#lets make the rest of the world inhospitable

[blurred-cat]

tbh i am about to sound like a real tinfoil hat goober right now but i have a real conspiracy theory: a lot of the conservative "value" (see: homophobia) pushing onto countries like uganda and nigera and etc. is because if those countries became safe havens for Queer people all the goddamn queer black people in america would probably just LEAVE

[mimimarvelingmarvel]

time bound part two

pairing: worst wolverine!logan howlett x f!mutant!reader

Part Two - Masterlist

summary: Y/n’s life takes a dramatic turn when the Time Variance Authority intervenes, pulling her from a critical moment in her timeline. The TVA sends her to the void where she eventually meets with Deadpool and a very familiar face. With Deadpool's universe in the balance, alongside his reluctant would-be pal, Wolverine, and the enigmatic time-bending mutant known as the Veil, the trio must complete the mission and save Deadpool’s world from an existential threat.

overall warnings: 18+, Fem!Reader, AFAB Reader, Use of Y/N, Her X-Men name is Veil, She/her pronouns, Swearing, Angst, Heavy Violence, Character Death, Deadpool (he’s his own warning), Hurt, Fluff, Angst, Eventual Smut, Slow Burn, TVA

word count: 1.9k

Months have passed since Johnny and I first crossed paths in the bleak void of the multiverse. In that time, the Borderlands have evolved from a chaotic, unsettling expanse into a strange but surprisingly reliable haven. I've acclimated to its disjointed blend of makeshift settlements and the diverse, often eccentric band of misfits who call it home. One of them is Laura, a fierce warrior with a rough edge, but a surprising softness beneath her surface. She once tried to explain the nature of my variant in her universe, but when she mentioned Logan, it struck a nerve too deep for me to handle. 

Today, Johnny and I are on a reconnaissance mission near the heart of the void, tasked with scouting for any unusual movements. We trudge through the arid expanse, our boots crunching softly over the dry, sandy terrain. The sky is a turbulent mix of colors, the horizon a jagged line of shifting shadows and light. Alioth.

The constant strain of maintaining control over my powers in this inhospitable space is wearing me thin. I can’t afford to let my guard down. We push through a small sandstorm that sweeps across the landscape, its gritty particles stinging my skin. I keep my eyes sharp and my hand resting on the hilt of my blade—a gift from Electra, a gesture of trust and camaraderie.

The oppressive quiet is almost a physical presence, the weight of isolation pressing down on me. We are about to turn back when a sudden disturbance breaks through the stillness. My heart skips a beat as the faint sounds of a skirmish reach my ears. Johnny’s hand clamps firmly on my arm, his grip conveying urgency.

“Did you hear that?” he growls, his voice low and taut with focus.

“Yeah,” I reply, straining to discern the sounds amidst the howling wind. The unmistakable clang of metal and the harsh grunts of a fight grow louder. “Let’s check it out.”

We advance cautiously, our footsteps muffled by the shifting sands, moving toward the source of the commotion. As we approach a tall, metal structure, I begin to climb it, Johnny following to gain a better vantage point. The structure, a rusted remnant of some long-forgotten machinery, creaks under our weight. From the top, the view unfolds before me, and what I see makes my breath catch in my throat.

Two figures are locked in combat below us, their movements a blur of speed and violence. The first is a Deadpool variant, clad in a distinctive black-and-red suit. He’s wielding a pair of katanas with an expert’s precision, slicing through the air with practiced ease. His opponent is unmistakably Wolverine, his adamantium claws extended and gleaming with a deadly sheen. Logan moves with a predator's grace, slashing and dodging with equal skill.

At first, I can hardly believe my eyes. A Wolverine—how could one of his variants be here? My mind races, struggling to reconcile this unexpected sight with everything I know. The scene is almost surreal, like a twisted mirror reflecting a reality I can barely grasp. I glance at Johnny, whose expression has turned serious, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

“Is that…?” I start, my voice trailing off, unable to articulate the confusion swirling in my mind.

“Yeah,” Johnny confirms, his tone grim. “Looks like we’ve got some serious anomalies here. We need to find out what’s going on.”

I watch as Deadpool and Wolverine continue their fierce exchange, their movements a violent dance. Deadpool’s agile maneuvers and rapid strikes are met with Logan’s relentless aggression. Despite the chaos, there’s a strange familiarity in their fighting styles—both driven by an intensity that makes them almost mirror images of each other.

“What the hell is going on?” I mutter under my breath, my mind reeling from the disorienting sight.

Johnny’s eyes remain sharp as he observes the conflict below. “We need to intervene. This could spiral out of control, and Cassandra could notice.”

Before I can respond, Johnny is already moving, his voice ringing out with authority as he shouts to the combatants. “Hey! We fight each other, we lose.”

The two fighters momentarily pause, their heads turning toward Johnny as he approaches. Deadpool’s head tilts, his mask concealing any visible expression, but his posture suggests surprise. “Dear god, it’s him.” His voice carries a mix of awe and disbelief. I watch cautiously from above, hesitant to step in, my heart pounding at the sight of Wolverine. He looks so much like my own Logan that the resemblance is almost painful.

Deadpool’s voice rings out with an irreverent edge. “Fair warning, gorgeous. You’re going to encounter some indelicate language. A smidge of ass play, but we’ve been prohibited from using cocaine on camera.”

Johnny, unfazed, urges me to move. “Veil, let’s go.” He turns to address me directly, his tone focused and commanding.

Logan’s head whips up, his eyes locking onto me with a mixture of suspicion and recognition. “Y/N?”

I jump down cautiously, my heart in my throat as I watch Logan tense, his claws extending in readiness. I land, a knee on the ground.

“Now that’s a superhero landing!”

“Who the fuck are you?” Logan demands, his voice a harsh growl, the tension palpable.

Deadpool’s eyes widen in realization. “Buddy, I think that’s—”

“Shut the fuck up. I didn’t ask you.”

In that moment, I see it—the familiar huff of his breath, the furrow of his brows, and the flare of his nostrils. I’d recognize my Logan anywhere. His eyes flicker with something unspoken, a mixture of relief and anguish, and his claws slowly retract.

I step closer, my breath catching in my throat. I can barely hold back the tears as I take another step and break into a small run. Logan meets me halfway, his arms enveloping me in a tight embrace. “I thought you died,” he says, his voice choked with emotion as he buries his face into my neck. I squeeze him tightly, my tears mingling with his.

“The TVA, they sent me away. I tried to find you.” I pause, my voice faltering with the weight of unspoken pain. “The others?” I ask, my eyes searching his for answers. He shakes his head, and my face crumples in grief. I had feared this would happen.

Johnny’s voice cuts through the moment, sharp with urgency. “They’re coming.”

I pull away from Logan at Johnny’s warning, my heart pounding as I steel myself. Logan’s face is a mask of pain, and I feel the crushing weight of my failure. I could have saved them all.

Deadpool’s voice interjects with a mix of confusion and curiosity. “Who’s they?”

The answer comes in the form of an onslaught of vehicles, their jumbled piles of mechanics and scrap metal creating a menacing approach. Toad, Pyro, and Sabertooth are among those heading our way, their presence a foreboding sign of trouble.

Deadpool sidles up beside me, his tone laced with a twisted humor. “Oh, they’re driving angry. Can we pick this reunion up later, pumpkin?” He glances at me, then at Logan, who mirrors my confusion.

Johnny steps forward, his posture exuding determination. “I got this.”

I steady myself, preparing for the impending fight. “Stay close,” Johnny warns, and I move closer to him, readying myself for whatever comes next. Behind me, I hear Logan release his claws, the familiar sound providing a strange comfort amidst the chaos.

The cars circle us, forming a tight encirclement. “Cassandra is going to be giddy when she sees what we caught. You can’t run. Everybody knows that.” Pyro’s voice drips with malice as their vehicles come to a halt.

“You see anyone running, dick for brains? You’re not gonna love what happens next,” Johnny retorts.

Deadpool’s voice breaks in with manic excitement. “Oh, oh my God. Oh my God, he’s going to say it. Ha! Oh my God, he’s gonna say it!”

Johnny grins, preparing for his signature move. “Avengers—”

“—Flame on!” 

“What?”

I look at Deadpool with a mix of bewilderment and exasperation as Johnny ignites in a ball of fire. Pyro watches, amused and relaxed. I create a temporal clone in the sky, urging it to engage as I manipulate time, freezing the action momentarily. As I resume time, Pyro defeats Johnny’s clone with a burst of flames. The real Johnny lands beside me.

“I know you,” growls a voice from ahead, and I turn to see Sabertooth approaching with a predatory glare.

Deadpool’s voice is a mix of awe and irreverence. “Holy shit… Sabertooth… your brother.”

I snap at him. “Deadpool, can it.”

Sabertooth snarls, his voice a deep rumble. “Ready to die!”

Logan prepares to fight, his stance resolute. Deadpool adds with exaggerated seriousness, “Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait! Time! People have waited decades for this fight. It’s not gonna be easy. Maybe not. Shoot the double and take him down. Side control, then full mount and you ground and pound, until he makes no sound because he’s dead.” He’s gripping Logan’s shoulders.

Wolverine’s expression hardens. “Shut the fuck up.”

Deadpool responds with a mix of arousal and admiration. “Oh my God. Okay, good luck. I’m a huge fan.”

The battle erupts with a ferocity that is almost immediate. Logan’s claws flash with deadly precision, and he swiftly decapitates Sabertooth. The severed head skids to a stop in front of Deadpool, who remarks with a grim humor, “What is it, girl? Is there trouble at the well?” It stops at his feet. “Oh, big trouble.” As Deadpool leans down and picks up Sabertooth’s severed head, I can’t help but grimace at the gory mess. Blood drips onto the sand, and Deadpool’s voice rings out with a bizarre sense of theatricality. 

“Behold! The head of your precious queen, Furiosa!” Deadpool announces dramatically, holding the head aloft like a trophy. “I have the Wolverine. I alone control her. You come for me! You come for her!” He points accusingly at Logan. I furrow my brows in confusion. “I’m so sorry. I know it’s pronounced ‘him.’ I’m gender blind. It’s my cross to bear,” he adds with a wink, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Logan, breathing heavily from the intense battle, turns to me. “Who’s next?”

“Toad! You’re up!” Pyro’s voice cuts through the chaos, and I can’t help but let out a mischievous giggle. I watch with amusement as Toad sticks out his grotesque, warty tongue. I pull out my blade, my eyes narrowed in focus. With a quick, precise motion, I slice through the air, severing the tongue cleanly. It falls to the ground with a wet, squishy plop.

“Fucking nasty,” I mutter as the severed tongue writhes like a headless worm. The sight is both disgusting and oddly fascinating. Toad lets out a high-pitched scream of anguish, and as the chaos escalates, someone flips a switch. I turn just in time to see Logan hurtling towards me, and I brace myself. 

Before I can react, Deadpool appears behind me, and the next thing I know, we’re all smashed together against a massive magnet. The force of the impact slams us into a heap, and I feel myself being crushed between Deadpool and Logan.

“Uh-oh. Holy shi—” Deadpool starts to exclaim before the sound is abruptly cut off. 

The giant magnet presses down hard, and I feel a wave of darkness engulf me. The last thing I hear is Johnny’s distant shout, filled with frustration and concern.

Next Part

A/N: Let me know what you think! I’m sort of loving and hating my writing, next part will be Logan’s POV (maybe)

[madwomansapologist]

being pampered by shan yu would include

Masterlist | Rules | Taglist | Library | More Prisoner/Bride AU | AO3

synopsis: It was a surprise that you were able to spend so long at camp without getting sick. Freezing rains, sun that seems to multiply with each passing hour, inhospitable nights. It was a matter of time before your health couldn't handle it. But Shan Yu will always be there to support you. Ever.

warnings: sickness (nothing serious). hurt/comfort. in this house we hate the misogynist version of Shan Yu in Mulan (2020). female!reader. baddass!reader. kidnapping.

• At night you kept on tossing and turning in your sleep. You spent more time trying to find a comfortable position than sleeping. During the day your energy was minimal, and there were several times when you decided to leave your horse with the caretakers and continue your journey inside the carriage.

• Shan Yu did notice that something was wrong. You letting him ride alone, thinking loudly at night, talking less and less. During your economics classes, you didn't understand the content. In meetings with the Hun leaders, you did not interfere. During dinner, you turned the food around on your plate, thinking no one would notice.

• But of course Shan Yu noticed. Shan Yu would never ignore anything about you. Not the way your eyes didn't wrinkle when you smiled. Or how your laugh started to cease so fast. Not even how your gaze, something that always seemed to burn, got so pale.

