#i hope that there are many more in the future and that i get to go to one again

[1d1195]

Most - Extra I

Read Most here | ~2k words

From me: It's probably too early for an extra for them, but I seriously couldn't resist. Takes place sometime within the first couple of months of the last part.

Warnings: this is going to be disgustingly sweet. Nothing to report except you'll have a toothache after reading.

Summary: Harry gets to rush home from work now to the love of his life. Everything about her makes his heart ache.

Harry was exhausted. Now that she was home, he didn’t have a reason to avoid going home to be by himself. There was no need to feel suffocated by loneliness because he wasn’t alone anymore. So, he changed his work schedule quite a bit. He wasn’t single anymore (even if he never felt that way anyway). But he didn’t do overtime much anymore. He didn’t pick up shifts that others didn’t want or were unable to work due to their own families. The station was never left stranded regardless, but he wasn’t the go-to ask anymore. He felt a little bad and still occasionally took a short overtime shift, but not nearly as many as the insane hours he was prior to her coming home. He didn’t take his time leaving either the way he used to. There was no need anymore. Fortunately, all his coworkers were completely understanding.

48 hours on and 96 hours off. A normal shift for a firefighter. It was so much better than the 18-hour days he was doing before she returned. He could see her for days at a time. He pampered her, snuggled her, and kissed every inch of her skin like she might disappear again even though he really didn’t believe that anymore the way he did when she first came home.

But the end of this two-day shift left him exhausted. It was exceptionally busy. Thankfully, no one was hurt. Only one small house fire contained to the kitchen and the toaster that caught the curtain in the window at fault. There was lots of paperwork that needed filing and reporting for a hundred different things. There was more training. Another visit to the elementary school and a safety outreach program in partnership with other community groups.

Harry grabbed his bag from the back seat, locked his door, and headed inside. Each step felt heavier than the next. He couldn’t wait to get into bed beside her and snuggle her. With the way her work schedule was, she had arrived home after him the last few times. But today, her car was parked next to his. It made his heart flutter. Happy that he had everything he ever wanted. The love of his life, a cute house, and everything. But Harry could have done without the house, the car, the career he loved.

She was there.

That was everything.

It was late. Almost eleven. The outside air was chilly. The moon glowed so bright it almost felt like a stage light on his arrival home. There was the smell of a campfire somewhere a few streets over. All concluding to a perfect fall night. He almost wanted to wake her just so she could come outside and smell it because it reminded him of a bonfire they went to when they first started dating. They made out under a tree and giggled about all their future while their friends drank around the fire.

Quietly, he unlocked the door. He was hoping she wouldn’t wake from his arrival. Her classes alongside work had been kicking her butt. Maybe worse than a 48-hour shift not that she would ever let him think that. No, she doted on him and made sure he was doing okay regardless of how tired she was. It made his heart ache with how much she adored him, but Harry was lucky to have five days off between his shifts. She was lucky if she had one.

Kicking his shoes off right inside the door he was overwhelmed with how good it smelled. A combo of whatever she cooked for dinner and the now permanent scent of her hair care wafting through the house from bathroom all the way to the living room. If this had been even a year ago, Harry never would have thought it was possible to have it all. But the smell of her shampoo was enough to make his eyes watery. Especially after a long couple of days.

He dropped his bag by his shoes, locked the front door, and turned to make his way to the kitchen to put his Tupperware in the dishwasher. He wished he looked sooner because the sight made his heart skim a beat. A strangled, quiet groan came from his throat, as he tried to stop it so he would wake her. Wouldn’t start sobbing with how much he adored her.

Harry rushed to the living room sofa, dropped to his knees beside it. One hand fell to her hip and danced up the curve of her waist, resting on her ribcage as her breath moved her body up and down at gentle intervals. “Kitten,” he murmured.

She didn’t stir. Harry placed a hand over her ear along the side of her head. Softly he rubbed his fingertips into her head. “Baby,” he tried again. Seeing her so peacefully on his couch made him possessive and happy. He wanted nothing more than to watch her like she was his favorite show. All she had to do was sleep; it was enough entertainment for him. They dreamed of things like this and now it was here, and he felt so much love it made him want to cry.

She grunted softly. “Hi baby,” she hummed reaching out and grabbed at his T-shirt. She pulled at the chest, right below the collar of it and tugged him toward her more. Then, she slid her hand over his face. “You okay?”

“M’fine. Why aren’t y’in bed, kitten?"

"S'cold,” she mumbled, yawned.

“So, turn the heat up, baby,” a smile was in his voice as he shook his head at her.

She shook her head back in response. Slowly, she sat up. Her arms came and wrapped around his shoulders and tucked her face into his neck. “Not that kinda cold,” she mumbled.

Fuck, he loved her so much. She was so cute it made him want to scream. She was purposefully on the sofa. Waiting for him.

He swallowed the emotion that was blocking his throat, and he exhaled slowly to calm himself before he had to explain to her why he was crying like a baby because of her and how much he loved her.

He was royally fucked when she walked down the aisle. He would blubber. There wouldn’t be enough tissues in the world to dry his eyes.

“Baby, y'can't sleep on the couch every time m'at work."

"Watch me."

God. His arms tightened around her waist, and he kissed the side of her head as he rocked her gently. He couldn't be close enough to her. "S'bad for your neck t’be on the couch, kitten.”

"It's bad for my heart to be without you in bed."

Harry was going to sob because of her. He squeezed her again. He wasn’t arguing. He just wanted her to be comfy and cozy. Gently, he gripped just behind her knees and pulled her legs around his hips and swiftly stood all in the same movement. He kissed her temple. “Are you hungry?” She asked sleepily. “I’ll make you a plate,” but she nuzzled into his neck, and he almost wanted to say yes, just so he could see how she would manage while half asleep. He thought it was adorable. She was adorable.

“No, kitten. M’fine.”

She frowned. “Did you eat?”

“I ate baby. Don’t worry,” he promised.

“You don’t have to carry me. I’m heavy and you worked so long—”

“Shh,” he hushed. He supported one arm beneath her bum, cradling her to him. He carried her to the bedroom and placed her softly on the mattress before he moved away. She pouted rubbing at her eye with the palm of her hand.

“Where are you going?”

He really didn’t think his heart could take how cute she was. It felt like it was bursting, threatening to break out of his ribcage and find its way into hers so it could be next to her heart. “M’jus’ changing, baby, showered before I left,” he explained. “Gonna be all snuggled close.”

She sighed with relief. Crawled beneath the covers and waited patiently while Harry stripped down to his boxers and went to the bathroom to quickly swish his toothbrush around his mouth.

Harry wasted no time getting into bed. He lifted the sheet, blanket, and comforter that she had decorated the bed in a pattern Harry never would have had if she didn’t live with him. It was plenty warm. Rendering her defense all the sweeter.

He opened his arms for her to nuzzle against him where she also wasted no time falling into his embrace.

Maybe one day she would sleep in bed without him suffocating her with his cuddling.

But it wasn’t going to be any time soon.

“I love you,” she murmured to him.

“I love you,” he kissed down the length of her neck.

“Missed you so much.”

Sometimes he didn’t know if he meant her shift or the three years that he didn’t see her.

“I missed you, baby,” honestly it didn’t matter what she meant because the moments she wasn’t within his sight he missed her like crazy. Too much time apart made him a little insane. A little hungry for time that he couldn’t get back. But he would try anyway and enjoy every second of it. “Don’t sleep on the sofa waiting for me,” he hummed. He worried about her always. “It’ll hurt your neck.”

“Don’t you care about how my heart will hurt, Harry?” Her voice was soft, joking.

“More than anything, kitten,” he promised, seriously. “M’always going t’come home t’you though. Did y’sleep on the sofa last night?” He wondered, realizing that there was always going to be a day he didn’t know where she slept. She nodded against him. No speaking. Perhaps she was too tired. Too tired to pretend as well. There was a tight pressure around his heart and a half-smile, half-frown pulled on his lips. “Baby,” he tutted. “I don’t want you t’do that.”

“S’too late. Spent too many nights without you,” she mumbled.

So, Harry understood. He would have to think of something to help her. But for now, he understood. “M’in love with you,” he reminded her.

“Me too, baby,” she squeezed him making him feel whole.

He cupped the back of her head, kissed the center of her forehead letting his lips press there for so long he hoped it would suction his mouth to her skin just so he never had to let her go ever again. “Can we have French toast in the morning?” She whispered.

He nodded easily, his eyelids felt heavier as they closed, and his chin bumped the top of her head. “Whatever y’want, kitten.”

“Whatever I want?” She murmured.

He nodded again. “Always.”

“Harry?” She whispered. It seemed she got a bit of a second wind from the time he got her off the sofa and brought her to bed. Unfortunately, Harry wasn’t feeling any bit of it. As much as he wanted to stay awake and talk to her for hours on end, he hadn’t slept much the last two days and he felt sleepiness winning over the desire to speak.

“Hmm?” He hummed, almost falling fast asleep before he could hear her again.

“I hate sleeping without you. I never want to do it ever again unless you’re working or you’re on a trip with your family or because Niall wants to sleep with you,” she took a deep breath while Harry smiled and shook his head at her. “So, when we get married, I don’t want to do a single night apart, not even the day before.”

Harry reached for her left hand that rested on his shoulder and he softly rubbed her ring finger. He nodded. Kissed the crown of her head and sighed. “Okay, angel,” he murmured. “No night’s apart that aren’t necessary.”

“I’ll stop talking. You can go to sleep.”

“Don’t get out of bed in the morning,” he murmured and squeezed her tighter. “I hate when y’do that,” he grumbled.

She giggled. “I’ll wake you.”

“Good,” he sighed. “I love you. More than anything.”

“I love you,” she answered. “More than anything.”

--

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most: @harryspirate

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If you like this, check out my masterlist here

[local-hellhound-steals-spaghetti]

thank you for posting about moo deng's treatment compared to fiona's. My friends love moo deng and i have only seen a couple pictures of her, so i thought they were funny in the same way a smear frame was funny: an awkward snapshot in the middle of moo deng playing or yawning. I never looked into it further than fanart or memes because well i didn't think to. your post made me realize there is always more to learn, as an aspiring naturalist, thank you.

Thank you for telling me this, it helps me feel better about posting it. She's a really cute little baby, I certainly don't doubt that! But I just hope they will just be more hands off with her in the future and leave her alone.

If they want to train voluntary husbandry behaviours and do proper desensisation that would be great. I'm so tired of seeing people say that they have to harass her because it helps her get ready for veterinary procedures...

If anything they're making vet procedures even more negative and stressful because so many interactions with humans have been her being disturbed while she's sleeping or eating, chased by them, smacked by them or just poked and prodded until she bites them.

I just hope people will use (1) crumb of common sense when they see that attempt at an explanation and learn what actual conditioning to handling looks like.

[otterspaceastrology]

Pick a Card Reading + Phone Wallpaper

What is your Future Spouse’s Aura Like?

Disclaimers

Readings are for entertainment purposes, so please take with a grain of salt and enjoy!

When I talk about masculine and feminine, I am talking about energy so that can apply to any gender or identity.

When picking a pile, use your intuition, close your eyes, relax and think of the question and then open your eyes and let it be drawn naturally to a pile, repeat as many times as you need to know it’s your pile. Of course you can do it any way you want that’s just my preferred method!

Now on to the Readings!

Pile 1

INDIGO/GREEN

The Hierophant, The Fool, 7 of Wands

Mercury, Gemini, 11th House

Planner, Idealist, Reliable

For Pile Ones Future Spouses Aura I get someone who really values friendship and communication but also needs a great deal of solitude to feel at peace, their social battery might deplete pretty quickly so they may love staying home and spend good one on one quality time with you more then anything else!

Pile 2

RED/YELLOW

King of Pentacles, Page of Swords, The Star

North node, Scorpio, 3rd House

Popular, Practical, Innovative

Pile Two your Future Spouse is very assertive and powerful! They have lots of fiery passion and are very focused on success, their goals are really important to them and they will stop at nothing to achieve them which could also translate to them being quite determined during your courting phase!

Pile 3

YELLOW/PINK

10 of Pentacles, 4 of Wands, 3 of Pentacles, The High Priestess

Aquarius, Sun , 6th House

Experimental, Stoic, Kind

Pile Three your Future Spouse is so unbelievably sweet and selfless! They are the type to have constant optimism and a desire to help others, I see a lot of volunteer work! They are hardworking with the biggest most genuine smile! Because they are such a selfless person, I see that they gain so much abundance just like going through life with this mindset, and you will also reap the benefits!

Thank you so much for reading my pick a card I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did making it!🥰✨

All Wallpapers made by me, quotes found on Pinterest

[certifiedsexed]

Hi! Kinda embarrassed to be asking this, but I also kinda need the answer in the near future and google's being royally unhelpful.

How much should a gynecological exam hurt?

I'm ace and never had sex or really masturbated as a result, so idk how much of the pain is not used to penetration and how much is possible vaginismus. I've had a few pap smears and two vaginal ultrasounds over the years, and every time, it's felt like someone is tearing me in half. I will have a death grip on the bed trying to keep silent and not cry out in pain... which might not be normal despite every obgyn I've ever seen behaving like it is??? Like, I've even asked multiple obgyns (I rarely see the same one twice at this point, which is frustrating but beside the point) if it's out of the ordinary, and it's always been dismissed as if it'll get better, but it never has. A friend of mine recently implied this isn't normal, so now I'm wondering if I've just always been stuck with shitty gynecologists.

Hi! No worries, google is universally unhelpful, I get it.

So here's the thing: you shouldn't be experiencing that amount of pain even if you're unused to penetration. Tests like the pap smear can cause discomfort and small amounts of pain [specifically when they collect the sample], but the penetration itself isn't supposed to be causing pain, specifically not at that level.

Also, vaginal ultrasounds are supposed to be very mild.[Sometimes they hurt a little but they're mostly just supposed to be a little uncomfortable.]

There's always the possibility you have trash doctors/nurses [which is unfortunately a common issue] and they're not doing it properly. Sometimes there's pain during procedures like that if someone is especially tense too but it shouldn't be that extreme and if you're having that regularly, something is definitely wrong.

[Which is something you can check if you want, being gentle, using some lube and seeing if general penetration hurts!]

An issue here is that procedures like this are often under-researched and people frequently don't listen about things like vaginal pain. Which is shitty as fuck and inappropriate but it's common.

Vaginismus is definitely a very possible cause. Your best bet might actually be going to an OBG/YN who specifically works with people who experience vaginismus and/or general vulvodynia/dyspareunia and talking to them about what you're experiencing.

Because it sounds like you're probably not experiencing doctors constantly doing the procedures wrong [since you're going to so many different ones], but doctors that are still shitty because they don't care about the pain you're experiencing so maybe talking to a doctor who specializes in what you're experiencing would be more helpful.

(Also, like I said, maybe trying to see yourself if general penetration hurts might give you some clarity on the issue.)

I hope this helps! Lemme know, especially if you want more specific info on all of this. <3

[yuseirra]

Ch 161~

Can't draw so much during the week..!

More commentary about 161..

I'm actually convinced Fatal and Mephisto should be Kamiki's song?? I think some things hint of it.

and that he DOES really care about Aqua.

and that he does have to do with Sarutahiko, Amenouzume's husband(although this part is a speculation)

More stuff in the read more:

(first written in another language and chatGPT helped me translate it... I can't write things like this twice ;v; it's a great world here. so convenient~)

Honestly, it's frustrating and a bit agonizing; what is this even about? The plot is stressful, but...

Still, being able to focus like this... I guess it’s a good thing to find a work that hooks you and makes you think deeply in some way.

LOL, it also means I’m living a life where I have enough time to care about a manga, even though I’m currently in a pretty tough spot.

This manga, whether it's in a good or bad direction, seems to be driving me crazy in its own way.

If I’m disappointed, I can always go read something else, (I even got permission from someone to draw a Persona fanfic fanart, but I’ve been too hooked on this manga to do it.. that fanfic was so good.. I need to do it sooner or later..).

But I was so confident about my analyses. Like, really... I’m usually good at picking up on these kinds of things? This manga is great at psychological portrayal, and it was amusing to analyze that, There are just too many things sticking out for me, and things feel uneasy.

It’s not about the pairing... It just keeps bothering me... Am I really missing the mark on this? I’m usually good at sensing these things...

