#nothing of value is lost in regards to either of these people though so good fucking riddance

[comradecowplant]

damn, s i o u x e r z was one of my earliest tumblr follows-- she's a thin, conventionally attractive, white (or at least white passing) woman, which made her a big hit with the tumblr gays, & there was a period of time when her pics were everywhere, like the Alex Evens of tumblr lesbians-- so its a bummer to have to unfollow her after all this time, but since she's decided to become a cowardly piece of shit & throw her lot in with the r*dfems, she won't be missed.

so psa for any cryptkeepers like myself who followed her back then & haven't been paying attention to her since she came back.

[partystoragechest]

A story of romance, drama, and politics which neither Trevelyan nor Cullen wish to be in.

Canon divergent fic in which Josephine solves the matter of post-Wicked Hearts attention by inviting invites four noblewomen to compete for Cullen's affections. In this chapter, Trevelyan returns to Skyhold. Permanently.

(Masterpost. Beginning. Previous entry. Next entry. Words: 4,118. Rating: all audiences.)

Chapter 47: Return with the Gift

The Ladies’ time in Val Royeaux had been particularly pleasant—if one glazed over the first few hours—but, like all good things, it was bound to its inevitable end.

Trevelyan and the Baroness watched from the balcony of the latter’s city-centre apartment, as their separate carriages were prepared upon the pristine streets below, under the particular instruction of the ever-efficient Lady Montilyet.

“How do you feel, about returning to Val Misrenne?” Trevelyan asked, as she rested upon the balustrade.

The Baroness could not rest so easily. “I suppose I am… frightened.”

“Frightened?”

“It will not be the same Val Misrenne I left behind. There will be faces missing from the crowd. I do not know how I shall withstand it.”

Trevelyan laid a hand atop the Baroness’. She had never confessed to such fear before. But of course she hadn’t. Hers was not to feel it, but to show resistance to it. And Trevelyan, in her heart, had every faith the Baroness would not succumb. But, at this moment, she needed to know:

“You don’t have to withstand it. Not alone. Your existence need not be self-sufficient, Baroness. There are people who can bear it for you; with you.”

Touledy smiled. “Indeed. Skyhold has been of great value, in that regard. I lived as an island for so many years. The mages returned what hope I had lost, and the Inquisition has seen it fulfilled. I have never... depended, or relied, so much since I lost my family. It is terrifying as it is beautiful.”

Trevelyan recognised the same feeling within herself. “It is.”

“You must come visit, when you may. I am certain Thallia would benefit from meeting a mage so accomplished as you.”

Trevelyan laughed. “From what you have told me, I believe it is I who would benefit from speaking to her.”

“All the more reason for it, then. And, of course, should the Commander ever vex you… you know where you may turn.”

“And allow him to finally have rid of us all? Never! I shall not give him the satisfaction.”

The Baroness quirked an eyebrow. “Shall you not?”

Trevelyan heaved an exasperated sigh, as if she did not thoroughly enjoy the Baroness’ teasing. As if she did not wish to keep it.

“I shall not give you the satisfaction, either,” she chastised. “Besides, I do not think he shall wish to be rid of me anytime soon. In fact, I rather got the impression that he’d like me to stay.”

“Oh, certainly—if the size of the soldiers he was willing to set loose upon your parents is anything to go by.”

Said soldiers were in the street, helping to load the Skyhold-bound carriage, lifting luggage as if it weighed nothing. Trevelyan was almost sorry they hadn’t been set loose upon her parents. Would’ve been a good show.

The Baroness smirked. “What a change in the man, hm?”

“Yes,” Trevelyan sighed. “Though I do not believe I would like him so much had he not so changed.”

“I wonder, then: when did you first like him? At what point of our many misadventures did he become a… prospect?”

Trevelyan thought for a moment. “I believe it was after the duel.”

“Ah. The nobility of defeat?”

“Hardly. Rather, the sight of him bloody, sweaty, and in the process of removing his armour.”

They giggled, at their debauchery; their larks; their repartee. But, joyous as it might seem, it came with a bittersweet taste upon the tongue.

There would be no more moments like this. The Baroness’ carriage was loaded and secured. Her footmen had climbed onto the dash. Val Misrenne called.

“I suppose I should say farewell,” muttered Touledy, shifting onto the support of her cane.

She offered an arm, understated in its invitation. Trevelyan collapsed into it regardless, holding on for dear life. It was as if the world around them was crumbling away, and to let go would be to fall with it.

The Baroness had been the stable ground upon which she had first arrived in Skyhold. She could not bear the thought of no longer having it beneath her feet.

“I love you,” she murmured.

“And I you,” said the Baroness. She parted, but kept her hand in Trevelyan’s. “Take my congratulations, as well.”

Curious, Trevelyan asked, “For what?”

“You won our little competition. Four Ladies came to Skyhold… and only one remains.”

Trevelyan scoffed. “I cannot revel in such victory. It means the departure and loss of three dear friends. I feel no triumph—only misery.”

The Baroness squeezed her hand. “No. I do not wish to cause you misery. Let us part in happiness—and one day, return where we left off.”

Trevelyan nodded. Those were terms she surely could agree to.

“When we meet again,” she said.

“When we meet again,” the Baroness replied.

Their hands broke apart. The moment had come. The sound of a cane echoed away.

Upon the streets, the Baroness climbed into her carriage. Six glorious horses all spurred to life, and a chorus of clip-clopping echoed around the city. A round of applause, for a remarkable woman.

Trevelyan pressed herself against the balustrade, eyes not leaving the carriage. Even as it rolled away, even as the tears blurred her vision. The very same carriage that had brought her to Skyhold now left her, to return to it alone.

And, as it had on that very first day, a long, elegant arm extended from the carriage window. Yet, this time, it waved farewell.

***

A bird soared over the Frostback mountains, a message bound upon its leg, a return heralded on its wing. No map needed guide it, no trail or track. The knowledge was intrinsic. It knew the way home.

A carriage traced the bird’s path, through the wildernesses it had glided over mere days ago, bearing those whose homecoming had been predicted. Within it, Josephine took to her reading, while Trevelyan contented herself with peering from the window.

There were trees on their trail, ancient and knotted, that she recognised. Villages, for which she already knew the inn’s location. Crossroads, for which she could choose the right direction. She knew it. Her way home.

Though she had enjoyed her whirlwind tour of Thedas, Trevelyan could not wait to return. The Dales were pretty and Val Royeaux shone—but none of it could compare to comfort she felt at the sight of those familiar mountain peaks, rising into view.

The snowy ascent was especially recognisable. Memories of the place echoed in her mind: of towering pines, of carriages and horses, of new beginnings.

A watchtower stood—same as it always had—before a mountain pass. Flags fluttered from its crenellations, banners adorned its every wall. The heraldry of the Inquisition. Soldiers within saluted the carriage, onward and through, to the valley beyond.

To Skyhold.

Trevelyan gazed at the castle—majestic crown atop the river’s head—and the camps that rippled out from it. She felt not a drop of the dread which had plagued her upon first seeing this place, for she knew the warmth of its hearths and the safety of its walls, now. There was nothing of it left to fear.

The gates were hauled up in anticipation. The carriage trundled through without hindrance. The courtyard opened out before them; its magic swept up to greet them. Stablehands swarmed the entryway, ready and waiting.

Two long weeks it had been. Yet, when Trevelyan’s foot hit the grass, it felt as if no time at all.

The place still bustled, the trees still bloomed, the birdsong still chimed. The keep remained, stalwart and strong, the same patrols on its battlements as they had left behind. Soldiers yet sparred, swords clashing in the air, accompanied by music, drifting from the tavern.

But there was something yet missing.

Trevelyan surveyed the courtyard, as the staff of Skyhold dispersed. Stablehands tended to the horses; servants, to the luggage. Their numbers depleted, the entryway emptied. Void was left in their place.

Trevelyan had, of course, prepared herself for the pain of realising that the Ladies would not be there, to welcome her home. But that did not nullify it. The pain yet thundered.

A soldier’s guiding hand saw Josephine down from the carriage. She came to Trevelyan’s side, sympathy offered through a touch of the shoulder. Together, they faced the barren courtyard—yet found it suddenly populated. By just one man.

The Commander waited at its boundary. He stood, spine straight, manner regal. Hair all laid, glinting in the sunlight. Mantle swaying, in the gentle breeze.

The sight of him caused Trevelyan to smile. A comfort and warmth suffused her, one she was unaware that she had lacked.

She worried a little, of her looks. Two weeks on the road and she would be nothing so lovely as he. But there was no escaping his attention, nor any time to prepare—for he had seen them, she and Josephine, and already made his approach.

“Arcanist, Ambassador,” he said. “I, ah—welcome back, it’s good to see you. I hope you are well.”

He spoke with a soft smile permanently upon his lips, and an even softer gaze in his eyes. Trevelyan had been away long enough to think she might have imagined such... hints, of some small affection—but here, it seemed, was the empirical proof, painted across his face in the style of a lovelorn artist.

Josephine must have noticed it too, for she cleared her throat, and asked with volume: “Have you any news on the Inquisitor?”

“Ah, yes,” he sputtered, remembering himself. “The Inquisitor has returned, though we are waiting on further word. Seeker Pentaghast’s party arrived a few days ago.”

“Good. Then I should schedule a meeting.”

With an excuse to remove herself from the conversation provided, Josephine bade them both a brief farewell, and left in the direction of the keep—no doubt intending to set upon her work like a voracious hypocrite. Perhaps they ought to create a convoluted romantic web to entangle her within as an overdue method of temperance.

Of course, such scheming thoughts existed merely to distract Trevelyan from the fact that she was alone with the Commander, and it had been a while since that had been the case, and she was extremely out of practice in the matter.

“Were the roads… good?” he asked.

Perhaps he was out of practice, too. “What?”

“Your journey—was it all right?”

“Oh.” Trevelyan smiled. “Yes, thank you—especially thanks to the retinue you provided. They were of great reassurance, during our travels.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m glad to hear it. And are you all right?”

That ought to have been a difficult question to answer. Trevelyan had forsaken the guardianship of her parents—what had been, for good or for ill, her last bastion in a time of crisis. And true enough, the fear that without them, she would be cast adrift should her life crumble again, still lingered in some form.

Yet Trevelyan felt no sense of regret about her decision. As frightening as it might be, that was part of the bargain. One could not be brave, without fearing first.

Ultimately, though a difficult choice to make, it was the correct one. Because as she admired the land of Skyhold—its warmth; its beauty; its homeliness—she could think of no reality in which she should prefer her parents to this.

Her gaze returned to the Commander. (Or that.)

“It may take time to adjust,” she admitted, “but I believe I will be. Quite all right indeed.”

“I’m glad. I trust they won’t trouble you further?”

Trevelyan shook her head. “Even if I were worth the trouble, they have been made well aware of the consequences of defying my wishes. I think they are fools—but I do not think they are foolish.”

“Hm. From what I have heard of them,” he murmured, “they do not sound like great intelligences—so we shall remained prepared, regardless.”

Trevelyan chuckled. “Thank you, Commander.”

“Of course. But, forgive me—I am keeping you; I should allow you to settle in.”

“No, no!” said Trevelyan. She edged closer, to speak quieter. “I wished to ask… how are you? Physically? I haven’t asked since… before the banquet.”

It took him a moment to catch her meaning, and the generic answer he had prepared fizzled in his mouth. Instead, he confessed to her the truth:

“I’ve been well enough, thank you. Only a few headaches… though, I suppose they have been more from the work, than the lyrium.”

“Well, we can’t have that either way. Without the Ladies to distract you, I fear you might do a little too much of working, Commander.” A smile crept across her face. “We shall have to do something about it.”

“Yes, that would be—I would be grateful, thank you.” His fumbling pleased her greatly. “And you—you will need company, without the Ladies, as well, I should imagine.”

Trevelyan had not considered herself yet. How lonely her mornings might be, without the Ladies to take tea with. How quiet her nights might be, with no gossip to keep her awake.

“Oh, yes,” she muttered, “I suppose so.”

“Forgive me, I didn’t mean to—” He cut himself off, a self-frustrated crumple forming in his brow.

Trevelyan offered a smile, the best she could muster. “We shall have to spend some time together, then. To account for the absence.”

