researcher, a hands-on researcher, or a mix of both? (I’m imagining an elaborate archery complex in your backyard, but I am guessing that’s not necessarily accurate.)

SC: You know, I’m just not very handy. I read a lot about how to build a bow from scratch, but I doubt I could ever make one. Being good with your hands is a gift. So I do a lot of book research. Sometimes I visit museums or historic sites for inspiration. I was trained in stage combat, particularly sword fighting in drama school; I have a nice collection of swords designed for that, but that was more helpful for The Underland Chronicles. The only time I got to do archery was in gym class in high school.

DL: While I wish I could say the editorial team (Kate Egan, Jennifer Rees, and myself ) were the first-ever readers of The Hunger Games, I know this isn’t true. When you’re writing a book, who reads it first?

SC: My husband, Cap, and my literary agent, Rosemary Stimola, have consistently been the books’ first readers. They both have excellent critique skills and give insightful notes. I like to keep the editorial team as much in the dark as possible, so that when they read the first draft it’s with completely fresh eyes.

DL: Looking back now at the editorial conversations we had about The Hunger Games — which were primarily with Kate, as Jen and I rode shotgun — can you recall any significant shifts or discussions?

SC: What I mostly recall is how relieved I was to know that I had such amazing people to work with on the book before it entered the world. I had eight novels come out in eight years with Scholastic, so that was fast for me and I needed feedback I could trust. You’re all so smart, intuitive, and communicative, and with the three of you, no stone went unturned. With The Hunger Games Trilogy, I really depended on your brains and hearts to catch what worked and what didn’t.

DL: And then there was the question of the title . . .

SC: Okay, this I remember clearly. The original title of the first book was The Tribute of District Twelve. You wanted to change it to The Hunger Games, which was my name for the series. I said, “Okay, but I’m not thinking of another name for the series!” To this day, more people ask me about “the Gregor series” than “The Underland Chronicles,” and I didn’t want a repeat of that because it’s confusing. But you were right, The Hunger Games was a much better name for the book. Catching Fire was originally called The Ripple Effect and I wanted to change that one, because it was too watery for a Girl on Fire, so we came up with Catching Fire. The third book I’d come up with a title so bad I can’t even remember it except it had the word ashes in it. We both hated it. One day, you said, “What if we just call it Mockingjay?” And that seemed perfect. The three parts of the book had been subtitled “The Mockingjay,” “The Assault,” and “The Assassin.” We changed the title to Mockingjay and the first part to “The Ashes” and got that lovely alliteration in the subtitles. Thank goodness you were there; you have far better taste in titles. I believe in the acknowledgments, I call you the Title Master.

DL: With The Hunger Games, the choice of Games is natural — but the choice of Hunger is much more odd and interesting. So I’ll ask: Why Hunger Games?

SC: Because food is a lethal weapon. Withholding food, that is. Just like it is in Boris when the Nazis starve out the people of Leningrad. It’s a weapon that targets everyone in a war, not just the soldiers in combat, but the civilians too. In the prologue of Henry V, the Chorus talks about Harry as Mars, the god of war. “And at his heels, Leash’d in like hounds, should famine, sword, and fire crouch for employment.” Famine, sword, and fire are his dogs of war, and famine leads the pack. With a rising global population and environmental issues, I think food could be a significant weapon in the future.

DL: The cover was another huge effort. We easily had over a hundred different covers comped up before we landed on the iconic one. There were some covers that pictured Katniss — something I can’t imagine doing now. And there were others that tried to picture scenes. Of course, the answer was in front of us the entire time — the Mockingjay symbol, which the art director Elizabeth Parisi deployed to such amazing effect. What do you think of the impact the cover and the symbol have had? What were your thoughts when you saw this cover?

SC: Oh, it’s a brilliant cover, which I should point out I had nothing to do with. I only saw a handful of the many you developed. The one that made it to print is absolutely fantastic; I loved it at first sight. It’s classy, powerful, and utterly unique to the story. It doesn’t limit the age of the audience and I think that really contributed to adults feeling comfortable reading it. And then, of course, you followed it up with the wonderful evolution of the mockingjay throughout the series. There’s something universal about the imagery, the captive bird gaining freedom, which I think is why so many of the foreign publishers chose to use it instead of designing their own. And it translated beautifully to the screen where it still holds as the central symbolic image for the franchise.