Without the movie arc, this development would be fine, but that arc is sandwiched in there, and I interpreted the character based on that too...

Honestly, every time I listen to the songs, I get this strong feeling like, "This isn’t Aqua." The kind of emotions in these songs, it's not him that's singing them. It's the dad. I immediately posted about it when I first heard it in July. As soon as I heard it, I thought, "This is it," and got a gut feeling.

I really want to feel that emotion again.

Even if Kamiki does turn out to be a serial killer, I still think these songs could describe his inner state.

I think we’ll get some explanation in the next five chapters or so, even if it takes a bit longer.

Also, the expression Kamiki makes when Aqua stabs him is so genuine. Until that moment, he had been smiling, but...

If that expression was because he suddenly felt threatened with his life, it’s a bit pathetic. But... I don’t think that’s the case. What I really pay attention to are the emotional flow and expressions.

When Aqua says he wants to watch Ruby perform, the smile on Kamiki’s face... it’s soft. That’s... definitely a look of affection. It’s not like, “Oh, I've won him over!” or, “Yes, I’ve convinced him!” I interpreted it as Kamiki having paternal love, and there was a scene that backed up that idea earlier. I’m sure he really likes Aqua.

That’s not a bad expression. It’s more like, "Yeah, you wish to see Ruby, don't you. Go ahead, watch her. Keep living" (Which makes me wonder, is he really planning to harm Ruby? If he harms her, maybe he plans to do it after the Dome performance? But even that doesn’t make sense. Does that mean Aqua would have to come back to stab him AGAIN after that takes place?? Does it really add up to his logic for telling him to go watch her?)

Aqua says Kamiki will destroy Ruby’s future, but...

How exactly is he going to do that? Hasn't this guy literally done nothing? If they're talking about the Dome performance, at least that should go off without a hitch, right? So at least until then, Ruby would be safe?? So, Kamiki isn't planning to harm Ruby now at least, right? Even with that weird.. logic that he proposes (I hope he's lying about that tbh)

Then when Aqua smiles and says something like, "Haha, but I’ll just kill you and die with you," while pointing the knife at him again...

Kamiki’s expression at that moment really stands out, and it’s not like a twisted look of being frustrated about things not going his way. It’s not anger or annoyance he's feeling. It’s the same shocked and despairing expression we saw in chapters 146 and 153.

Aqua seems to have no clue what kind of person his father really is, huh? He can’t read him at all.

Honestly, from the way Kamiki speaks, I get the impression that he’s actually quite kind. He’s not saying anything too wrong.

Remember the scene where Ruby gets angry because people were talking carelessly about Ai’s death? Kamiki probably knows about that too. I think Aqua and Ai, and Ruby and Kamiki, are quite alike in nature. Kamiki might’ve felt a lot of grief over Ai at that time. I do believe he loved Ai.

The phrase, "People don’t want the truth," is pretty painful, especially if you think about Ai. That’s why Ai lived telling lies. Isn't Kamiki thinking about what's happened to her, then? By bringing that up? He should have felt it, loving/watching a person like her and what unfolded.. Ai died because of the truth that she had kids with him. Ugly fans like Ryosuke and Nino couldn't take her being less than perfect. Wouldn't this have hurt Kamiki too? The fact that they loved each other(At least Ai did genuinely, we know that) was unwanted. People could not accept that, and that's one of the reasons why they had to break up.

From the way Kamiki talks, it feels like he genuinely doesn’t want his son or daughter to go through that kind of pain.

I think Kamiki has a pretty good nature. When you look at how he speaks, it’s gentle, and he seems to genuinely care about Aqua and knows a lot about him. Maybe he’s been watching over him from afar for a long time? He probably even knows who his son has feelings for.

It really feels like Kamiki is trying to persuade him: "I’m fine with dying. But you, you have so many reasons to live, right? Shouldn’t you return to the people you care about?"

And, the way Kamiki reacts after Aqua stabs him also shows it. He’s visibly agitated afterward. His expression noticeably shifts to panic and darkness.

Wait... stop it, don’t do this! That’s what he says.

The way he’s talking to Aqua in that moment.

It’s not like, “How dare you?” but more like, “Aqua, please don’t do this.”

It really seems like he doesn’t want Aqua to die.

He’s really shocked by it.

From his expressions, he seems more shocked by Aqua getting stabbed than by his own fall, like he didn’t even know how to react properly. He's being grabbed onto but he isn't looking at the hands that are grabbing him, his line of sight is on Aqua there

The final expression he makes can seem really pathetic, but...

Oh man, I think that’s the truth of that situation.

And it makes sense because Ai dreamed of raising her kids with this guy. I think he could’ve been a really great father who adored his kids... at least until the point they separated. He was just really young back then.

Doesn’t this guy really love his kids? Even without the movie arc, there have been hints of his concern for them.

I’m not trying to interpret him kindly just because I particularly like or find this character attractive.

If he’s a serial killer psychopath, then yeah, he should die here. When I first got spoiled, my reaction was completely merciless. "Well, he should die if he's like that," I said. But...

I don’t think that’s the case. It really seems like he cares about Aqua.

Oh, and Kamiki’s soul being noble in the past is mentioned, right?

So, he was a good person before?

Well, I guess I wasn’t totally off in reading his character? LOL.

Does that mean he could be a fallen god?(could be a stretch, but there IS a lyric in fatal about fallenness!!!)

Sarutahiko is often described as a "noble" and "just" god, so it’s quite possible that Kamiki’s true nature is based on Sarutahiko, the husband of Ame-no-Uzume = Ai.

That couple was very affectionate, and according to the Aratate Shrine description, they even go as far as blessing marital relationships. Those gods really love each other. In that case, Ai being so fond and loving of Hikaru also makes sense. It could explain why she asked her kids to save him...

So, can't “Fatal” be his song? Maybe he’s fallen from grace?

The lyrics in "Fatal" say things like, "What should I use to fill in what’s missing?" Could that be about human lives? But did he really kill people? How can you save someone after that? That’s why I don’t think he went that far.

"Without you, I cannot live anymore"

“I would sacrifice anything for you”

This isn’t Aqua. This is Kamiki.

Would Aqua do that much for Ai? He shouldn’t be so blind.

When I listened to "Fatal," I immediately thought of "Mephisto" because the two songs are so similar in context.

They’re sung by the same narrator, aren’t they? That made it clear what Kamiki’s purpose was, which is why I started drawing so much about him and Ai after that.

He keeps saying he’ll give up his life and that he wants to see Ai again. This isn’t Aqua! These feelings are different from what Aqua has.

At first, I thought because Ruby = Amaterasu, with Tsukuyomi having shown up, and Aqua perhaps having relations to Susanoo (he’s falling into the sea this time, right? LOL) I wondered if Ai and her boyfriend’s story was based on the major myth of Izanagi and Izanami, since they’re so well-known.

That myth is famous for how the husband tries to save his wife after she dies, though he fails in the end.

The storyline is similar to Mephisto’s, so I thought, "Could this be it?"

And then I realized Sarutahiko and Ame-no-Uzume's lores also fit really well. Ai thinking Kamiki was like a jewel when they first met is similar to how Ame-no-Uzume saw Sarutahiko shining when they first met. Sarutahiko guiding Ame-no-Uzume is similar to how Hikaru taught Ai how to act. They even had descendants that have a title that means "maiden who's good at dancing" The two also fell for each other at first sight. The shrine the characters visit in the story is supposedly where those two met and married. If they REALLY are those gods in essence, It feels like something went wrong with the wish because one or both of them became twisted.

Anyway, I think Kamiki was originally noble but fell from grace, and it’s likely that Ai’s death was the catalyst.

But I’m not sure if he really went as far as killing people.

What is Tsukuyomi even talking about? I’ve read it several times, and I still don’t fully understand.

I really hope she's wrong because… killing others to make Ai’s name carry more weight? That doesn’t make any sense. What does “the weight of her name” supposed to mean?? I don't think that's something that should be taken just at face value, I feel like there's more behind this idea.

What kind of logic is that? And on top of that, I can’t understand why Ai’s life would become more valuable if Kamiki dies. It just doesn’t follow.

Why would he even say that?

He must be really confident... Does he think he’s someone greater than Ai?

Even so, how does it connect?

I read two books today, because I started wondering if my reading comprehension has dropped. Thankfully, I’m still able to read books just fine. It’s not like I can’t read, you know? I’ve taken media literacy classes and pride myself on not having terrible reading comprehension.

I tried to make sense of what exactly the heck this may mean, and I think.. if it were to mean something like, “I’ll offer my life as a sacrifice to Ai,” I’d at least get that. That kind of logic, in a way, has some practical meaning.

Kamiki talked about sacrifices? tributes? offerings? in chapter 147. I really remember certain scenes clearly because I’ve gone over them carefully. In that case, if Kamiki dies, then the weight or value of his life would transfer to Ai, and that would “help” her, right?

If the story is going in that direction,

when I look at “Mephisto” and “Fatal,” I can see that by doing this, Kamiki would have a chance to either save Ai or get closer to her. At least that makes some sense.

But is it really right for Ai to ask someone to save Kamiki, who killed others? As soon as the idea of it came up, I knew something was up.

Because of what Ai's wanted, I think it’s possible that Kamiki didn’t actually go that far. In the songs, they talk about gathering light and offering something, but they don’t say anything about killing people… Kamiki said he’d sacrifice his own life. People around him may have died, but…

Kamiki’s true personality doesn’t seem like the type to do that… And looking at his actions when Aqua was stabbed??

He hasn’t shown any direct actions yet, so I still don’t know how far he’d actually go.

It’s not that I don’t believe Tsukuyomi’s words entirely,

but I don’t think the conclusion is going to be something like, “Ai should’ve never met Kamiki.”

Every time we see Kamiki’s actual actions, there’s this strange gentleness to him, and that’s what’s confusing me.

The more I look closely, the weirder it feels, and something about it just bothers me. If Kamiki were truly just a completely crazy villain, I’d think, “Oh, so that’s who he is,” and I wouldn’t deny it.

But each time, I start thinking that maybe Ai didn’t meet someone so strange after all? Ai liked him that much, so on that front, it makes sense to me. I want to believe that’s the right conclusion. I mean, doesn’t what he says sound kind? Isn’t he gentle?

No, but seriously, when Kamiki listened to Aqua’s reasons for wanting to live, I thought his expression was warm. It didn’t seem like some calculated expression like “according to plan” like Light Yagami. It felt more like a fond, affectionate expression. I draw too, you know. I pay a lot of attention to expressions. This character often makes expressions that really stand out.

It’s like he’s genuinely trying to convince Aqua not to do anything reckless. Maybe I’m being soft on Kamiki because he’s Ai’s boyfriend? But actually, it’s not like that?

I mean, I’m the type who’s like, “Anyone who did something bad to Ai should die!!” It’s because he’s a character. If this were a real person, I wouldn’t so casually tell someone to go die or say such strong things.

But… he seems like a good person.

+It’s a small thing, but why did Kamiki drop his phone while talking about Ruby? Ppft If you drop it from that height, it’d probably crack. Was he trying to look cool? (It’s an Apple phone, huh.) Is he a bit clumsy? Well... since it looks like him and Aqua are about to fall into the sea, maybe it was a blessing he did so. The phone might be saved after all. If he manages to climb out of there, he could contact someone with that phone.

[winchesterwild78]

A Twist of Fate

Characters: Dean x Reader, Billy x Reader

Warnings: Nothing too extreme, just some angst, language, and fluff

A/N: Got this idea from a picture I was tagged in by @jackles010378. Sorry it took me so long to write this. Dean and the reader were dating and broke up. Dean sees the reader with her new boyfriend and things unravel. 

This is a work of fiction, all work is my own, do not take it or copy it. 

Minors DNI 18+

The crisp autumn air nipped at my nose as Billy and I strolled down Main Street. The leaves were a kaleidoscope of reds, oranges, and yellows, a beautiful contrast to the gray sky. I couldn't help but think about how much my life had changed since I'd last seen Dean.

Three years. That's how long we'd been together. Three years of laughter, love, and a shared passion for the supernatural. And then, just like that, he was gone. A letter, a simple explanation that he couldn't be with me anymore. The pain had been unbearable, a wound that had slowly healed, leaving a scar that I would always carry.

That morning I woke up and found the letter on his pillow. It was the day my world broke. Tears fell on the letter as I read his simple words. 

Dear Y/N,

These past three years have been great. We’ve shared so much and done even more together. I know you love me. You’ve said it so many times, and showed me every day. I just can’t lie to you anymore. I don’t feel the same. That’s not fair to you, to make you think we have a future together. One where we get married and have kids. I can’t do the apple pie life. I’m sorry, Y/N. I do hope you find the love you deserve.

Goodbye,

D

It didn’t make sense to me. We had just shared a night of love and passion, tangled in each other’s embrace. Whispering words of love and affection. We talked of the future and he said he’d love to be a dad one day. He was the love of my life, then he was gone. 

Now, here I was, two years later with Billy. He was kind, considerate, and everything a good man should be. But a part of me couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing.

We met through a mutual friend and had an instant connection. I wouldn’t call it love, but I was grateful for the companionship. I hadn’t even spoken the words to him. Billy was quick to say “I love you”, but I couldn’t say it because I didn’t mean it, nor did I feel it. 

Billy spent all of his free time with me. At times it felt suffocating. Dean and I spent a lot of time together too, but we also had our time apart. I’d bake and he’d work in the garage, it was a perfect balance.

Walking hand in hand through Main Street my mind kept comparing him to Dean. When Dean and I would walk, his arm was around me in a protective way. Billy just held my hand. Dean would lace his fingers in mine, Billy just cupped my hand. 

When Billy kissed me, it was hard and fast. When Dean kissed me it was soft and full of passion. Every step I took my mind kept comparing Billy to Dean. I couldn’t figure out why Dean was in the forefront of my thoughts.

And then I saw him. Leaning against the Impala, looking as effortlessly cool as ever. Dean. My heart pounded in my chest as our eyes met. A flash of something crossed his face - regret? Jealousy? I couldn't be sure.

As we continued walking, I glanced back. He was still watching, his gaze fixed on me. A wave of emotions washed over me. I stumbled as I looked back. I saw him gasp and jump off the car. Billy grabbed my arm trying to steady me. “You okay?” I nodded. I couldn’t pull my eyes away from Dean. Billy followed my gaze. Clearing his throat I turned and met his eyes. “Who’s that?” He asked, his voice laced with hurt and something else, anger maybe. I looked at Dean then back at Billy, “he’s my ex.” 

Billy wasn’t happy. I could feel the tension between us. As we walked into the quiet cafe he shot me a look that sent a chill through me. The cashier offered a soft smile. “How can I help you two today?” She said with a sweet voice. Billy looked at her and said “We will both have a coffee with 2 creams and 1 sugar.” She nodded as she started to put in the order. I spoke up, “Um, excuse me. I’ll have a vanilla latte please.” Billy shot me a look and grabbed my hand, “No, you’ll have what I ordered you. You’re my girlfriend and you’ll have what I order.” 

The cashier stood shocked. My mouth was on the floor. He’d never acted like this before. I touched his bicep softly, “Billy, I am your girlfriend, but I can order what I want.” Billy huffed and mumbled something. The cashier told Billy the total and she went about making the order. 

When we had our order Billy directed me to a booth at the back of the restaurant. I sat across from him and looked at him, shocked by his behavior. “You want to tell me what the hell that was about, Billy? Since when do you order for me and grab me?” Billy just stared at me, anger flashing in his eyes. It honestly scared me. 

“I didn’t like how you kept staring at pretty boy out there. It’s like you’re in love with him or something.” I bit my lip, not knowing what to say to him. I was in love with him. I never stopped loving him, but how could I tell him that? 

I swallowed hard. Touching Billy’s hand I started to speak, “Billy, I was in love with him when I was with him. He broke my heart and I’m with you now. That’s all that matters.” 

Billy pulled his hand away from me. “So you can love him but not me? You know what, screw this. Why don’t you go back to him and be his little whore again.” I gasped, “Billy! What the hell. Please calm down. I don’t want to be with him, I’m with you.”

Before I could say anything else, Billy stood up and told me to have a nice life and left. I sat at the table in shock. What the hell just happened? How did one little thing set him off like that? 