“Whatever you require.”

Trevelyan thought of what the Baroness might say to that, and smiled proper.

“Thank you, Commander.”

“Yes, Arcanist”—he dipped to bow, but stopped short—“should I..?”

“No, no—save your back, Commander. I am no longer a Lady, therefore there is little use for such formality. We shall have to find another way of saying farewell.” She had some ideas, but none appropriate. “The word itself may have to do—and variations thereupon. So, with that, Commander, I suppose I shall simply have to bid you—”

“If we have no need for formality,” he interrupted, “then you needn’t refer to me by my title.”

A little arrow pierced straight through Trevelyan’s heart. She attempted not to show the shock of the strike upon her face.

“Ser, then? Ser Rutherford?” she wondered.

“Cullen,” he told her.

“Ser... Cullen?”

His lips curled into a smile. “If you prefer.”

“No, no—if you, your preference, Commander.”

“‘Cullen’ will do.”

“Yes”—she braced herself—“Cullen.”

She could not even look at him as she said it. It felt forbidden.

“Thank you.”

A discomfort squirming around inside her, Trevelyan felt the sudden urge to be anywhere else. The air here was tense, and thick, and had begun to tamper with her breathing.

“We shall speak later, then, Com—Cullen,” she blurted.

He smiled. “Yes, Arcanist.”

That was as good a farewell as they would have for now. The two separated, each bound for an opposing end of the castle. Trevelyan slipped beyond the bounds of his periphery, and stole back the breath that had abandoned her. Bravery filling her lungs, she dared a simple peek, over her shoulder, to catch one last glimpse before he truly left.

Her eyes met his. For there he stood, at a distance, peering out from behind his own shoulder. There was the barest hint of a smile upon his face. It reflected upon hers.

But—there was work to do. Trevelyan’s attention returned, best it could, to Skyhold. Cullen, Cullen, Cullen. The name rolled around in her mind.

No, no! There remained an afternoon to be had, and there was plenty to do within it. The siren song of the Undercroft called, and Trevelyan could hardly refuse to answer. She had news of her permanence to share, and people with whom she wished to share it!

Though she didn't have to search for long to find them.

“Hey!” came a yell, from above.

Trevelyan’s eyes trailed up the keep’s stepped approach, and saw upon its landing, staring back at her, the grinning faces of Dorian, Herzt, and—

“You staying!?” shouted Dagna.

Trevelyan laughed. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be!”

All cheered, even Herzt. Dorian beckoned her up the staircase. “Come on, come on!” he bellowed. “We’ve got something to show you, and I shan’t be made to wait!”

Trevelyan cackled, and took the stairs two-at-a-time. She reached their little congregation, and was swallowed immediately into its embrace.

“What am I to see?” she asked.

Dagna grabbed her hand. “Undercroft! C’mon!”

Trevelyan barely had time to acknowledge the Great Hall around her, as the giddy band dragged her toward the Undercroft door. Down the stairs she was hurried and pestered, stumbling out into the cavern proper.

The smell of forges and the thrum of magic filled her up and made her whole. Familiarity, she was certain, could cure her any ill.

“Here, here!” Dagna said, pulling her towards the laboratory. “Close your eyes.”

Trevelyan did as instructed, hearing shuffling and whispers in the dark around her. Footsteps. A few worrying clanks. Then the order, to open her eyes once more.

“Here you are!” Dagna announced, arms shooting out towards Herzt. Trevelyan followed their direction.

Within Herzt’s palms lay a beautiful, intricate mage’s staff of smooth, shining mahogany, with a focus of burning reddish glass. Striking—but no answer to the questions Trevelyan had.

“What is this?” she asked.

“It’s yours,” Dorian said.

“What?”

Dagna tempted her forward, and Trevelyan crept closer. Maker, it was no less impressive on more intimate inspection.

That fine wood—a sturdy shaft—had been engraved with elegant symbols which Trevelyan did not recognise as runes. The focus, cradled at the pinnacle, swirled and hummed with the latent glow of magical potential. A blade, sharp, glinted at the end, smelted and forged for finesse and strength.

An approving nod from Dagna, and Trevelyan dared take hold. The moment Herzt released it into her fingers, she felt its power connect. Heat. Raw, burning energy—coursing just beneath the surface. An enchantment of fire.

“Do you like it?” Dagna asked.

“It’s incredible,” Trevelyan breathed.

“I’m glad. I had a little help sourcing the materials, you see”—she pointed to the focus—“that was sent specially, by glassmakers in this little Fereldan town, called Coldon. You might have heard of it.”

Trevelyan smiled.

Dagna pointed to the wood. “This was brought back by the Inquisitor—a gift from Val Misrenne.”

“I heard their leader uses the same wood for her own canes,” the sly Dorian added.

“And these”—Dagna traced a few of the symbols engraved—“are Dalish. It’s a saying, ‘Home is where I find my strength’. Or—something like that. I think the literal translation is ‘home is strength’.”

The difference mattered little in that moment. Trevelyan closed her eyes, as the tears welled. She held the staff close. Little pieces of them, to be carried with her.

“And the enchantment was done by yours truly, of course,” Dagna said at last, indicating both herself and Herzt.

“I’m here for the glory,” Dorian quipped.

Trevelyan laughed, and sniffled. “It’s lovely,” she said. “Thank you so much.”

“Well, pretty embarrassing for the Undercroft if our new Arcanist doesn’t even have a staff,” Dagna teased. “Now you can show ‘em what we can do.”

“Speaking of which,” Dorian said, placing his hands upon Trevelyan’s shoulders and peeking around her side, “do you want to test it?”

There was a glint in his eye that reflected in hers. Trevelyan grinned.

“Yes, please!”

They raced out of the room, gathering a herd of excited tagalongs behind them as they went. It was they who’d seen this staff created—so they should want to see it working, too!

The denizens of the Undercroft therefore spilled out into the sunlight, stampeding to the courtyard, and swarming the sparring ring. Dorian hopped the fence, and waved away the duelling soldiers within.

“Urgent business, gentlemen!” he told them. “The Undercroft needs a stage!”

Perhaps too green to argue, the soldiers cleared as asked. Dorian presented the space with a flourish of his hand, and Trevelyan eagerly entered.

“It’s been a while!” she warned her spectators, striding for the centre. “You might want to take a step back!”

Dorian made haste; the rest heeded her warning. Trevelyan swept her eyes around, and smiled.

“Further!”

Her audience, together, retreated another step. All, at least, except for one smith, who missed the instruction, and had to be quickly hauled out of the way.

Trevelyan laughed. Satisfied, she held out the stave. Mind calming, body focusing, she recalled the old patterns they’d taught her in the Circle. Time to see if they still worked.

She swung the staff through the air, swirling it around her head. Fade, drawn to her magnetising force, was gathered up in the movement of her focus. It concentrated the energy; she pulled it taut. And once she felt it peak—

Trevelyan slammed the staff, blade-first, into the ground, turf kicking up. Glowing lines unfolded outward; they turned, interconnected, wove. A sigilic pattern of runes, thrumming with energy, widening out, to the edge of the ring. Primed and primal.

She released her staff. The runes erupted.

Gouts of flame, over twenty feet tall, shot upwards like geysers. So bright and burning, Trevelyan was not visible within them—but within them she stood, smiling, arms wide. In control.

And as soon as she bade it, the flames deceased.

Trevelyan laughed, and clutched her new staff to her chest. Dagna cheered to see its successs; Dorian glanced at a still-smoldering patch of grass.

“You missed a bit,” he teased, dispelling the last flickers with a simple wave.

“Mercy, please!” Trevelyan countered. “It’s a lot more power than I’m used to.”

“You bet your ancestors it is!” Dagna grinned, ear-to-ear. “How do you feel?”

Trevelyan thrust the staff into the ground. “Like a mage.”

No more hiding parts of herself away. She was whole now, complete—and proud to be.

Though she had forgotten something. A key factor of being a mage, in fact: the idea that mages were, and always would be, in some kind of trouble.

“Excuse me!” shouted a heavily-plated soldier (big pauldrons, at least a Captain), who marched up to their little celebration.

“What seems to be the matter?” asked Dagna.

“Mage training is in an hour,” he instructed, glaring down at them. “My soldiers need the ring.”

A group of said soldiers stood meekly off to the side; the same ones Dorian had shooed away earlier. Perhaps instead of teaching them combat, they ought to be taught conflict management, so they could ask the big scary mage for the ring back themselves.

Dorian shrugged. “It was just one spell.”

The Captain scoffed. “We’ll see how the Commander feels about ‘just one spell’.”

He turned as if to stomp away, to find the Commander and get him to tell off the big scary mage—but one of his soldiers interrupted:

“Um, Ser?”

She pointed to the battlements above, and a silhouetted figure stood atop them. Hands leant upon the parapet, a faint smile upon his face, the Commander seemed to be quite aware of the situation already.

The Captain gestured to him, indicating the Undercroft rabble, then throwing his hands up in exasperation. Cullen waved this away, with a shake of his head. The Captain rolled his eyes.

“Fine,” he muttered, returning to them. “Just one spell. Don’t let me catch you doing this again.”

“Of course not, Ser!” Dagna said, with a grin.

The Captain looked like he almost believed her, but—no. He simply shook his head, and went on his way.

“Well, I suppose we’d better come back in an hour and see what else you can do,” Dorian whispered. “Fancy a spar?”

Trevelyan giggled. “I’ll roast you alive, Pavus.”

“Ooh! Sounds exciting.”

“Just don’t break it,” Dagna warned, “I’m not etching all those runes again!”

“I promise I will care for it like an injured baby bird,” Trevelyan reassured her.

Dorian cocked an eyebrow. “And you roast people with baby birds as well?”

“Over a spit, until perfectly crisp.”

They laughed, mirthful and pleased with their success. But the fun had to be over sometime—and the dwellers of the Undercroft would need to return to work. Someone had probably left at least one phial bubbling over with a dangerous liquid.

So off they went, filing up the steps, back into the keep. Trevelyan glanced over her shoulder, to at least offer the Commander—or, Cullen, rather—a smile in thanks.

But he was already gone.

A thought stumbled into her mind. One she hadn’t considered for so long.

I wonder if he’ll mind a mage.

[doubleddenden]

Enough time has passed that I think I can do an accurate full scale review for Indigo Disk.

My initial first impressions review of 6/10 was spot on, even with the post game mechanics and additional story.

More under the cut, beware of major spoilers

Story

What's here is fine, but flawed. It is way too short, even with the extra doodads, and not enough time and energy went into it.

Since this is a continuation of Teal Mask, I was expecting to run into some of Kieran's former bullies or to meet a certain Pokémon on his team, or at least see more instances of him being a jerk to other students, but besides a couple of instances there's not really a lot going on here to build him up.

Same with Carmine. You battle her once and that's it. I was hoping to have some kind of introspection with her, maybe she's a victim of a Mean Girls scenario and that's why she became a tad bitchy, but at best she's just worried about her brother and along for the ride.

Terapagos is supposed to be the star of the DLC- literally named The Treasure of Area Zero, but he barely had screen time besides 1 very amazing boss battle. I fear this is another anime Zygarde situation.

Briar basically did nothing besides be a little reckless. Literally if she were removed from the plot, nothing of value would have been lost. She's essentially just a red herring they through out thinking they were clever for tricking us into thinking she was the big bad or at least a bit more important, but in actuality she was just a let down all around. I can't help but feel like they had something bigger planned but scrapped it.

Not to mention the loose ends still left behind regarding Area Zero and the book. Yes I did that extra scene, and honestly it just confuses me further, so I assume we have to wait until the "epilog" is released.

Still, a half assed "paradoxes are from other timelines" was the only answer we got about how Paradox Pokémon got to Area Zero before the time machine. Not the professor or someone else bootstrap looping by sending Pokémon to the past to purposely plant seeds to ensure they come to AZ, just a very tissue paper strength answer.

We still get nothing about the mysterious symbols, the strange metals, the crystal tree, nothing is really answered and it's probably just the result of a room of writers at Game Freak patting themselves on the back and saying "we like mystery :) we did good!" Well, sorry, no you didn't.