• Its not been long since he recovered from the illness. Shan Yu remember the pain, the coldness, the lonely feeling of falling down. Then everything turned black. And when Shan Yu woke up, he had you on his arms. He will never forget that.

• Shan Yu will never forget how you hold him close. As if he would run away from you if he had the chance. Shan Yu will never forget the natural way you confessed your love. How your words came as sweet whispers, how your eyes glared at him with passion, how you asked him to not break your heart. He would never do such a thing.

• He swore to protect and care for you the day he first saw you, and that night Shan Yu swore to never dissapoint you. To never make you regret giving him your heart. To never make you feel anything but completely, perfectly, incandescently happy.

• And for sure you weren't feeling like that lately. And that was his problem to solve.

• Shan Yu hunt on your name. The largest animals, with the tastiest meat and warmest skins. Only the best for his empress. The elders were ordered to make the best teas and bath oils for your health. He is a man of actions, not words. To say he pray for your health don't change a damn thing, but to actively fight for it... this is more Shan Yu's style.

• And he asked — demanded — you to stay inside the carriage. No classes, no meeting, no problems that you decided you were the one that should fix. And sadly this include not riding beside him. If you can't rest at night, than you better stay at bed all the time you can.

• He will take care of everything. You don't need to move a inch of your body. It's his duty to care for you. Shan Yu will make sure that you eat, that you have your favorite books with you, that your bath is at the perfect temperature.

• If you're coughing, Shan Yu will be there with a cup of water for you. If you finally can sleep, Shan Yu will be the one closing the curtains. If your eyes can't focus on the letters from your book, Shan Yu will read out loud for you.

• It's his duty, but that does not mean Shan Yu don't get any pleasure for treating you like that. Everytime you let him take control, that you trust him, that you let him be near you: it is like a dream come true. For months he tried to win your heart, and now he finally have it. He wouldn't trade it for anything else in the world.

Shan Yu's light sleep meant he always knew when your throat wouldn't let you rest. When he opened his eyes he saw you sitting on your bed, pulling the sweaty sheets away from your boiling skin, your body shaking from the incessant coughing.

“It’s okay,” you said between coughs. The moon illuminated your body, Shan Yu could see how shaken you were from being unable to rest for long enough. "Go back to sleep. I'm fine."

And before he could say anything, a strong crisis took over his body. Shan Yu stood up, approaching your bed, and filled a glass with water for you. You couldn't held it, so he placed the glass against your lips and helped you drink it.

You held his hand, eyes closed as you drank the water. Such a simple gesture, just your fingers on his, but it made Shan Yu's heart race. You looked away from the glass, eyes staring at something on the bed, but you didn't stop touching him.

"I feel so lonely", you murmured. Your fingers caressed his. "Lay with me."

Shan Yu held your hand, stroking your fine skin. He ran his nail down your fingers, along the lines in your palm, over the tips of your nails. Then he kissed your knuckles. One by one, Shan Yu kissed them.

"Of course, my moon." He kissed each of her fingers. A man as big as Shan Yu treating you with such care would never stop being a novelty. "Anything you want."

He sat in the empty space on the bed, and reclined against your pillows. They smelled just like you. Shan Yu stretched out one of his arms, inviting you.

Slowly, you lay on his chest. As you breath in, you got yourself comfortable. You intertwined his leg with yours, hugged Shan Yu's belly, curled up against his body. Shan Yu hugged you carefully, and spent the night stroking your back with his fingertips.

That night, you slept.

• Shan Yu has your heart, just as you have his.

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[silksufjan]

songs from The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We as aftg characters

Bug Like An Angel: Wymack (‘did you go and make promises you can’t keep/well when you break them they break you right back’)

Buffalo Replaced: Renee (‘i have a hope and though she’s blind with no name/she shits where she’s supposed to, feeds herself while i’m away’)

Heaven: Nicky (‘as i sip on the rest of the coffee you left/a kiss left of you/heaven’)

I Don’t Like My Mind: Aaron (‘i don’t like my mind, i don’t like being left alone in a room/with all its opinions about the things that i’ve done’)

The Deal: Andrew (‘there's a deal you can make on a midnight walk alone/look around, listen close, hear it fall from above/it will ask what you'd give and what you'd take for it in return’)

When Memories Snow: Matt (‘when memories snow/and cover up the driveway/i shovel all those memories/clear the path to drive to the store’)

My Love Mine All Mine: Neil (‘nothing in this world belongs to me but my love, mine all mine/my baby here on earth, showed me what my heart is worth’)

The Frost: Jean (‘you’re my best friend/now i have no one to tell/how i lost my best friend’)

Star: Allison (‘i’m yours no matter/that love’s gone/we just see it shining/we’ve traveled very far/i’ll keep a leftover light burning)

I’m Your Man: Kevin (‘people always gave me love/others were never to blame after all’)

I Love Me After You: Dan (‘stride through the house naked/don’t care that the curtains are open/let the darkness see me… i’m king of all the land’)

[miscellaneoussmp]

Okay okay so, this was supposed to be written tomorrow, but I can't control myself. Anyways, here's Forever finding The Eggs in The Nether (Edit: This fic was made before January 5th 2024.):

Maybe, just maybe, he should have thought about this a little more. There isn't much room for argument when the kids are involved, Forever thinks. He's doing the right thing, even if that means going to hell and back. Literally. The Nether is as scary and inhospitable as it always is. Only creatures forged in its lava pools, and those who are brave (or dumb) enough settle here. That's why Forever was surprised upon seeing what looked like a house built into a netherrack wall. It took him a moment longer than he'd like to admit to realize it was a safe house of some type. It probably had supplies. If not, it would be a good place to rest and actually figure out what he was doing.

The stone button near the iron door was harder to press down than it typically should be. This building is pretty old. That's why Forever really didn't expect a sword, soon joined by two others, to be pointed at his chest. His vision followed up the swords to see who what was wielding them. Pomme stood in the middle, and on either side of her stood Dapper and Chayanne. Golden swords are unfamiliar in their hands. The realization of finding at least three of the children didn't have a chance to set in before he felt something run into his front. He looked down to see Richas. His darling child. His son. His son, the child he would (and did), bring the world to ruin for. Leo's hand froze outstretched as she had been reaching for Richas' undershirt before she noticed it was Forever whom he had run to. Tallulah and Ramón came out from where they had been hiding behind Leonarda. And that makes seven, all seven.

Forever is sure that all seven of them are holding onto him somehow. He doesn't mind, purely grateful that he found them. He's pretty sure they're all dehydrated as he would expect more tears. Maybe they're all too scared to let tears shed. That thought hurt a little too much. Instead, his thoughts turned to how they were going to get out of this place. His thoughts switched again to making sure there were no obvious injuries on the children. None of them seem to be critically injured, just a few bruises here or there. That's fine. All that matters is that he found them.

[impossiblepluto]

In honor of Star Wars Day, I thought I'd share the opening lines from a long abandoned project that I still secretly hope to finish some day.

There’s a pit of dread in Jack’s stomach. A familiar knot coiling as he watches the kid’s curiosity get the better of him and Jack can’t help but sigh. He’s not being reckless, that’s disingenuous. The kid is good. And he’s grown up quite a bit since he was a nineteen year old in the desert, mouthing off and looking for a fight. 

Fighting a war, watching a mentor die by enemy hands, losing a father makes you grow up quick. He’s come into his own as a tactician and leader. Still, despite his accomplishments and accolades, he needs someone watching his back when he forgets to do it. 

“I’ll see you shortly. There’s a meteor that hit the ground near here, I want to check it out,” the kid says through comms.

Jack shifts, the coil of anxiety growing. Shouldn’t let him go scampering off alone. He scans the inhospitable terrain. There’s something out there that they can't see. Something hunting them. Waiting to strike.

“Watch it, kid,” Jack mumbles, eyes narrowing as though he can stop what’s about to happen, though he knows it’s part of the catalyst kicking off the rest of the plot. 

Mac’s lips twitch into a small grin at the words that escape Jack’s lips. 

Jack rolls his eyes, but lets Mac’s have his mirth before turning his focus back to the screen in front of him. Waiting. Watching. Jack's eagle eyes never catch sight of it until it’s on top of the kid. With a roar that still gives Jack chills, the massive paw swipes down, claws extended, striking the kid. 

The vicious beast towers over unconscious Luke Skywalker, collapsed in the snow, face bloodied. 

And Han Solo, watcher of Luke’s back, has no idea of the danger his friend is in, and heads back to the safety of the Echo base on the ice planet Hoth. 

Jack’s jaw clenches as he watches the screen. 

Mac chucks a piece of popcorn at him, still chuckling at Jack’s dramatic reaction to the attack. “How many times have you seen this movie?”

“Couple dozen at least,” Jack shrugs. 

“That seems generously low. But you still jump every time the Wampa attacks.”

“Think I saw it eight times when it was in theaters.”

“Weren’t you like five when it came out?”

“It made an impression.”

“Not that much of an impression because you jump at this part every time.” 

“It’s not a jump. It’s more of a... flinch.”

Mac raises an eyebrow. “I don’t think that’s any better.”

“Nah, a jump is a jump and a flinch is a flinch and there’s some overlap but there’s a nuanced difference here.”

Mac’s eyebrows creep higher.

“It’s not a startled flinch, everybody knows the Wampa is there, even if they search frame by frame and can’t find him-"

"Which you've done."

"-camouflaged in the snow waiting to attack. It’s a… concerned flinch. An oh-no-Luke-is-hurt-flinch. What’s gonna happen to him now? All alone without his team.” 

“But you know what happens.”

“Han and Leia don’t. Chewie and the droids don’t. No one even knows Luke is missing yet. No one knows he’s in danger.”

"Han finds him." Mac hums picking up another handful of popcorn, studying the kernels. 

"Of course he does. Ain't no world where Han doesn't come back for Luke. I mean, except when he's frozen in carbonite but then Luke comes for him."

Mac hums picking up another handful of popcorn, studying the kernels.

“You-” Jack swallows. “You want to talk about it?”

“The movie?”

“The movie. Penny’s Halloween party. Your impromptu trip to Texas.” Jack looks at Mac out of the corner of his eye. 

“I think we’ve probably discussed everything Star Wars already, unless you want to lose the Ewok debate again.”

“First of all, I did not lose that debate-”

“Yeah, I think you did-” Jack scowls. “And second, let’s save it for when we get to Jedi so I can pause it to have visuals for my arguments.”

[munchmemes]

mitski lyrics, The Land Is Inhospitable And So Are We edition

❛ as i got older, i learned i'm a drinker. sometimes a drink feels like family. ❜

❛ did you go and make promises you can't keep? ❜

❛ amateur mistake, you can take it from me. ❜

❛ i try to remember the wrath of the devil was also given to him by god. ❜

❛ i have a hope and though she's blind with no name, she shits where she's supposed to and feeds herself while i'm away. ❜

❛ sometimes i think it would be easier without [them] but i know nothing can hurt me when i see [their] sleeping face. ❜

❛ all of our love is filling all of our room. ❜

❛ now i bend like a willow, thinking of [you/them]. ❜

❛ i sip on the rest of the coffee [you/they] left like it's a kiss left of [you/them]. ❜

❛ something set free is running through the night and the dark awaits us all around the corner. ❜

❛ here in our place we have for the day, can we stay a while and listen for heaven? ❜

❛ i don't like my mind, i don't like being left alone in a room with all its opinions about the things that i've done. ❜

❛ so, yeah, i blast music loud and i work myself to the bone and on an inconvenient christmas, i eat a cake. a whole cake, all for me. ❜

❛ there's another memory that gets stuck inside the walls of my skull waiting for its turn to talk. and it may be a few years but you can bet it's there, waiting still for me to be left alone in a room full of things that i've done. ❜

❛ i want someone to take this soul, i can't bear to keep it. ❜

❛ i'd give it just to give and all i will take are the consequences. ❜

❛ your pain is eased but you'll never be free. ❜

❛ there's a deal that i made. ❜

❛ when memories snow and cover up the driveway, i shovel all those memories and clear the path to drive to the store. ❜

❛ and if i break, could i go on break? ❜

❛ i'll be back in my room, writing speeches in my head. ❜

❛ my love is mine, all mine. ❜

❛ nothing in the world belongs to me but my love is mine, all mine. ❜

❛ nothing in the world is mine for free but my love. ❜

❛ after everyone's long been gone but me, i was hiding or forgotten. the only one left. ❜

❛ now the world is mine alone with no one to share the memory. ❜

❛ you're my best friend. now i've no one to tell how i lost my best friend. ❜

❛ remember when we met, we acted like two fools. we were so glad to have found it. ❜

❛ that love is like a star. it's gone, we just see it shining. it's traveled very far. i'll keep a leftover light burning so you can keep looking up. isn't that worth holding on? ❜

❛ you know i'd always been alone till you taught me to live for somebody. ❜

❛ you believe me like a god. i destroy you like i am. ❜

❛ i'm sorry i'm the one you love. ❜

❛ no one will ever love me like you again. ❜

❛ so, when you leave me, i should die. i deserve it, don't i? ❜

❛ one day, you'll figure me out and i'll meet judgement by the hounds. ❜

❛ people always gave me love. others were never to blame after all. ❜

❛ you believe me like a god. i betray you like a man. ❜

❛ stride through the house naked. don't even care that the curtains are open. ❜

❛ let the darkness see me. ❜

❛ streets are mine, the night is mine. all my own. ❜

❛ oh, how i love me after you. i'm king of all the land. ❜

[xruiningth3sh0wx]

We live in a wicked, wicked world.