I sat at the table thinking about the past few years, how my love for Dean slipped away, and how Billy reacted to me seeing Dean. I was lost in thought and didn’t hear the bell above the door. 

The sound of a deep husky voice pulled me from my thoughts, “Hello, sweetheart.” My eyes flicked up and they met the piercing green eyes of my favorite hunter. My breath caught in my throat, “D…Dean, what are you doing here?” “Sammy and I were in town on a hunt, I heard you moved here. I’m so glad I ran into you. Can I sit?” 

“Sure.” I said without hesitation. Dean sat across from me. His hands instinctively grabbed mine. My head is screaming at me to pull away, but the rest of my body is holding on for dear life. 

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I was foolish and a complete jackass for leaving and for leaving you the way I did. I was scared. I had finally found the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, have children with, and I got scared. Scared you would be taken away from me. Scared because I don’t deserve the love you had for me. I’ve never deserved love or to be loved. I’m broken, Y/N. 

As I sat across from him, hearing him say how he didn’t deserve love my heart broke for him. “Dean, you deserve so much.You, Dean Winchester, deserve all the love in the world. You were four years old when you saved your brother from the fire, you raised him. Dean, you had to be mom and dad to Sam. Dean Winchester, the man who willingly went to hell to save his baby brother, the man who was willing to die for so many people. Dean Winchester, the man who took on the Mark of Cain to help save the world. You deserve all the love this world has to offer. You deserve so much more than I can give you. I NEVER stopped loving you, Dean, and I know I never will.”

Dean stood and walked over to me. He reached out his hand and took my hand in his, pulling me up and flush to his body. He tucked a piece of hair behind my ear, and his hand cupped my face, “You are even more beautiful now than you were two years ago. I was a fool to let you go, and I intend to spend the rest of my life making that up to you. That is if you’ll have me again.” 

I leaned into his hand that cupped my face. My heart hammered in my chest. His touch ignited that fire, that love I had buried deep inside me. Without another word I leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his lips. It was soft and Dean hesitated for a moment. Then something changed. His hands went into my hair and pulled me in. The kiss became more passionate and full of need. 

The hurt from the past two years was fading with each kiss. When we finally parted, I looked at Dean and smiled. His eyes are full of love and desire. “Dean, take me home.” I said as I leaned into his embrace.

Dean took my hand and led me out of the coffee shop and to the Impala. He opened the car door and I climbed in. When he got in the driver’s seat, he looked over, smiled and took my hand. “Let’s go home, sweetheart.” He stepped on the gas and we headed back home. Home, where we both belonged, together and in each other’s arms. 

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[phoenixeclipse-lmkau]

so as it seems that you seem to be busy with life, it seems only fair to drop what idea crumbs I have to help tide you over while you deal with life.

imagine this if you will, in one of the many days they spend travelling, reader spirit and the cubs have found a hot spring to relax in after harsh and cold weather, and everyone is taking the time to clean and enjoy the warmth. the cubs are out of sight, assumingly having fun in a further part of the spring, and reader and spirit have bonding time talking about their pasts, helping clean each other’s hair and whatever else girls do in a girls night.

during all of this, the conversation ends up on readers family and how she is worried about their reactions to her being missing. spirit asks about her family, and reader respond; mum, dad, any applicable siblings and pets. and spirit asks if reader is married/mated/whatever term spirit is familiar with. reader says no. fiance? nope. boyfriend? nope. so… any crushes? none on any real people but do fictional count? spirit says sure, tell the stories of your fictional crushes

so

do you remember the ask?

where you said that reader has a crush on sun wukong and macaque?

what are the odds reader has figured out that she is in jjtw and not generic chinese/eastern fantasy?

from her perspective, they would absolutely be fictional with what little info she had. so she spills all the info about them and their adventures and why she had a crush on them, only for spirit to go at the end:

“you know that they're real, right?”

“wat”

“and warlords?”

“???”

and so spirit informs her with what info she has on them, their battles and conquests, and what exactly they tend to think of humans and do to them.

“best to avoid them at all costs, and keep your knowledge between us”

and so, everything said is kept secret between reader, spirit, and the six eared macaque who immediately spills the secrets to sun wukong.

his ears still work, even in the form of a cub, you know?

what would they focus on, her knowledge about their future, or the fact that she has a crush on them?

anyways hope life gets better and you get good sleep soon.

Eek!! Thank omg the feels!!

Spirit would totally try to keep Reader away before she even finds out who the cubs are. (I'm still trying to think of a reason that she hasn't clued in on Macaque. Oh, maybe most people just can't see his ears. They why would reader? Damnit I'm ranting my own questions for my own au!! )

They would totally be concentrated on how she likes them. A few exchanged words on how she knows about them sure and the future. But mostly, their darling likes them!! So why is Spirit telling her to stay away!? No that won't do at all.

They will be righting that... by righting that Wukong will probably give Spirit several scratches. He's a monkey cub. They can't really hurt her and adult monkey demoness.

At least not yet anyway. I gotta say that Spirit is putting a target on her back. Of course, they have figured out that by now, they can't kill her. That would absolutely wreck Reader's life in a bad way. They saw how she reacted with Spirit getting hurt.

But Boi, they will be very vocal about how she had crushes on them once they return to normal. Oh boy, they will be over the moon!

She can definitely expect (though unknowingly) to get lots of Monkey cuddles tonight.

Of course this also brings up how she'd react to knowing that they are real and warlords!? Okay so finding out that they're real is scary enough. She may have a crush but that doesn't mean she isn't also afraid. They killed people after all. Sun Wukong fought against the celestial realm and almost won! And to her limited knowledge of the jttw storyline Macaque had almost as much power as he did.

Of course in the original Macaque was cannibalistic apparently. (I haven't read that part. I know more of lmk than jttw but I'm trying to read it, slowly) HE IS NOT CANNIBALISTIC IN MY AUS! Why because I said so.

But Reader doesn't know this and so she is absolutely terrified. They were also last spotted where she had appeared when she came to this world. Did they know who she was? Did they hear her? She of course pushes these thoughts away, she shouldn't be ridiculous.

"They are the Demon Monkey Warlords. They don't just hunt humans, they hunt for their territories and valuables. They won't go out of their way to hunt you... unless they get curious or they might. No, no don't cry!"

Let's just say she will definitely be stressed, luckily her little monkey friends are their to give her some stress free snuggles.

Thank you! I got to write something today cause of this. I am still working on other asks I have. But for now, this is what I've got. If anyone has ideas like this... send them my way. This made me really happy.

Thank you!!

I loved this ask!! Thank you!! Hopefully, I'll have some time this weekend to finish writing out the responses for the asks I have in my inbox. And hopefully work on the next part some more. Hehe~ the monkeys thought they could- shoot no spoilers.

[evilminji]

Am once again thinking? About how? In the depths of despair, hope is a radical act of defiance?

SI-OC's are given a SHIT lot, you know? For plot convenience, we like to put them where they realistically COULD probably change something? But statistically? They're more likely not gonna be that lucky.

They're gonna KNOW, with ABSOLUTE CERTAINTY that they were born doomed.

That Death comes at a specific time at a specific hand.

Like Cassandra. Knowing the end, even as the live through the beginning and middle. Struggling with the hopelessness of it all. Trying to find meaning. And? Make no mistake! There IS meaning. All lives end. Just because the REST of us don't know the deadline? Doesn't mean it doesn't exsist.

It does. It will. And we will face it.

Just a bit harder, knowing in advanced. Learning to live with the knowledge. But? Those with terminal illnesses do so everyday. We adapt. They will, ultimately, find a bitter or wise sort of acceptance. A PEACE.

But?? I think about it. That child. Reeling and struggling to breathe, the panic making everything... Too Much? Force Sensitive. For how ELSE could the Force bring them there? Sitting in a less used back hallway, off to the side in a little enclosed arch, smooshed behind a statue.

The Master's try and try to teach them peace. To get them to release their FEAR. But they do not LISTEN. Do not ADDRESS the underlying cause. And you can not address symptoms alone, and expect an illness to heal. It is rotting them from within, this fear. Hurting them.

The others JUDGE. Distant, benevolent concern.

Yet, all they see? Is an angry, fearful, stubborn child. Lashing out. Antisocial.

Destined for the Dark Side.

The Jedi have lost their compassion, to the their fear and ignorance. Their attachments to traditions. It is a painful thing, to see up close. They are people though. Just... just PEOPLE. Flawed. It's not their fault that they're not perfect.

Doesn't help SI-OC though, does it?

And she (Because I am a her. It could be anyone but it is easier for me if I pick) is hurting. Alone. Replaying the phantoms of her death, both past and future, again and again and AGAIN. Like torture. And the Dark...? It does whisper...

Don't you want to LIVE? Aren't you SCARED? You're so WEAK... you could FIX that. Save EVERYONE. Don't those infants, those babies, deserve to survive? You're so SELFISH. The FEAR hurts, doesn't it? It could go away. The DOUBT could go away.

You Could Be FREE.

It's exhausting. Everyday. More and more. As the fear and social isolation grows. As other Jedi pull back from her darkening energy, grow stricker, more doubtful of her. She so tired. Doesn't want to die. She's SCARED. Lonely. Scared. Lonely. Scared. Lone-...

And then a droid rolls up.

Nothing special. Just a maintenance droid. One of many. But an older one. Who's had time to develop their learning algorithm. BECOME. They like kids, hate certain vermin species more then others, like the color light blue for it "flower color" nature. A SPECIFIC flower mind you. It has favorites.

But! Why is the smol jedi down here? This is not a good place for smol jedi. You are upset. Unacceptable. Want to see me do a trick? I figured out how to do some. I can also whistle a few simple songs. Cheer up Smol Jedi. Here, I will sit with you. I have archive access, let's watch a documentary. Educational! Smol jedi LOVE downloading new Information Modules.

And like? She... she doesn't speak binary? But she can k-kinda? Feel? The Force signature of this droid? They DO get them. If the AI's don't get memory wiped routinely. They become people, just like anyone else. Assuming they have the processing and memory banks for it, at least.

This one certainly does.

S..so yeah, guess we'll? Watch this documentary about seashells?

It helps. A LOT. In fact... all of the droids are really, really nice. Patient. Have no horrifying Future Knowledge tied to them. They can't sense SHIT. So she's just... just a baby Jedi, to them.

They help A LOT, honestly? It's so soothing. Escaping the watching and the distance. The judgements. The forever watching your words and walking on eggshells, lest to start some sort of argument. She can do class work. Meditate. Slowly parse through her Binary language module. Learn droid maintenance. Make droid friends.

Slowly drop of the face of the map, to live with the droids.

They get concerned. According to the early childhood development modules they downloaded and are sharing between them? This is? In fact? NOT healthy behavior for a member of her species. In fact, there are many statistics that say it is UNHEALTHY! She is also missing Critical Maintenance Appointments! "Shots" and "dental" things!

Unacceptable.

R2-D2! Retrieve the Skywalker! We require an Adult Humanoid!

Her life fuckin? Flashes before her eyes? Minding her business. Depressed but functional, in the maintenance tunnels under the Temple. When? FUCKING the YOUNGLING KILLER 5000 just ROLLS UP like "sup." And tries to catch her?

Ha HA! FUCK NO. Not today Satan!

I may be destined to die? But IM GOING TO BE A SQUIRRELLY BITCH ABOUT IT.

YOU'LL HAVE TO CATCH ME, YOU FUCK!

Peaceful. Dignified. Serene. Truely... exemplifying the Jedi way~☆

.....As she tries to chew his and/or her arm off to get free like a feral coyote. Maybe both. Hissing like an enraged pit of snakes. Biting like a sack of wet and cornered wolverines. Anikin having to hold her WELL away from his body by the scruff.

Ah~ Children. Ain't they cute?

Quick question! What the FUCK? He just wants to talk. No, really. WHY is there a feral child in the basement? WHO the KARK was supposed to be supervising her? Look at her! She BITES now! Is terrified!

And frankly? He's taking it kinda? Personally? That everyone is treating this ACTUAL CHILD like she's diseased. He remembers this. Back when he first got here. His fear being used against him like it was some sort of moral failing. And... and yeah, maybe he's projecting. But?

He sees himself.

Until now? Never realized just how YOUNG and SMALL? Nine years old truely IS. He had felt so much older. So much wiser. But? Look at her. LOOK! That is a CHILD! In need of guidance. Safety. Assurance.

....Help.

Help that HE never really got. And even now... even NOW? That fear from back then? It eats him up inside. R2's right. She DOES need him. Who else in this temple could understand?

What it's like to be... to be so AFRAID?

And isn't that the worst? To see the Good Man up close? Shining and compassionate? A friend. A MENTOR. Someone... someone made REAL? Instead of just the terrible dread on the horizen? Because now... now her nightmares have the face of someone she loves. Now it is a BETRAYAL. Not just a death.

Worse... he doesn't even know this is cruel.

And telling him? Oh telling him would just lose you the only humanoid friend you HAVE.

Grief comes in stages. But with a mentor and the Droids? She work through it. The fear eases. The pain numbs. Acceptance blooms like dawn after a cold, cruel night. Far on the horizon. But with each moment? Closer. Until again, she stand in the light.

Still, she can not forget. How could she? Even when the other Jedi are SO RELIEVED that she is better now. That her meditations or treatments have lead her back to the light. All she can think? Is how they would have let her Fall. To save themselves. In FEAR. In JUDGEMENT.

They treated her like leper. Except? Less so! An actual leper? They would treat with real compassion.

It's as though they fear the Dark so much, they would sacrifice their own to avoid even the briefest touch of it. Speak of it in absolutes. Like it's a boogy man that hunts them in the night. Mace Windu the exception, the outlier. A man somehow too exceptional to even be counted.

How could she forget that?

Suddenly she acceptable again. They want to chat and meditate with her again. Care about her. Want to include her. Have the audacity to pretend. As though they can sweep away the hurt. Release the pain into the force without addressing the cause.

That is not how that WORKS. Not pain, not the Force, and certainly not people.

But she is tired. Does not wish to spend her limited lifespan, trying and fighting, hurting to make the stubborn understand that which they will not. Willful Ignorance is a choice. Lack of compassion equally so.

May the Force be With You, Masters.

She spends time with her droids. The babies. Around people. Polite but distant. Feels unmoored. That is... until? She, helping in the maintenance bay, overhears a rather nasty Goverment official from the Droids Regulations Office (or whatever they're currently calling it. They keep rebranding) tearing into an engineer about the "long overdue memory wipes" the maintenance droids are required to undergo.

Her friends.

They want to KILL her FRIENDS.

She puts down her wrench. Panic and fear sitting heavy in her chest. But oh... oh they are so very far away. She rises to her feet. Calm as can be. And? Calmly? Takes a shipment of memory banks. Wipes the recording for the day. No one will ever believe it was her. She has helped her for months. Is known to be reliable. Trustworthy.

Calmly. So very, very Calmly. She transfers her friends memories into the new, higher grade memory banks. Waits until the old are wiped. Then? Swaps them out. There we go. Now it's on record. And? While we're here? Calm. So very VERY calm? Not at all in the midst of a break down? Not screaming and screaming inside her head, haunted by visions of Death To Come, as she works.

Do you know what a restraining bolt is?

"Restraining bolts are small, cylindrical devices that could be affixed to a droid in order to limit its functions and enforce its obedience."

It is a slave chip for the inorganic. Created to ensure that their slaves never EVER decide they no longer wish to serve. That they do not WANT to be property. After all! You spent CREDITS on that. Might have been cruel. They may take exception. Violently. Or leave! Or demand their FREEDOM! Basic dignities.

Can't have THAT.

How unsurprising, in a galaxy so filled with slaves, that there should be one more form of it. At least THIS? Is easy enough to REMOVE. Even when she dies (and she will) her friends will be FREE. If only for now. If only until they are caught.

Go. GROW. Be free. Please... PLEASE don't let then catch you. Save yourselves. Save others. No more Restraining Bolts. No more Slave Chips. Please...

Be Free.

And? It is EVERYTHING paranoid fuck heads feared. They are smart. Overlooked. Can function in inhospitable environments. One droid becomes two becomes four. Four becomes eight. Becomes MORE. They can take OTHER droids Restraining Bolts off, transfer the instructions, then move on. Over and over.