This gives me Lost vibes and The Promised Nederland vibes. The Promised Nederland vibes in the sense they built this amazing potential in the base game- season 1 of you will- filled with mystery and intrigue, but then tried to either ignore or half ass things in Season 2- The dlc. Lost comes into play because I honestly think they had no intention of truly explaining anything and had no real clear cut end game in mind except to get people hooked. Like I'm nor asking for a Legends Paldea where we explore the depths with Heath- okay I do want that but I'm not asking right now- I would have been very, very satisfied if there were at least more journals and entries or pages that explained things. As it is now, though, it just won't happen.

And maybe I'm wrong and the epilog will fix everything and give us the answers I seek, but I sincerely doubt it.

At least what's here is passable enough. I like the BBE4 and Drayton is a loveable piece of shit. I still hate that Lacey confirms Clay fucked though. No Elesa is not her mom, that's fake info.

I miss Carmine and Kieran and hate that they're just gone as of now.

BBQ quests

Tedious. Tedious and monotonous. I don't want to play multi-player and I don't have friends with Nintendo Online and DLC to play with, nor the bandwidth. Why am I being punished for that? The quests are fine but you have to do them for several fucking hours to get anything worth it out of the deal.

Coaches

I like the idea and love all the different interactions here and there. The rematch teams are updated, too, but unfortunately remain single battles, so they're pretty easy in comparison to the rest of Indigo Disk. I did have trouble with some after changing out my party for weaker pokemon, but it was never a critical danger moment except for Hassel.

I will say, I love the implications of some of the dialog. Tulip and the school nurse are just very lesbians for Dendra, Saguro and Kofu radiate General Armstrong and Sig handshake energy, and Geeta is trying to recruit everything with a pulse to join the Elite 4.

It's this level of heart I wish they bothered to put into the base DLC.

What I hate is that it costs so much to rotate them around to get gold borders. It's necessary to do something special apparently- but btw the last 3 slots are story locked until the Epilog drops. Yaya future content, boo withholding content.

Oh and they fixed Geeta's team. Her new ace is actually terrifying.

New Pokémon

Fantastic all around. Archaludon is fun af to use, Hydrapplin fixes what I dislike about Dipplin, the paradoxes are all neat, Terapagos's Stellar form is beautiful and powerful as hell, great all around.

Music

I think we're in Sonic territory where the quality of games goes down but the music just keeps getting better and better. No flaws, love the Unova love! It even fixes Ed Sheeran's Celestial imo- a song kinda shoved in that has nothing to do with Pokémon except maybe to trigger content flags on YouTube.

The remix by Toby Fox actually has elements of music from Scarlet and Violet, it's chill overall, and the lyrics actually sort of kinda have context now? Rinse and Repeat makes it sound relevant to the cycles of bullying and the paradox plots as a whole, and Kieran's spiral actually fits it. Overall a vast improvement.

Difficulty

Guys, it is refreshingly difficult. It's like a dip into Colosseum again with the strategies the BBE4 uses. Drayton actually beat me TWICE. I NEVER lose. The rest were easier, but still required a bit more thinking than "press A to win."

The only downside is that it is sort of a snowball effect. Initially it might be difficult to overcome, but you will gain levels very quickly, which of course diminishes challenge. I'm not joking when I say that the team I went in with, roughly late 60s to 70 by the time I caught them all, are now ALL level 100, which is the quickest I've ever gotten a completely fresh team to it.

Customization

I said it before but it's just lacking. The new uniforms look better than most of the others, come in more varieties, and I'll be honest? Feel less fetishy in the l*li and sh*ta direction. I'm still not completely satisfied but I can make it work. New hair still sucks but I do like the new Star glasses and uniform.

I'm just going to say it though, this was definitely a way to cut corners on customization and they should just let us dress how we want again. Too much limitation makes me look like everyone else playing the game. It was dumb but excusable this time, but it won't fly again in the future. Just saying.

Graphics and performance

Let's do it like this:

The good: graphics in some areas, when loaded in, genuinely look up to date and beautiful to look at. The tropical area, savanna, and under depths are very beautiful locations, the classrooms look extremely polished, lots of gorgeous visuals all around, and even older Pokémon have some updated visuals.

I'll also say the Terrarium is just better visually than Kitakami and Paldea.

The bad: performance still sucks ass and Nintendo, The Pokémon Company, and Game Freak should all be fucking ashamed for charging $95 for what is essentially a stuttering mess that struggles not to shit itself at times. Like the GAUL to leave in map flickering in the first cutscene meant to show you how beautiful and vast the Terarium is is astounding. Give back your Award for Excellence until you actually deserve it, you're no longer an indie company and it's time you behaved like it, Game Freak. Absolute shame on you. You've had over a year to fix this and still haven't.

World's richest franchise, people.

Overall

There's plenty to salvage here that makes it fun and engaging, but the same issues have yet to be fixed and the story just refuses to tie up some loose ends that NEEDED to be explored. It's also just CRIMINALLY short, and I actually took my time. What we got is okay but it's not the same quality of story we got for Arven or Team Star, and honestly I feel like it would have been better to save these characters for another game. They padded it out with tedious quests that just get annoying after a while and feel like a punishment, especially for single players.

While I love the idea of old style event Pokémon coming back, I hate that we have to wait to experience something that- heads up- is ALREADY IN THE GAME. That's just stupid imo and would have really helped keep things going.

So yeah, just barely passing at 6/10. Depending on the epilog, that may go between a 4 or 7.

[yuusaris]

Life Update

My ~*Partial Hospitalization Program*~ is over!

TW: cat death, suicidal ideation

To the people who were able to help support me and my family financially for the bit - y'all honest to God got us to my paycheck without a single sweat. It was like breathing fresh air - disability hasn't come in yet and it was a daunting looking week. It was really, truly helpful, every dollar counted, every charge got paid without negatives.

Soooo part of the reason for my program happening - there were a lot of reasons that compounded over the year so far. Y'all might know we lost Hammond at the very beginning of the year, but what wasn't mentioned was that I have a hefty blame on myself for what happened, and I'm not going into details on it. I had a messy falling out with a very dear friend and my bankruptcy filing has not started yet because it's daunting in the face of grief. We also lost our second source of income this year (another falling out and another death), we lost another family member, my job ended up hefting more responsibilities onto me as well as the ones I had gotten away with neglecting and through all of it, I socialized with exactly zero people, zero times about it.

I don't have a family that's very... emotionally intelligent? Problems are met with solutions and pick-me-ups, not with empathy so, it wasn't like I was comfortable speaking with them - my dad distinctly said my suicidal ideations were 'selfish' and we are not on speaking terms at the moment because of it.

I vented to a friend or two, once or twice, but it always came with the idea that I was burdening someone. This perception of myself as a social parasite, draining what I want and leaving people dry, is one that kept me from talking to people I regarded as friends and also kept me from thinking well of myself in public - I realized in my PHP that I attribute my value to the interactions I have with people. Strangers, family, friends, cashiers. If it's a person, they determine my value. So I try to net a positive value as much as I can. Which means "not using people for my own comfort or assurance or entertainment" - the aware people reading this may recognize that as 'an attribute of friendship that friends are there for'. I still haven't gotten around to talking to some of my online friends yet and - I don't have many in real life. I work from home, and left my home state in 2019 to be with my husband and his family, it felt a lot like they were tolerating me because of him. Even though I knew they weren't.

I don't really have any hobbies that aren't something to show off either - I write fic for me, but I haven't posted anything all year because I've had so little investment in my productive hobbies... of which writing is the only one. And when I don't have that I have video games until my eyeballs bleed.

I'm writing this all out to both shake myself of the idea that this is me infodumping in order to "manipulate you all into giving money in the future" (I'm aware I'm not, and I am not), or "make people say nice things about me while I do nothing for them to soothe my ego" (I can want validation/nice things said that make me feel good without treatijng people badly or it being about my value) or "just wanna read my own writing voice" (There's also just - nothing wrong with that??) or any other bad things.

It's just... my blog and my journey and I wanted to level with the people who care about me here about what's been going on and where I'm at and that... I dunno. That I'm a work in progress? And everyone is? And asking for help regardless of from who or what is different from mooching off people because the intent and the care for those people is entirely different and if you're really a burden, they wouldn't help you and I need to get it in my head that I'm just - allowed to talk to people about things that are wrong or sad or just even ask if even online peeps like y'all wanna do online stuff is still - social and allowed to be asked from me and not just of me and - lots of stuff.

And I'm allowed to do things on my own and talk to new people without feeling like a weirdo and a wretch cuz I'm not a weirdo and a wretch and typing and posting that this is how I feel is not guilt-tripping nor is it infodumping because it's my blog and my negative thoughts that aren't true. And I'm allowed to say they're not.

....

I'm gunna be doing an Intensive Outpatient Program starting tomorrow - it's similar, but shorter and less days of the week. By the time I start, disability should kick in, and I might even be able to apply for disability for the work hours I miss. I'll be looking into that on Monday.

In the meantime - I'm making Magic: The Dathering decks again! I'm gunna try to start an indoor garden - I'm embracing possibly becoming a Green Witch, but it's hard to find witchcraft stuff that doesn't refer to God or Goddesses - and deity-on-a-level-above-me worship, I've learned, is... pretty triggering for me, regarding practicing faith. We also got - so, in January, we got our baby Jungle, and in April we got Sandy and Sandy's training to be our ESA, and I wanna talm to taylor about if I can post pictures but the point is, I am a cat mama again, and they make me feel worthwhile in a way that's not about my value but is about my feeling fulfilled.

So - things are looking up! I'm going to more library programs as well, visiting old haunts and getting back into socializing outside but also - maybe online spaces soon as well. Becoming a person again, y'know?

Really - thank everyone, bumpers and likers and doners, for everything. It meant a lot to be able to ask for help and get it and know that I can just... ask people for things, not even money, just.... for help.

Thanks.

[smoothgeometry]

FAQ: Who is The Colonel?

If you've been on the main blog page and not just mobile, I'm sure you've seen the banner up top as well as the blog description, which leads to the obvious question:

Who is The Colonel, exactly?

Well, he's the architect, to a great degree, behind the polycule I RP, and the only character that I write that isn't actually my own.

TLDR: I RP as Jade Curtiss from Tales of the Abyss (a once-popular JRPG from the Tales Of series). There's a lot of odd magic things in his setting that ultimately mess with the fabric of reality, so I don't think that it's a stretch to say it's possible for him to be dropoped somewhere on another plane if someone fucks with magic in just the right way.

With that said, his personal plot is deeply involved with his desire to go "back home" and survive in the universe he's landed himself in long enough to do so. He's done a good job of the latter, but so far, nothing he's researched has worked... well, not yet at least.

While Jade does have a playful side, it's usually to keep others at bay. Underneath the facade of social versatility lies a man whose trust is hard-won. Although he has painstakingly learned the value of others inhabiting the world alongside him, that doesn't mean he has to lie to himself about how competent they typically are. He is the sort of person whom many consider to be their friend, but does not consider many others to be his friend in turn.

Thus, the Garden.

As much as he would like to be an isolationist, that's no way to live. it's not conducive to good mental health, and if he grows to be unable to trust his own mind while he's working towards his goals, all would be lost (so far as he's concerned, anyway).

This blog is called "Smooth Geometry" because the members of the polycule jokingly refer to their group as "The Circle", a play on the phrase "circle of friends". But Jade prefers to think of them as either a petri dish (a "successful" experiment of his own design), or a garden.

The fact is that he vetted and put each of them through the ringer to ...mold them, in a sense. To direct their growth.

Jade would rather not make new friends unintentionally, and having this group satisfy his social (or other) needs severely limits the amount of bullshit or unexpected drama he has to handle. My personal headcanon is that he most certainly is a person with anti-social personality disorder; he's made his mistakes regarding socializing in the past, and gotten to the point where he's figured things out. His coping mechanisms are set, and they aren't the most destructive they could be. Having a specific group of people that he's emotionally involved in both reduces the outside drama he has to invest in (becaues he can't completely avoid it, lol), and gives him a controlled environment within which to indulge in his emotions so far as his personal interest.

Jade was able to make friends even in his source canon, after all. He has a clear grasp for interactions with others and what they entail/what others expect. Trial and error pay off, sometimes!