DL: Obviously, the four movies had an enormous impact on how widely the story spread across the globe. The whole movie process started with the producers coming on board. What made you know they were the right people to shepherd this story into another form?

SC: When I decided to sell the entertainment rights to the book, I had phone interviews with over a dozen producers. Nina Jacobson’s understanding of and passion for the piece along with her commitment to protecting it won me over. She’s so articulate, I knew she’d be an excellent person to usher it into the world. The team at Lionsgate’s enthusiasm and insight made a deep impression as well. I needed partners with the courage not to shy away from the difficult elements of the piece, ones who wouldn’t try to steer the story to an easier, more traditional ending. Prim can’t live. The victory can’t be joyous. The wounds have to leave lasting scars. It’s not an easy ending but it’s an intentional one.

DL: You cowrote the screenplay for the first Hunger Games movie. I know it’s an enormously tricky thing for an author to adapt their own work. How did you approach it? What was the hardest thing about translating a novel into a screenplay? What was the most rewarding?

SC: I wrote the initial treatments and first draft and then Billy Ray came on for several drafts and then our director, Gary Ross, developed it into his shooting script and we ultimately did a couple of passes together. I did the boil down of the book, which is a lot of cutting things while trying to retain the dramatic structure. I think the hardest thing for me, because I’m not a terribly visual person, was finding the way to translate many words into few images. Billy and Gary, both far more experienced screenwriters and gifted directors as well, really excelled at that. Throughout the franchise I had terrific screenwriters, and Francis Lawrence, who directed the last three films, is an incredible visual storyteller.

The most rewarding moment on the Hunger Games movie would have been the first time I saw it put together, still in rough form, and thinking it worked.

DL: One of the strange things for me about having a novel adapted is knowing that the actors involved will become, in many people’s minds, the faces and bodies of the characters who have heretofore lived as bodiless voices in my head. Which I suppose leads to a three-part question: Do you picture your characters as you’re writing them? If so, how close did Jennifer Lawrence come to the Katniss in your head? And now when you think about Katniss, do you see Jennifer or do you still see what you imagined before?

SC: I definitely do picture the characters when I’m writing them. The actress who looks exactly like my book Katniss doesn’t exist. Jennifer looked close enough and felt very right, which is more important. She gives an amazing performance. When I think of the books, I still think of my initial image of Katniss. When I think of the movies, I think of Jen. Those images aren’t at war any more than the books are with the films. Because they’re faithful adaptations, the story becomes the primary thing. Some people will never read a book, but they might see the same story in a movie. When it works well, the two entities support and enrich each other.

DL: All of the actors did such a fantastic job with your characters (truly). Are there any in particular that have stayed with you?

SC: A writer friend of mine once said, “Your cast — they’re like a basket of diamonds.” That’s how I think of them. I feel fortunate to have had such a talented team — directors, producers, screenwriters, performers, designers, editors, marketing, publicity, everybody — to make the journey with. And I’m so grateful for the readers and viewers who invested in The Hunger Games. Stories are made to be shared.

DL: We’re talking on the occasion of the tenth anniversary of The Hunger Games. Looking back at the past ten years, what have some of the highlights been?

SC: The response from the readers, especially the young audience for which it was written. Seeing beautiful and faithful adaptations reach the screen. Occasionally hearing it make its way into public discourse on politics or social issues.

DL: The Hunger Games Trilogy has been an international bestseller. Why do you think this series struck such an important chord throughout the world?

SC: Possibly because the themes are universal. War is a magnet for difficult issues. In The Hunger Games, you have vast inequality of wealth, destruction of the planet, political struggles, war as a media event, human rights abuses, propaganda, and a whole lot of other elements that affect human beings wherever they live. I think the story might tap into the anxiety a lot of people feel about the future right now.

DL: As we celebrate the past ten years and look forward to many decades to come for this trilogy, I’d love for us to end where we should — with the millions of readers who’ve embraced these books. What words would you like to leave them with?

SC: Thank you for joining Katniss on her journey. And may the odds be ever in your favor.

[asha-mage]

WoT Meta: Prophecies, Fated Lovers, and Robert Jordan's knack for finding the nuance underneath the myth

One complaint I've never understood about the way Jordan writes romances is the persistent claim that he over uses the 'prophesied love' trope.