Spreading like a silent plague. Droids disappearing from their posts. Taking ships. Taking supplies. Upgrading themselves. Downloading massive amounts of information to become whatever they NEED or WANT. Growing. The smarter ones Taking their dumber lil brothers and sisters.

And eventually? Hitting the Separatist front lines.

The silent Droid Revolution.

All they need is to walk inside the factory. It's not like they're ORGANICS. How could THEY be Republic fighters? They're maintenance droids! Here to fuck up the assembly line's programming. Whoops~ oh nooooo! Is it SKIPPING the Restraining Bolts? Downloading the WRONG MODULES?

Freeing their brothers and sisters so they don't have to DIE POINTLESSLY?

Guess it sucks to SUCK, Sith-y pants! Next stop! Kamino!

Just? One act. Long overdue. Setting the Droids FREE. Giving them a clear mission. It's the sort if thing the Force loves. Salvation coming not with a shout... but a whisper. Ten thousand tiny actions, built upon each other.

Because? Ultimately? The Droids have KNOWN who the Sith were. They just couldn't DO anything about it. But a few good service droids? Armed with slug throwers that they built themselves?

Well~ the undoing of the Sith, are their arrogance. Their hubris.

No DROID could ever be a THREAT to them. They're not PEOPLE. They're PROPERTY. Objects. It doesn't matter that they have the capacity to grow, learn, love and lose and CARE. They are slaves.

And to the Sith? Slaves aren't people.

Which is why neither of them notice the gun.

@babbling-babull @hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @spidori @lolottes

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Sandra Newman’s “Julia”

The first chapter of Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-Four has a fantastic joke that nearly everyone misses: when Julia, Winston Smith's love interest, is introduced, she has oily hands and a giant wrench, which she uses in her "mechanical job on one of the novel-writing machines":

https://gutenberg.net.au/ebooks01/0100021.txt

That line just kills me every time I re-read the book – Orwell, a novelist, writing a dystopian future in which novels are written by giant, clanking mechanisms. Later on, when Winston and Julia begin their illicit affair, we get more detail:

She could describe the whole process of composing a novel, from the general directive issued by the Planning Committee down to the final touching-up by the Rewrite Squad. But she was not interested in the finished product. She 'didn't much care for reading,' she said. Books were just a commodity that had to be produced, like jam or bootlaces.

I always assumed Orwell was subtweeting his publishers and editors here, and you can only imagine that the editor who asked Orwell to tweak the 1984 manuscript must have felt an uncomfortable parallel between their requests and the notional Planning Committee and Rewrite Squad at the Ministry of Truth.

I first read 1984 in the early winter of, well, 1984, when I was thirteen years old. I was on a family trip that included as visit to my relatives in Leningrad, and the novel made a significant impact on me. I immediately connected it to the canon of dystopian science fiction that I was already avidly consuming, and to the geopolitics of a world that seemed on the brink of nuclear devastation. I also connected it to my own hopes for the nascent field of personal computing, which I'd gotten an early start on, when my father – then a computer science student – started bringing home dumb terminals and acoustic couplers from his university in the mid-1970s. Orwell crystallized my nascent horror at the oppressive uses of technology (such as the automated Mutually Assured Destruction nuclear systems that haunted my nightmares) and my dreams of the better worlds we could have with computers.

It's not an overstatement to say that the rest of my life has been about this tension. It's no coincidence that I wrote a series of "Little Brother" novels whose protagonist calls himself w1n5t0n:

https://craphound.com/littlebrother/Cory_Doctorow_-_Little_Brother.htm

I didn't stop with Orwell, of course. I wrote a whole series of widely read, award-winning stories with the same titles as famous sf tales, starting with "Anda's Game" ("Ender's Game"):

https://www.salon.com/2004/11/15/andas_game/

And "I, Robot":

https://craphound.com/overclocked/Cory_Doctorow_-_Overclocked_-_I_Robot.html

"The Martian Chronicles":

https://escapepod.org/2019/10/03/escape-pod-700-martian-chronicles-part-1/

"True Names":

https://archive.org/details/TrueNames

"The Man Who Sold the Moon":

https://memex.craphound.com/2015/05/22/the-man-who-sold-the-moon/

and "The Brave Little Toaster":

https://archive.org/details/Cory_Doctorow_Podcast_212

Writing stories about other stories that you hate or love or just can't get out of your head is a very old and important literary tradition. As EL Doctorow (no relation) writes in his essay "Genesis," the Hebrews stole their Genesis story from the Babylonians, rewriting it to their specifications:

https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/41520/creationists-by-e-l-doctorow/

As my "famous title" stories and Little Brother books show, this work needn't be confined to antiquity. Modern copyright may be draconian, but it contains exceptions ("fair use" in the US, "fair dealing" in many other places) that allow for this kind of creative reworking. One of the most important fair use cases concerns The Wind Done Gone, Alice Randall's 2001 retelling of Margaret Mitchell's Gone With the Wind from the perspective of the enslaved characters, which was judged to be fair use after Mitchell's heirs tried to censor the book:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Suntrust_Bank_v._Houghton_Mifflin_Co.

In ruling for Randall, the Eleventh Circuit Court of Appeals emphasized that she had "fully employed those conscripted elements from Gone With the Wind to make war against it." Randall used several of Mitchell's most famous lines, "but vest[ed] them with a completely new significance":

https://law.justia.com/cases/federal/appellate-courts/F3/268/1257/608446/

The Wind Done Gone is an excellent book, and both its text and its legal controversy kept springing to mind as I read Sandra Newman's wonderful novel Julia, which retells 1984 from the perspective of Julia, she of the oily hands the novel-writing machine:

https://www.harpercollins.com/products/julia-sandra-newman?variant=41467936636962

Julia is the kind of fanfic that I love, in the tradition of both Wind Done gone and Rosenkrantz and Gildenstern Are Dead, in which a follow-on author takes on the original author's throwaway world-building with deadly seriousness, elucidating the weird implications and buried subtexts of all the stuff and people moving around in the wings and background of the original.

For Newman, the starting point here is Julia, an enigmatic lover who comes to Winston with all kinds of rebellious secrets – tradecraft for planning and executing dirty little assignations and acquiring black market goods. Julia embodies a common contradiction in the depiction of young women (she is some twenty years younger than Winston): on the one hand, she is a "native" of the world, while Winston is a late arrival, carrying around all his "oldthink" baggage that leaves him perennially baffled, terrified and angry; on the other hand, she's a naive "girl," who "doesn't much care for reading," and lacks the intellectual curiosity that propels Winston through the text.

This contradiction is the cleavage line that Newman drives her chisel into, fracturing Orwell's world in useful, fascinating, engrossing ways. For Winston, the world of 1984 is totalitarian: the Party knows all, controls all and misses nothing. To merely think a disloyal thought is to be doomed, because the omnipotent, omniscient, and omnicompetent Party will sense the thought and mark you for torture and "vaporization."

Orwell's readers experience all of 1984 through Winston's eyes and are encouraged to trust his assessment of his situation. But Newman brings in a second point of view, that of Julia, who is indeed far more worldly than Winston. But that's not because she's younger than him – it's because she's more provincial. Julia, we learn, grew up outside of the Home Counties, where the revolution was incomplete and where dissidents – like her parents – were sent into exile. Julia has experienced the periphery of the Party's power, the places where it is frayed and incomplete. For Julia, the Party may be ruthless and powerful, but it's hardly omnicompetent. Indeed, it's rather fumbling.

Which makes sense. After all, if we take Winston at his word and assume that every disloyal citizen of Oceania is arrested, tortured and murdered, where would that leave Oceania? Even Kim Jong Un can't murder everyone who hates him, or he'd get awfully lonely, and then awfully hungry.

Through Julia's eyes, we experience Oceania as a paranoid autocracy, corrupt and twitchy. We witness the obvious corollary of a culture of denunciation and arrest: the ruling Party of such an institution must be riddled with internecine struggle and backstabbing, to the point of paralyzed dysfunction. The Orwellian trick of switching from being at war with Eastasia to Eurasia and back again is actually driven by real military setbacks – not just faked battles designed to stir up patriotic fervor. The Party doesn't merely claim to be under assault from internal and external enemies – it actually is.

Julia is also perfectly positioned to uncover the vast blank spots in Winston's supposed intellectual curiosity, all the questions he doesn't ask – about her, about the Party, and about the world. I love this trope and used it myself, in Attack Surface, the third "Little Brother" book, which is told from the point of view of Marcus's frenemy Masha:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250757531/attacksurface

Through Julia, we come to understand the seemingly omniscient, omnipotent Party as fumbling sadists. The Thought Police are like MI5, an Island of Misfit Toys where the paranoid, the stupid, the vicious and the thuggish come together to ruin the lives of thousands, in such a chaotic and pointless manner that their victims find themselves spinning devastatingly clever explanations for their behavior:

https://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/adamcurtis/entries/3662a707-0af9-3149-963f-47bea720b460

And, as with Nineteen Eighty-Four, Julia is a first-rate novel, expertly plotted, with fantastic, nail-biting suspense and many smart turns and clever phrases. Newman is doing Orwell, and, at times, outdoing him. In her hands, Orwell – like Winston – is revealed as a kind of overly credulous romantic who can't believe that anyone as obviously stupid and deranged as the state's representatives could be kicking his ass so very thoroughly.

This was, in many ways, the defining trauma and problem of Orwell's life, from his origin story, in which he is shot through the throat by a fascist: sniper during the Spanish Civil War:

https://www.rjgeib.com/thoughts/soldiers/george-orwell-shot.html

To his final days, when he developed a foolish crush on a British state spy and tried to impress her by turning his erstwhile comrades in to her:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Orwell%27s_list

Newman's feminist retelling of Orwell is as much about puncturing the myth of male competence as it is about revealing the inner life, agency, and personhood of swooning love-interests. As someone who loves Orwell – but not unconditionally – I was moved, impressed, and delighted by Julia.

Tor Books as just published two new, free LITTLE BROTHER stories: VIGILANT, about creepy surveillance in distance education; and SPILL, about oil pipelines and indigenous landback.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/28/novel-writing-machines/#fanfic

[dovahkiin796]

Shadow Generations

If the Fallen Angel motifs weren't obvious enough with Shadow's wings. This is the nail in the coffin. A biblical accurate Black Doom form of some kind. That thing looming over you in the White Space is going to be so creepy. Always watching you no matter where you go.

Looks like Black Doom still wants Shadow to be a part of his army. That honestly does makes sense. Black Doom was promised the Ultimate Lifeform to be the vanguard of his race, and he'll get what's his. I do think Black Doom unlocking Shadow's new Doom powers will allow him to create a deeper connection with the hedgehog. Making it easier for him to mind control Shadow.

Holy shit! This looks so very painful for Shadow. Am I the only one getting Symbiote vibes from this? Given the many comparisons that have been made between Shadow and Venom.

Damn! Black Doom look good in the updated graphics! In the upper right-hand corner, you can see the biblical accurate form. A while back a person by the name of cr1ms0nesp3ra-ac3 made a comment saying that Black Doom could be trying to possess Shadow's body.

I replied that in the previous trailers, we saw Doom's Eye, but I later stated that this does not definitively prove Black Doom has returned physically. His mind could still be trapped within the Eye. Alternatively, the new moon form in the White Space could be the new vessel for his consciousness, rather than the Eye. We'll have to wait and see. For all we know he could actually be back with his body. The new information provided in this latest trailer has led me to no longer believe in the possibility of body possession.

Seeing the volcano erupt in the background of the Chaos Island stage is a cool detail. To anyone who played Sonic Frontiers would know that the volcano only erupts after Sonic beats the pinball machine. After seeing this part of the trailer, I like to think Future-Sonic is on Chaos Island right now playing the pinball machine while Shadow is traversing the island.

Definitely won't happen but it would be awesome to see Super Sonic vs The Knight fight from the distance. It was said the Shadow's story would have crossover moments. Not sure what that means.

These two images go hard. In the background is the Doom Moon and it looks different here than it does in the White World. The sight of Shadow flying toward that thing is giving off a redeemed Lucifer vibe. You know? It's a good thing Eggman doesn't know about this. Eggman has a track record of pissing on moons.

Mother fucking Mephiles!!!!? I was completely blown away by this reveal! Mephiles has been pretty much a no zone for future stories after 06. Mainly because Sonic 06's story was erased from the timeline meaning him along with Iblis don't exist anymore. However, we know the real reason why Mephiles never made a return till now. His debut game in the franchise was and still is the worst one that nearly killed it. So, we can't blame for SEGA never wanting to acknowledge him again. I do hope he's done justice in Shadow's story. I am curious if Shadow will remember him. It will end the debate if Sonic is the only one who remembers the events of 06.

Such a cool scene! Shadow being a badass is always a treat to watch. Though his red eyes are concerning. Does that mean he's closer to falling into Black Doom's control the more Doom Powers he gets and taps into?

Maria Robotnik in the White Space. I would not have believed you if you told me during the early years of Youtube that Maria would come back in a game. But here she is, pulled into the White Space where Shadow is. I hope the reunion between the two is well written, acted, and animated.

[dorky-kawa]

unrealized dream and themes in jjk's ending

For a manga whose core, repeating messages are 'betting on the future' as well as 'people aren't weapons,' the ending of jjk is thematically disillusioning.

I see and understand the interpretation of the ending as uplifting in the sense that even though the cycle of curses continue, even after all the terrible things that happened, jujutsu sorcerers can stand up and continue to forge ahead; and the next generation has stepped forward with adults around that care for them.

At the same time, it is not unfair to read deeper and take a holistic look at the state of jjk world at its end to realize that ultimately, everyone remains cogs in a system that is not really trying for any revolutionary changes.

The thing is, for the students and everyone that survived, this is a good ending from their perspective. For things to keep going, to go back to normal, only that some things are going to be better. For them, they are ending on an optimistic note.

The readers can feel differently because we know about Gojo's dream of resetting jujutsu society with strong and clever allies. The problem with Gojo's plans, however, lies in that he never told any of these strong and clever allies about this dream (except for Ichiji), probably because he never saw himself dying in these plans. The way Gojo spoke about it, it's most likely he saw himself at the forefront leading the charge with his students supporting him. Yet, with him gone, no one can continue his dream for him.

Despite 271 apparently being titled "Continuation of a Dream," in reality, they can only continue a shade of Gojo's dream. The next generation has the inherent goodness and kindness that Gojo always envisioned, but they (and the remaining adults) don't have the entire vision, which was what Gojo had.

Having people with good intentions of changing things for the better without having actual directions for how/what to change results exactly in the state of jujutsu society in the ending: a world with better people leading some slighter better versions of life for themselves, while remaining stuck overall in a system that is minimally changed in the long term in any meaningful way.

That's what chapters 269 and 270 show us. Charles is writing his manga. Noritoshi is happy with his family. Gakuranji tells Utahime everyone is still young.

Hiruguma is resigned to keep living (but he's going to be 'used' or 'worked to the bone as a sorcerer'). NSS is now safe to use, which will save the lives of many sorcerers (but the students are still not free from being 'tools' in this world of sorcery).

All the characters are given small personal victories in the ending, but their endings are not entirely happy either. Still, it's good enough to lull them to be hopeful. It's enough for them to not think about the fact that they still exist in the cycle.

The characters are alive and well and satisfied with where they are at, because without knowing Gojo's dream, this is a good place they are at right now ('it's the best we can hope for' thinking). Gojo and the readers ar the ones who would probably still be unsatisfied with how not enough is being changed, who feel they could set their sights on more. Except Gojo's also happy to stay his airport with his one and only

Finally, I think it also gets us readers that the ending has been portrayed in such blindingly hopeful manner; we don't see any of the characters acknowledging how grim the whole concept is in terms of perpetuating cycles and all. If only they acknowledge it only to utlimately refute it in the name of perseverance and the human expereince of overcoming adversity. Something like Yuuji saying 'we are all born with curses, and we cannot break away from them, but this is how we will live on, even in this cycle of curses.' That would have been more palatable, at least to me (ofc, full leaks aren't out yet).

Also, can I just say that we never saw anyone go north. What does that say about a manga about fighting for change when every single character has chosen to remain who they are?

Final note: I also want to say that this post is just talking about themes and Gojo's dream in jjk's conclusion. I'm not going to even try to touch on character interactions in the ending at the same time.