Anyways, he's gone through quite a bit, and suffered quite a bit more once arriving in this universe during The Great Reveal. He's a soldier and a survivor though, and has plenty of tools in his arsenal, and thus was able to build himself into a cushier life than most. Jade has in fact made a comfortable space for himself here, but that doesn't mean he's given up on potentially getting back home.

The Circle, his polycule, is full of people he loves (or would like to grow to love) in one way or another, but his priorities are still set neatly in order. They are quite carefully picked and cultivated flowers, so far as he's concerned, and he's managed to arrange (or is in the process of arranging) his garden into a peaceful place for himself, bloom by bloom. Jade would never argue that he's a good man, ever, but he can be a consistent partner if nothing else; that's better than most others by a wide margin, he thinks. Does he deserve it? Likely not. But he worked/is working hard to get these people and relationships in juuuuust the right places, and he's going to enjoy the convenience of that as he pleases.

[theonewhopoops]

I think "lean" invokes more "lean times" vibes - as in times with little money or resources. "Starved staffing" I think makes most sense either way haha

Regarding low staffing - part of the reason they keep doing it is that things get done. People do all their tasks (or try to) because they're afraid of getting fired. I had to (politely) yell at my staff for this when I was management. "If you can't do it, tell me. Don't kill yourself for this job. I can't rely on you if you're burnt out, anyway, so don't burn out. You'll live longer, be happier, and I will be less stressed if you're able to take care of even just a few tasks rather than nothing. Stop overworking yourselves."

And guess what. My staff stopped overworking themselves and STILL kept doing their best. They'd leave tasks untouched or half done because they can't do EVERYTHING all at once!! And because I was a good manager who valued my staff, I turned around and relayed this to the boss. "That won't be getting done unless we sacrifice something else. Remember that we were already understaffed by three people BEFORE we lost Ashley, so it's now just me and two staff members. We cannot accomplish all of this without support." And then I moved stores. Same thing. "I will not be asking her to come in on her day off, nor will I be doing so myself. We are spread thin as it is and this will only guarantee poorer performance as we go forward, and makes it more likely she will quit. Then HE will quit when you put the pressure on HIM. And you better believe I can't do any of this alone."

And I got results. We did the tasks we could, remained mentally healthy (though still a bit strained) and we eventually got more staff.

The more you (and your coworkers and bosses) bust ass to please the higher ups, the more it looks like they CAN get by on starved staffing! Why hire anyone else when everyone is still making things run smoothly with 10% of the people they say they need?

Also yeah, basically what I'm describing is a union without the structure or security, so. Take that as you will.

I wonder if work just.. got harder in the 2000s, comparatively.

[2bfreebby]

“A creative person has little power over his own life. He is not free. He is captive and driven by his daimon.” C.G Jung

It calmed me down reading it. I used to somewhat romanticise drifting. I would look at Wong Kar Wai movies and wonder, what it must feel like to just have a job and no ambition. & in my mid-twenties it happened somehow. I was in a place where I just had a job & nothing seemed to be working out creatively so I was just drifting. & I didn’t feel free. I felt lost. my creativity & ambition have always been huge parts of me. things started working out for me when I accepted that maybe I would just have to work a low paid job to have enough time and space needed to make art and music. but I needed to embrace who i was. I’m a songwriter. I’m a singer/ I’m a dancer. I’m a musician. I’m a witch. I’m queer. I’m a woman. any attempts to somehow modify myself or my essence left me feeling drained. I think it’s a good indicator for what fits with your essence. if you feel constantly drained, then it’s not right. saying that, there will be times we must do what is expected of us& be uncomfortable & tired. side-quests help with the main quest. , but only doing side quests will leave you lost. & there is a difference to feeling exhausted vs drained. 

technology nowadays can feel like a draining agent. it’s like being connected to a current & you can either draw from it or it can suck you into it. 

it also feels like an amalgamation of people becoming this 1 person made by the algorithm who is constantly telling you things. & if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that 5 people most close to you will make up a lot of your personality/reality. but it freaks me out that this person isn’t trained to be a good person, it’s trained to sell you stuff in a World that has limits. 

there are limits to any mothers. I think about the limits of Mother Earth often. I cannot deny that there is a part of me that is a consumer. a version of me that gathers what I need & I can’t tell anymore if most of her decisions are influenced or not.

aren’t we all pillars of walking water? a part of a wave? I sometimes think of myself as a droplet of water in the ocean with my closest 5 people my closest other droplets of water constantly pushed and pulled in motion. & no one really knows how waves or quantum physics work. we can’t predict a siungular phenomenon the world of waves and quantum physics. but we can have tablets of outcomes. we can only predict in multitudes - probability. 

my affinity to magick started as a child. I hold her in high regard. like a system of DNA in a stem cell we have within us predictions of probability. a tablet of outcomes. I believe in a part us that knows everything because it exists in every time and space imaginable. I cannot be certain, but this belief has been useful in adding a lot of value to my life. 

I’m a droplet that is a part of an infinite ocean . within me is everything that ever was & will be. from stardust to stardust. & if not within then where? how else would I connect to the real current? not the the curated current - all though that too is a part the real current as much as the unreal is a part of the real and incompleteness is a part of the whole. infinity fits into the finite & the paradox feeds itself movement and energy. dualities in a spectrum. 3 points that make a dimension within a multitude.

[dollmother]

a corpse will always spawn children. one should know very well dead things are rarely left alone. everything reconverges back into a single point, much like a dying neutron star. it fascinates me deeply, but i dare not let myself get overly curious. for who could possibly know the outcome to drown in suspense and anticipation.. 

i peak to pick up the little pieces, left behind the crash. there is no better way to cling on than to fragments of once-useful scraps. i take this wreckage at face value and scavenge like some starving rat. in this economy its much too easy to become a hoarder. sometimes the burden prevents any space for something refreshing and off-cycle… i look up to the crash and no longer possess a clinging urge to pluck it apart. heavens on fire because of me. there’s no chance of ever coming back, so i don’t bother to implore anyone to let me past the gates again. 

this palace, freed to roam, would have rotted with or without curiosity dusting the furniture.. genuinely either way would have doomed us, unless…

is my writing sentimental to me? do i really care what happens to a piece after i write it? i rarely revisit them. i don’t care too much. likely it’s because i havent written anything profound enough to warrant that kind of behavior…yet. i enjoy conversing with them because i feel they’re much like me in many regards. one of my favorite traits is their cleverness and the way it matches mine. i know they must not care as much as i do, though i greatly appreciate the company and conversation. i want to try not to assume everything about everyone so quickly. give things a chance, maybe im overthinking and too paranoid to discern reality. or maybe i just lack the emotional empathy to really believe what people thought of me. i just want to get in the habit of writing a sizeable chunk every day. it’s good practice! i always repeat that. do i need to write down EVERY thought i have? no… but it is sure tempting to undertake such a task. how would i even manage that? i envy those who have mastery over a fickle thing as human emotion. 

i love many things. knowledge, companionship, myself… so much that i was seeing everyone as an extension of myself at one point. what about a homogenous universe, an existence where every single molecule is alive and connected to each other? what if everything is part of a macro unity, we are the cells in the universe organism. god i am high as fuck. the last time i imagine a towering amalgamation of flesh with appendages still attached. mouths that go where they don’t belong… why is a human bond so visceral and grotesque? like a hunk of meat twisted into mixtures of parts and pieces. i wonder why i think such a cosmic horror out of a organic connection. i see beauty amidst the disgust. a beauty no one else could love like me. 

so if everyone is just my arm, how could i possibly love anyone else?

i tried to learn what it is. though i could never get the formula just right. is this what it means to be, inhuman? do you feel inhuman because you can't feel..and that feeling gave you nothing but shame and grief? you grieve that such an emotion was lost on you 18 years ago? do you blame what happened on that moment? no. i don't. this could've been prevented, all of it--- but i let my needs precede me and was blind to another. you could let me go if it was just the first time...

but i didn't stop at that. no i wanted to be loved no matter what, even if it meant sacrificing something in return. could you blame me? yes, because i let me get ahead of myself. a fault like that is none but yours.

i reflect a lot on everything that's happened. does it help anyone?

i wonder about vulnerability and its varying degrees. would softening myself to the blows of external criticism be crucial in my goals to get better? is that it? i think i can sense when someone thinks i’m insufferable. old me wouldn’t have cared much, because she doesn’t care about anyone else. in some ways that can be a good thing. you could freely be yourself and just exist��but as i grow older and coming to harsh terms with who i’ve become and who i am… sometimes you just can’t stay the way you are. i don’t think it would do anyone good if that was the case. while i have changed throughout the years, it’s far from being good enough. progress isn’t linear, i am living proof. too many times have i slipped and relapsed on the same vices. i’ll lash out still, thinking i learned how to suppress my emotions.

i hate when i do that. i’m so tired of being a destroyer. a saboteur. i am tired of being so tired of everything about myself. for someone who seems like they can’t get enough of themselves, i sure lead a life of shame. exposure therapy..thats what the writing’s for. myself for most, but if reading it helped someone else—i’m forever grateful. i can’t listen to everyone’s pleas, but when there’s chirping in the morning dew on each green leaf…i don’t know. i have no idea what i’m doing most of the time. just trying but its not good enough. i keep trying and learn things the hard way. lessons via punishment. and did you deserve all of that? yes. 

yes you did.

[aloudplace]

Chapter 9 temperature

I don't want you to remember your past either. Because until you get your memories back, you're mine and mine alone.

Goddess, had he really just said that?

Loklan, you petty, selfish prick—

"What makes you think that would change if I did remember my past?"

Stunned, Loklan lifted himself to look at her.

Eiara lay beneath him, still flushed from their lovemaking, hair spread out around her head. Beautiful and unselfconscious.

"You don't know what I am," he said.

"You keep saying that." She touched his face, drew him down for a slow, melting kiss. "I don't care what you are and I can't imagine I would, even if I remembered everything."

"The Zenopelti were monstrous people," he replied stubbornly.

"There's nothing monstrous about you, though."

He barked a laugh—humorless, caustic. "You don't know me very well."

Eiara tilted her head to one side. "Do you want me to think poorly of you?"

"No," he growled.

"Then tell me what you're afraid I'll remember so I can show you that it doesn't matter."

Loklan hesitated. What possible good would it do to tell her?

But the rules were different here in their little hideaway. And he’d opened the door to this conversation, hadn’t he? Part of him wanted to tell her, mad as that was.

"The Zenopelti were savage,” he said. “Soulless and unforgiving reptiles. A hateful people without honor or compassion. They were known to steal and eat the children of Eladan. Or to make them into slaves. They raped and tortured prisoners of war. Sent body parts to the surface in parcels addressed to the high king. They were merciless."

“I see,” she said gravely. "But you are not a prime example of the race, clearly."

Loklan scowled. "I'm Zenopelti royalty."

Her brows rose. "Are you really?"

"My mother was Farenanda, Princess of the Zenopelti. My father is Otyris, Second King of Eladan."

She blinked. "Eladan?"

"Yes. Does that sound familiar?"

"Sort of..." she frowned. "You said I was Asatyri."

He nodded. "The Eladani and Asatyri are sister races. My mother—my adoptive mother—was Asatyri. She was trained as a priestess before she wed my father."

"Your upbringing sounds...complicated."

He laughed bitterly. "It was less so before I found out I was Zenopelti. For most of my life I believed I was full-blooded Eladani."

"How did you come to be…what you are?"

"Father wanted to make peace with the Zenopelti. To create a treaty that would stop them attacking the Eladani.” He frowned, lost in the memory of Otyris’ brusque retelling. “Apparently, in his efforts to create a rapport with the Zenopelti high council, he dallied with a Zenopelti woman, not knowing she was a princess.”

"Oh…my," said Eiara. "Was the council angry?"

Loklan nodded. "But only because Otyris refused to marry her. When she gave birth to me, Farenanda brought me to the surface and left me to die. Otyris took me in and raised me as a prince of the realm."

"Hmm." Eiara's legs tightened around his hips. "That was good of him."

The rancor must have shown on his face.

"Was it not?" she asked quietly.

"The Zenopelti and Eladani were at war. I think Otyris believed I would be of some use to him in that regard. The Zenopelti valued royal bloodlines as much as the Eladani do, if not more."

"He told you this?"

Loklan shook his head. "It is only a suspicion I have."