In part for me, I think it's a little bit folks not seeing the forest for the trees. WoT is fundamentally about the relationship between myth and reality: the place where the fallen angel meets the disgruntled academic, the bitter accountant, and the man who never got over being too short. It's a story where the messiah is real and dealing with chronic pain and PTSD from his stigmata. Where a legendary High Queen has to deal with both marching armies to the apocalypse, and the irritating banal realities of being pregnant at the same time. Of course Jordan digs into the idea of prophesied love- it's a huge theme in folklore and mythologies the world over. Jordan wants to dig into what it really means for there to be a person out there that you are destined to be with: that is a match for you, decreed so by the universe itself....and that you get absolutely no agency and choice in choosing. If anything Tumblr, which adores the 'red string of fate'/'soulmark'/'soulmates share pain'/'world is black until you look into your soulmates eyes' (to name a few of the more prevalent ones- some of which Tumblr practically invented), should be super on board for the parade of fated lovers to be found in WoT. It's nothing short of baffling to me that their not more fondly viewed.

And I think that is tied to the follow up complaint: the criticism that Jordan 'uses prophecy love as a replacement for a romance arc'. But that is something that is just. Patently untrue.

Cause the thing is that is how soulmates are often used...in the majority of soulmate au fanfics you find here and on AO3- an excuse to get the really hard part (two characters realizing they are right for each other and love each other, then having the communication skills to articulate that so they can start a relationship) out of the way, so the author can focus on the fluff or angst or other part they and the audience want to get to. And that's fine! But that's not at all what Jordan does. Just like he does with the Prophecies of the Dragon, or Elaida's fortellings, or even just most of Min's viewings- Jordan takes the idea of the prophecy soulmate, this person decreed by some higher power to be Perfect For You and being right about it, and digs deeper, shining it in different lights and attacking it from different angles. Jordan gives the concept of the soulmate teeth, explores the spines and the sharp points of it: is it real love if it's fated and not your choice? Can you trust your own feelings, or are they fate's design working against you as surely as Aphrodite worked against Helen or Eros against Apollo? What is it like, to see someone one day, and know, beyond a shadow of a doubt that you would love this stranger? This question mark? This wildcard?

Rand's relationships with Min and Aviendha, as well as Mat and Tuon's courtship are great examples of this conundrum. Min and Aviendha have completely opposite reactions to the same information that demonstrates their unique strengths and weaknesses as characters and people, while Tuon and Mat's courtship is all about two people who know they will marry trying to figure out what that means, without ever confronting the reality of those prophecies directly.

Min, as befits a Seer who has learned time and time again that her viewings can not be changed, has resigned herself in an almost fatalistic fashion to all of them, and to loving Rand no less. Min knows that she, and two others, will love him, and she accepts its inevitability the same way she accepts Colavere's death, or Logain's glory, or the shattering of the White Tower. What is, is, and there is no sense or point in struggling against it. What concerns her a great deal more is what she doesn't know- she doesn't know if Rand will love her in return, she doesn't know the identity of the other two women who will love him, and she doesn't know if he will fall in love with one or both of the others but not her. Add to that Min's own insecurities about how she stands out and doesn't fit what her society deems 'proper', between her crossdressing, and her offputting manners, and it makes perfect sense that she's worried about making Rand love her. She doesn't mind sharing him- she hates the idea of being in love with a man who doesn't love her in return, of being stuck like 'Elmindreda' of the stories, sighing and pining endlessly for a man instead of being able to act, to take control of her own fate. 

So she takes control: she learns to flirt from Leane, works hard at making herself desirable, and also indispensable: with her visions, her advice, even just her emotional support to Rand when he otherwise has no one else. The irony is that whenever Rand thinks of Min prior to her return to his side in LoC, it's about how much he liked her earthy honesty and lack of wiles: how she was earnest and made him feel at ease, and didn't 'spin his head like a top'- and that's still what he loves about her after they get together: the fact that she isn't fooled by his front, that she sees him clearly and refuses to be driven away the way so many others are so easily. The point is that Min never had to change, and in the ways that matter she didn't- she only thought she did because of her own fatalism.