 

One that is at the cusp of a grandiose collapse in which humanity may never be able to recover, condemned to the wastebasket of history, left to rot there for the rest of eternity. Forgotten by its own home, let alone the infinite multitude of stars, planets, and astral dust. Humanity wants to deny life? Very well, it shall. It would appear Homo Sapiens has a suicidal impulse. I say, let it live out its wish.

 

And who is to blame? Why, humanity itself. The human race is the root cause of the wretched happenings that have plagued the more recent millennia, especially in the past 1 to 2 thousand years. Humanity has helped foster an unlivable,  inhospitable, lethal environment for life on this great, wonderful world that we found ourselves on. One that is hostile to life, to the ones who came before us. The flora, the fauna, and their homes. In all of arrogance, as we are, at heart, Homo Hubris, we have deemed it our birthright to rape and pillage and demolish this place, with the utmost hatred and glee.

 

Therefore, I reject the world of humanity. And I reach out to the others who feel the same way, wherever they may be. I know some are out there. Despairing at the sins of man that lie all around us, fist fucking the planet until it finally keels over and fades into cosmic vapor. Reject humanity, I say; the time has come to no longer count ourselves amongst the legions of man.

 

Cast aside all of the things that humanity has made for itself, and used to spur on a nihilistic impulse to deny life, to say no to life, to destroy life itself, or at the very least, make it not something chaotic, wonderful, ecstatic, exuberant, violently passionate, but regimented, harrowing, grey, soulless, and suffocating…all of it. Its grotesque civilizations, its masses, its movementarian menaces, its “normalcy”, its need to build new worlds (because, oh so desperately, it cannot stand to live in this one; this one is not good enough, so it must leave it behind, for the demonic Messiah pumped their lethargic minds and hearts with the most inane propaganda), its desperate need to fling itself into the future with reckless abandon (whatever the fuck the “future” means), its rampage of conquest and bitter, foul revenge against Nature, overcome by the Promethean urge to master and dominate our Mother, to usurp Her, and Her children, its rabid concoctions of a miserable, abstract design, which crumble into ash when the first strike hits it, and it is forced to confront the very fragile essence of what it is.

 

Beware, it shall all try to tempt you back into the fold, even though you want out, eager to break free. Sedate you with narcotics mind-numbing and brain-destroying, rotting you away from the inside out, until your corpse is a bastion of synthetic poison. Too riddled with disgusting products to even touch. Dull your connection to the natural world, by making you feast upon the critters in droves, seeing them not as “pure soul”, as Klages thought them to be, but soulless, as the bastard Descartes would have it; therefore, consuming them without guilt. Purchasing them for your own amusement, even (a most horrid slave trade). Demanding you regard the plants as little else but inanimate objects, novelty items that must be cleared away for more and more (of what? I cannot make heads or tails of it, only that I am repulsed by what may take their place), destroyed when deemed inconvenient, and gobbled up with reckless abandon when the utilitarian mindset deems them worth of their attention (a most grim fate, indeed). Warping your brain into looking at Nature, not as alive, as a living, breathing, thinking, feeling organism that, in all of its vastness, is beautiful and terrifying, wild and peaceful, bloody and tranquil, mesmerizing and macabre, but simply a mechanism, a machine, a system of turning gears and conveyor belts that produces things for the dullards to make use of. Perhaps it shall try to placate, “accept”, in the most shallow and superficial of ways. But do not be seduced by the false tongues, by the promises of windbags and liars. It is only for the mere sake of economic production, anyway. To ramp it up and increase it to new, dizzying heights. And they will lie, saying that one must rely on them, that this monstrosity is needed. Essential, even. A fixture that must be maintained and upheld, fanatically, with the devotion of a cult. Listen not, for it is hogwash.

 

I invite those who have been deemed “inhuman” by humanity, to stop pining for humanity’s eventual good graces, and leave them to perish in their wake, to fall into obscurity; they shall never come, so why bother? The freaks and outcasts, whores and hedonists, the queers and polygamists, flamboyant and stubbornly ruetic, incarnations of Lilith and Dionysus, radical, militant ones who remember/live the old pagan ways, and cackling, howling individuals of a satanic inclination, the savage and undomesticated, the vagabonds and homeless, you proud and brave few have been cast aside by man…and so be it. You didn’t need them anyway. Decadent, deviant, degenerate? By their standards, surely. All that can be responded with is, “yes”.

 

Maintain that individuality which causes friction between you and the monolith, Leviathan. It deems you an enemy? Very well; as Schmitt knew so well, once the distinction has been made, then you have no choice but to decimate that which deems you a threat, an enemy. For to call a detriment to your life a “friend” is a mistake, cowardly, reminiscent of the pitiful Nazarene. Do you want total war? Yes, you want total war. To smite and kill, and show this world your iron will.

 

Destroy them, destroy them all. We will dance on the ruins whilst rapture overtakes their sacred idols. Not now, not anytime soon, but one day, perhaps. All of these instruments of butchery have expiration dates, and therefore cannot last forever. But this is not a call to rebuild once the wheel has come down to grind us down into a paste. No, we must burn the wheel and hop off of it once and for all.

 

Annihilation awaits…heed its call…

[jacqcrisis]

I have kept thinking about the desert grungy sci-fi jayvik au. I don't have a real... plot for it other than a lot of disconnected ideas but I figure I'll write out about it a bit more with the world and Jayce and Viktor's specific backstories.

The world they live in is cutthroat. Most of the populace lives in walled off megalopolises separated by hundreds of miles of dry inhospitable land, controlled by an incomprehensible network of corrupt politicians and wealthy tech tycoons. Entry into these cities is based off citizenship or merit or wealth, and it is nearly impossible to get into one if you aren't already born there.

Outside of these walls, pockets of communities have cropped up to make some kind of a living. It's difficult, the land is lawless, crime rampant, and resources scarce but what do humans do if not carve out a way to live?

And connecting all of this is a highway, running between the cities and cutting through the desert. A long unbroken road, unprotected from the elements or the gangs that roam the place, looking for easy, unprotected vehicles to pick off for valuables and scrap. It's the only paved highway of its kind, and is necessary to cross the desert between the cities with any kind of certainty.

There, at the halfway point between Piltover and a smaller sister city, is Zaun, a tiny town of a few hundred citizens. Subsidized in part from Piltover originally as a rest stop, and kept alive by a small weapons factory, the excess energy sold off from the solar panels that run the place, and the travelers than pass through here, Zaun is a veritable dusty oasis for the lost and the downtrodden in the middle of nowhere. And it's most notable feature is the gas station that fuels and repairs the vehicles that brave the highway, manned by only a few employees, including two young inventors.

Jayce wasn't born here, coming from a smaller clan that got wiped out when Jayce was around 8, leaving him and his mom seeking out safety and work in Zaun. Jayce grows up an introverted loner, not wanting to cause trouble for his mom and more focused on the dream of inventing something that would get them into the fabled heaven that is Piltover and he spends most of his time with machines and car parts and dry manuals and engineering books. He didn't cross paths much with Viktor in this time as they ran in different circles but a few chance encounters has Jayce quietly enamored with the guy by the time he starts working at the gas station.

Viktor did grow up here, one of a non-insignificant number of abandoned infants that make it to the relative safety of Zaun every few years. Early in his childhood, tragedy strikes and his leg is crushed in an accident. Given there's one guy (Singed) in town who's barely qualified as doctor and medical supplies are thin on the ground, the decision to amputate is an easier one than risking death by infection, and what's left after the surgery is most of his thigh. Being an inventive little guy, Viktor's general interest in building things and mechanics gets tested and he makes several different prosthetics for himself over the years.

He grows up, makes a pretty good name for himself as a fix it guy, runs probably with the 'wrong crowd' a bit as he does auto repair and fine tuning for fucked up drag race cars in the middle of the desert for extra cash. Dreams of a better life for the people of his town and for himself as he gets hired at the gas station where in just a couple of years time, he'll be working with the very person who will either make that dream come true or ruin everything.

And they're going to be so stupid about each other while they do it. Jayce falls head over ass on conversation one with Viktor and Viktor doesn't even notice how far gone he himself has traversed down the 'falling in love with your best friend/coworker/roommate/science partner' road until he's too in deep. And you know they won't talk about, you know they're gunna let that shit simmer, you know they are going to be So.

Weird.

About.

It.

Between fixing all sorts of fucked up cars, dealing with customers, inventing their life changing macguffin, and interacting with the various denizens of their town including all the usual Zaun characters. I have so many scenes for this but nothing that's connected coherently.

[euphoriabled-memes]

The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We.

All starters are lyrics taken from the album The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We by Mitski, released September 15, 2023. Please feel free to change as you see fit. ( Seeing as I’ve made this meme the day this album came out, some lyrics may be incorrect. My apologies! )

Bug Like an Angel

" As I got older, I learned I'm a drinker. "

" Hey, what's the matter? "

" Did you go and make promises you can't keep? "

" Well, when ya break them, they break you right back. "

Buffalo Replaced

" Mosquitoes can enjoy me, I can't go inside. "

" Sometimes I think it would be easier without her. "

" I know nothing can hurt me when I see her sleepin' face. "

Heaven

" I bend like a willow thinkin’ of you. "

" I sip on the rest of the coffee you left: a kiss left of you. "

" The dark awaits us all around the corner. "

I Don't Like My Mind

" I don't like my mind. "

" I don't like being left alone in a room with all its opinions about the things that I've done. "

" I blast music loud, and I work myself to the bone. "

" There's another memory that gets stuck inside the walls of my skull waiting for its turn to talk. "

" And it may be a few years, but you can bet it's there. "

" You can bet it's there, waiting still for me to be left alone in a room full of things that I've done. "

The Deal

" There's a deal you can make on a midnight walk alone. "

" It will ask what you'd give and what you'd take for it in return. "

" I can't bear to keep it, I'd give it just to give. "

" All I will take are the consequences. "

" Of course, nothing replied. Nothing speaks to you in the night. "

" Your pain is eased but you'll never be free. "

When Memories Snow

" I shovel all those memories; clear the path to drive to the store. "

" Back in my room, writin' speeches in my head. "

My Love Mine All Mine

" ____, tell me if I could send up my heart to you. "

" My love is mine, all mine. "

" Nothing in the world belongs to me, but my love. "

The Frost

" Everyone's long been gone, but me? I was hidin', or forgotten. "

" Now the world is mine alone. "

" You're my best friend. "

Star

" Remember when we met? "

" We acted like two fools! "

" We were so glad, so glad to have found it. "

" Love is like a star: it's gone, we just see it shinin'. "

" You know I'd always been alone. "

" I'd always been alone 'til you taught me to live for somebody. "

I'm Your Man

" You're an angel, I'm a dog. "

" You believe me like a god; I destroy you like I am. "

" I'm sorry I'm the one you love. "

" No one will ever love me like you again. "

" When you leave me, I should die. "

" I deserve it, don't I? "

" One day you'll figure me out. "

" People always gave me love. "

" You believe me like a god; I betray you like a man. "

I Love Me After You

" The curtains are open! "

" Let the darkness see me. "

" I'm king of all the land. "

[snowlandsontop12]

This will be a fanfiction

Trope: Enemies to lovers

Summary: Tally Lockwood, a spirited young girl with a fiery soul, resides in the opulent heart of the capital, a city draped in luxury that contrasts starkly with the brutal reality of her society. Beneath her graceful exterior and among the glittering parties, she harbors a fierce secret: an unwavering defiance against the sadistic games that dictate the lives of its citizens. As the ominous day of the reaping draws near, her determination to break free from the gilded cage of her lavish yet stifling existence grows ever stronger.

But fate takes a cruel turn when the devious game maker alters the laws, making it possible for Capital citizens to serve as tributes. In a harrowing twist, Tally's name is called, plunging her into the nightmarish world of the Hunger Games as she stands to represent the capital in its tenth iteration. This grim fate starkly illustrates the merciless truth: no one, not even those cloaked in privilege and luxury, is safe from the inhospitable cruelty of the arena.