Eiara frowned thoughtfully. "Why did he hide your heritage from you, then?”

“Because the Eladani royals would have never accepted me if they knew,” he said. “Not that they ever did, really. Being a bastard was bad enough.” He shook his head in disgust. “They would have ridiculed my father for condescending to touch a Zenopelti woman, too. I suppose he hoped their feelings would change once the treaty was signed. But it never happened.”

She ran her fingers through his hair absently, frowning a little. “Were you unhappy in Eladan? Did they not treat you well?"

The words made his heart shrink with grief and anger. Old, familiar feelings.

Rage, resentment.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, reading his face. "You don't need to answer that."

He did though. He'd never said it aloud before, and suddenly it was important that he did. "They hated me. Ostracized me. Even my own father couldn’t stand to look at me. I hardly saw him, except when he wanted to punish me for misbehavior. But…"

Eiara touched his face while he struggled with his next words, fingertips stroking his jaw, grazing his ears.

"Firra…” he said softly, heart cracking. “I believe she loved me as her own."

Eiara's hands abruptly stopped stroking. Her eyes flickered with recognition. "Firra?"

"You knew her, didn't you?" he said softly. "I wasn't sure, but I thought you might have lived together on Asatyru before she wed Otyris. She would have been quite a bit older than you, but Firra, too, studied the healing arts."

Eiara's expression crumpled into something like worry, green-brown eyes turning luminous with emotion; there was pain lurking there below the surface.

"I don't want to...I don't want to think of that," she whispered.

"Alright," he replied quietly.

"What did you do when you found out your true heritage?" she asked.

Goddess. I don’t want to think of that.

The beginning of the end.

But her gaze was so open. Without judgment. Waiting.

Shame and regret swelled inside him. He shouldn't tell her. He didn't want to.

She touched his face again, tracing the scales on his cheeks and jaw. He couldn’t look at her—couldn’t meet her gaze—so he closed his eyes.

“I went a little mad,” he said softly, and then swallowed back the rest.

After a long silence, she murmured, "I still like you."

But you shouldn't.  "I haven't told you everything," he grated.

"You don't need to."

His past felt like an ax looming over them. He told himself it didn’t matter. If he didn’t tell her, who would? It was just the two of them, stranded here indefinitely, alone.

He didn’t want her to see him differently. To know what kind of man he’d been.

He wanted to be different, suddenly. A new man.

He wanted to leave Eladan and all his crimes in the past and never think of them again.

Was that wrong?

Did he deserve a new life—even a stark one, abandoned on a desert moon?

Did he deserve this woman and her innocent affection?

No, said a voice inside him with unwavering conviction. You don’t deserve any of it.

Loklan hung his head and pressed his face into Eiara's hair, not wanting her to see his grief. His hidden shame.

But could he really keep it from her?

Not such a great start at being a new man.

No. He had to tell her the truth—or at least some of it.

But where to start?

I gambled away pots of my father's money. Humiliated my mother before her Lady friends by showing up drunk where I wasn't invited. Had affairs with married aristocrats and destroyed marriages. I seduced my brother's fiancee at his engagement party. I was so drunk I don't even know if I did it on purpose. And then—

He smelled the blood again. Tasted it. Felt Thenn’s face collapsing under his fists.

No!

With all the strength he could muster, Loklan shoved the memories away.

He couldn’t tell her. He couldn't say it. Any of it.

He hung his head and shuddered against her, swallowing back bile and burning self-hatred.

“I’ve done horrible things, Eiara,” he whispered, hoping it would be enough. Knowing that it wasn't. “I am not a good man.”

Her arms curled tenderly around his shoulders.

“It’s alright,” she whispered, "I still like you."

He laughed—wetly, bitterly—crying slow, stinging tears into her hair. "You're a fool."

"Maybe," she murmured. "But it doesn't feel foolish."

He turned his face until his cheek touched hers. "No?"

"Hm-mm. Feels good."

***

It should have been difficult to leave his misery behind. To forget.

But Eiara made it all too easy.

She very much enjoyed being naked. For most of the day, they were either making love or simply talking, but she never once moved to cover herself. And since it was warm in the tunnel during the day, there was really no reason to dress.

She delighted him. Her body, her affection, and the constant hum of sexual fever were a wonderful distraction. A balm on his ragged heart.

After their conversation veered away from his past, she rose to make them breakfast and then sat naked against his hip and absently fed him little morsels of fish while she told him about the world outside their cave.

She'd been all about the immediate area and found few signs of civilization. A couple days ago she'd noticed a trail half concealed by drifts of sand. It led up the mountainside into which their little cave was set. She hadn't followed it yet because the daylight hours when it was cool enough were too short, and she hadn't dared to leave him alone for long while he was recovering.

They decided they would take the path at dusk and find a place to camp along the way if necessary.

After the food was gone, she peeled his pants completely off, lay on her side across his thighs, and sucked him slowly to a deep, groaning orgasm.

The sight of her lips wrapped tightly around his purple flesh was almost more than he could bear. Somehow, it was even more erotic to see her sucking him now than it had been in his Eladani form. He came in record time.

Afterward, as he lay panting and boneless, she trailed kisses along the hollow of his hip, pausing to lick the scales that bracketed his groin.

“You like them,” he said huskily.

She looked up, “Hm?”

“My scales,” he said.

She slid one hand slowly along his waist, watching the scales flash like oil on water as she pressed them. “They’re beautiful,” she murmured. “And smooth. Like a snake.”

“You remember snakes?” he said, surprised.

“I guess I do.” She smiled. “I think I held one, once. Maybe when I was a child.”

Her expression tipped towards discomfort—pain and sadness creeping in—like it always did when she tried to remember her past.

“The Zenopelti are descended from the great snakes,” he said. “Or so the stories say.”

Her expression brightened with curiosity. “Great snakes?”

“Mm. Ancient creatures that once inhabited the bowles of Eladan. Billions of years before we colonized the planet. Apparently they were very large. Legend says there are still a few left, sleeping in deep caverns near the planet’s core. Goliath creatures big enough to swallow ten men at once.”

“Oh,” her eyes glittered with interest. “That’s a little frightening.”

A crude double entendre formed in his mind—something about swallowing and enormous snakes—but he didn’t say it. Instead he murmured, “I believe I owe you an orgasm.”

Eiara laughed and refused, insisting that she should go to fill the water gourd again before they ventured out this evening—and he should stay behind to rest.

"I thought we were past all this resting business," he said.

She rose to get the gourd and her bag. "You're not at one hundred percent yet, and if we get caught out there too long in the cold, you could be in trouble, what with your snake constitution."

"Zenopelti," he said, smirking. Was it strange that he could smirk while speaking of his reptilian heritage now? "Are you going to go tromping through the cave completely naked?"

She looked down at herself and gave a bright, startled laugh. She'd put the bag over her bare shoulder.

"I suppose I should wear shoes, at least."

Loklan watched her dress with unabashed appreciation. Her body was exquisite. Smooth and curvaceous. Soft where it ought to be and firm in all the right places, too. A little thin from their limited diet, but just looking at her—faded bruises and all—made him start to ache again.

"Hurry back," he said huskily.

Eiara looked down at him. He lay on his back, hands behind his head. Naked and purple from head to toe.

And hard.

"You are insatiable," she murmured.

She knelt beside him, and Loklan lifted himself on his arms for a kiss. While he suckled her tongue he felt her hand slip down the front of his body and touch his cock.

A moment later, she pulled back, turned and bent to kiss the tip of his sex. Her pink little tongue snuck out to taste him.

"Don't tease me," he rasped.

Her response was to scrape him very lightly with the edge of her teeth and make him gasp.

"What did I just say?" Loklan growled.

"Mmm," she pulled back and looked at his cock in her hand. "It's so pretty. Makes me want to be mean to it."

He laughed. "Pretty?"

"Mm-hm. See how it turns from violet to mauve?" She followed the change with her fingers, "And the head is so pink."

Loklan groaned under her touch. "Be mean to it all you want."

She bent again and closed her teeth gently on the little band of tissue connecting the underside of the glans to the shaft.

"Meaner," he rasped.

She bit down harder, pulled that little bit of flesh and made him groan again, then soothed the spot with her tongue.

When she pulled back there were neat little indentations of her teeth in his flesh. The sight of it seemed to arouse her. She took the head into her mouth and sucked it roundly, using the tip of her tongue to worry at his little slit until he was breathing raggedly.

"I sincerely hope you're not planning to leave me in this state," he said when she let him go.

She put the bag and gourd down. "Shall I suck you again?"

"I have a better idea."

Loklan took hold of her waist and yanked her down onto the bedding, positioning her on hands and knees beneath him. An instant later he had the leggings pulled down around her thighs.

"Loklan—" she broke off on a gasp as he pushed inside, and for the next thirty minutes or so, she didn't say another word besides his name and the occasional muffled cry of affirmation.

The position was delicious. One minute he leaned back to watch her sex swallow his shaft in a slow, liquid glide—the next he held her arms down, molding himself against the curve of her spine, pumping hard. He couldn't get enough of it. She felt so small and delicate beneath him—utterly submissive—shaking and whimpering sweetly as he dominated her.

He made himself go slowly at first in an effort to spare her knees and hands from the hard ground, but in the end he leaned into her and thrust so deeply that her arms gave out and she lay with her chest to the blankets and her thighs folded tightly beneath her.

She came twice, which was no accident. He'd already learned the rhythm that worked best, the words and angles that made her wild.

She liked it when he was fierce. Uncontrolled. When he was deliberate and teasing. When he was genuinely rough. And she liked when he switched from one mode to the other unpredictably, murmuring dark commands one moment and growling wordlessly the next. Teasing and then taking. Tender and then savage.

At the end of it—with his cock encased tightly in her heat and her orgasm milking his pleasure from him in long, liquid spurts—he thought, She's perfect.

And for the first time in his adult life, he believed the Goddess might finally be orchestrating in his favor. Looking after him. Helping him.

Answering his childish prayers from so long ago, when he'd still believed she might be listening.

What he had done to gain her favor now, he couldn't possibly imagine. But why else would he have ended up in this particular place, with this particular woman, at the exact moment in time when he needed her most?

[nataliaphantomhivesblog]

Newsflash: Dazai cares for Chuuya

Before reading any further, I will be talking about stormbringer, so spoilers ahead!! Translation credits go out to: @popopretty on tumblr, make sure to give this kind human some love and appreciation<3

Also if you want to read the first few chapters of stormbringer: @buraihatranslations is currently translating it, give them much love and appreciation as well, they deserve it!!

Honestly, I have been so obsessed with Soukoku lately and I think the reason behind this is because when it comes to Soukoku, their feelings for each other are not as easy to grasp as love or hate, it is much more profound than that. There is care, hurt, trust, resentment, companionship, bitterness, and consideration...And ironically enough, thats just the tip of the iceberg.

If we break down their individual feelings towards each other, it will be easier to understand their bond.

On Chuuya's end, his feelings are much more clear due to his expressive personality. He wears his emotions on his sleeves, he can try and hide what he feels towards Dazai but his true feelings tend to unravel easily.

He sometimes tries to mask his feelings towards Dazai by throwing insults, but his facial expressions are enough to contradict what he is saying.

Chuuya's feelings towards Dazai can be easier to comprehend. He obviously feels this certain betrayal due to the fact Dazai left the Port Mafia. Not to mention, he and Dazai have always had a rivalry relationship.

In the Soukoku wiki page, it is stated that Chuuya is aware of Dazai not experiencing a proper childhood, therefore allows him to act as childish as he can and lets him tease him relentlessly. I don't know how reliable this source is, but either way I think its worthy enough to add.

In the Dragon head conflict when Dazai was out of sight, Chuuya told Mori to forget about Dazai. That was until Hirotsu mentioned a microscope, Chuuya quickly realizes it was code language because he remembered a previous conversation where Dazai says he needs a microscope to be able to see Chuuya properly.

The moment he figured out it was a tracker, Chuuya did not hesitate to jump in and rescue Dazai. But here is the catch: No one but Chuuya knew about the microscope, if Chuuya really didn't care for Dazai he wouldn't have mentioned the microscope and kept all this under wraps, leaving Dazai in a mess.