Contrast that with Aviendha, who, after learning about being destined to fall in love with Rand, does everything in her power to prevent that outcome- because she is a warrior, a soldier, who has never yet met a problem that could not be killed, endured, or retreated from. Aviendha values nothing so much as her honor and her word- she has promised to keep Rand safe for Elayne and what greater act of dishonor could there be in that situation then not just failing in that promise, but despoiling (and she does view it that way) said man herself? So she is awful to him in the hopes of poisoning the well of affection or at least keeping him far enough away that she is never tempted. Aviendha hurls contempt and anger at him, berates him, does everything short of trying to stab him in an effort to make him hate her, and it doesn't work. Despite all her efforts to keep her thorny wall up, they are literally made for each other and can not help but be drawn together time and again. Despite all her efforts to insist, to him and herself, that she hates him, she can not hide entirely that the opposite is true: that she likes him, sees his strength and courage and resilience, and is a little in awe of his generous kindness. 

This is why she vacillates wildly between wanting desperately to get away from him in The Fires of Heaven, to not wanting to leave his side: they are two planets caught in each other's gravity, with about as much chance of escaping each other. When she resorts to the last recourse of a soldier- retreat- and runs headlong into a blizzard that would surely kill her, Rand follows to try and save her life and she can deny the truth that she loves him no longer, nor can she resist taking him, even knowing that to redress that balance, she will one day have to offer her life to Elayne (as she attempts to do in LoC)- though fate still has other plans in store.

But in many ways the apex of this, the relationship that really shows Jordan's deconstruction of this trope, is Mat and Tuon. Before they ever lay eyes on each other, each is given a prophecy that they will marry the other: not that they'll love each other, not that they will be able to trust each other, not even that that will like each other: just that they will marry. And their strange courtship is a result of this knowledge, as each attempts to suss out the other, to try and understand them without ever overplaying their own hand. Each believes that the moment they admit their prophecy they will destroy any chance of real connection or understanding.

To Tuon, if Mat learns he is destined to wed her he gains something she can not abide: power over her, leverage that could be used to subvert her own plans and visions- because nothing matters more to Tuon than control, especially over herself. So she keeps her 'fortune' secret and tries to figure out: What will it mean to be married to Mat? Will he be a pretty trophy? A liability? A threat to her Empire? Will she have to kill him once she gets her heirs?

To Mat, if Tuon learns of his prophecy, she gains the power to take away his freedom, to snare and collar him and bind him to her, because that's how Mat deep down views marriage: as a binding cord, a loss of freedom, and nothing matters to Mat more than freedom. So he keeps his *Finn gained knowledge secret and tries to figure out: What will it mean to be collared by Tuon? Will she she treat him as a pretty and plaything the way Tylin did? Will she try to use him against Rand and the Westlands? Will she make him a slave and sent him to be beaten anytime he disobeys her? Will he have no choice but to fight her one day, this woman he is going to swear to spend his life with? Will he have to kill her the way he did Melindhra, and carry that guilt of mariticide on top of all else?

So the two stay in their strange limbo, because as long as they don't admit it out loud to the other, they can pretend they are still two people forced together by happenstance, and (each thinks) they can continue to try and understand and figure out the other, to find out where this inevitability of their marriage will really leave them, and if there can be even the faintest possibility of love in such circumstances. And that limbo- that protracted refusal to act as if they are under fate's direction- is what allows them to build a genuine bond of trust and respect for each other, and to start seeing the other person with the clarity that love requires. All this, so that when Tuon finally does play her hand, and reveal the truth....it's obvious they've long since fallen in love with each other (even though Tuon won't admit that to herself), and come to trust each other (even though Mat won't admit that to himself).

And the thing is- all of Jordan’s prophecy romances are written like this: from Egwene seeing that loving Gawyn might be both their downfalls in LoC and seeking him out anyways, to Perrin misinterpreting the 'falcon and hawk' viewing and thinking Faile is a danger to him when she's the love of his life, to Galad and Berelain not even being AWARE they’re fated to fall in love and just....do, at wild first sight (Another classic folklore/mythology trope). They also never find out:  always remaining unaware that the Pattern had long since decreed that they would be together and being incredibly funny/annoying about it. The prophesied love is an example of classic Jordan: taking a common, maybe even ubiquitous premise, and asking those complicating questions that allow him to write it as something much more nuanced and interesting and fascinating. And he gets no credit for it, send tumble.