Warning: The narrative will explore profoundly intricate adult themes that encompass the harrowing realities of death, vivid bloodshed, graphic depictions of gore, and detailed sexual violence.

—————

Prologue

Rooted to the spot, my feet felt as though they were cast in concrete, immobilizing me in a moment of sheer disbelief. The sharp blast of the cannon reverberated through the air, echoing ominously in the chaotic arena.

My senses overwhelmed, and I took in the scene around me; the ground was a tapestry of destruction, littered with jagged shards of concrete that seemed to tell stories of violence and desperation. Amid the turmoil, tributes darted past each other to the center of the arena to grab their weapons.

All I could hear were blood-curdling screams that I knew would haunt me forever if I made it out alive, and all I could see were splatters of red.

Crimson hues surrounded me, enveloping every corner of my vision. I felt an urgent impulse to cry out his name, to let it echo through the air until my throat burned with the effort. At that moment, all I could think of was Coryo—my only hope of escaping this horrifying nightmare that seemed to stretch on endlessly.

—————

Chapter One: The Reaping of the Capitol Citizen

As I sat in grim contemplation, the unsettling thought of my imminent death loomed heavily over me. Not attending the reaping ceremony of the Hunger Games could lead to such a dire fate—a grim price to pay in the dystopian world of Panem. This brutal event, held annually, forced innocence into a ruthless arena where a child from each of the twelve districts was chosen to fight to the death.

The spectacle served as chilling entertainment for the affluent citizens of the Capitol, who reveled in the macabre show as they watched the tributes from the districts descend into violence and despair.

The very idea of this cruel game churned my stomach with a sense of dread. As I grew up, I was helplessly trapped in a front-row seat to the horrific spectacle, witnessing my parents fervently placing bets on their favorite tributes. I watched in anguish, counting down the moments until each tribute either met its tragic end or emerged as a Victor.

The cheers that erupted from my parents when their favored contestants triumphed felt hollow, a stark contrast to the chilling screams of those who had perished. The spectacle was a punishment and reminder of the Capitol's power and was intended to deter future rebellions. The fates of countless children would be decided—a grim event I could hardly bear to embrace.

In just a few minutes, I would be stepping into the imposing halls of Capitol Academy. As a mentor for one of the 24 tributes, I felt the weight of expectation resting heavily on my shoulders. My background offered me this opportunity—my parents, with their vast wealth and connections, had paved the way, and my impressive academic record sealed the deal.

Yet, despite my privilege, I found no solace among the opulent surroundings and the people within them. Each face I encountered exuded a sense of entitlement and ambition that sickened me, none more so than that of the Snow family. Cornelius Snow, in particular, with his calculating smile and icy demeanor, embodied everything I despised about this world of power and manipulation.

With each passing moment, the thought of skipping the ceremony whispered temptingly in my mind, a flicker of hope amid the impending dread. Could I really do it? Probably not. Yet, deep down, I wrestled with the realization that if I chose not to attend, it might mean relinquishing my chance to witness the terrifying moment of reaping—the pale, frightened faces of the district children as they awaited their fate.

I felt the gentle tug of my maid as she gathered strands of my dark hair, her nimble fingers working with precision. Carefully, she wrapped sections around a heated rod, creating loose, elegant curls that framed my face. Meanwhile, I absentmindedly picked at my freshly manicured fingernails, now shaped in an exquisite almond style, their translucent pearlescent color shimmering faintly in the light.

"Why are you picking at your nails, sweetie?" she asked, her voice tinged with gentle concern, startling me from my daydream. I hadn’t realized she had been watching me so closely. Instinctively, I dropped my hands into my lap, a wave of warmth flooding my cheeks, a vivid blush of embarrassment. "I'm just nervous about who's going to be picked for the reaping today, that's all," I mumbled, my eyes darting away as she deftly finished styling my hair, tucking a perfectly placed headband into place.

"Now, why would you be nervous about something like that?" she replied, squeezing my shoulder with a reassuring touch. Yet, deep inside, I was consumed by an overwhelming guilt. It didn’t feel right. "Because why would anyone in their right mind be excited about watching children face death on live TV? It’s wrong. It's not an honor," I said, turning to meet her gaze. But instead of the understanding I hoped for, all I could feel was a raw sting akin to a slap across the face, the harsh truth of my words hanging heavily between us.

"I don’t want you to speak like that anymore, my child. If anyone were to overhear you, they would brand you a rebel." Her voice was firm, and she stood before me, a fierce silhouette against the dim light of the room. I felt were the warmth of her hand lightly grazing my cheek, when she slapped me, a gentle yet poignant reminder of her concern. The word "rebels" lingered in the air, clinging to my thoughts like thick butter spread on warm bread.

I recalled those school lessons, where the darker chapters of our history unfolded—the stories of the Rebels during the harrowing nights of Panem's past, when the Capitol's grip tightened after the apocalyptic war shattered our world. Each word was a weight, a reminder of the struggles we faced, and the games we were forced to participate in, designed not just as entertainment but as a cruel demonstration of the Capitol's relentless power, a chilling warning meant to deter any thoughts of rebellion.

If I was entertaining thoughts of rebellion, did that already brand me a rebel in my own mind? The mere idea of turning against the very people of Panem—my friends, my family—filled me with dread. What would it mean to be imprisoned, or perhaps even face execution, for such a seemingly traitorous act? The fear tightened around my throat, an imaginary grip that made me wonder if I might soon lose my voice entirely, becoming an Avox, forever silenced.

I hesitantly reached my hand to my mouth, a shudder running through me at the thought of my tongue being severed, leaving me mute and powerless, never to express my thoughts again. “Tally Lockwood, promise me you won’t speak of this,” she urged her voice barely a whisper. “Don’t refer to these children as if they’re truly human—they’re suffering the consequences of past transgressions for which they bear responsibility.”

I shook my head in disbelief, the weight of the absurdity pressing down on me. “To punish generations yet to come for sins they haven’t committed—it's utterly outrageous.”

"Enough, Tally." Her voice rose, sharp and commanding, leaving me speechless. "It's time to go," She insisted, nudging me gently but firmly to rise. As I rose gracefully to my feet, I carefully smoothed the fabric of my brown button-up corset, its intricately laced edges delicate against my shirt. The light glinted off my white long-sleeved puffy blouse, accentuating its soft, gentle texture.

With each step I took, the hem of my flowing multicolor ruffled skirt, adorned with an array of vibrant floral patterns, swirled around my legs, dancing in harmony with my movements. The petals seemed to bloom with every sway, creating a picturesque scene that captured the essence of spring.

"Remember to smile and look happy," the words lingered in my mind like a haunting echo as I stepped through the threshold, entering a world charged with a heady mix of anticipation and anxiety. The bustling air crackled with energy, alive with the sound of laughter and the chatter of excited voices as throngs of people gathered, each individual jostling for the perfect spot.

I scanned the sea of faces, all adorned with bright smiles that seemed to radiate warmth. Their carefree conversations dripped with joy, creating an atmosphere thick with enthusiasm. But as I observed them, an uneasy knot twisted in my stomach; their excitement felt alien to me, a stark reminder of my own apprehension about the day ahead.

Part of me longed to turn back, to retreat into the safety of familiarity, away from the daunting prospect of mentoring a child who might not even stand a chance in this whirlwind of expectations. I imagined how envious my classmates would be if they knew I was contemplating turning down such an opportunity—a chance that many would eagerly snatch up. But deep down, I grappled with a different truth: the only reason I had become a mentor in the first place was the weight of my parents’ aspirations.

They had laid this path out for me, eager to highlight their daughter’s accomplishments, convinced they were betting on a sure thing without recognizing the uncertainties simmering just beneath the surface of my determination. But I wasn’t about to turn back; I had already caught the attention of someone who shared my perspective on these unethical games.

Sejanus Plinth was a boy of unwavering principles, possessing a strong moral compass that guided his every action. He never hesitated to express his thoughts, regardless of the consequences. Today was no exception, as he and I found ourselves ensnared in the same predicament.

I spotted his dark curls from a distance, their unruly tendrils bouncing lightly with each step he took. He offered me a sympathetic smile, his eyes glistening with an unmistakable hint of guilt. Choosing not to be impolite, I steered toward him, my brown boots clicking rhythmically against the polished marble floor, each step echoing softly in the chattering room.

"Isn't this just dehumanizing?" he remarked, his voice laced with a palpable disgust as we stood face to face, the tension between us thick in the air. I nodded solemnly in agreement, my response drawn out as I sighed, "Very." The weight of the moment pressed down on us, making it difficult to shake off the unease. "If only they were the ones fighting for their lives; you can bet their tone would shift dramatically," I added, a hint of bitterness creeping into my words. With a gentle tug, I pulled him around, and together we began to walk toward Heavensbee Hall, a place that buzzed with anticipation and dread, where we would soon uncover the identities of our tributes.

"You know, my father bought a tribute for me," he said as we wove through the bustling crowd, the tantalizing aroma of food wafting from the nearby buffet table. I glanced up at him and recognized that same shadow of guilt etched on his features from earlier. "Why would your father do that?" I asked, curiosity piquing my interest. I was well aware of his origins in District 2, where he had been considered an outcast here. Yet, despite that, his prestigious academy had been exceptionally affluent, ultimately earning him a place at Capitol Academy.

As we edged closer to the table, he hesitated before continuing, his voice barely rising above the din of laughter and chatter around us. "Father thought it would be best—or perhaps it's more about showing off—buying a tribute from my home district. One of my "friends," you could say, but also to ensure my safety from being reaped." His words were soft, intended for my ears alone, cloaked in the weight of unspoken emotions and complicated family dynamics.

"I'm truly sorry to hear that," I murmured softly, gently squeezing his arm. I could see the raw pain etched on his face, a mixture of frustration and sorrow that made him look to passersby like a petulant child throwing a tantrum. Yet beneath that surface, I understood the deeper turmoil he faced—he was on the brink of losing not just a neighbor, but a cherished friend who had shared countless moments with him. The weight of that realization pressed heavily upon him, and I wished there was more I could do to ease his heartache.

As we stepped into the grand Heavensbee Hall, the atmosphere buzzed with an air of sophistication and subtle tension. In the corner, I spotted him surrounded by a circle of his usual entourage—Coriolanus Snow, sharp-eyed and commanding as ever. Flanked by Clemensia Dovecote, with her striking elegance and piercing gaze, and Arachne Crane, whose presence was as formidable as her intricate designs, they formed a tableau of privilege and power.

Festus Creed lounged casually, a crooked grin playing on his lips, while Felix Ravinstill shifted restlessly, his dark eyes darting about, soaking in the scene. As our linked arms drew their attention, I felt the weight of their smirks and the flickering whispers shared among them. Their judging eyes cut through the polished facade of the hall, undoubtedly casting our entrance as the subject of their mockery.

"There, staring at us from across the room, an unsettling awareness washed over me, as if I were suddenly pulled from the shadows into the light of their scrutiny. I could feel the weight of their gaze pressing down, a silent acknowledgment of our existence. I nudged Sejanus to draw his attention, and his eyes widened as he registered the same sensation. 'Well, that just gives us more reason to approach them,' he said, his voice barely above a whisper, 'the more they’re fixated on us, the more they’re likely to gossip about our lives right in front of our faces.'"

He gently patted my hand, a comforting gesture, as we threaded our way through the crowd toward them. The air was thick with tension, and I caught snippets of Festus' voice rising above the murmurs. "I hear another word about how The Hunger Games are immorally wrong; I'm going to throw them both in the arena myself."

His words were sharp, deliberately loud for our ears to catch. Unable to stifle my impulse, I retorted, "You would like that, wouldn't you? The odds would be truly in your favor." I rolled my eyes, the irritation bubbling just beneath the surface, as we closed the distance between us and the looming threat of his dark amusement.

"Sejanus and Tally, I’m honestly surprised the two of you managed to make it to the reaping this year,” he said, his tone feigning shock. “And look at you—graduation too! Color me surprised.” He shot back, a smirk playing on his lips, causing me to stifle a small giggle behind my hand.

The moment captured Coriolanus's attention, a slight smile breaking through his stoic demeanor. Our eyes met for a fleeting second, a spark of connection in the air, but I quickly looked away, feeling a rush of warmth creeping up my cheeks as the weight of his gaze lingered. Then I could hear Arachne, her voice dripping with disdain. “Well, aren’t you just dressed up for the occasion? Is that from the clown section? I’ve never seen anyone so garishly dressed outside of a cottage.”