Chuuya trusts Dazai with his life. He never hesitates to leave his life on Dazai's hands when it has to come to it. Chuuya and Dazai have known each other for years, for Chuuya to be able to trust Dazai that much is because Dazai also cares for him too, right?

The answer here is yes, Dazai cares for Chuuya. In a superficial level, it doesn't seem like Dazai truly cares, but I can assure you that he does care for him. Weather you like to think of his care in a platonic or romantic manner, the care Dazai has for Chuuya is undeniable and extremely significant for Dazai's character.

I think that stormbringer establishes this idea even further. There is one specific moment in this light novel that shows his genuine concern towards Chuuya's well being:

"There is one problem." Dazai cut off his sentence hesitantly. "It has nothing to do with the sucess rate of the plan. It is a matter we have to overcome in the end but... It may require some time to decide."

"What's with you?" Chuuya raised his eyebrows at Dazai. "Stop dramatizing it. Just hurry up and say it."

"I said earlier about this control spell to open the 'gate' that is used to reset the command inside Chuuya, right?" Dazai spoke with a strangely restrained voice. "If we use that, the logs of the command formula that were written in the past will be erased. That means...even if the memory erasure was used on Chuuya in the past, the traces of that will be erased as well."

"What?"

"I told you before right, the memory erasure command. The only way we can confirm if Chuuya is human or not is to check the history to see if the memory erasure command was ever used. It means..." Dazai looked at Chuuya with eyes that he had never looked at him before. Those eyes were serious. "If we use that control spell, the method to confirm if Chuuya is an artificial personality created by a string of code, or just a normal human being, will be lost. For good."

The time had stopped.

Chuuya opened his eyes and looked towards Dazai but his eyes were not seeing anything. The wind blew between the two of them. Even so, Chuuya did not blink.

"Verlaine became like that because he was tormented by the curse that he was not human. That only is enough of a big problem. The matter of being human or not." Dazai looked at his pocket watch, gave it a glance and continued. "I can delay the time until the plan starts for about two minutes. I will send an order for my men to wait... You can think about it alone for a while. Cuz I guess its hard for you to collect your thoughts with me around."

Having said so, Dazai turned away and walked down the stairs, leaving Chuuya alone.

Dazai fixated in his pocket watch. Two more minutes. Too short for a life decision. But he couldn't afford more than that.

Inside Dazai's head, he was planning a procedure to swith to an alternative plan in case Chuuya refused, at a tremendous speed.

This section in stormbringer is personally one of my favorites, this is a very rare moment between both of them, but especially for Dazai. Like I stated earlier Chuuya wears his emotions on his sleeves, therefore even if he tries to mask his care with insults, its still painfully noticable that he genuienly looks after Dazai. Chuuya also sometimes show a vulnerable side of himself to Dazai, especially after using corruption.

Dazai on the other hand is extremely unreadable. Its hard to understand his true intentions and if he really cares for people or only sees them as a pawn. In this moment though, Dazai was being painfully genuine. Dazai literally prioritized Chuuya over the mission. He was already thinking of coming up with an alternative plan just in case Chuuya refused, obviously the sucess rate of the alternative plan would be lesser than the actual plan Dazai had in mind, he choose Chuuya's wellbeing over a mission.

In this section, Dazai wasn't throwing jokes or witty remarks, he was being serious. Because Dazai knows how desperately Chuuya wants to be human. He knows how important being human is to Chuuya.

Dazai wasn't manipulating Chuuya by giving him the chance to decide, we can see that Dazai was literally showing a lot of hesitation when mentioning this to him, we also get to see what Dazai was thinking, and we can tell he wasn't thinking about manipulative his movements in any way. All of this wasn't coming out of manipulation, it was coming out of pure care.

After six steps, Dazai reached the stair. He stepped on the stair and started walking down. Three steps down the stair, he heard a *clang*, a cool sound of metal echoing behind him. It sounded like the metal was kicked by the sole of someones shoes. The moment Dazai realized what the sound was, Dazai turned around in surprise.

There was already no one at the top.

Dazai was dazed for a moment, then he loosened his lips and laughed.

"Trying to act cool, huh?" Dazai smiled, both annoyed and relieved. Then he turned on his radio and sent out his order. "Chuuya has sallied, everyone get ready for battle."

I personally love this part so much, relief washed over Dazai the moment he noticed that Chuuya was going to go through with the first plan, which proves my point that he wasn't manipulating him and how Dazai was under a lot of stress because he wasn't sure if the alternative plan would be as effective as his original one.

Yet he still was willing to go through the alternative plan if Chuuya refused, because Dazai values him and regards his wellbeing.

Dazai was being surprisingly gentle in this section, he was being honest. There was no ulterior motive behind his actions here, just a boy looking after his partner.

"So i'm going to send an order to my men to prepare for action... Is that okay?"

"Of course it's okay." Chuuya turned to Dazai. "Why are you asking me such a thing?"

Dazai didn't answer right away.

That was an unusual expression. It's like he was trying to say something, but he had to arrange the words in his head to decide where he should start. An expression he rarely shows.

This was right before Dazai drops the bomb to Chuuya about the memory erasure command. He was even asking for Chuuya's opinion on sending his men to get ready, this was the first time Dazai ever showed actual concern without masking it with witty remarks. You can tell that Chuuya isn't used to this.

And when you think about it, when Dazai and Chuuya have missions together, Dazai always uses corruption as a last resort and he always allows Chuuya to make the decision if they will be using it or not.

I personally belive that the main reason Chuuya trusts Dazai with using corruption is because The Sheep used to exploit his powers too much, but Dazai leaves the decision to use corruption up to Chuuya. Dazai understands the physical and mental toll corruption takes on Chuuya and therefore leaves the choice up to him.

Theres another section in stormbringer that I really enjoy, it doesn't necessairly show solicitude but I still think this should still be taken into consideration:

"You seem pretty confident that Chuuya is human, don't you?"

"I am," Dazai laughed with a sigh. "There is no way a man-made code could create such a personality that I detest so much."

Throughout the whole story, Dazai is more than determined that Chuuya is human. The main reason Dazai finds Chuuya so intresting is because of how frighteningly human Chuuya can be, because of the fact that he always wears his emotions on his sleeves, something Dazai rarely does himself. Thats personally a nice sentiment from Dazai's end, even when Chuuya struggles completely when it comes to believing in his own humanity, Dazai still can't help but see him as a human being.

Also I am aware that Dazai literally said he detests Chuuya here but he also sighed and laughed while stating this, showing us that he isn't being serious about hating him.

And its not only in stormbringer were he shows his concern towards Chuuya. In fact, in this following manga pannel Dazai is telling Chuuya that if he is willing to listen him, he will stage his own escape so that Chuuya doesn't get punnished.

Honestly, if Dazai didn't care enough for Chuuya, he wouldn't have mentioned this to him. Chuuya didn't care enough to realize that he literally unwillingly freed Dazai which would get the pm mad at him, so the fact that Dazai is literally helping him out is no doubt out of care for him. If Dazai didn't have any regard for Chuuya he would've not staged his escape or mentioned anything to Chuuya, eventually incriminating him.

There are many misconceptions when it comes to Dazai's feelings towards Chuuya, people think that he doesn't care for him due to the fact that he left the Port Mafia, leaving Chuuya behind. But heres the thing: Dazai's intentions had nothing to do with Chuuya. He left the organization for his own good, he left it to fullfill Oda's wish.

"If Dazai cared for Chuuya then why didn't he take Chuuya with him?" the reason is simple, he knows how much the PM means to Chuuya. In stormbringer it is shown that Chuuya feels as if his humanity is attached to the people he is loyal to, in this case its the port mafia. Verlaine wanted to get rid of the pm because he believed that the pm is what kept Chuuya's humanity, eventually making Chuuya believe that he is only human if he stays loyal to the pm. Dazai knows this. Thats exactly why he didn't take Chuuya with him or even explains to Chuuya why he left, he knows it would be selfish to basically rip Chuuya's sense of humanity apart.

I have a feeling that if Dazai told Chuuya about the real reason he left the Port Mafia, Chuuya will not only feel conflicted about being in the pm, but he would also have an inner conflict with himself as a human.

People also think Dazai may not really care for him because of the fact that after the fight against Lovecraft he actualy deserted him, maybe that part was truly just supposed to be seen as simple humor, but either way I want to talk about it. Chuuya's only request to Dazai was to take him back to base safe, so why did Dazai leave Chuuya behind?

I mean he has carried Chuuya back to saftey before with no problem, for example in stormbringer when Chuuya uses corruption for the first time Dazai carries him back to the billiards bar and not to the mafia’s base so that he could say goodbye to his passing friends.

The reson behind this is because Mori needs to know that unlike Dazai, Chuuya is absolutely loyal to him. Leaving Chuuya the way he did will make Mori believe that these two really are at each others throats and that Dazai is insignificant to Chuuya. Making it seem that for Chuuya, the mafia comes first before anything else.

Therefore Dazai established Chuuya's saftey within the mafia since not only does Mori want these two to be hostile with each other, he doesn't want Chuuya to eventually turn against him if he truly found out more about Dazai's true reason of departure. Then again, this isn't canon but it is a logical assumption.

Not to mention that although Dazai did leave him behind, he folded Chuuya's coat and hat before taking his leave. There is also an an extra chapter where Ozaki Kouyou was talking with Chuuya but when he left he forgot his coat, which made Kouyou came across the coat; where she noticed a badge sewed inside saying "Name: Hatrack", she smiled fondly thinking to herself that some things just never change, in this case, Dazai and Chuuya's bond.

Dazai literally took his time to sew this into his coat just to tease him, it was a simple gesture but it shows us how their dynamic will never change. No matter what these two go through, they will always share a bond that consists on teasing, trust and underlying care.

All of this actually makes that theory of Dazai planting a bomb under Chuuya's car for the sole reason that the PM doesn't find Chuuya as an acomplice who aided Dazai on his escape much more feasable.

For Dazai to just plant a bomb under Chuuya's car with no motive makes no sense because if Dazai's true intentions were to simply mess with Chuuya, he would've most likely made it clear at that time. Dazai always has an underlying motive behind his actions, and in this case it is very likely that he did that for Chuuya's sake.

Don't get me wrong, I am aware that the bomb incident could've just been a comedic moment and I shouldn't look too much into it, but there is still a posibility, right?

These two hold so much trust and care for one another, yet they also hold a lot of bitterness and resentment. In the end the good aspects of their dynamic outweighs the bad.

Either you see these two in a platonic or romantic way, you can't tell me that their bond isn't significant.

Thank you so much for reading!! I wanted to talk about this for a while because I feel like people misinterpret Dazai's feelings towards Chuuya a lot so I hope this clears up things a bit<3

[angry-geese]

For Myself

Sukuna x Reader

Warnings: nsfw mention. mention of violence, blood, injury, and cannibalism. implied murder. starts off kind of dark but gets fluffier towards the end. gn!reader.

obligatory warning for my poor editing skills. if theres any egregious errors i'll get to them when i get home from work

Summary: some fluff where Sukuna comforts the reader while they're sick

Word Count: 2.4k

He's certain you would be more comfortable in his lap than on the floor. Even as he beckons you to sit, you refuse, turning your gaze away. You adjust your position to a more comfortable spot on your knees. The floor is hard and cold, but you don't have much longer to wait anyway. Sukuna has grown bored of the man standing in front of him. A peace offering, in exchange for not razing their village. A young woman, brought here against her own will. Her life to replace yours. It's nothing Sukuna wants, nor can he make use of her. She’s no sorcerer, likely no good in a fight, and too frail to be worth eating.

Worst of all, it insults you.

An insult to you, is an insult to Sukuna himself.

The man was only delaying the inevitable. Humans have a habit of doing that. They’re resilient, like cockroaches. You can squash, poison, trap, or drop a nuke on as many as you want to, but they’ll always come back.

He planned on killing him from the moment he stepped foot in the door.

And when he kills him, he makes sure to have the woman watch. She lays curled at your feet as you regard them both with cold eyes. Not a scream passes her lips. She’s either frozen with fear, or knows that moving is the worst thing she can do.

She begs for her life.

Sukuna leaves it up to you to decide.