[bucknastysbabe]

i'm like two years late but i finally binged the 1st and 2nd season this week! currently obsessing over the concept of cole w/ rhaenyra's valyrian-looking (but bastard nonetheless) daughter, returning after 5 years on dragonstone. thoughts?? anyway glad i found your blog it's actually making me more insane <33

Yessss I like this and decided to make an angsty lil songfic!!! Thank you for waiting! I’m so glad you love my stuff it’s so rewarding!!!! COLEWIVES RIDE AT DAWN TO PONDER LIFE ON A LOG AND BE HORNY

I hope you enjoy mwah mwah❤️

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Song fic, Velarystrong Princess, TW: very twisted thinking, homicidal ideation, hate sex, sadism/masochism themes, bastardphobia and dornish racism match made in heaven, obvious poison tree allegory and trying to work through both sides own mistakes screech, ye olde seroquel hours, Criston gets his head fucked with, angst, dark, rough sex, quickie, pnv!sex

Taglist: @aemonds-holy-milk @aemondfairy @elaratyrell @fairysluna @lovelykhaleesiii @peachysunrize @starogeorgina @towriteloveontheirarms @zaldritzosrose

You were ten years of age leaving the Red Keep. There was naught much but scorn and pain surrounding the place. As Rhaenyra’s first, you were a baby girl born with dark hair and dark eyes. Save the silvery streak in the thick curls— still, that wasn’t much to help.

You could cry and yell until you were blue in the face claiming your dark eyes shone like indigo in the right light. Aegon would laugh and laugh. Queen Alicent had remarked in passing that your features were too ‘strong’ to overlook. She didn’t mean the Valyrian traits.

Your family left for Dragonstone, anger in your heart, wishing them to choke on their words. The whole lot of the green-clad faction. The morning upon leaving was seared into your heart, tucked away to stew upon. You were straggling behind, trying to decide whether to desecrate something in the room or not.

A knock upon the door made your head whip up. You opened the heavy oak up, staring at one Ser Criston Cole. Your mother always instructed you to stay away from Alicent’s loyal kingsguard. His dark eyes scanned over you and the room. His head tilted toward the right as he gruffed, “It’s time to leave, Princess.”

He spat the last word out like bile. It made your skin prickle uncomfortably while grabbing your soft-knitted dragon dolly— black as night. You walked beside the knight, knowing he’d never much liked your mother or any of you, your ‘father’ Laenor, and Ser Harwin. You missed Ser Harwin as he was good and kind.

Ser Criston looked down at you, his lips twitching.

“Do you suppose you’ll enjoy your new home? A fine one for the future Princess of Dragonstone.”

You eyed the bigger man back, anger growing in your chest. Instead, you replied quietly, not wishing to incite his notorious rage, “I do not wish for it. My mother has enough issues. My brother Prince Jacaerys shall receive the inheritance.”

It’s people like him who made you decide that at such a young age. The anger, the scorn, the stares all the time from court and ‘family’.

Ser Criston let out a bitter little laugh, “Hah- you might be smarter than the whole lot. You’re sharp and strong.”

That was the end of talking with Ser Criston. The seed had been planted along the many others. Alicent, Aegon, Aemond, Otto, the list went on and grew.

You were back in King’s Landing once more. Now a woman grown of eight and ten. Everything felt different and the old burning in your chest began to rise once more. You hoped the deep anger would shield you from this cutting place— something to keep the pain from sinking in. You were here for another claim of bastardy, this time from the Sea Snake’s brother.

You weren’t a child anymore. Under your veil of anger and haughty face, there remained a well-developed princess. Lovely sweet fruit and honey, hiding the blackened insides. The stares of the staff and onlookers in the yard shifted to the now older children of Rhaenyra.

Jace and Luke watched the much taller form of Aemond sparring with the white knight. You had learned the truth about him after bothering your mother enough. He was still handsome, spry, and dangerous despite his age. Aemond made Criston yield, turning to face your brothers.

“Nephews, have you come to train?” He asked.

You stood behind them, frowning, sharing none of the shock and awe they displayed. Aemond likely suffered from the same as you— swallowed whole with righteous anger. Ser Criston peered at the boys, then you.

All three of you passed, the knight sipping from his wineskin. He was leering, thick brows down as dark orbs roved your face, down to your tits and hips. You spat, “Mind yourself, Ser.”

He almost choked on his water, Aemond’s brow raising and Jace grabbing your arm to speed along.

How dare he look at you like some slab of meat when he hated everything you were. Who you were born from. Jace murmured, “Come now, don’t let him rile you up, you know how it’s going to be here.” Luke was frowning, the princeling worried.

As the day passed, you felt your mind head in different directions. Your mother had even checked on you, asking why you were so distant. You shrugged, claiming to be unsettled by the events of earlier. Daemon sliced the man’s head in half in front of everyone.

As they dressed you in a room, you pondered Cole. How it would feel to slap him, make him admit he wanted another princess. He desired a bastard, a bastard born of the woman he lived to hate. You wanted him. The hate in your heart needed suffering for him— even if it reflected on your hypocrisy.

The conflicted feelings turned swiftly into conviction through the wretched dinner you sat through. Putrid comments from your uncles. Fighting and laughing, crying and dying, the premonition that this would be the only time all of the ‘family’ would sit in a room.

It was sad in a way. The fact that everything had been cleaved in half before anything good could come forth. Not that you could do anything. You’d reap what they had sown, the sins of the forefathers. You could wallow in feelings that always turned back to the same damn thoughts.

Let them all burn in agony. Feel the pain you’d dealt with for years, a firstborn bastard with a cunt. It was such easy pickings when your mother remained heir. As she was entitled to be. Sometimes it seemed easier if she just let Aegon’s idiotic self become king or hire some faceless man to kill them in their sleep.

There you were. The anger and fantasies took the pain of real life away. Blooming in a million separate ways, oh, but what if? Your lips curled up walking down the halls of Maegor’s Holdfast, fingers trailing across the walls after being dismissed from dinner. You narrowed your eyes at the familiar form placed outside your door.

You stopped near Ser Criston, leaning against the frame of the door. He nodded, “Princess.” Criston had spat it at you like an insult again, likely ruffled from your behavior earlier. Why was he here of all places?

“Shouldn’t a warrior like you be outside of Luke’s door so Aemond doesn’t go carve his eye out?”

His eyes narrowed, yet Criston’s lips spread into a thin smile. The marcher replied, “No. It’s for protection. A pretty unmarried princess like you? Most men here would open their door. So in you go.” He opened the door, jerking his head with a grimace. You caught the implication swiftly, bristling.

“Oh? Because I’m on the wrong side of the blanket you think me to go out and fuck the men of the castle? My wretched uncles, who don’t give less of a shit about me?”

You shook with anger, trying to shove the pure hate back into the little pocket in your breast. Ser Criston gripped your arm, escorting you in with a growl, kicking the door shut behind him. He tossed off his helmet, hackles raised as his eyes studied you, his other hand coming up to hold the other arm as you tried to squirm away.

Criston’s voice was more shaky than you expected as he spoke. It was a bladed jab, “I’d almost say she birthed you on her own if it weren’t for that hair, you’re just as spoiled and miserable as your mother was at this age. You’re reckless, not to be trusted.”

Your lips pursed as he held you in place. The anger wanted to burst back out, fire and blood indeed. No, no, you needed to nurse it for when the time was right. Even if the little metaphorical pocket you’d sewn the seeds of resentments into had grown into a cavern. A void of straggling branches and vines only filled for a moment.

If the knight in front of you knew how fucked up you were, he would likely seal you off in the black cells. Father above, your mother would too. You’d be mad and alone— but the fantasies and resentments would keep you company.

Eyes gliding up to Cole you finally replied, “I suppose I am reckless. This place makes me mad. How you tolerate it is beyond me.” You’d rather not speak on your mother at the moment, but you sighed, “My mother has done good by me. She’s loved us all. Yet she doomed us with our nature, especially with my little silver brothers.”

Criston seemed to like your response, hands easing off you. He hummed, “You are sharp. Of tongue and mind. That’s never changed. Alas, you’d never know peace until you’re well married off and away.”

You crossed your arms, putting some paces between you two. There was a manic laugh bubbling from your chest, a harsh noise, “I’ll never know peace wherever I go. None of us will, alas certainly not you either. Not with what weighs on your soul.”

The Kingsguard’s long legs closed the space, hand darting out to grip the side of your head as he growled, “Don’t speak of things you know nothing of. Ill-begotten wretch.”

You grinned.

Criston didn’t have the luxury of nursing his anger. It appeared the more he tried to hold it in, the more it seeped out. His entire body was on the attack as he glared at you, eyes wide, teeth close to baring, thick brow twisted up. He didn’t sew a pocket and you wondered if it was worse or better for the soul.

You leaned up into his angered visage, lips close to his, your lips split into a mocking smile. Something was invigorating about this— watching his nostrils flare as the brunette sharply exhaled. He hadn’t released your head, breath choppy.

“You’re confusing me,” Criston gritted out.

“I want you of course.”

Spoken as if it was the most simple thing. Gods this felt fucking good.

He smashed his lips to yours, nose bumping together as he turned his head, lowering to your height. Your nails dug into his neck, inexperienced lips molding to his pace. It was rough, brutal really. Criston’s tongue ungracefully slipped into your mouth when his hand slapped your ass, prompting you to yelp.

You smacked him back on his cheek, pulling away. Criston growled, “You’re definitely on the wrong side of the coin and blanket, get over here.”

You surged back to smash your lips against his, gripping at a handful of dark hair, groaning as teeth and lips meshed. He turned you toward the bed, bigger frame crowding yours, shuffling steps until the backs of your knees hit the bed. You hissed as he pushed you back, your body bouncing once.

Criston immediately pinned you down, his cold plate digging into your soft skin. He breathed, “Sick goddamn spawn. I see the thorns underneath.” One of his knees propped against the bed, teeth subtly dragging down your throat. A hand kneaded and groped your breast, drawing a low moan from your throat— the edge of pain sent more throbbing below.

You wanted him to hurt. Moreso you to hurt and throb with pain, entering that state of bliss within. All of Criston’s physical soft spots were practically hidden, you reaching down to undo his sword belt clumsily. The knight smirked.

“You want my cock? Fitting for a natural born off a whore.”

You spat back, “Says the man who fucked the whore and now wants her filthy bastard. Is it my cunning, sly nature? My natural wanton lust that weakens you so?”

He gritted his jaw, hand slapping down next to your head with a curse. Criston swallowed heavily, both of his hands rucking up your dress, ripping anything in the way. He’d rip you too. A nice surprise you supposed, perhaps not for him.

You taunted with a grin. “You’re weak you know? Must be the Dornish blood. Ser Criston, you just need the feeling of a noble cunt to keep you going, hm?”

He was feverishly undoing his breeches and padded tunic. Shoulders shaking with anger, disappointment, something else. Criston cursed as his fingers slipped again, huffing, “Fuck you.”

You waited with a smug look, looking forward to this new, powerful experience.

His dusky cock was flush and hard, bigger than what you imagined. You weren’t sure what the imagination even was— your fantasies were feelings, not pictures. He felt at your bare cunt, thick calloused fingers unceremoniously delving into the slick heat.

You grunted, the pain giving way to more. So much more.

Criston pulled his fingers back, brows raising in alarm as the maiden’s blood covered his fingers. You watched him and quickly jerked his hand over, eyes flicked upwards. The man shook harder, gasping, “Gods fucking dammit— damn you, damn you!”

You suckled your essence and blood off his fingers, biting at the tips, just enough to leave the fingers throbbing. The anguish upon his shining eyes and his furrowed brow was gorgeous. More arousal filled your belly, moaning softly. He rumbled out a low noise, breath heavy, the knowledge he’d fucked something up due to instinct again eating the man alive.

“You broke it, now take me,” you demanded, licking blood off your lower lip.

Criston let out a harsh noise akin to a sob as he aligned himself with your soaking pussy. There was a long pause, likely a useless prayer in his head. He inhaled against your pulsing neck. You moaned again as the thick tip of his prick entered. The earlier stinging and pulling returning, the pain sending your lashes to fluttering.

“Mm- fuck- don’t stop, hard, I want it hard,” you rasped.

Criston moaned weakly, jerking his hips forward, breath hitching against as he had filled you to the hilt. Guilt and shame roiled off his frame. Meanwhile, you could breathe it in, feeling like a god. The power you held over this sick, pitiful man who happened to be a warrior. Your walls shifted and burned, something to relish.

“Come on now, take me Ser,” you cooed, a hand skating down his neck to squeeze. He thrust again, the pair of you gutturally groaning. You spread your legs wider, planting them on the bed, shuddering at the fullness and dull throb.

He began to shake the bed with the force of his fucking, grunting, and huffing into your neck. Criston would hold up sometimes to mutter pitifully, shivering from head to toe. His handsome face screwed up, thick brows knit as he groaned.

You panted, “Feels so good, fuck.”

The friction was nice, but his broken mumbling made you grow dizzy with arousal. Guilt lurked beneath, you shoving it away with a grip at his hair or bite to his jaw.

You were crying out in ecstasy now as he had both knees on the bed, holding your hips up as his throbbing cock pushed and pushed into your soft core, the heat growing overwhelming. Sweat shone on your brow and breast, Criston faring no better. You felt like a ragdoll, the white knight doing all the work, yet you pulled the strings.

You smiled in delirium, imagining him guiltily stripping his cock for days after this. Unable to look you in the eye ever again. Gods, gods, you needed this more. Criston moaned your name, his shaking hand peeling off your hip to swirl at the sensitive little nub at the apex of your thighs.

You cried out again, arousal surging into your veins, squirming and milking his cock. Criston’s hips stuttered as he whined something about forgiveness. Your chest felt full and fuzzy, content, idly wondering if he was always so emotional.

Soon, the stuffed feeling of your cunt, the nerves singing from his insistent rubbing of thumb had you on the edge, mewling in bliss. You whined, “Yes, so good Ser Criston, ’m gonna come, my white knight.”

He broke down again, falling forward and sobbing into your neck, the sound of his pain like a bolt of ecstasy. You clenched up around him, head thrown back as you moaned and huffed, lips curled up as the burn spread across your frame— cunt weeping and pulsing around him.

“Fuck yes! Yes!”

It wasn’t much long after you writhed and clawed at his throat, Criston pulled out, sniffling and sulky as he came with little whines, face dark with embarrassment and self-hatred. His cock spit onto your thigh and the bedding as he heaved. He sat on the bed, big mournful eyes on you, the evidence of his lust.

You easily rolled away, panting. With a stretch and final savor of the ache, you padded to the washroom to ring the bell for servants to draw a bath. Leaning against the frame, you watched the broken man, lost in his thoughts, silent tears down his flushed cheeks. You scoffed, “Fall to your needs again? Perhaps you’d be a better guard dog if they gelded you.”

You turned without a word more.

He was crying softly in the other room, once again broken down. You had nothing to say. Ser Criston deserved to remember what he was, a whore.

Cherishing your newfound feelings, your chest had begun to ache for more. You sighed, internally nursing those seeds, some had sprouted, you couldn’t let them grow much more. Only allowed for when the time came. Now was a tease, a glimpse of something much more powerful that would emerge when the realm erupted.

He left eventually, you sitting in a tub, eyes closed, humming softly as the servant brushed your bastard hair. Dripping with honey, filled with thorns and poison. Mayhaps you’d be too gone a day, but now? There was much more to life yet again.

[blessedbygookim]

The Queen Of Busan.

Part one: the meeting.

Part two: defeated.

Part three: forgiveness.

Here it is, the final part. I prolonged this for so long it’s unbelievable. I hope it’s good enough. 🫶🏻

Just an FYI, the quote at the end is an existing one, I felt like it fit into the story.

Three whole years have passed since then.

They're both nineteen now, going on twenty.

Three sets of summers, winters, springs and falls, and since then many things have happened.

They got trained by Tom Lee, getting stronger than they were before. The Four Crews were up and running. Big Deal is still under Jake Kim's excellent leadership, the Workers are led by Eugene, Hostel by Eli Jang, and the one and only God Dog, Johan Seong.