With a defiant glint shimmering in my eye, I shot back, “At least I can celebrate who I truly am instead of hiding behind Mommy and Daddy’s wealth.” My words hung in the air, causing her to glance away, visibly unsettled. She quickly shifted her focus to Sejanus, avoiding eye contact with me as if my words had struck too close to home. “Spill it—who won the prize?” she pressed, her tone a mix of curiosity and desperation.

“Oh no,” he replied with a playful smirk, “I’m not going to ruin my father’s big day. No one here actually cares for him, but they sure do adore his money.” his voice dripped with irony, echoing the underlying tension in the room filled with elegantly dressed guests pretending to celebrate while their true motivations lay buried beneath the surface.

As the haunting strains of the anthem of reaping filled the air, we made our way to our seats, a sense of anticipation hanging thick around us. Unfortunately, I found myself with Coriolanus seated to my left, his presence both imposing and unsettling, while Sejanus occupied the seat on my right, his demeanor less intense but still charged with an underlying tension.

Sejanus leaned in toward Coriolanus, trying to engage him in conversation, and instinctively, I leaned back slightly, creating a small barrier. "Hey, listen," Sejanus said, his voice low yet urgent. "I know you have high hopes for this, but there's no prize today. Not anymore. I'm so sorry." His words hung heavy in the air as I glanced at Cornelius, whose expression morphed into one of disbelief and shock. I understood then how deeply he had clung to the idea of winning—it had been the focus of his discussions over the past few days, his excitement palpable and contagious.

Being a "friend" of Sejanus came with its own set of challenges, which meant I had to endure Coriolanus's hopeful facade at close quarters, even as the harsh reality began to settle in. A chilling, maniacal laughter echoed in the air, sending shivers down my spine as an unsettling rigidity washed over my body.

My heart raced with an electric thrill as the chilling voice seeped into the air, wrapping around me like a frigid fog. It was unmistakable—the voice belonged to Dr. Gual, the infamous head game maker of The Hunger Games. "How tantalizing it is," she purred, her tone dripping with mockery, "to behold all of your shining young faces on this auspicious day. I am Doctor Volumnia Gual, your humble head game maker and the mastermind orchestrating the War Department along with its myriad of sinister operations."

A sly smile curled her lips as she stepped into the light, the gleam of her mismatched eyes—one a piercing blue and the other a deep-set brown—giving her an unsettling appearance. "Today, I've emerged from my laboratory, drawn by the allure of curiosity, to scrutinize you, the leaders of the next generation." Her laughter echoed around the room, a manic sound that sent shivers down my spine. "I won’t be here forever, after all."

As I mumbled under my breath, “Hopefully not,” I felt Cornelius' gaze sharpen, stirring an unease within me. I quickly turned my eyes away, seeking refuge in the crowd. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation as she proclaimed, “I am honored to introduce you to the architect of the Hunger Games, the enigmatic Dean Casca High Bottom.” Her voice resonated through the hall, drawing the attention of every student, faculty member, and, of course, Dr. Gual, who stood at the forefront, his expression unreadable.

“I have summoned you all here today for the 10th annual reaping ceremony,” He continued, his tone both somber and commanding, “where we will select two children from each district to be thrust into the heart of the Capitol arena to fight to the death in the Hunger Games.” The weight of his words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the grim tradition that bound us all.

"Here sit our very own 24 top prospects, each one anxiously awaiting the announcement of who will claim the coveted Plith prize there will not be one. I'm here to deliver some startling news: this year marks a significant departure from tradition, a major turning point. One final assignment will determine your fate and prove your worth. The citizens of the capital, growing increasingly disenchanted with the games, have turned their attention elsewhere, and if they are to continue at all, an audience is essential." Dean led on.

The head game maker, Dr. Gaul—is known for her shocking creativity and unorthodox methods. This year, she has taken an unprecedented step. With a dramatic flourish, she has decided to personally select just one of you to be thrust into the arena." I could feel the air grow heavy with tension as the announcement echoed through the crowd, sending waves of shock and disbelief rippling among the prospects. Panic surged, audible in the gasps and murmurs that filled the room. I glanced over at Sejanus, his expression mirroring my own fear, eyes wide with dread as the reality of the situation began to sink in.

"Excuse me?" Arachne's voice was tight as she spoke through her flawlessly clenched teeth. Anger flickered in her eyes as she rose from her seat next to Sejanus, her posture confident and defiant. "You can't make capital children participate in the games."

Dean's gaze was steady as he gestured for her to sit back down. "Settle down, Miss Crane," he commanded, his tone authoritative yet calm. The quiet murmur in the assembly softened as he continued, "We have made this decision to demonstrate to the other districts that the games are equitable for everyone, and no one will be exempt from their consequences this will be a brand new rule."

Lost in the depths of my thoughts, I pondered the looming consequences of our situation. Anxiety gnawed at me as I recalled the ominous prospect of being reaped. I fervently hoped it wouldn’t be Sejanus; despite his status as a former district, he seemed too good-hearted to face such a fate.

Yet, I forced those worries aside, my mind drifting back to his unsettling confession about how his father had purchased him a tribute. The weight of that revelation cast a shadow over all of us, making it clear that any one of us could be chosen, and the uncertainty gripped me with a cold, unrelenting fear.

"As the reaping unfolds, a hushed anticipation hangs in the air, and the tension in the crowd builds. " One of you, a child from the opulent Capitol, will be summoned last, accompanied by a mentor adorned in the lavish attire that signifies their privileged status. It’s important to remember that we have already preselected 25 tributes, each representing their district with hopes and fears as they step into the unknown."

The cacophony of televisions flickered out, an ominous prelude that marked the beginning of the reaping. My heart raced as I reached for Sejanus's hand, gripping it tightly, a silent anchor amidst the tension suffusing the room. The screen flickered to life, casting an eerie glow as the moment approached. "Here we go," Dean murmured, settling onto the steps before Sejanus. Dean, a short man with dwarfism, sat adorned in a flowing black robe that seemed to amplify the gravity of the occasion. His presence was solemn, lending an air of foreboding to the already charged atmosphere.

“Let the reaping ceremony begin,” he announced, his voice echoing through the tense atmosphere. The crowd fell silent, eyes fixed on the stage as the names were called. “From District 1, the boy goes to Olivia Cardo, and 11 girl, to Palmyra Monty.” The names hung in the air like a heavy fog, each one weighted with fate. As he continued, “District 2, the boy goes to Sejanus Plith,” I couldn't help but mentally tally the tributes, anxiously counting down to those who would be spared from the harrowing Games.

Nearby, I overheard Cornelius’s voice laced with mockery as he addressed Sejanus, “You’ve got the privilege of picking up the litter. How lucky for you that you’re not among those facing the Games.” Sejanus turned to meet Cornelius’s gaze, sarcasm dripping from his reply, “You forget, I’m part of the litter.” The words hung between them, embodying the bitter irony of their world.

As the ceremony continued, the names of the mentors for each district were announced one by one. I anxiously waited, my heart pounding, as each name echoed through the tense atmosphere. Still, mine remained uncalled, just like Coriolanus beside me. The flicker of anxiety on his face was unmistakable; the looming shadow of the Games was weighing heavily on him.

I glanced at the crowd, hoping my name would soon be among them. As the announcer called out the last two districts, my anticipation heightened. With a steady voice, the names rang out: "District 11, the boy goes to Domitia Whimsiwick; the girl goes to Felix Ravinstill; District 12, the boy goes to Clemensia Dovecoat; and the girl to Joshua Hart." Each name felt significant, reverberating in the air like a countdown to fate. Would I be the next name to resonate in this charged moment?

One of us would be selected as a tribute, while the other would take on the role of mentor—but which one of us would face that fateful choice? At last, I summoned the courage to meet Cornelius's gaze, and in that instant, I saw the haunting reflection of both anxiety and hope shimmering in his eyes. He was likely wishing for my name to remain unspoken, allowing me to stay standing alongside him. "Good luck, Tally," he said, his voice steady yet tinged with a subtle undercurrent of concern that made my heart ache.

In the background, I caught a soft, derisive laugh from Arachne. Her sharp, angular features twisted into a smug smile, betraying her amusement as she reveled in the turmoil around us—after all, she too had been granted a pardon, and this day seemed to bring her unholy joy. "You too," I managed to reply, a heavy sigh escaping my lips as I felt the tremor in my voice, my lips quivering against the weight of the moment.

"At last, the moment had come to reveal the capital tribute. He lifted his gaze from the paper he clutched, taking a breath that felt heavy with anticipation. With a focused expression, he read aloud,

‘Tally Lockwood.’

[moonlitcomet]

A collection of some [not all] of SRC's Great and King elder dragons, being the most important ones in Cierian history. All of these dragons, except for Aeon, are members of functionally extinct species and are the last [or one of the last] of their kinds.

In some cultures, elder dragons are also referred to as titan dragons, hinting at their immense size compared to the average size of their known species. They are dragons who have lived many lifetimes,with the youngest one here [aside from Kosenta] being Sh'kavor at approximately 2,000 years old. Dragons marked in red in the following paragraphs are deceased, while dragons marked in green are still alive.

Mustora is considered the most famous of all elder dragons, let alone the mighty King Elder Dragons. She is the one responsible for the calamity that wiped out 40% of organic life during the dragon war. After her destructive rampage, she went dormant for thousands of years, the only remnant of her existence being the scar she left on the eastern continent and the Boiling Range that protected her resting place. Nowadays, Mustora has passed away after the birth of her single offspring, Kosenta.

Kosenta, roughly translating to "little god" in Draconic, is an infant of Mustora's species that is currently under care at Filokensia National Park. Being raised by stickmen and other more sociable dragons has the environmentalists in hope that Kosenta, when she is fully grown, will choose to protect the world rather than destroy it.

Emper is a cruel and vile elder dragon who is over 7,000 years old, and also the smallest adult one here. He holds great resentment for humanity, choosing to disguise as a stickman to protect himself and his kingdom. He resides on Skoteinó Island, north of The Dojo, where he is king of a small but self-sufficient population that serves him and him only.

He is known for his manipulative and aggressive tactics that keep him in power, and has been noted to have many soulbound servants to his name. While he is an elder dragon, few know his true identity, and those who do rarely keep their ability to talk about it.

Sh'kavor is the great elder dragon of the deep seas, who watches over the oceans he resides in. He has chosen Professor Valor as his patron caregiver and romantic partner, with her being the determined mother of his two children, Chulluk and Kashta. Sh'kavor is known to be shy to anyone who isn't Valor, and rarely surfaces except to visit her.

Deep underneath the surface where he lives, he is the lord of a society composed entirely of draconian merfolk and deep sea dragons. Little is known about the society due to humanity's inability to reach that far down and deep sea dragonkind being unable to surface without the resulting pressure changes killing them.

Su'tuun is a kind and hospitable King Elder Dragon who calls Magmus Ridge his home. He is rarely seen as well, though it is due to the fact that Magmus Ridge itself is near inhospitable to humanity and not due to his own shyness. When he is visited by anyone, he is known to be extremely kind and willing to talk for hours on end.

Due to his kindness, however, he is also known to be a bit of a coward and will refuse all combat in favor of protecting himself. Somehow, that has earned him the favor of several irritable dragons, including Galactus.

Galactus is a dragon of legend. While he is no longer on Cier's ball of rock, and instead out wandering space, he has left a large and permanent scar on Cier's history. Not only did he destroy the Kuduvens, now known as The Lost Kingdom, he was also the one who kickstarted the great dragon war. Mustora chased him off of Cier, and he has not returned since. The death of Mustora makes the ever-present threat of Galactus's return much more terrifying, though.

Galactus can warp space around him, going anywhere he pleases in the visible galaxy. There are rumors that he is an alien from deep space in the first place, but the long-forgotten truth is that he is a dragon that came from Cier itself. He is capable of harnessing purifying light beams with the same destructive power that killed nearly half of Cierian life, and somewhere deep in space it is likely that he is terrorizing other alien planets for the sake of his own amusement.

Aeon was a dragon known for her strict and seemingly contradictory self-image, having a reputation of cursing those who dared offend her presence. She was a chronowyrm, a member of the only species on Cier that can [or at least, is allowed to] harness time manipulation. She was known to all as the Timekeeper of Cier, protecting timelines from those who were trying to abuse them. She and her Chronowyrm kin all exclusively live in The Veil and the Eye of Chronos, a mysterious and poorly-explored area that is said to mess with the mind and sanity of those exploring.

Aeon is now sufficiently deceased and the role of Timekeeper has been taken by her successor, one of her many dozens of children. While chronowyrms are effectively immortal and do not die from age [as it comes with being tied to time], they are susceptible to physical damage and she was killed by a vengeful Aukkora, assisted by the alien dragon Ellyra, the Godhunter.