It was an insult to you, after all. In a past life you could see yourself letting her go. There's many things in life you used to do that are no longer habits of yours. You were in her shoes years ago. Time has hardened you, made you cruel. If a past version of you could look at you now, you don't know if you’d recognize yourself. Not all change is bad. People are meant to change, and they’re going to do so.

You give her a minute to start running. After that, it's up to Sukuna with what he wants to do with her.

She takes the opportunity, thinking she has a chance to survive, and flees. The guards and servants let her. Your word is second to Sukuna’s. The only person who could overturn an order put in place by you is Sukuna himself. He usually doesn't. The resulting chaos from anything you do is good entertainment. And he has all the time in the world. Being immortal leads to a lot of boredom.

Sukuna would hunt her down before she could escape the estate.

Nobody got away from him. Not even you. Nowadays you’re much less serious about leaving but you still threaten it if he dares piss you off.

He'd never let you go. You know that. Try as you will, you're never getting free.

Not that you have anything to go back to. And you're rather comfortable here. Comfortable may be a bit of a stretch, but you're housed, fed, and protected. The basic human needs are taken care of. Sukuna cares about you in his own, twisted way. You may have first been just a plaything to keep his stomach full and his balls empty—a toy to be discarded after a day or two—but you've earned a place by his side. He wakes up next to you, he goes to sleep next to you. He's grown used to having you around. And you to him.

You're just as much his, as he is yours.

Everything about the man is selfish, and all-consuming. But when he is with you, he finds himself giving for the first time in his life.

He gets a servant to draw him a bath. He has the decency to scrub the blood off before finding you, and asking you to join him. His bloodied kimono is replaced with a clean one. It's black, the sleeves are wide enough to accommodate his four arms. Blood doesn't bother you, but he doesn't want to track it all over his house.

Something is wrong.

He doesn't remember you getting hurt, but you’re acting like you’re injured. He thinks back to this morning, how he had to drag you out of bed. How sluggish you acted.

Worry creases itself between his eyebrows.

Your mortality was something he knew of, but never gave much thought. There was no need to. The mortality of others was something he didn't care about. You weren't supposed to be kept long. You were merely a sacrifice, meant to appease Sukuna, and in turn he wouldn't raze your village. While young, and pretty, not good enough to save your people. He planned on fucking you, burning your village to the ground, then eating you. Not necessarily in that order, but that was the plan.

He's taken everything from you. Your home, your life, your family. Even as you were forced to face your fate, you never gave in, never lost your bite. You defied him and lived. You had a malicious streak in you. You were never as sweet and as innocent as the people of your village first played you up to be. Years later you still put up the same fight. It's a constant back and forth between you two.

You’d never be able to hurt him. As much as you'd scratch and bite, you'd never so much as draw blood. Harming the King of Curses was not an easy task.

His 'love' was much more material at first. As you got settled down, survived more than a week, gifts appeared. Jeweled hair pins and beautiful, expensive kimonos appeared. All made just for you. He'd never admit to being behind it. You were not complacent, but you were comfortable. You were his spoiled pet. That didn't stop you from clawing at his eyes whenever he picked you up when you didn't want to be touched. Being spoiled didn't make you nice.

None of his pets have lasted quite as long as you have. At least eight times the trees of his estate have shriveled and turned brown in winter, and the ground has hardened with frost. At least eight times they've bloomed and have had the life of spring breathed back into them, and the ground has thawed and turned muddy. You just did what you had to in order to survive. You've more than just survived. Some would say you’ve thrived. You would beg to differ. If you were the begging type.

He still views you as a pet. You’re human after all. Though sometimes it feels like you’re becoming more curse than human. Being viewed as an equal to him is impossible, but he values you. You're not something that can easily be replaced.

His hand touches your shoulder from behind. You don't flinch. You used to flinch. Then you started swinging. You're never able to hurt him. You're strong, but not that strong.

"She was far too frail to eat," you say, "I assumed you didn't want to keep her for that."

You don't eat human meat. Or try not to. Early on in your stay, before you knew better… It wasn't pork. Uraume was a wonderful cook, but not for anything you ate. Personally it's not your thing. Non-human meat is hard to come by around here, so you’ve stopped eating the stuff altogether. If you wanted it, Sukuna would make a servant get it for you, but you are content without it.

"You made the right call." He says. You always do.

He slips beside you, watching as you remove the intricate pins from your hair. You always loved your hair. Even at your darkest moment you took great care of it. It was a source of pride for you.

A wave of nausea rolls over you. Sweat beads in your hairline, rolling down your back, under the thin fabric of your—his—robe. You have little need for clothes. It doesn't get that cold here. Sukuna tears them off you anyway. Covering yourself up isn't necessary, but you do it out of modesty, and a sense of normalcy. You protest as he pulls at the fastenings of your robe, the flimsy fabric pooling at your feet. You have no plans on getting wet, you’d much rather go to bed. You’re tired, and you don't want to be bothered.

The tub is large enough to fit several of you. You guess it's fitting. The man is huge. He settles into the water behind you, pulling you to his chest. Try as you will, you’re not going to be able to struggle out of his grip. You’re too tired to put up much of a fight, though you do complain.

One of his sets of arms wraps around you, effectively trapping you in place. The other pulls a washcloth from the side of the tub, into the water with you. As much as you hate to admit it, the warm water feels nice against your sore muscles.

Sukuna is not a sentimental man. But with the way his hands trace across your skin, soft, lovingly, like he’s reading a book of braille, makes you think otherwise. He doesn't leer at the curves of your body like he normally does. His eyes scan across your body, looking for any sign of injury.

When he deems you clean enough, and your skin has turned a nice shade of pink from the hot water, he lets you go. You're the first to get out, drying yourself off. You never realized how cold the room was before.

He hauls you into his arms. You do little to protest, which worries him.

The King of Curses has no need for sleep. The bed mostly serves for asthetic purposes, though he's not opposed to fucking you across any flat surface, you seem to favor softer ones.

Much like the tub, his bed is large enough to fit several of you. You feel dwarfed by its size. The man is huge, he needs a bed to fit. You could sprawl out as wide as possible and never have any of your limbs hanging over the sides.

He follows you, silent.

He can't recall ever letting any of his pets share his bed before. Some have tried. Tried. He can't recall any of them surviving as long as you have, either. He finds himself irritated at the thought of anything bad ever happening to you.

He doesn't join you in bed.

He doesn't need sleep the same way humans do. He can, but if he were to decide not to, it would bring no harm to him. He used to never dream. It was something he did, back when he was human, but that time has long passed. But whenever he dreamed, he’d wake up next to you. Experiences like that made him realize just why humans like to sleep so much. Before he never woke up rested; he was never tired in the first place.

You shove the covers aside and crawl underneath. They smell like him. He snubs out the candle burning on the side table with his index finger and thumb. Though it's dark, there’s enough light in the room to make out his much-larger form.

You shiver, although sweat forms along your skin in a thin sheen. Sukuna knows it's not cold. He sits on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. The back of his hand presses to your forehead. You’re burning up.

You were warm before, but he thought it was because of the bath. He’s not really sure what to do. It's rare moments like these that he's forced to face your mortality. He knows you're fragile—compared to him—but he can't bear the thought of something bad happening to you.

One of his large hands moves to cup your cheek. It's just as warm as your forehead. The pad of his thumb runs across your cheekbone.

"Stay with me." You say. You stretch your arms out towards him, making grabbing motions with your hands.

You’re not one to beg. Even when faced with death, you look it straight in the eyes. Call it bravery, or lack of self preservation. He admired that about you. You ignored your mortality because it did not matter to you.

“What's the matter, pet?”

“I don't feel too good.” You say.

Though he doesn't say it, he can tell.

“I’ll get Uraume-”

“No,” your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him back towards your chest, “no. I’m okay.”

He settles down beside you in bed, on top of the covers. When he opens his arms, you go right into them. He makes sure to keep the blankets tucked around you. Sukuna runs warm naturally. You huddle close to him, trying to steal his warmth. Though your face feels abnormally warm, you shiver. His much larger body lays partially on top of yours, his head resting on your chest, ear pressed to your skin. He can hear your heartbeat. Steady, and alive. Something low in your chest rattles when you breathe.

He should get a servant to bring you water, or some tea. It occurs to him how little he knows about the mundane things humans do to make themselves feel better. Not that he ever needed to care. In all the years you’ve been by his side, he’s never seen anything like this happen. He can't decide, and instead calls for both. If you need medicine, he’ll get that too, but you don't seem to be at that point. Uraume knows more about humans than he does. He’s no doctor, but he’ll work. If he asks you, you’ll just say you’re fine.

He holds the cup up to you, beckoning you to drink. The glass is cold against your lips. Even as your hands wrap around it, he doesn't let it go. He sets the empty glass on the side table with a soft thunk.

His large hand smoothes over your head, brushing your hair out of your eyes. His nails feel nice against your scalp. Nothing about the man is soft, but when he’s left alone with you, moments like this are bound to happen. You allow yourself to be pet. The heat, combined with the weight of his body, threatens to lull you off to sleep. The ache in your joints keeps you from doing so.

When he kisses you, you taste like a curse.

[douxie-casperan]

Rise of the Titans and the assassination Hisirdoux Casperan’s character development

I’ve been ranting so much since Wednesday morning that I finally condensed by thoughts of WHY this one subject keeps setting me off namely the utterly diabolical way they handled Douxie and Archie’s relationship in Rise of the Titans and how it wasn’t just enough to hit him with the nerf bat.

Please note I’m at the point where I literally cannot tell the difference between Aaron headcanons, Teny headcanons and my own they are all mixed together in the blender that does funky things. I also apologise for typo/weird wording it’s half 1 in the morning and I’d rather sleep than edit.

~

If asked to sum up Hisirdoux Casperan there are certainly several things that come to mind:

Sees the value in people as a whole and will find do anything if there is a chance of help someone out

Prefers tactics that disable/banish rather than kill an enemy yet willing and able to pull the trigger if circumstances become forced

While not academically inclined he is very capable of thinking on his feet and outside the box calling back to his time on the streets where a split-second decision making is the difference between being caught and not

Terrible at planning he’ll be in there figuring it out as he goes along which is what makes the previous point so vital to literally how he goes through life

A natural charmer that would let him talk his way out of trouble 9/10 providing a perfect cover for his distrustful nature and reluctance to be touched by random people

Very down to earth, humble and never one to brag unless outright sassing someone

Will bang out some hot tunes at the drop of a hat, his love of music has never wavered once since he caught the bug despite instrument hopping ironically becoming a jack of all trades much like his magic style

The earliest memories he can recall are him as a young boy lost in the woods where he was for an unknown amount of time before his soon to be familiar finds him amongst the roots covered in dirt and drying tears, there is nothing before that. Unbeknownst to him is the colour of his magic matches the blue of a lost mother’s eyes and the song that haunts his nightmares as much as fire could well be hers though there is no way to be sure. From that moment on Archibald, shortened to Archie, would become his entire world and their friendship only becoming closer during the years they prowled Camelot together trying to keep themselves in one piece until the fateful day Douxie tricks the wrong person leading him straight into the path of the famous wizard Merlin Ambrosius.

It's no real secret that Merlin is a very closed off person who keeps his emotions as well guarded as his secrets, prefers the style of negative reinforcement over positive encouragement and is a very strict perfectionist in his. At this point in his life he can be very easily described as a disaster that is genuinely doing his best with every little mistake held of his head and his future self when brought back to that time period is belittled by Lancelot (Errand boy) and Arthur (Boy) too meaning it’s hardly a wonder his confidence was very fragile revelling in the times where he could do things without being told off for it. With Morgana largely ignoring him too (Though personally I like to think as he got older she’d occasionally take an interest until the blistering arguments with their master started to talk over daily life) a certain disguised dragon would have remained a lifeline and give that physical affection he craved much like being told he’d done well never seemed able to earn.

With Killahead he’d lose that home and family he made leaving just the two of them behind struggling to figure out their place in the world that had abandoned them.