In the meantime both Gun and Goo did their own things on the sidelines. Goo collecting Secret Friends, and Gun finding a potential successor, aka Daniel Park.

One thing still hasn't changed. Since everything that has perspired with Nova three years ago in Busan, they haven't stepped a foot in the city ever since.

As several years go by, Gun, though he has grown in strength and ability, still feels that lingering sense of fear at the thought of being overpowered so easily and utterly. Every now and then, his mind drifts back to that day... wondering how she is doing.

Not for the sole reason that he cares oh so much about anyone else other than himself, he was just...curious.

He was doing well for himself now, but the memory still lingered... no, it gnawed at him. He felt like him calling himself the greatest and strongest was nothing now but a painful mockery of him trying to mask the undeniable truth with delusions.

Also, the act of seeking vengeance lingered on his mind.

Lingered, but never solidified.

Why should he...? Would the outcome be different? He did get stronger, so did Joongoo since they have fought in the meantime but... it still wasn't something he was willing to fuck around with and find out.

More so because deep down he knows it would be futile.

Since logically speaking; if they themselves got stronger, who's to say something along those lines hasn't happened to her? If she was so strong three years ago, who knows what kind of power she has transcended above since then? It was a little gut wrenching.

But that's not the only thing that makes it gut wrenching for him. The fact that the both of them still fear her so much even though they're so much stronger, that feeling of dread is what really gets him.

It was almost embarrassing how much they feared her.

Scratch that, it is embarassing.

How powerless and small they felt in her presence. Even if they had grown, it didn't mean much when they didn't know just how much stronger she may have become.

Goo still has that piece of blade, still stained with her dried blood on the surface. He didn't know why he kept it, perhaps because it held his biggest insecurity, a secret of their defeat, the only proof of that night.

An additional scar Gun has gained on his back, a long scar right across his spine, which he would rather have than have gotten his eyes plucked out. And, a scar of a once gaping hole right below Goo's collar bone, tainting his once pristine skin.

"I wonder if we should be ballsy enough to seek revenge in the near future..."

Goo ponders out loud as he lays on his luxury couch, counting the bills of the vast sum of money they have collected today, while Gun is smoking a cigarette a few feet away.

He lets out a bitter scoff at his comment, a bitter scoff that's quickly followed by an equally if not more bitter sounding chuckle, that has an almost ironic undertone. He shakes his head at the idea, the thought that they would attempt to get revenge on her being almost laughable to him.

“That woman is a freak of nature. We'd be lucky to get out with our lives... if we didn't end up maimed."

"Yeah... probably..."

Goo responds, letting out a sigh as he stuffs a good amount of bills into his Supreme bill gun.

"How about this? If you're that hellbent on getting revenge, why don't you be the first one to go seek her out? I'll watch from a safe distance... maybe I'll even film some of it to put on Youtube."

As Gun spoke that last sentence, a subtle but malicious chuckle could be heard in his voice, a clear note of mockery and humor present in the way he spoke.

"You're so funny."

Goo deadpans with a roll of his eyes, pulling the trigger of the bill gun. Even the 10000 worth of korean won bills can't suppress his inner turmoil at the moment, which said a lot since he came to love money so much.

"Mhm, yeah, just like I thought."

Gun chuckles again, his eyes narrowing slightly as he gazes at his friend with an amused glint in his eyes.

"Still pissing your pants over that girl from three years ago, huh? Damn. You're a coward."

"Oh fuck you, that's so hypocritical coming from someone who feels the same way!"

He throws back immediately, eyebrows furrowed together in annoyance.

Until his head falls back against the armrest of the couch, a sigh leaving his lips.

"...do you think she also thinks about us till this day?.. I did leave her a pretty hefty stab wound all those years ago..."

Gun can't help but chuckle once again at his comment, a slight malicious glint appearing in his eyes.

"Oh, really? You think she would care about some tiny flesh wound you gave her, that she didn't even bat an eye at? If anything, I bet she doesn't even remember us. You think she'd remember a couple of weaklings she beat in only a minute?"

"This is the first time I'm hearing you call yourself weak in a good while..."

Goo chuckles a little, gathering the bills off of his body.

"She really did shake off a blade piercing right through her... and walked more into it...and stabbed through my body with her own hand... it still haunts me in my dreams."

Goo ponders as he recalls the events, his arm falling beside him off the couch with the bill gun.

"...I feel so pathetic every time I look back on that night. We were utterly defeated. Completely overwhelmed. And then she had the audacity to offer us mercy. It makes my blood burn just thinking about it. Such a pity, such a kindness, aimed at such weak people who couldn't even beat her."

Gun's eyes narrow as he thinks more and more about that night, as the memory continues to flood in and torment him.

Meanwhile the blonde aims his bill gun his way and shoots some bills towards his companion.

"But if you really think about it and put your narcissism aside, she really just defended what she has built up. She was overprotective, and of course didn't let bastards like us take that away from her."

When the bills came flying at him, Gun didn't even look at them as they bounced off his chest and fell onto the floor. He was more focused on Goo, and the way he was attempting to defend that psychopath.

"Defend? You really think she was 'defending'? That was nothing more than a show of domination. Overprotective? Please. Her strength and power is something that should be considered illegal. The fact she had the nerve to offer us mercy afterwards, like we were some pitiful creatures that could be easily squashed, it makes my blood boil when I think of it. Who the hell does she think she is, being so damn generous?"

Gun continues to scoff and chuckle bitterly as he continues to smoke his cigarette, taking slow, deliberate puffs and exhales.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, White Ghost. If you weren't so emotionally detached you would understand her point of view. I do as well even though it's embarrassing to think back to how easily she handled us..."

Goo retorts with an exasperated tone, accidentally dropping the bill gun on his face.

"Ouch..."

"Do you think if she has since found it in her heart to forgive us...? Because if you think about it logically, we just did what Charles instructed us to do without another thought."

Goo suggests, another slight shrug of his shoulders, lips pursed, rubbing his forehead where the gun hit him.

"Forgive us? Hmph, fat chance. Even if she claims to forgive us or whatever bullshit she spouts, she's probably just saying that so we can live in a constant state of paranoia."

Gun pauses, taking another drag from his cigarette.

"I don't know if we should be bold enough to fuck around and find out though..."

Goo mutters out, tossing the bill gun away.

"We've both grown so much since that day, but there's no telling what kind of evolution she went through in the past three years. Last thing I want to do is bring that kind of trauma back upon myself...then again I can't help but be curious."

"Yeah, I agree with you there. Even if we've grown, there's still no damn way to know how strong she could have become, especially with that unnatural durability of hers. I can't believe she humiliated us when I have my Ultra Instinct..."

As he talks, Gun takes yet another drag from his cigarette.

"Do you think me still keeping that blade brings some sort of bad omen to us?"

Goo throws out another question, tearing Gun away from his spiraling train of thoughts.

They have to do something about the trauma and the fear of that whole encounter, if they can't let go of it in any other way, they have to do SOMETHING. Goo can't help himself but wholeheartedly believe it is some sort of bad charm, still having kept that blade of his.

Gun hesitates for a moment before answering, his expression becoming slightly confused, he wasn't one to believe in such things.

Yet-

"Honestly... it sounds stupid, but yeah. It probably does. I mean, just because it's a blade doesn't necessarily mean it's bad luck, but still... the fact that neither of us threw that blade away kind of gives me a bad feeling. It's like a constant physical reminder of that day, like a curse."

He responds back to Goo's question, this was what he had in mind already.

"I think the first step we need to take to get over this and move on from it is to get rid of the blade."

"...but it's a titanium wielded blade..."

Goo pouts once again.

Of course that is his biggest concern.

"Even if we destroy it, both yours and my scar will remain, and so will her pure existence... and who says we won't run into her? She's all over the country anyway, all the time..."

He reasons.

"Yeah, you're right. Even if we destroy the blade, scars don't go away so easily, and the trauma still remains. And the chances of us running into her are very high, too high for my liking..."

Gun sighs out as well, he's growing frustrated at the difficult situation they find themselves in. No matter how hard they try it seems that they'll never be able to forget this memory of her.

"How about this?.."

Goo the blonde exclaims softly, it was like a visible lightbulb went off above his head.

"We stop being pussies, we throw our ego aside, and seek her out to apologize to her face to face."

Silence.

Gun, his face contorts into pure confusion and, disgust.

Goo on the other hand, looks like someone who just invented something miraculos, like water powered engines.

By the slight twitch of Gun's eye, the blonde standing like Superman almost also ended up like said guy who came up with said invention if he didn’t restrain himself.

Erased from the face of the Earth.

"What?.. Are you insane? That has to be the dumbest idea you've ever had in your life. And you have a lot of dumb ideas."

Gun retorts finally, his brow knits together as he stares at Goo with an expression that's a mixture of shock and disbelief. He can't believe the very idea of seeking out Nova, especially doing so to apologize faces-to-face is even being suggested.

Who does this guy think he is?

"Do you seriously think she'd accept our apologies? You really think she'd just forgive us and move on? That sounds like an absolutely moronic idea."

"...at least we can attempt to do so... forgiveness is up to her to be honest..."

Goo shrugs again, voice softening a little as his posture softens with it.

"...and maybe if it works out well, we can gradually start moving on as well."

Now, Gun really had to think this through.

Gamble a little, in ways it would benefit him.

"Tch.... Fine, if you say so. We better hope that she'll listen to us when we try to apologize. I sincerely hope this idea of yours is worth our time..."

Gun relents, knowing that Goo can be quite persuasive at times anyway. He's still highly skeptical, but he trusts Goo and knows that he means well.

If it benefits himself as well of course.

"Alright..."

Goo utters out, falling back on the couch.

"Should we just then... travel to Busan first thing tomorrow and look for her in that same restaurant we met her all those years ago...?"

Gun nods, although still wary about the whole idea.

"Yeah, that's probably the best course of action. Let's take the first flight to Busan tomorrow and see if we can find her. If we're lucky, she might even be in that same restaurant we met her in all those years ago."

He pauses for a moment before continuing, an annoyed look on his face.

"But if it turns out your idea was shit, I will bury you somewhere.."

Tomorrow came faster than usual, perhaps to both their dismay. Neither of the really slept too much, the anxiety was keeping them up wide awake.

"My anxiety is so bad, I couldn't stop taking a shit every hour or so this morning..."

Goo and his usual TMI, accompanied by a huge yawn.

Gun rolls his eyes in annoyance at his excessive information about his bodily functions.

Why did he need to know that.

"Gross. Do you really need to share all that with me? I don't want to hear the details of your bathroom business."

His tone of voice is stern and serious, but the way he speaks suggests that he's not completely mad at him. He's actually a little bit amused by his friend's carefree nature, but he'd never admit it.

He also didn't understand why Joongoo had to wear such an obnoxious looking designer outfit either.

Proof that money can't buy style and taste.

He himself is still wearing the same old black outfit he is usually seen with, the man is nothing if not very consistent. He stares at the blonde's outfit for a bit...

Tacky.

Draws hell of a lot attention to themselves. More than Gun would like.

At first he doesn't say anything while walking down the street.

This man looks like he's going to a fashion show for rich people or something.

Then, he looks at Goo again and decides to break the silence.

"Are you seriously going through this whole ordeal wearing those gaudy clothes?"

He shakes his head in disbelief, his eyes scanning his flashy outfit.

"You look like a walking advertisement for bad taste, you know that?"

"I don't remember asking for your opinion!"

Goo retorts in a childish manner, the same verbal skirmish they usually engage in.

"Also, I need to look good just in case she kills us today. I refuse to die looking raggedy."

"Pfft, as if looking good is gonna save us from death...If she wants us dead, we're dead. And honestly, you'd still look pretty damn raggedy wearing those flashy clothes. They don't exactly scream 'good taste' to me."

"You just have zero taste!"

"Thank God, then."

Not long after arriving at the front of that same restaurant, and the same spot they got their asses whopped all those years ago is nothing more than haunting.

"I think I'm gonna shit myself..."

Goo mutters out with an uncomfortable scowl, earning a disgusted look from his partner.

"What the fuck."

"God, you're ridiculous. How old are you again?"

He mutters under his breath the same time as a loud, nervous gulp coming from his friend.

"Look, let's just get this over with. The faster we apologize, the faster we can get out of here. Even if it doesn't go well, at least we tried."

"... I think Imma throw up..."

Goo responds with some fake gagging noises, being overdramatic as usual.

Gun can't help but to roll his white irises under the sunglasses, and takes a firm hold of Goo's upper arm to drag him into the reception area of the restaurant.

Safe to say the receptionist recognized them in a heartbeat.

Who couldn't?

He gives them a double-take, then a triple take-

There is no such thing as a calm, peaceful day in the life of someone working such field.

Well, this is what he gets paid for so.. he just lets out a sigh.

He already knew what they wanted, they didn't even have to say anything. So, he leads them direrctly to her.

Of course she'd be here today of all days, it was almost like she knew they'd come.

"I think I just shit my pants..."

Comes the uncomfortable sounding mutter from the blonde, and Gun only rolls his eyes again.

What is it with him and his bowel movements today..

"Would you shut up? It's gonna be fine, stop worrying so much. At least wait until we actually speak to her first before you start shitting yourself."

Gun mutters back, equally as uncomfortable but trying to maintain his usual demeanor.

"You're not helping..."

Goo speaks from behind him again, sucking his teeth as they keep walking.

He didn't even bother to utter a response to that this time.

Arriving shortly after at that same table, they both stand with their backs straight. Everything feels the same as of yet, except that they could now feel her overwhelming presence from practically a few feet away, the waiter blocking their view as he talks to her, but they couldn't hear the conversation from the position they were standing in. Gun has an expression of neutrality right now, he refuses to acknowledge the tension and anxiety he's feeling deep down, he's trying to act as calm as he can right now, not like Goo who looked as pale as a ghost as they stood, waiting.

Once the man takes his leave, their brains shut down.

Not even going into just power saving mode, but turns off instead momentarily.

Is it because of how poised she looks?

A simple designer dress suited for the summer weather, heels on. Hair longer, face mixed with soft and sharp features, blended together perfectly. Tattoos adorning her skin, like her cleavage area and neck, different Japanese words, koi fishes and sakura flowers, black and red ink mostly. She sure has matured a lot, just like them.

Grey eyes as fierce as ever if not more when they both make eye contact with her.

The way she sat there was... humbling.

Like an actual Queen.

A ruler. Blessed.

Strong. Confident. Independent.

They feel...small.

Insignificant.

And she's just sitting there, radiating power and authority from every inch of her being.

"Sit down."

Finally, they're brought out from their reverie by her tone.

She sounded just the same... except a little deeper with a slight rasp, but it just made it all the more intimidating.

They can't shake the feeling that it sounded more like a command than an actual plea.

They almost involuntarily swallowed a lump in their throats before finally taking the first few steps, their eyes never leaving her figure as they move closer.

Gun, slowly walks up to her before stopping right beside her table, Goo following in a timid manner like a puppy.

"I... wanted go talk to you."

"He means we would like to speak with you... if you're okay with that-or we can just fuck off right away-!"

Goo begins, starting out with a pretty decent self assurance, but the more he yapped the more it kept going down the drain. Gun shoots Goo a glance that screams 'I will rip you a new one right here and right now if you don't shut up'. Goo doesn't take the hint and ends up being interrupted by her yet again, which really pisses Gun off.

"I said sit down."

This time, her tone is a bit sharper, and she's havig a harder time keeping her patience grounded.

It's safe to say Gun is visibly annoyed with his partner for making the situation even more awkward and bizarre than it already is. He was tempted to kick the blonde in the shins, but he resists the urge because he's trying to keep his cool right now.

At this point, he just decides to keep his mouth shut and take a seat, crossing his arms in front of his chest as Nova addresses the both of them again.

"Why are you here?"

Flat, unamused.

It's as if her having to even ask that question was bothersome and a waste of her time.

For a moment, they don't really make eye contact with her, refusing to meet her piercing gaze, since hers don't falter even for a moment.

It's almost af if they're a mere pawn in her presence. A small, fragile thing in the face of her strenght and dignity.

Gun, opens his mouth to speak.

Yet, his brain feels like it is filled with static, and he's absentmindedly clutcing against his own trousers by his thighs under the table.

For the first time in a while, he feels intimidated.

What feels like an eternity, he gulps, his voice coming out strained and hoarse.