The Unknown Ice Dragon is a mysterious figure located deep in Nieran ice caves. This dragon was killed by ancient magic known as Dragonsbane, and its frozen corpse remains locked in a stasis state with hundreds of smaller dragons living on and around it. This dragon is the biggest known King Elder Dragon to ever exist, though little else is known about it- what does get passed around is no more than legend. The name given to the corpse by the dragons who live around it appears to be Juanadaar, roughly meaning "old king".

[the-nysh]

After finishing up my trigunbookclub reread of volume1, I feel I've come to a greater understanding of some of its first themes presented.

If the first story arc (ch00-04) introduces us to the tone & setting, where even on such a harsh, inhospitably dry desert planet to live, humanity's so often pushed to resort to violence to even survive, we're also shown how those unfortunate conditions and choices--even for this necessitated way of life, doesn't mean that humanity itself is inherently evil or a lost cause. :O I feel that's one of the biggest distinctions made.

Then in the Sand Steamer arc (ch05-09), I've come to appreciate the significance of Rem being introduced here--in a way that metaphorically (and successfully) puts her core beliefs directly into practice. Leading Vash towards a greater understanding of what it means for people to keep on living with hope ('blank tickets') for the future.

[First page (left, in ch5) poses his ongoing question to himself & Rem in his dreams: in a world (his reality) so terribly dry--even people's hearts, he wonders why people would go on living. Vs the second page (right, in ch9) after his whole experience on the Steamer, where he feels he more closely understands her belief and the answer to his question.]

Because everyone's 'tickets' riding on the Steamer's seemingly doomed course could be changed and averted to a whole new destination! Through the help of everyone choosing to come together to work to survive this and make it happen. Where humanity is capable of course-correcting itself despite even the worst conditions, and that demonstration of humanity's potential very much aligns with what Rem believed in, and represents why she gave her life for the rest of humanity to even have that chance of a future too. :')

Then paralleling Vash's experience (vs one half of the Nebraskas and following his epiphany about Rem on the Steamer), Meryl gets her own arc (ch10-12, vs the other Nebraskas, among continuing themes of family) that gives her the confidence boost to choose and commit towards her own course in life--her own 'blank ticket,' with greater faith and understanding too. Without holding herself back or closing her heart off towards what matters to her either, by taking action and contributing even in small but significant ways towards the course she wants to aim for. :') (More in-depth Meryl commentary here.)

Chapter-by-chapter commentary of vol1's first arc written here, but the Sand Steamer's in-depth commentary continues below:

Ch05: 'Assault'

True to his word in ch4, when Vash promised he'd take care of the lost 'stowaway' kid who's evidently in trouble, he TAKES CARE of him by providing extra food & shelter (in first class; no more insufficient space in third; wow, sweet caretaker Vash~) Even if he has to evade those sharp suspicions from the girls about what he's sneaking around doing. :P

Vash making small talk with the boy (while having one eye winked closed) feels almost like he's fishing for info, like Vash knows more than he lets on when he mentions stuff about the possibility of a 'raid' tonight. 👀 (Pretty sure he noticed the kid had a knife the prev ch too, so the kid is...def hiding something.) Along with some philosophical musings about their origins on this planet: has it been a happy blessing or a curse? For humanity to have arrived here yet be essentially stranded on this harsh, dry place to live. While on the other hand, the kid gauges him as well, thinking Vash seems to speak very oddly about such things (and it is odd to ask a child about this; how would he even have enough life experience to know?) since the kid--Kaite/Kaito has never had to compare his life's current tough situation or circumstances beyond what he's always known on this planet. So to him, it's as if Vash were speaking much like those who first arrived here and experienced the fall more than 100yrs ago. 👀👀 As if Vash knows (or feels with longing?) there's any other (better, happier) places for humans to be, with memory of places beyond here. Suspicions suspicions! (going both ways here, and this seems to be one of the first times Vash--or at least his perspective, comes off much older/different than he appears, especially to a young kid who can sense it.) Hmmm...but it seems Vash silently noticed too late that his drink had been drugged with something that suddenly puts him to sleep. That kid is much sneakier and skilled than he lets on! (You can't even take your guard down around kids here!) Despite how much he thinks of Vash as a 'nice guy.' :'D

Unfortunately cause the kid does have a priority job to prepare for...cause he's basically the scout ready to signal for when it's time for the Bad Lads' raid to begin! (hmm~ irony after Vash had just mentioned it before) The kid's worked ahead of time to disable the Steamer's main defense room so the ship can't shoot back, by putting all their security personnel to sleep the same way as Vash--by placing that same drug to dispense thru their air vents. So then I suppose the kid considered Vash part of Steamer's security too? :'D Enough to put him to sleep like the rest. He did see how much the caravan guy (prev ch) had tried to hire Vash to join before, so perhaps the kid took the extra precaution just to be 'safe.' To keep Vash from interfering too.

Anyway, Vash may be put to sleep but the GIRLS ARE AWAKE! Startled by all the commotion. (And god, what uncomfortably tight and claustrophobic crew's beds those are! D: But bonus cute: Milly loosely ties her hair back with bows for bedtime~)

But Vash being asleep means we're shown his first dream of Rem! (Looks like the kid was nice enough not to leave Vash snoozing on the floor, and somehow hauled him up onto the bed before he left.) One of Rem's first 'cues' is to the comforting, nostalgic sound of singing, and I like how the 98 adapted a whole song that basically represents 'her.' But if you remember in the prologue ch00 about how the 'same song of humanity still sang'....well, you can probably symbolically link the two together: she and the 'song of humanity' are likely representative of one in the same. Or rather, she represents (the best of) humanity itself - to HIM (as his mom an ideal he often seeks guidance from when lost), is the feeling I get.

UUuuruhghghh;;; man, ok, the line he asks her really gets to me. About him thinking how everything in this world (that he's seen so far in his life) is so terribly dry, even people's hearts :')) (Really? even from all the other people besides her he's met? even the kind ones? or has he just been..so tired.) That he just sits here (almost reverting to a childlike mentality--in the 98 anime he often speaks this way to her using 'boku' as his pronoun), wondering with no easy answer, repeatedly asking himself--and her, the same question: how can people can still find reasons to keep on living. :'))) And GOSH, he frames this to her as if the dry world (his reality) he knows of is that dream, while his preferred 'reality' is....this safe, familiar, comforting (ideal) peaceful dreamworld based on his memories with Rem. Man;;; escaping reality vs dreams...it's like which world would he prefer to keep on living in? When the one he knows upon waking is so continually dry and hard even for him to find those reasons to keep going...just how do people do it? God, do you see what I'm getting at. ;o; (Especially after he asked Kaite, the boy, whether their arrival--or birth/fate here is anything to be happy about...man, alright, so maybe that was Vash's subtle way of asking a fellow kid how to stay happy before he asks his mom about it.)

Her only advice and guidance for him...is about her excitement knowing that their futures have no set destinations; they've been handed blank tickets at birth to go wherever and make whatever of their lives as they please. Their train tracks don't simply lead a one-way ticket to somewhere so dreary and dooming like that, nowhere that seriously fated at least. :') So in a way, that's her positive outlook on life: to ask her heart where she most wants to go, cause that choice of destination is always open to make or change no matter what happens. Their future's not fated or set in stone. So that belief keeps her hope (and sense of happy, youthful fun) going. ONLY.......her destination became......[something so earth-shattering Beyond his reach] that remembering even fragments of that almost like a dream shifting to a nightmare jolts Vash to wake up (fallen over the bed, shaken and un-grounded--or I imagine, he tried to reach forward to save her from falling, only there's nothing he could do, save for him falling back to reality) with nearly shed tears. :'))

Following THAT whole speech about unset destinations and such, there's some...interesting framing/contrast going on about how the Steamer's treasure vault can't be opened until they reach their destination, and something something...the way BDN forcibly resets their course and speed to reach their destination HIS WAY. (Wanting to speed towards a huge crash at the end to bust open that treasure.) Which in his words, "The best thing for a meager [Dark Horse: 'rotten'] life is an early, glorious death!" Where if it's not flashy, then there's no point! Well then! D: How 'bout that course of life--to go out with Style gee what would he say about Rem's... (So that's the kind of adrenaline 'ticket' BDN chooses to live by, enough that he drags everyone else into it...!)

Ch06: 'Die Hards'

We learn BDN likes gutsy people who meet his flashiest standards (enough that he kills people who're literally true to their word! or who meet their most honorable/'beautiful' end to his liking), that the boy argues he was only here to take care of the ship's defenses (putting everyone to sleep) as his deal to make way for BDN's arrival....and that the ship belongs to kid's father, so he absolutely does NOT agree with BDN's choice of 'end' destination for it!!! D: (also really cool art shift to a sketchy graphite style for how grave of a matter this is for the boy's resolute stance to not destroy the ship.) This display is absolutely not to BDN's liking, so the kid's dangerously pushing his luck towards an untimely death-beating. Kid, you're gonna get yourself killed! (even the other grunts can see that!)

And now I have no clue how Vash made it outside to climb his way up to the bridge (maybe that was the fastest route!) but he makes his cool Big Damn Hero moment arriving just in the nick of time to save the kid from BDN's killing blow, by shooting through the windshield (while hanging upside down!) and swinging in through the broken window with Style~ (also lmao he grabs some of the grunts' guns to keep those guys back using his other hand) He keeps his eyes focused on BDN from behind as he beckons the kid over to him, and BDN's sneaky enough to try a reverse shot from behind as more of his goons come in too, that I honestly can't quite tell if Vash actually reacted fast enough to dodge or feign the impact of getting shot to make a big display jumping backwards out the window to escape with the kid. :O His expression next panel (while grabbing the kid who's screaming in confusion) looks like he's fine, like Vash did it on purpose (either way, BDN looks jazzed for more), but then the two of them aren't fine flailing around outside getting pelted by incoming crashing rocks!

MEANWHILE, Meryl & Milly sneakily trap and beat up some goons in the dark to...?! 👀 (Plus, the guy's weird comment probably refers to the scent of a women's perfume or soap nearby, since all they're used to is their sweaty greasy dirty bucket suits, hah. :P)

Back 'safely' inside, Vash and the kid's interactions are so goofy, like Vash is annoyed and sassing how the kid's kind of an ungrateful brat :P (drilling him some manners to say thank you!) But when he learns the Steamer's on a crash course towards Doom, and the kid starts moping in regret for what he's done to his father's dream (selling the ship to BDN for some quick cash, for things to have ended up like this...) with some self-depreciating, shameful, almost fatalistic ways of thinking (when the kid is actually quite skilled/talented)...Vash butts in both berating and motivating the kid to keep his (their) head in the game in times like this. Cause it's not over yet (their 'destination' can still be changed!) and they've still got a job to do--to try and save/stop the ship! Schooling your spirits to stay strong (determined!) and focused on task to survive...that's basically the reassuring ~vibe~ Vash gives off here. :'3

Ch07: 'Rem'

Interesting how BDN has plans to bail early from the ship before it meets its 'end' rather than going down in a glorious bang along with everyone in it....(hmm hmm, curious Rem contrast~)

Vash makes his way thru the ship taking out goons as he goes, while the kid helps him navigate the fastest route after commandeering the ship's communications room. Eavesdropping on everything happening while relaying the safest directions to Vash thru his special pen-earring radio receiver (old lost technology!! so it seems his earring does serve a practical purpose besides cosmetic) EVENTUALLY though, it seems BDN cleverly figures all this out, enough to lead Vash right into a trap (ambush) waiting for him inside the bridge. The boy had warned Vash not to underestimate the gang--or all of humanity for that matter, as tricks and betrayals like this are all-too common. (So did the kid know this? and lead Vash right into this trap despite his trust? Or was it all BDN's doing and the kid's innocent. Either way, there's something interesting to be said here about who you can trust.)

But one of the biggest takeaways this chapter is that Vash isn't perfect. As even he can slip up to mistakenly shoot more damage than he intended, enough that he gets shot/injured too. :') But in classic Vash fashion, he's more worried about the other guy he shot (he's not about to let anyone die), rather than tending to his own wound. He chooses to take care of others before himself. But the kid berates him for this, how this kind of irrational 'hero' behavior is only going to get himself killed if he keeps this up.

BUT STILL, even if Vash concedes he looks rather foolish/pathetic at this stuff (hmmm those self-pity/depreciation vibes...) he stresses he still does all this (protects life) as a promise to Rem. It's because of her that anyone on this planet is still alive, so he's going to do everything in his power to ensure her legacy faithfully lives on too. (So her sacrifice for humanity isn't in vain...) That even if mistakes happen, you can still turn things around and start over again to change the course (destination) of your life. Reiterating Rem's very same words/advice to him we saw from his dreams--preaching her belief like a mantra to call forth morale: their 'tickets to the future are always blank.'