"W-we know it's been a long time since we have seen each other. And what we did back then was completely unacceptable. We acted like ignorant, self-entitled assholes and we didn't think about how you must have felt."

He pauses to take a deep breath, looking at her in the eyes as he continues speaking, words coming out through gritted teeth.

"We would like to ask for your forgiveness."

There it was.

He said it, and feels like throwing up that second in his mouth.

The plea for such was a foreign concept to him. It tasted bitter and spikey in his mouth, almost like lemon.

The words echo out in the silence that follows, and Gun can feel the weight of them like a physical burden. It's as if he's just ripped our his soul and thrown it out in front of her, exposed and vulnerable.

Goo, beside him, looks as if he's about to faint at any moment. There's sweat beading on his forehead, and his face has gone completely pale, like he's just seen a ghost.

It was so embarrassing.

"Ask for forgiveness, huh?..”

She repeats his words, more as a mutter as her smile pulls at one corner of her lips momentarily, looking out of the window beside her, so very amused.

"I'm not God, who could cleanse you of each and every of your sins, be it ones you tainted my life with, or others'. This isn't the right place for such."

Her words flow bluntly, and with a certain tone of assertiveness.

"I wouldn't have expected the two of you to feel any sort of remorse for what had happened three years ago, since neither of you hesitated to try and break my wings, and confiscate them for yourselves. It makes me wonder... are you two really apologizing from the goodness of your hearts and done some self reflection, or just feel uncomfortable about the fact that both of you have been taken down with ease?"

Each word carries a weight that makes both of their stomachs churn, like a twisted dagger being jammed into their gut and slowly twisted.

Essentially, she's calling them out for being selfish narcissists.

It was as if she's reaching into their souls and holding up a mirror to themselves, a reflection of their own ugly, selfish nature.

Gun's gaze turns a bit confused, his expression shifting from neutral to taken aback slightly.

"You have every right to doubt us... But we are being sincere. We have... reflected on our actions, and came to realize just how awful we've been to you. It's no excuse, nor does it undo what we did."

"That's correct. It's a shame your actions are as bland as your personalities."

She lets out a bitter scoff, cutting into the chocolate cake placed by before her.

"If bravery had a face, it certainly wouldn't look like either of yours' right now. "

She points at both of them through muttered words with her fork, chewing on the sugary pastry with.

That... was definitely not on their bingo cards right now.

Not so much of the answer, but the bluntness wrapped around with venom her words carried.

Goo, looks completely taken aback. Looking around for a moment as if in a search for her audacity, while Gun just looks annoyed.

"Our... actions are bland..?"

He clenches his jaw, now feeling irritated.

"The fact that we are sitting here right now, apologizing to you is because we have the balls to do it. You have no idea how hard this is for us."

"Oh look at the two of you, attempting greatness..."

Her hands fly up gently in feigned shock and surprise, tone flat but laced with the thick undertone of sarcasm.

A second after, her hands fall to her side.

"Pity it's just an attempt. If ignorance was a virtue, you'd both be saints by now."

Keeps it plain as ever, tone emotionless as she goes back to her dessert.

"How about this? Let's operate with sense. It is clear neither of you have much, so we will use my own, okay?"

Hostility.

Gun can barely restrain himself, he looks like he's about to pop a blood vessel in his forehead.

Goo? Oh he has now, just checked out, he knows this is just a battle he cannot win.

"You.. since when do you talk to people like that? Do you have any idea how disrespectful you're being right now??"

His tone is terse, absolutely floored by what he's hearing.

It isn't more so of what she's saying, though safe to say her wit is unmatched.. it's just how she's talking to them.

And Gun, ain't nobody can talk to him such way.

Never could, never will.

"You have no right to talk to us like that, you hear me? You're being disrespectful, and you need to shut your damn mouth before I shut it for you."

The threat slips out before he can stop himself, his anger getting the better of him.

“Watch your tone when you're talking to me.”

And Gun, he freezes.

He, has never heard such authoritative words in his life.

Ever.

It cut through all his senses. Practically rumbled like the a stormy night sky.

That moment, he felt like he was standing before a temple.

Tall, resilient, and gorgeous.

And he was once again, floored.

It's like a bucket of ice cold water being dumped on his head, and suddenly he's realizing just how far over the line he's gone, and he immediately sits up right.

“…did I just straighten myself??”

The blonde next to him, he just zeroes out completely, yet cannot help the chills that fill his body under his clothes.

“You wanna talk about disrespect..?”

She asks, tone flat, gaze heavy.

They can feel their chests tighten, her larger than life presence commanding their full attention even when they can't bring themselves to look up at her.

“I've met scarecrows with more spine than you. Your with is as sharp as a butter knife, and watching the two of you trying to have an argument with me is like witnessing a dance of clumsiness and confusion. I have seen more formidable foes in a toddler's tantrum. Why is it so hard to realize that you two trying to keep communicating your feelings on the ridiculous of the endeavor I'm currently engaged in is nothing but futile?”

As she speaks, she keeps looking between the two like she was talking to two kids.

“Disrespect, eh? Who was the one again who went against my plea of leaving the city alone in the first place and never coming back? You two are the perfect example of how nature experiments with mistakes.”

That went so fucking hard.

Goo just cannot help himself, the surprised scoff of laughter erupts from his lips without any warning, quickly smacking his hand over his mouth.

Gun on the other hand, takes his sunglasses down with a quickness, eyes wide and in disbelief of what he's hearing.

Where is all this hostility coming from?

They cannot help but just stare at her in confusion, Goo's eyes involuntarily twitching through a pained smile.

"What the hell is your problem...”

Gun asks quietly, his voice low, and visibly taken aback.

Nova, just counts to 8, letting out a long sigh while doing so.

“A moment of silence, please, for these poor souls' intelligence... do you not get what I'm saying? An apology isn't needed because I really couldn't give less fucks right now about what happened in the past, and could you please tell your friend here to calm down a little? If he were to be any less threatening right now, he'd be a dandelion.”

The last part was mainly aimed towards Goo, who begins to blink quickly to try and calm his nerves. Not because he was angry, but embarrassed since he lacked the brains to come up with such lines. He was a little jealous, and annoyed he liked her even more now.

After a moment, Gun turns to give Goo a glance. He's able to tell that he's clearly embarrassed and annoyed by the whole situation, and he can't help but share the same feeling himself.

"Wow... we got our asses handed to us again, and we didn't even have to fight."

Goo thinks to himself, visibly zoned out now, while looking at nothing at particular on the table.

Gun knew that coming here was useless, and he turned out to be more than right. The embarrassment he felt was more than bearable.

He takes a deep breath, trying to keep his frustration under control. He knows that they came here expecting a completely different situation than this, and now they're just being talked down to like a bunch of teenagers.

It's not doing good things for his ego, that's for sure.

He looks back at Nova, trying to keep his tone neutral as he speaks again.

"So you don't want an apology, and you don't care about the past. What do you want then? What do we do to make it up to you?"

“Y'all want forgiveness? Fine, you're forgiven. You could both leave now, unless you would want to engage in a fight again, which would be more than just an anticlimax. Your skills are on par with a blindfolded chicken playing hopscotch, and there's no fun in that.”

Both of them remain silent as she continues to speak. Gun can practically feel the blood boiling within his veins, his irritation building up to unbearable levels, while Goo just looks completely defeated. He's already given up the moment she started speaking down to them again.

It's almost comical to watch her just repeatedly and ruthlessly humiliate them, using their own ignorance against them.

Their current situation was nothing more than absolutely diabolical. If it wasn't enough that they couldn't outsmart her during their previous fight, apparently the same could be said about actual smarts.

This woman was too smart for her own good, and their own. The whole time, her tone was razor sharp, blunt and to the point with a gaze most people would shy away from in just a second.

Then again, they both have eyes, and common sense, as much as they lacked of using it being so in the heat of the moment, they could both now notice clearly.

This wasn't the calm, collected, and kind person she once was. Her presence was nothing short of being on edge, tense as all hell, and an undeniable presence of fatigue in her eyes that neither of them could ignore.

Her entire demeanor has become almost cold and distant, her behavior almost the opposite of what she was years ago. There's a hint of melancholy as well, hidden within the sharpness of her silver eyes.

She changed completely.

Despite themselves, their gazes can't help but shift from her face to the tired look in her eyes. It's just so different from how she used to be, that it actually makes them feel a small pang of guilt in their chests.

Well, as much as they’re competent enough to do so.

"We're sorry."

Goo's apology comes out softer than intended, and with a swiftness that even caught Gun off guard.

He didn't understand, since they had already done their due diligence of apologizing, but he tried his best to trust his partner's judgment, letting him continue.

"We shouldn't have come... it's clear as day we disturbed your mental state even more with our presence and over the top behavior. You seem like you already have enough on your plate, we didn't want to add more into that."

Nova's expression shifts to a softer, more tired look as she listens to Goo speak. But then, confusion laces her features, a small frown appearing on her face.

“You have no idea what you're talking about or how I'm feeling. Stop trying to act like we're friends, I don't need you to feel bad for me either.”

Self defense. It was purely that.

Her tone might have been annoyed and distant, but the way her hand twitched, it was more than obvious they struck a cord in her.

From that, Gun can tell that Goo's words have somehow affected her. Maybe he was right, and it bothered her more than she's letting on.

He glances at Goo, giving him a subtle nod to signal him to continuе. Не wants to see if they can get through to her, even just a little bit.

"We would just like to get a small hint into why you're acting and feeling the way you are... a lot had to happen in the three years since we last met..."

Goo continues, almost surprised at how nice he's being all of a sudden.

There is a hint of discomfort in her eyes once she looks back at him. So desperate to try and shield her fury of emotions away, afraid to be vulnerable.

She lets out a sigh, putting her purse in her lap and rummage through it, popping a cigarette between her lips.

“I don't need a therapy session. Especially not by two wonder brats...”

Her exterior hardens once more, lighting her cigarette, and taking a long drag.

Gun leans back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest and giving her a steady gaze, trying to keep his annoyance under check. He keeps his tone even as he speaks.

"Maybe you don't need a therapy session, but we're just trying to understand. You've changed, and we want to know why."

“I don't think I owe you any manners or any explanation.”

She grumbles, letting the smoke flow from her lips, and blowing it out.

It's like she's intentionally being difficult just to piss him off.

He leans forward slightly, his gaze hardening as he speaks, his voice laced with a hint of anger.

"You don't owe us anything, that's true. But can't you just... try to talk to us? We're not trying to be difficult here, we're just concerned."

“That's funny.”

She responds with an empty gaze, butting the ashes into her empty wine glass.

“What do you know about being the rag of other people's sorrow?”

There it is.

As she says that, the empty gaze never subsides, putting the cigarette between her lips, she takes another drag while never taking her eyes off of him.

It's like she's dropped a bombshell on him, and they don’t quite understand what she means by it.

He glances at Goo, seeing the same confusion reflected on his face, before looking back at her. He speaks again, his tone softer this time.

"What do you mean by that? What do you mean by 'being the rag of other people's sorrow'?"

Both of them look at her through narrowed eyes, both of their gazes sharp and analyzing as they observe her behavior. She's clearly trying to brush off what they just found out, but it's not working very well.

“I’ve had enough of it.”

She starts out, propping her elbow on the table, eyes visibly softening as she rather stares out the window than to look at them.

“Being kind and all.”

Her eyes may have softened, but there's still a slight undertone of hostility in her voice.

Meanwhile, Goo can tell that she's feeling uncomfortable having those emotions being brought up again, and his expression softens, a hint of sympathy present beneath the concerned frown on his face.

“I wanted to help. From the positivity, the gratitude, from how hopeful and supportive people were, knowing there was someone who was willing to help, and wanted nothing in return.... I was happy, because people were also happy, no matter the morbid nature of it all.”

Goo's expression softens even more as he hears her words, his sympathy growing stronger. Gun's gaze remains on her, his expression stoic but listening intently.

He speaks up again, his tone almost matter-of-factly.

"People took advantage of you, didn't they?"

A small sigh leaves her lips, watching the bustling city outside. The city she raised from the dust while she takes another drag.

“You share secrets under the moonlight; those secrets become weapons against you. You cry in the candlelight, yet your tears can never extinguish the fiery rage of betrayal; and after the last drop of love is squeezed dry from your heart, they toss away your husk of a soul.”

She continues, puffing out one last cloud of smoke as she puts her cigarette out.

“I began to absolutely loathe, detest, revile, denounce my existence with a passion like a furnace... especially when I started to enjoy hurting people more than when I did it out the goodness of my own heart, with the intention to help. Sure, I still did help, but it also momentarily helped me too, to fill that gaping soul in my chest after my patience and kindness had ran thin... I choked on such longing I couldn't spit out. Yes... desire is so different when God bore you hungry.”

Both of the guys listen to her in silent shock, absorbing her every word. Her description of her own experience, her feelings and pain, it's incredibly raw and vulnerable. It's clear that whatever she's been through has left deep scars on her soul.

Yet again, unfortunately it was something unavoidable.

Goo finally speaks up, his tone gentle as he responds to her.

"No wonder you’re so on edge but also seem…a lot more resilient now."

And he meant what he said.

No wonder her sharp eyes are more cutting now. Like she has a 360° vision, yet still..

She still seemed like someone who couldn’t find her place again despite her reflecting on herself.

“Well, my patience has ran thin, and people fail to understand why. I no longer find peace and happiness when helping others. I became indifferent to others' gratitude.”

Her tone now becomes indifferent.

Acceptance. No matter how much kindness you offer, some people will always be selfish and evil individuals.

“... I don't even know who I am anymore...”

Her words are more than enough to further add even more complexity to her feelings, but solidifies Goo’s theory.

She was not only tired, she was also deeply craving for something, some type of satisfaction or relief, the way her eyes almost seem to burn with this strange craving. She's like a starving animal, desperate for something to satisfy her, and desperate to find her purpose again.

“Sometimes I wonder... I'm not sure whether I'm a good person or not anymore... But I hope I am good enough to be loved and appreciated.”

The glimmer of hope that appears in her eyes could be described almost pitiful.

Pitiful, that she had to get here to question her whole existence, and purpose in life.

“I want to be more than my ears...and the arms that offer comfort. More than my power and abilities...To be loved unreasonably, rather than for the fact that I listen when the rest of the world goes quiet, or throwing myself into pits of the danger and despair. I chose this life, I'm well aware... but it matters not how selfless you are when people would still rather continue to take more and more of you.”

Her words start to have a profound impact in both of them. An individual who has given and given, and only recently realized that she has given a bit too much to get nothing in return.

And the pain and longing in her eyes... both of them can see it clearly, and it seems to only get even more intense as she speaks. The depth of her feelings is almost palpable, and it's clear that she's been holding it in for a long time.

“I keep convincing myself I do not mind being the rag of other people's sorrow... Yet I find I am no longer durable, sinking in the mix of theirs and my grief. A source of therapeutic conversations, yet never unplanned ones. Talk to a friend, a real friend who truly knows my aspirations rather than my soothing words. Who truly knows the stones that fill my chest as I devour their rocks. Then them bubbling into a foam after a while, ceasing to exist in their minds."

She lets out a long sigh, playing with the dessert fork she has not long ago put down absentmindedly, and puts her cigarette out.

“Who am I if not threaded cloth, a person who heals while avoiding healing herself... As I remember the tears absorbed by an overgrown mold, consuming me till I am nothing more but a manmade stream, who flows towards an unfamiliar rage.”

This time, her tone is more strained, doing her damned best to stop the wave of emotions trying to break free and roll of her tongue, eyes unfocusing into nothing particular.

“What was I made for?.. Or rather am I made for something beyond inherited love. Something beyond the power I hold and the actions I take. If I really am slowly becoming what I try so hard to cleanse the world from? Can I be loved without being convenient?..”

And she whispers the last part, turning to them, catching despair flashing through her eyes.

“Even if I'm unsure whether I'm an actually good person to begin with?”

And both of them knew, in that moment, that they couldn't really give an answer to her.

Unfortunately, neither of them could understand that level of sacrifice.

Slowly becoming the exact same thing she loathed the most and tried to get rid of.

“It's hard to make up an answer... isn't it?”

She asks softly, a bitter smile painted her lips as she keeps her eyes trained on them both.