Ch08: 'Duelists'

I see this is where Vash's coat gets pelted full of bullet holes! (tattered coat tail aesthetic incoming~) Standing firm in the face of the showering onslaught. The boy gets caught too (so looks like yeah, his directions to Vash were innocent) that BDN commends how far their little ragtag team's gotten, but....tsk tsk "reality isn't so beautiful." OHHHHHH---god, cause remember the whole dreams vs reality thing back with Rem? About which one's idealistic and beautiful vs the one that's terribly harsh and dry?? Aaaa, cause Vash already knows (and feels) living this harsh 'reality' at his core, despite how much he chooses to believe in Rem's dreams too. :')) So he can't be about to die here, is he!?

But what's this? Just when you might've forgotten about the girls, SURPRISE!! Once again they come as (disguised) reinforcements to Vash's aid! 8'D Derringer Meryl & Stungun Milly to his rescue again~ (Just like in the first arc!) Breaking the tension. Hah, it's funny how Meryl 'reminds' Vash to be his 'kind, responsible, peace-loving' adult self again :P to focus his timely priority on stopping the ship. Like she's the one nagging him this time to keep his head in the game, while also announcing his title to everyone else in the entire room. (?! whoa was that wise? now especially BDN knows who he is.)

Curiously, the only thing BDN wants to confirm about him is whether Vash is truly the one responsible for July's destruction, and if so, how did he manage that feat without leaving any bodies/corpses behind? (Oho, and Vash wonders if he's asking for the sake of any lost family...interesting empathetic approach. 👀) But here we see that Vash doesn't know, cause he doesn't remember anything (oop, amnesia~) aside from the debris... Our mysteries still stand. But I like how BDN kinda...takes this as a word of honor, man-to-man kinda deal, promising Vash's request to stop the ship if Vash wins their duel....right outside on the deck!

~Fancy moves~ though, because upon the start of the coin toss, Vash moves behind some flying rocks to shoot and destroy BDN's hidden shoulder guns (his dynamos)...only, ulp! That movement only rips open Vash's previous gut wound. Which BDN notices. Enough that he shoots away any more rubble from crushing Vash (sparing him) as he collapses. Apparently, Vash risking it all even while not at full strength, was enough for BDN to appreciate and honorably concede defeat. Vash's 'flashiness' wins BDN's approval~ ...But the accelerating and dangerously overheating ship still needs to be stopped!!! D:

Ch09: 'Between Wasteland and Sky'

lmao at Meryl grumbling she wants some extra indulgent job compensation to buy herself a fancy prada purse after all this trouble~ ...To listing more and more fancy indulgent things as their situation just goes from bad to worse. :'D IF they can make it out of here alive in one piece without the ship exploding!!! Hah, so shall the ship explode first or fall & crash into the upcoming ravine....even those stakes make Vash's gut-wound hurt all over again~ :P He jokes, he jokes, but still...his wounds close up pretty fast without any obvious...patching up required, even the boy notes that's kinda odd--is Vash really ok? 👀

Still, the Steamer has problems that need to be resolved in two places for stopping it to effectively work. (Basically manually releasing the pressure valve for the brakes, and containing/cutting off the engine's power from overloading the Plant.) The boy wants to take responsibility for allowing this--and the deaths of the ship's crew on his hands, to happen (interestingly, Vash watches all this silently with a knowing look 👀) so even alongside the distrustful crew, the boy's off to take care of one problem the only way he can, while Vash is off to 'babysit' an unruly/selfish 'little girl' from throwing an explosive tantrum~

God, we see some our first up-close Plant fuckery explained--as in a power plant (not leafy garden variety plant, although geo-plants that make greenery for terraforming are a variety shown later in this volume) much like a nuclear reactor or generator, that's able to create things (energy, resources, matter) in a way that surpasses all known physical law. But they're a species of organic creature, harnessed as lost technology, such that no one really understands how they work, and the biggest spooky thing is how they resemble 'the messengers of god' 👀👀 like biblical angels taking feminine form in full body horror glory, while humans are basically co-dependent on these mysterious Plants to even survive on this planet! Whew!

Anyway Vash looks resolutely and suspiciously calm despite all the screaming noise and imminent, critical danger...👀 and also interestingly yes, he refers to the Plant as a 'her' - as a sister with personhood (opposed to an 'it') he treats just as gently as he would any other human in pain or distress. :')) I remember when I first read this part, I was so curiously, morbidly spooked and hooked like 👀👀👀 wondering what in the world Vash even is. What is he even doing!!! Especially with the teasing flare of wings like he's an angel, able to calm down and resonate with such a creature in ways beyond our understanding~ He said he could only 'hold' her for another 4mins, which looks to be temporarily suspending both their heartbeats & breathing rates in tune, almost like within in a trance.

But even with the Plant contained and the brakes finally engaged, it might not be enough to stop in time! GUESS WHO comes in clutch keeping his promise to Vash: BDN himself, ramming his car into the side of the Steamer's hull, to smash it into the side of the canyon just in time before falling off the cliff. So interestingly, all 3 guys--the kid (who almost burned himself), Vash (stopped his heart to contain a nuclear meltdown), and BDN (willingly crashed his car) all made some bold, risky, self-sacrifice plays to cooperatively bring the ship to a halt. :'D (In Stampede, it took the 3 combined roles of Vash, Meryl, and Wolfwood staying on board with some risky moves to stop the ship together too.) Woohoo!! Their course's final destination had been changed~

Ah! Now just how sweet and symbolically fitting it is, that the ending notes to this whole disaster close off with Rem's song. :')) Sung under a wide open sky... Somehow, even the young boy knows of it, that hearing it again moves Vash to tears. Cause he feels he more closely understands her core belief now, about what it means for people to go on living with hope for the future, after seeing it directly play out (and succeed) from this whole experience. Their 'tickets' on the Steamer's doomed course could be changed, with the help of people choosing to come together and work to survive this. :') Humanity can do it, and Rem traded her life believing that they could, for the chance that humanity could even have that hopeful 'blank ticket' for the future too. And I feel I better understand now, the significance of Rem being introduced in this arc that metaphorically puts her beliefs into practice. So thank you Sand Steamer arc for showing us and Vash more of the way!

[The next arc with the geo-plant mission focuses on Meryl--paralleling Vash, choosing to lead her own 'blank ticket' course in life with greater hope & confidence too! Continued here.]

[did-you-fall-for-a-shooting-star]

ok so this ask is part invitation to ramble/infodump about chemistry stuff and part ask abt why u chose/enjoyed chemistry as ur major (pls idk what to do with my life lol. i like chemistry but idk if its enough to do it like as a career yknow?)

HELLO ANON YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU HAVE JUST ASKED FOR

Okay. For starters I actually didn’t go into college with the intent of being a chemist. My original major was secondary education with a focus in chemistry. Aka I wanted to teach high school chem. And that was because of my high school chem teacher, he was amazing and inspired me. I felt like I learned so much in his classes and I wanted to be like him and inspire others

Obviously thats not the route that ended up happening

Throughout my first few years, I got really involved in the chemistry clubs on my campus (ACS, GSE, etc). There was a lot of community in the chemistry department and thats where I made a lot of my friends too. I had people to study with and we helped each other, there wasnt a lot of competition. Once we got to o chem we were all just trying to survive lol.

Meanwhile, in the education department, over the years I grew more and more critical of it. It felt very cold and inhospitable. I barely knew my classmates. It felt more like a job in that it just kinda wore me down. And dont get me wrong! I LOVED my kids. I loved the actual teaching part. It was amazing. I made it all the way to student teaching because of my love for those kids. BUT. After covid hit. The education world got weird. It got too political. Its not about the kids anymore, its about doing whatever administration says. And I just couldnt take it.

A month before I would have graduated, I switched my major. Admittedly, it had been something I was thinking about since my junior year. I had taken analytical and environmental chemistry the same semester and really felt like I found my niche. (Please note here: there is no chemist who is good at all types of chemistry).

I ended up taking a 5th year to finish out a chemistry degree and get a math minor as well. I was really nervous about that decision, but that last year made me feel so much more sure of myself. I took a third analytical class, quantum mechanics, and inorganic chemistry (among other things like biochem). I learned I was *really* good at those things (unlike biochem Im lucky I passed that one). And now I have a job. Doing some instrumental work and data analysis

So I guess my decision to go into chem in the first place is just because the teacher who inspired me happened to be teaching me chemistry (though I was always a fan of science at heart)

As far as liking it enough to make it a career… well… I’ve discovered that I dont think I’m personally going to like anything for 40 hours a week for the rest of my life. And thats probably because Im out of an academic environment now, but yeah. My goal is to be able to have a chemistry job part time. Because full time just kinda makes me dread it. And Im lucky to have things in the works that might let that come to fruition in the next few years, butttttttt. Thats more of a critique on society as a whole than specifically chemistry

[authorautumnbanks]

How To Tame A Sorcerer (38)

Series Master list

Kagome lies there, one leg thrown over Satoru, her arms wrapped around him tightly. There's a bit of drool on his chest and she grimaces in horror. Thank goodness he's still fast asleep, or she'd never hear the end of it. She peeks up at him under her lashes. He once told her that his body doesn't actually need rest because of some healing technique, reversal something. She was half-listening when he dove into his lecture.

"Coffee," she mumbled, sitting upright. She runs her fingers through the wild mane of hair and fiddles with the ends. She should find a salon sometime for a trim, Satoru offered, but respectfully she had to decline. The man gave Yuji-kun a bald spot in the back. Yawning, she leaves the comfort of his embrace and the lure of more sleep.

"Come back," Satoru rasps out, his voice heavy with sleep. He reaches out for her, his lips downturn.

"We're looking at a house today," she replies, slipping on her robe. "We need food before we go. Any requests?"

"Yeah, one." He opens his eyes, turning on his side. "You."

Temptation licks at her veins, but someone has to be the adult if they are going to get anything done today. "How do you get anything done?"

"If you'd come back to bed, I'll show you."

"C'mon, you can help me in the kitchen." She tugs his arm. He could easily pull her onto the bed, so she beams when he allows her to pull him along to the kitchen. "Sit," she instructs. "Yuji-kun texted me last night. Nobara and Megumi want to visit the fox hotel." She starts the coffee machine and pulls out ingredients from the fridge.

"So that's how it's going to be." Satoru props his chin up with his palm. He's dressed down in gray sweatpants and nothing else.

Kagome places a mug of fresh coffee in front of him. "How's what going to be?" She pours herself a cup, lets out a sigh as the sweet caffeine hits her tastebuds.

"The kids don't get the answer they want from me, so they go through you." Satoru drinks from his cup, eyes lower as his lips break out in a content smile.

"That's normal. You raised Megumi, so I'm sure a part of him sees you as a dad figure." She chops the onions and bell peppers and then deposits the knife into the sink.

"You want kids, Gome-chan?"

Kagome cracks an egg, letting the sound of the egg frying wash over them. "I wouldn't mind having one."

"Okie doke," he says.

"Nothing else to add?" She sets the omelet down in front of him and hands him his utensils. She goes back to making her own meal, humming a Shippo-chan's favorite lullaby.

"I don't mind if they're with you." He winks at her as he takes a bite. "You could be a stay-at-home mom."

"You just don't want me fighting." She snorts, taking a seat next to him. "Nice try though." It's not the first time he's tried the whole stay-at-home thing. If you ask her, he attracts just as much danger as she does.

"Well, that's normal," he throws back at her, "what man wants his wife in danger." Kagome squints her eyes, places her palm on his forehead. He doesn't feel feverish. "What'cha doin?"

"Checking for a fever. You know we aren't married."

"Let's elope today, then take an extended honeymoon."

"Before meeting your parents?" Kagome chastises. Not that she is against marrying him - she agreed to stay in this world for him, but there are some steps that they just shouldn't skip.

"Never knew em. The Gojo elders and servants raised me. More like they did whatever I said, but semantics," he says so matter-of-factly as though they were discussing the weather.

Kagome drops her chopsticks, reaches across, and pulls his head down until he's nestled between her breasts. She runs her hand through his hair. It's no wonder he's so touchy-feely. Being raised in such an inhospitable environment and his infinity keeping people at bay.

"So, is that a yes?" He asks in a hushed tone.

"We'll see." She presses her lips to his temple, breathing in the lingering scent of his body wash from last night.

"I love it when you do that."

"Kiss you?"

"Yeah, but I was talking about when you massage my face. Helps with the overstimulation." He pulls back. "We should get dressed. Ijichi has the day off too, so we can either call a taxi or take the train. I could teleport us, but..."