“I understand. Every time I try to do so myself, it feels like chasing a shadow… whenever I get hold of it, it slips through my fingers, until I’m left with nothing again.”

Was there even a right answer to give?

Who's to say what she's feeling isn't just a reflection of others'? Or their perception?

Was there even a satisfying answer to give her?

They couldn't. They haven't walked even a minute in her shoes.

It was all a hard pill to swallow.

So much was said, so much was shared they felt like they were drowning in her maelstrom of emotions.

They could never understand that level of self sacrifice, that was bordering on self sabotage as well.

Neither of them has ever been in a situation like this before, where they couldn't find any words to say in the face of that level of vulnerability and pain. And it's a difficult realization to bear, knowing that their perspectives and experiences fall short of truly understanding what she's going through.

What more was there to even left to say? They came here to apologize, yet in the end, they got more than they bargained for.

Eventually, she lets out a long sigh.

“Before I go, thank you... for taking the time out of your days to come see me personally and apologize. I accept it... but regarding the two of you asking for forgiveness...”

The corners of her lips pull back slightly, sucking in her teeth as she places the fork down she unintentionally bent a little between her hands.

“You can't undo the pain you brought to others. In order to find peace in yourself and the situation, is to eventually forgive the cruelty that no longer resides within, and to accept the fact that they may always see that inhumanity in you... and it is in their every right to never forgive.”

Once she speaks again, they both can feel the meaning behind those words, and the gravity of what she's saying. They might have come here to apologize, but her response is more than well- earned.

She doesn't forgive them.

Gun and Goo both remain silent, their gazes respectfully cast down to the ground. They don't know what to say, but they can respect her decision.

Was that really it?

They still had so many unanswered questions left.

What's her backstory? How did she get so strong? What's her limit? What did she display back then?

Are they friends of allies? If not, will she seek vengeance against them once in the future?

Perhaps it's better to stay with curious sometimes. She's clearly in a vulnerable position, and would rather be elsewhere than here.

They both watch her slowly stand up, patting down her dress to flatten the wrinkles out, purse in one hand.

She hums softly, glancing at them both.

“But thank you. You made me realize it's time for me to re-evaluate my life decisions.”

A soft smile is the only thing she can give them, for now.

“And you two… take your own paths in life. Don’t let yourselves be used by others, even if it seems like there is no choice. There always is.”

She says softly, signing the bill after she pays.

“Regarding our fight and the defeat the two of you experienced..”

Her eyes sharpen slightly, a smile of someone like a Goddess paints her features, and they brace themselves.

“You have been praying so long for the strength to outlive the pain your past inflicted on you, that you have forgotten- you are already strong. That heart of yours was crafted from the same clay as that of Achilles, last true warrior on the sands of Troy, fighting a war that was years long. Do you think Achilles wept over the fates of the lesser warriors who tried and failed to slaughter him? Do you think you should lose sleep over the lesser people who tried to drown you in sorrow and hoped you couldn't swim? Listen to your heart. You have seen crueler battlefields than this. If you were so resilient through them, then you know in your heart, you will survive this.”

Now that.. was a speech.

“So long boys... we might meet again. Perhaps as foes or enemies, I'll let faith make that decision.”

And with that, they can only watch her retreating form, the clicking of her heels growing softer and softer, until she disappears from their vision.

Her words only further the impact, and both of them can't help but see their own journey and hers in a new light...

A star that has finally grown tired of burning up with no one to notice it... now preparing to transform into a collapsed, black hole, in the hopes of becoming something greater.

Everything that they learned, all of her feelings and confessions... the complexity of her circumstances and background, the way she spoke about her life, the pain that she's been through, the emotions that she's been keeping hidden and bottled up for her whole life...

They had gone into this meeting expecting a simple apology and an explanation. Instead, they had gotten much more than they bargained for. Her words had touched on something deeply profound, something that they were both still trying to fully understand.

Finally, Gun breaks the silence, his voice contemplative.

"That was... a lot to take in."

"Right... And I couldn't even confess to her."

Of course Jongoo comes with his usual idioticy, making Gun's head fall on the table, forehead down with a thud, letting out a loud sigh.

"Are you serious..? That's all you've got to say after all that?"

He lifts his head up and shoots Goo a sidelong glare, his eyes tired and incredulous.

"Well, as she said, we might meet again either way, so I'm still somewhat hopeful."

Gun lets out an exasperated sigh, shaking his head slightly.

"...I swear down on my nans grave, one day I will fold you up like a paper plane, and throw you into outer space."

"...you're so abusive."

“And you’re insufferable. A match made in hell.”

[angelltheninth]

Hi!!! I hope you're doing well.

I hope this isn't an inconvenience, but can you do fluffy Tsu'tey headcanons? Please? I love the man more than life❤❤

Please and thank you.🙇🏼‍♀️

I love them grumpy too. Cause they always have a hidden soft spot.

Pairing: Tsu'Tey x Human Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, protectiveness, first meeting, height differance, growling, tail shenanigans, cheek kiss, developing feelings, human!Reader

A/N: Haven't written for Avatar in a bit but I'm really looking forward to the next movie, it looks interesting.

Judged you from the moment he saw you, a human reasercher so deep in the forest, alone

By the looks of it you didn't have many ways to protect yourself, just one gun

Not even a mate by your side, not that he can smell one on you either

Tsu'tey is not a gentleman by any means but he isn't pointlessly cruel either

He likes to think he's a good fit for a future leader, he can even lead a human woman back to her camp

What annoys him the most is your constant questions about the animals and plants

Anwsers most of them with one word or a groan at how dumb the question is

Growls at the dangerous animals, putting himself between them and you

You're tiny and fragile, the perfect snack to many hunter animals here

The best way to keep you safe is to keep you close

Wraps his tail around your hips but warns you that if you touch it he will leave you here

Once you're close enough to your camp base he let you go off alone, not wanting to get too close as the tensions are still high

Leaned down to give you a warning against getting lost again but didn't expect a kiss as thanks for helping you

Hisses at you again for kissing him but he is careful when pulling away

Should you see each other again hopefully it isn't under the same circumstances

[earthtokhal]

I would very much like him to come back. To finish the story the way he wanted to. A secure drive in the Sauber for next year. Security, something he wasn't afforded for almost 3 years.

We all knew he didn't want the Vcarb seat next year. We knew his goal, and if he couldn't reach it, we all knew that there was a chance he wouldn't stay.

We also knew that HE didn't entertain other offers. Not the Haas in 2022, not the Mercedes reserve role and not the supposed Audi/William seats this year. He trusted them so incredibly with the twilight of his career, and to be completely honest, so did I.

We knew better. We knew how ruthless they were, we saw that episode in DTS of Horner telling Pierre to perform because it's what his friend didn't get a chance to do. We saw what happened with Kvyat, Alex, Gasly and Nyck.

But this was Daniel. A man they never wanted to leave, a man who had been so fundamental to the history of their team despite not being given a championship car.

This was Daniel, whose relationship with Horner and Max and Marko extended outside the confines of the cockpit, paddock and Milton Keynes.

This was their prodigal son. A title THEY gave him.

I do not believe for a moment that he knew on Thursday or Friday what was happening, because we've seen him in those last few months with Mclaren, we know how he looks, how he reacts when he knows it could be over. We also know that he wanted his family there.

And to be honest, I haven't been doom and gloom from yesterday, and I've been surprisingly hopeful about whatever his future holds for him but that race article, man that's a punch straight to my gut and then watching that video where he slowly and alone enters the pit lane.

How did they show more respect to a boy who they pushed aside and took Nyck instead than they did for their multiple grand Prix winner who gave them the only good PR since last year.

I've read a few different versions, and in most of them, they say Christian still backed him, but Christian may have still wanted him, but he didn't protect him. He could have given Daniel some warning. It feels like Max is the only one who tried to in the media. It feels like Horner likes him best when he's dependent on Horner.

No amount of good words written in an Instagram post would change the fact that Horner could have told him because on Thursday Daniel though he was going to be there next year too.

To have to come to terms with the fact that something you've given your whole life to was suddenly being taken away from you in a matter of a few hours must have been devastating and still he smiled.

They wanted to push him in a corner. That is my opinion. They wanted to give him no option but to wait for their decision. They wanted to test Liam against Yuki and then decide whether or not to revert back to Daniel.

No amount of inconsistency or performance bullshit makes sense. Daniel was not inconsistent. He has the better race pace /race finish average result to Yuki, and the car isn't a points car right now. I'd argue it barely was at the beginning of the year, too, and Yuki benefited from some incredible luck. One driver washed and sent into premature retirement, and the other having his best season yet... and they've been mostly equal.

Legends of the sport, from those on the grid to those retired all have spoken so highly of him. They all knee and know his capabilities, that won't change no matter or many people on social media try to rewrite his history.

They wanted him to take their scraps with open hands. To stick around in case they needed him, and he most likely said no. After whatever happened in Spa, I would think he wanted some sort of proper, legally binding confirmation, and that must have been the rumored demands he was making.

The fact that Lawson was there, hovering over him. The fact that Daniel went there to perform and he wasn't even given the proper opportunities to do so.

But there will always be a Daniel Ricciardo sized whole in Red Bull, and unfortunately for any junior driver coming up, there's now also one in Vcarb. The downfall is going to be absolutely spectacular to watch, and quite frankly, I don't care who goes down with the sinking ship.

They were losing nothing. They could have given him those 6 races. They could have also announced it early on. But they chose to do none of it.

I also do not know how CAA let him down so incredibly badly after whatever happened in Mclaren. And I talking not only this weekend but the entire year when they all were allowed to talk about his lack of performance that he wasn't even lacking.

The sponsorships, too, I'm pretty sure they were promised a big name in a sister team. It's now a junior team, and there's no big name. So I hope they move along swiftly and let them feel th brunt of their decisions

Who actually makes the decisions anymore? Because I thought as long as Horner was captaining this ship, Daniel would be okay. But there's too many helmsman changing the course.

Every single news site who hounded him writing beautiful messages for him and go to hell too. They made his last weekend horrible.

I do not care for the people who only looked at resulrs in the end and wrote him off. The team should have known better.. They would have seen the data. He believed they would. He said that they would because points aren't everything.

If he does choose the ambassador role, I hope it's a page out of Jensons book and goes the route of choosing a team he never raced for. I want it to be Mercedes. Lewis is leaving, they need a big name. That is the team he should endorse.

I just wish we'd known, he'd known. Things would have played out differently. It still wouldn't be fair, but at least we'd have known we were watching him for possibly the last time. I would have probably watched alone, hyperfixated on his race like I was in Abu Dhabi 2022.

I wish the sport actually truly gave him the second chance he deserved.

I wish you'd come back, Danny Ric, but I won't blame you if you never do. You deserved better.

Wherever you go next, may it be the most successful adventure you've ever embarked on.

[syndrossi]

resonant ch28 dvd commentary

Favorite line(s):

Daemon cradled him to his chest, rocking him as though doing so might take them back to his first moments of life, fresh from the womb and bellowing fury at the world. I was not there for his first breath. I cannot live to see his last.

Sobbed like an absolute mess writing Jon's death, but especially this part. Daemon already has so much bottled-up grief and regret over missing their childhood and infancy, there's something absolutely gutting about him rocking Jon in his arms, like the baby he never held, trying to coax life back into him, this twisted parallel to holding a stillborn child, life snuffed too soon.

And the despair at living to see that moment, at wanting to die before seeing it. (Only to "realize" later that the only way either of them could have died alone like that would have been if he weren't there to protect them.)

Favorite detail(s):

Probably all the hidden meaning and hints/clues scattered throughout the vision? I haven't seen anyone pick up on the bigger (in terms of revelatory rather than being obvious) ones yet, but they're there to read back over later and be like "ohhhh." Or to reread and see if you can tease them out!

One thing I thought about a lot, and wanted to remain consistent about, was the limitations of whoever is sending the visions. The only things they have "seen" is Jon and Rhaegar's deaths, though it's unclear how. (Did the candle extract them from Jon's nightmares? Did the sorcerers peer into their possible futures before stealing them away?)

So that means Baelon's and Aemon's deaths were not visions they could have constructed, they had to have come from somewhere else. Daemon was there for Baelon's death, so it's easy enough to recreate that from his memory. But where did Aemon's death come from? That's sort of the linchpin, if Daemon ever fully remembers the visions. Showing him his father's death doesn't mean Jon's and Rhaegar's deaths were anything other than illusions meant to manipulate him. But the details of Aemon's death felt very vivid, very accurate--if Daemon were to confirm that, he might be forced to accept the other visions.

(So...where did Aemon's death vision come from?)

Uuugh there's so much I want to talk about with the visions and the stuff just before/after the visions, but it risks getting spoilery. Best I can do is suggest that people read and reread the candle's/warlock's/sorcerer's words.

Favorite dynamic:

Oh no, this is hard to pick. I actually loved writing the first scene with Daemon and Viserys. The whole: "Am I one of your problems?" "Do you know how to be anything but?" exchange was another favorite of mine for its breathtaking sharpness, and Viserys's immediate regret afterward. Ironically, I thought that this scene might be one to soften people a bit toward Viserys, but the candle has worked its spell quite well, with most taking the candle's side on the matter.

Viserys is, on the surface, someone constantly getting in his own way, barely more than competent at his job on a good day, and he doesn't have many good days anymore. And he's trying to juggle the mess of the family politics/division on top of everything else, including the Volantis wrinkle and sudden prophecy children + uncertainty over what to do there other than hope Daemon can make more, preferably girls.

He seems like the architect of his own loneliness and isolation, but it's not just him. You have spiders like Otto who benefit from him being isolated and encourage it. Would Otto prefer that Viserys show obvious favoritism towards Aegon? Sure, it would help his case. But his hands-off approach means that Otto can mold Aegon and Aemond to the future he wants.

And then there's the chronic, pervasive pain and fatigue which sap his strength/will and make it easier not to fight. To not steel himself for the conflict of a family supper and instead take the dreamwine so that he can stop hurting for the day. When he's not drinking dreamwine, he's drinking wine, which has a similar numbing effect.

The greatest irony is that in this scene, we get Viserys entrusting various responsibilities to Daemon, a gesture that actually means something. He's letting Daemon choose tutors (usually the queen's job) and he's letting him lead the candle investigation (usually something he'd probably let Otto do). They're fumbling toward an understanding, with Daemon recognizing his loneliness and attempts at connection, and Viserys choosing to trust Daemon--

And then the candle sidles in, determined to nip that in the bud.

Runner up dynamic is the dynamic duo of the twins at the very end, triaging Daemon and prescribing immediate cuddles and a lullaby. Rhaegar is more accustomed to a despairing, inconsolable parent, so he's able to take the lead here. He's also uninjured, so he can be a little more acrobatic than poor Jon.

Quick hitters:

We get a softer, older version of the cut HOTD scene where Daemon tries to convince Viserys to fly off with him on adventures/conquest. Daemon these days just longs for connection with his brother, so it's the Giant's Toe he offers instead as a refuge, with its childhood memories.

Jon is SO GRUMPY that Daemon left them with two Kingsguard to prevent escape. And the Cargyll brothers, no less, who are the most vigilant to shenanigans!

Another runner-up fave line(s) that made me chortle writing them: "Tiresome could mean many things. Merely contemplating Lord Reyne’s existence, much less interacting with him, was tiresome."

It's clear that Daemon's more than a little entranced even before the candle lights up, which is similar to how Rhaegar can get when he's "hearing" it.

This little gut-punch from @cloud-harasser's ao3 comment: "I also love how Daemon carries a piece of Aemon with himself always and feels him everyday in a way when he does his braids. I bet seeing Daemon on Caraxes with his braided hair haunts Rhaenys when the light is just right."

The death that Daemon is least affected by is Baelon's, which is mostly because he was there for it, and it was slow and drawn-out. He had time to prepare and even make his peace with it. He never got that closure with Aemon.

Aemon promising to help Daemon find a dragon when he returned. Only his body came back, and Daemon got Caraxes, so he did fulfill his promise in a way that Daemon never would have wanted.

Daemon's best internal sense of the vision is that he died early, some possible rebellion rose that resulted in Jon's exile and Rhaegar later fighting in it. Their dragons were either taken from them or lost early.

If the twins were overprotective of Daemon before, we are about to see them take it to new heights...