"That's fine, I actually like taking the trains." She stands, gathering their dishes. "I'm going to clean these before we go." She waits until his footsteps get further away before allowing her mind to ruminate on their conversation.

A normal couple wouldn't have moved in together on day one or had clans to worry about. If his clan is anything like that Naoya person, then she could do without interacting with them. She's been so good lately. She has kept her cool, not let her temper get the best of her in like... well, long enough. Baby steps, she reminds herself. Meeting a bunch of men stuck in the past would surely tempt her to hand out a couple of slaps.

She takes the towel from her shoulder and dries off the dishes. If Satoru wants her to marry him, then he better get down on one knee and ask properly.

There is no way that this house is reasonably priced. Kagome eyes the large stainless-steel refrigerator, already daydreaming about how she won't have to make so many grocery runs. But more than that, it's the family vibe permeating in the air that has her feeling some kind of way. Especially after their morning chat about children, but so it's that she misses her family. Even though they left on terms that she would never see them again, the longing crept up and smacked her in the face. They think she's with InuYasha, and all she wants to do is show them the man she never knew she needed. Mom would adore Satoru and his antics, Souta would join in and help with the pranks, and Gramps would have a field day trying to hit Satoru with his ofudas. Kagome snorts at the image.

"Wanna share with the class?" Satoru steps beside her, his hand lingers on her lower back. The heat from his touch seeps through her cotton dress. He enjoys touching her, which she is grateful for because she enjoys touching him, too.

"It is really beautiful," she says, running a finger along the wooden island. They could have breakfast in here and dinner with the kids in the dining room. Or have dinner together upstairs on the balcony under the moonlight. It's too bad that they can't see many stars in the city.

"I'm hearing a but." Satoru removes his hand and leans against the island. His glasses fall down slightly, allowing her a glimpse of his blue eyes. Though simply stating that they are blue almost feels like an insult, with all the different shades swirling around.

"You don't think this is a bit much?" she questions. Kagome actually loves the home, but it has to be expensive - the backyard alone is worth a small car.

"For us? Nah. But if you don't like it, we can look at some other houses."

But he likes it. Kagome huffs and walks out of the kitchen. She gives a small smile to the relator, thankful that Satoru told the man that they didn't need a tour guide. Not that she dislikes the house, she likes the westernized main floor and how the bedrooms are more aligned with Japanese culture. She heads outside, basks under the sunrays. It's supposed to rain later, so she soaks in the warmth as much as she can.

"Was it InuYasha," he pauses, "that hurt you?"

Huh? Kagome whips her head around. Even with his dark shades covering his eyes, she can tell how serious he is by the way his mouth is pressed into a thin line and the way he hides his hands in his pockets. She wets her lips. "I just don't want you to stretch yourself trying to impress me. We can look at more affordable homes or a bigger apartment." She crosses her arms, suddenly feeling as though she is under a microscope. She should have worn a jacket or something with long sleeves than a simple white summer dress.

Satoru chuckles as he rocks back on the balls of his feet. His oversized shirt slips a little, showing off his collarbone and the small hickey she made. He - unlike- her wore something more covered up. Though now that she thinks about it, even when he's dressed casually, he's always wearing something oversized and less form-fitting.

Nevertheless, she is being serious here. No need to go into debt or create more stress for himself.

"What's so funny?"

"You." He gestures to the house. "If money was not an issue, would you buy this house?"

"Yes, but -"

"Gome-chan, I don't know who has made you feel like you were less than, but if I need to shower you in compliments, every single day until you believe you are more than enough, I will." He steps into her space and runs his knuckle down her cheek. "We can compromise and find a home that we both love, but I am not compromising on providing for you."

How he can be sweet and assertive at the same time is beyond her. Koga-kun always hyped her up, but it was always my woman this, my woman that, and not once did he ever take the time out to listen to what she was saying or dig deeper into what she wasn't saying. Hojo-kun may have never boasted about her being his and the gifts he got her while thoughtful. He also never took the time out to listen to her.

InuYasha was well... Kagome leans into Satoru's touch. "You sure you've never had a girlfriend," she jokes.

"Never wanted one."

"Seriously?"

"Guess it took someone from out of this world," he teases. "So...?"

"Yes, I want the house." There she admitted it out loud, not that it matters because, despite his words of encouragement, she's sure that this house is way out of budget.

"Really? We can buy it with the furniture too unless you want to furnish it yourself." Satoru talks a mile a minute, his hands animating his words. "Let's go let the realtor know. I'm thinking sushi for lunch and then heading over to Yakeru's shop."

"Wait... You're actually putting an offer in?"

"... Yeah? You said you wanted the house." He bends down until his nose touches hers. "You worry too much. This won't even make a dent in our account."

"Ours? I don't have an account."

"I added you to mine. Seemed like more work to transfer money all the time." He pecks her lips. "It's okay to be selfish and go for what you want, I do."

Oh, he's smooth.

"Okay." If he says that it really isn't that big of a deal, then she can get past her mental block. "I don't really feel like shopping for new furniture." She trails behind him to give the realtor the news.

"We'll take it all. We'll pay cash today if we can move quickly," Satoru chirps.

She and the realtor look as though they were going to pass out. She takes back all those guilty thoughts of using his money; it wasn't an inconvenience to him at all.

"I will make the call," the man stammers out, tripping over his own feet in his haste.

"Cash, huh?"

"Just tryin to chill with you in that hammock." He pulls out his phone and scowls.

"Are the kids okay?" She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, needing to ease the rising tension. Surely, no one would attack the school that quickly. Though with the students still being a little injured... No, she will not go down that train of thought.

"Yeah, they're fine. We don't have to go until you're ready. Guess word got back, so they have summoned us to the estate."

"Am I going to have to slap some people today?"

"Don't sweet talk me like that, makes me want to forget all about grabbing lunch."

The realtor walks back, smoothing the wrinkles away on his plain black suit. "The owner accepts your offer." He goes to shake Satoru's hand and trips over himself, landing with a loud thud. A groan soon follows, and Kagome hopes that the man did not break his nose from the fall.

"So that's how today is going to go," Satoru remarks, laughing when Kagome slaps his arm. He can be such a menace. Kagome rolls her eyes and helps the man up. "C'mon on Gome-chan." Satoru tugs her hand, leading them out of the house. "Just let us know when to show up," he calls out, not looking back.

"That was rude," she scolds.

"Please, we just made his day. You know what would make my day?"

"Visiting a shrine."

"Yes - no? What?"

"What?" She grins up at him, swinging their intertwined hands.

"Okay, but," he says, holding up a finger to punctuate his next words, "if there's a curse or demon, some new thing. I'm blaming you." Kagome huffs.

"Please, what are the odds of that."

Turns out, the odds of them finding a lingering spirit that was holding onto the living world were so high that they could both see the faint aura before they took one step.

"Don't say it." She holds up a hand, taking the stairs two steps at a time. These were nothing compared to the ones back at the family shrine.

"Special grade at that. The offer to be a stay-at-home wife doesn't expire."

"Shush. I need to concentrate." She places a finger to her lips. The clouds overhead darken, and seriously, who checks the weather and still leaves home without an umbrella?

"Cute that you think I'm letting you fight without your bow."

"Says the man that pushed me in front of a curse without one."

"You gotta stop living in the past, Gome-chan."

"Past me should have made some subjugation beads," she mutters as they reach the last step. "What?"

"You didn't tell me you were into bondage."

"I'm not...," she trails off, squinting at the crowd of people. There should be more noise, chatter, heck, even a whisper of conversations, and yet there's nothing but the rustling of the wind blowing the leaves and Satoru's one-sided conversation. A droplet of rain hits her on the forehead. She walks behind him, noting that his strides are much longer than before.

"Well, shit." He clucks his tongue. She suspects that his six eyes grasped the situation that they were in. "The barrier went up the moment we stepped foot on the grounds." He flexes his hands.

"You can't kill them." A bubble of nausea rises in her throat. More people surround them, their eyes hazed over in a red hue. The sky is still dark and the rain should be falling on them, but it doesn't land a hit. "They're possessed." And the only way to help them is to find the source. Without her bow, she's at the mercy of allowing them to get close in order to purify them. A piss poor strategy for such a large amount of people.

"Just stay close."

She moves closer and pauses when one man convulses. Saliva drips down his face as his limbs twist, and the sound of a crunch hits her in the eardrums. Long hairy legs sprout out from his mouth. She doesn't mean to, but she takes a step back from the sight of a spider forcing its way out of the man's body. Kagome wets her dry lips. The burning sensation of anxiety lights like an inferno. She should have known. Naraku wouldn't have shown himself if he hadn't already started making moves. At least she this seems like something that Naraku would do.

The spider blinks its eight eyes at them, beady and full of interest. The man's body doesn't so much as slink to the floor as it flops down, as though all his internal organs have been sucked dry. "We've been waiting for you," it coos, rubbing its many legs together as though it has found its next meal. It opens its mouth, acid drips down, and lands on the heads of some of the possessed. They don't scream as their bodies melt, not even leaving a trace of bone.

Satoru doesn't speak for once, simply lifts one finger and shoots out an attack. The red blast lights up the dark atmosphere. It filled her vision with red, so she shuts her eyes if only to block out the overly bright light. Hands reach out for her, covering her screams, and pulling her into the crowd. The last thing she sees is Satoru's panicked face as more bodies pile in front of them, and her vision goes dark.

[huntunderironskies]

How would Hunters even find a spirit that does not have the Manifestation Materialize?

Do you mean specifically Hunters in Darkness...? :0c I was assuming that based on the context and the fact I've admitted to being the Hunters in Darkness guy in the few smaller CofD communities I'm in but if you or anyone else want to know about other Tribes give me another ask or just tell me in the comments and I'll reblog this and add on more details! If there's a specific Tribe you want just namedrop one and I'll focus on them.

So Hunters in Darkness are very obsessive about their territory. One of the characters I have (the mentor of the guy in my avatar in fact!) treats her territory as being a packmate in and of itself. Which means by proxy he does as well since he learned from her. This means they're going to be highly attuned to changes that might escape another werewolf. If a spirit's messing around where they shouldn't be (it's not worth chasing down spirits that are just doing ordinary spirit things, they might be kind of terrible at times but you don't want a reputation for being unreasonably heavy-handed) then there will be ripple effects.

If a fire spirit is just going around doing what it should-- hanging around regular fires, maybe strengthening one here and there when it'd be natural to do so, they're not going to care so much.That's the world operating it as it should. It might lead to some eventualities like a person's house catching on fire, but that's just nature taking its course.

But if it's acting out, there's going to be some ecological oddities. Keep in mind a spirit's primary impulse is to spread its Influence. They're not stupid but it's hard to resist a chance to do that because that's how they eat. Way too many arsons going on, fires that go totally out of control too fast, and so on. That's going to be their first clue that something's off if there's a spirit that isn't manifesting or trying to escape to the Flesh at any point.

So, the first complicating thing for the spirit is that werewolves can project their senses into the Shadow and Twilight while still in the Flesh if they focus. This does include their sense of smell which can make tracking easier. The problem is more making sure they can set up an ambush and pin the spirit somewhere it can't as easily fight back.

Resonance is a big deal here, if they can isolate the spirit from its Influences then that means...no Influences. Meaning their biggest power source is cut off. Easy prey from there. Also easier said than done. A good Hunter in Darkness cultivates parts of their territory to be perfect killing fields and that does mean areas where they know that a spirit can't fight back properly due to lack of available Influences.

Splitting up the pack here is potentially viable as a tactic. Irraka can help here as they're consistently advance scouts, and would be able to harry a spirit elsewhere, though I'd argue Cahalith are also a good option. Hunter in Darkness Cahalith are more subtle, they are loud moving targets but less often than other Gibbous Moons. A smart Irraka or Cahalith drives their prey into a better location for the rest of their pack so the Rahu can strike the killing blow. This would be mostly done by hit and run tactics. Ideally you want the target to not feel safe in their usual habitat.

A spirit without the Materialize numen (and Twilight Form by proxy AFAIK) isn't safe just because they can't appear in the material world without crossing over, after all. They have to exist in at least one world, and they might be able to slip through in an area with their Influence being stronger, but that area has to be hospitable to them in that it has the Open Condition, which requires that it is resonant with one of their Influences. This lets a smart werewolf make sure that a spirit is cornered in an area they can't escape (and if they have access to Elements, they can make sure it's inhospitable. This is why Ithaeur can be scary.)

Or they could just use Shadowcall to force the spirit into the material world whether it wants to or not, that's an option that cuts the Gordian knot. Rites are not as flashy as Gifts but they are very useful.