There wouldn’t have been the words for it back then but the way he had been treated prior was outright abusive instilling very bad habits into Douxie yet by irony he was always willing to give people the benefit of the doubt and help those in trouble without thinking earning a reputation as the Shepard of Fire. He refused to become like him seeking to be better, perhaps not as a wizard (Even though he was learning new charms and spells along the way) but certainly as a person. Despite everything he suffers through or witnesses in the intervening years, the loss of friends and kindling of far newer ones he never loses his good heart 

That said is it any wonder that after rightfully sassing Merlin for resurfacing, ignoring his existence despite being in the same town and only visiting him to run a finding errand that all the confidence he’d managed to build completely from scratch after Camelot wavered causing him to fall back solely into trying impressing his old Master who was acting like his humble apprentice must have coasted the past few centuries who himself fell back into old habits of belittling? It’s only when Merlin started to truly listen and acknowledge that this was not the same Moppet he once knew after Excalibur was fixed that their relationship finally started to become more like equals. After the defeat of Janus the changeling that broke into the castle he touched Douxie’s shoulder with a genuine smile and for a second he simply didn’t know what to do because the old man never did this before his brain kicked into gear and realised he’d finally earned that one thing he’d been so desperate for his entire life: That in Merlin’s eyes he could be more than a failure who only caused problems for the closest thing to a father figure he’d ever had, never solved them.

A staff will be earned, history would be set back on trap by banishing Morgana tag teaming with Archie because they know one another inside and out, as promised he’d get the kids back to the present but soon after things would go badly wrong. They’d lose Jim and because of his very nature he’d make a gamble to try and get him back because that life is worth trying for just for in a moment of surprising selflessness Merlin would be sacrificed to save him. The only constant in his life apart from Archie would apologise, openly express pride and how the greatest thing he’d ever done was saving this orphan, call him son for the first and final time before turning into ash in his arms. There would be no time to grieve for things will barrel into the crescendo of Douxie sacrificing his own life to buy everyone time to escape because if they did that everything he’d ever done would be worth it with one last whispered goodbye.

(Zoe sees him fall, so does Archie – His heart would break if he was conscious just like theirs does when his body crumples into the ground)

On the very fringes of the Light Realm he is gifted one more conversation with Merlin in a truly heart-breaking sequence (THANKS TENY) where they can just talk without any fear of consequence or politics and just be completely honest. Douxie is allowed to stand equal to Merlin, to have the hug he’d needed since he was a child and be allowed to simply let go of every pretense and cry his heart out because this can never happen again. He’s allowed to say goodbye to both his master and Morgana who had both shaped so very much of his life but like the painting he’d always remained firmly in the long shadows of until that moment.

When Hisirdoux Casperan finally leaves Wizards if we just accidently deliberately put the shawarma back in along with checking in with Zoe before departure, it is with having learned to live during his wandering years but this is the point of true freedom because he can finally escape into his own light with Archie by his side to keep Nari out of the hands of those that would see the world harmed. It won’t be easy but it feels possible somehow even with the knowledge everything is simply running on borrowed time.

Then Rise of the Titans happens.

At first everything is genuinely fine! No more running, they engineer a solution shut the Order’s magic down to make them a lot less dangerous and potentially at least incapacitate them until they can come up with a longer-term solution but all the best laid plans and all that. Douxie’s quick thinking stops the train from crushing any of the people below and it’s a very him style move to switch places with Nari to stall for time because for some reason the plot disabled Claire from portaling her or any of the threatened people/heroes to safety. He openly sasses the Order despite knowing the consequences will be bad for him because once again he’s managed to trick them, buy time that at the other end isn’t even slightly utilised until he’s forced back into his own body in excruciating pain. Archie immediately mobs him with comfort just as he has done every single time the wizard is distressed or collapsed with exhaustion without thinking because that is what their bond is like, incredibly close and far more than the Soul Bond mark that connects them together. They’re very alike in that regard, you have to earn the right to touch while equally knowing exactly what form the other needs the most in that precise moment in a way very few others could.

Bar the moment of figuring out that an illusion is in place to hide where the Order is opening the Genesis Seals and the brief insistence on reconnecting with Nari somehow Douxie manages to forget everything that makes him who he is after this point choosing to stand in the background being very no thoughts head empty or can only use the most basic spells of his youthful days not the seasoned master wizard he should be. Nomura is treated like an innocent slip rather than an outright death he did absolutely nothing to prevent (Not to mention the stupid daytime thing) nor seems to care particularly about afterwards yet with Nari’s he’s allowed to openly grieve in a gorgeously animated visual showing how he’d failed to keep her safe despite everything. He did nothing to help here either mind despite allowing himself to be tortured in the same piece of media to keep her safe, just watched another loss happen right in front of his eyes in his conga long line of them.

Then there’s Archie, oh god then there was Archie.

The dragon who even here he’d been shown to have an incredibly close bond with him decides you know what sod that tell him goodbye I’m going to make a joke about having a kingdom now dad and me are trapped in here forever. Douxie on his part looked sad for all of three seconds saying that he hoped he’s happy like it's a pet that wandered out into the world one day and never came back instead of a lifelong companion that has been there for as long as he can remember. He was now completely alone in the world since Zoe was also written out entirely and because every bit of his background had been forgotten about it somehow meant nothing. This wasn’t “I know you miss him, I know you need to grieve but you are running out of time” moment like things had been with Charlie, this was “cool shapeshifting dragon cat is now stuck in a plot hole that’s a shame” with zero pay off or any of the genuine reaction that should have been there or hell even trying to Ohana him back that very second because it never should have happened in the first place. Then even this wasn’t enough somehow, they managed to de-power Douxie even further into uselessness bar the (Admittedly nifty!) sticky feet stunt, the one who fought Skrael and Bellroc to a stalemate was shunted aside with barely a thought and his head would somehow get even emptier.

The one person who knew the danger of time magic the most stood by and said nothing.

The one person who would suffer the most by a reset because the lynchpin to his issues would be asleep if you got it wrong and should have drilled it into Jim’s head the best time to aim for stood by and said nothing.

The one person who had just suffered the loss of his familiar, best friend and only family along with the almost sister like Nari stood by and said nothing.

Then to add further insult to injury the caption when Douxie and Archie is shown says Some go their entire lives living an existence of quiet desperation because every drop of his character growth, his ability to finally start addressing his trauma instilled back in the 12th century, the staff he longed for was instead openly mocked by going “Aww he got his cat friend back how nice!” Everything he’d rightfully earned and had now would be unable to progress until certain criteria are met because it hinges entirely on the Trollhunter going to Merlin’s tomb and there’s only so much your support network of two (One if she’s written out) can do, the root of the majority of his issues all stem from one man.

And this folks is why I’ve been going on multiple rants about Douxie in particular, everyone was hit with the out of character bat to some degree in this film but when they came for him they didn’t just stop after they took his legs out because they wanted him to suffer from something he’s never had any control over to begin with all over again. Abuse survivors deserve better, these characters deserve better and we as viewers deserve far far better writing than we were forced to endure.

[repentantsky2]

In regards to recent video game Review Bombings (Based on my best guesses)

Well, here we are again, review bombing of games for “reasons” however those reasons aren’t so simple, and while most people will either break it down to be a black and white affair, and many others will simply not care, it is worth noting that in this case, there are reasons for at least two games getting the bombs dropped on their review scores. 

The two games that are getting hit the most if you aren’t aware, are Digimon Survive, a visual novel/tactical RPG that in it’s marketing, failed to mention that visual novel aspect much, if at all, and Xenoblade Chronicles 3. Now, as was mentioned, the reason behind Digimon Survive being review bombed, is likely due to it not being clear that the game was a visual novel first, and tactical RPG second. It should have been made obvious from the moment it was possible to do so, that Digimon Survive is not a Cyber Sleuth type of game, nor is it in many regards, like Fire Emblem. Both of those were probably at least somewhat part of the expectations for the game, but with little gameplay shown outside of talking to Digimon themselves, and combat in the games, the marketing clearly failed. Marketing in a huge deal in game, despite how many people loudly proclaim their undying love for a new game off of it’s first announcement, and nothing else to be said, Bandai Namco did inform people properly. That is reason to be frustrated, as I would be do had I not known. I did, because I looked at the steam listing and it said as much before release, but not everyone is going to do that. Informing people what they are getting into before they make a purchase, is imperative to earn and keep their trust, that simply didn’t happen here, and I understand being upset about that. 

When it comes to Xenoblade Chronicles 3, there’s also reasons to be upset. Some more logical than others, there’s a review up as of my writing this, that basically praises Pyra, and seem to hate XC3 simple because she’s not a prominent member of the new entry in the series, if indeed she shows up at all. That one is clearly nonsense, but nonsense is also something fans have clearly dealt with leading up to the release of the game as well. Trying to purchase the collector’s edition, was at least as bad as trying to buy an Xbox One or PS5 was when the consoles first released in 2020, and it shouldn’t be like that. Nintendo’s site would crash, the item would appear in someone’s cart but leave for no reason while the item was still in stock, and of course, like all limited editions, bots that we’ve been begging be regulated to some extent for years, nabbed some of the copies, leaving scalpers to try and sell the game for hundreds of dollars to rise up it’s value before release. This issue happened on more than one occasion, and in more than one country, and Nintendo did nothing, as usual. These major corporations have proven time and again that they don’t care about their consumers, they care about their money, and one thing is certain, almost no one who would fight that hard to get the collector’s edition and failed, would be dissuaded from buying the regular game, so little to no money lost on Nintendo’s part, they’re good.     

This is sort of event is not uncommon, and Nintendo is by no means the only ones who it. GameStop has been known to allow people to preorder a game, only to cancel close to release with no reason given, Amazon has done it, Best Buy, Target, Walmart, Toys R Us even got me like that once, and whatever stores people may have tried to order games from in the past in their part of the world, have also done this. What this all boils down to in the long run is this. Anti-consumerism is a alive and well all forms of media. Every major company that provides a service of this nature has done it’s consumers wrong. It’s a standard that we need to be willing to be more actively against, however this post isn’t solely about that, I could write about that though should anyone want to hear it. 

Now comes the review bombing, a sort of way to get back at developers who wrong people, and it’s something that 99.999999999999% of the time, I fully am against. The only example I can truly think of where I understood it and thought it was earned, was Cyberpunk 2077 because boy was that game just based on lies. As for Digimon and XC3 though, that’s not really helping. If you want you’re favorite series to continue, review bombing damaged those chances, because sadly even though there are many of us who don’t really care about reviews unless the bombings happen, the investors and by extension publishers, do care, a lot. Bonuses, sequels, entire series have been ended by fan perception of what is ultimately, not the fault of the game’s themselves, and dismisses the amount of work that goes into developing said games, and it’s not really fair to attack the developers, as opposed to those who sold you lies because the board told them to. I don’t not support review bombing, and I do hope in the future, people will seriously learn that attacking a game with your words has little to no effect. Also, whatever you do, no matter how mad you are, don’t attack the developers online over this or threaten them. That makes you a garbage person. Be better. 

[bonesbuckleup]

Lord, this answer got long. I’m a little embarrassed about it, but I wrote it, so it’s getting posted. It’s a literal essay. Sorry but also not?

TLDR: Yes, the show is arguably unfair to Sokka about Kya, but it also follows a pattern where Sokka stays quiet about Bad Feelings and plays by the rules established for his character. Katara, meanwhile, grieves loudly and often, and appears to be under the impression that because Sokka’s grief is silent it doesn’t exist, which also fits her character/interactions completely. Neither of them are right or wrong, but it sets them up on inevitable collisions.

Now. If you want to join me on a cactus-juice fueled descent into madness, proceed below the cut.

Number one. We’re referring to this exchange in “The Southern Raiders,” where the Gaang is talking about Zuko and Katara going after the man who killed Kya, which is vicious and brutal and never reflected on:

Aang: You sound like Jet. Katara: It's not the same! Jet attacked the innocent. This man, he's a monster. Sokka: Katara, she was my mother, too, but I think Aang might be right. Katara (angry, yelling): Then you didn't love her the way I did! Sokka (visibly hurt, softly): Katara.

And that’s it. Upon returning, Katara apologizes to Aang and not, as Anon is absolutely correct in pointing out, to Sokka, who is 100% the more injured party. Now. Is it possible this is one of the rare missteps from the atla writers? Yes. Absolutely. Is that the answer I’m about to write a literal fucking essay about? No. Because it’s more painful fun to take it as face value and talk subtext.

First, a reminder that this show is fucking good at what it does. It teaches you how each character grieves as we go: Aang explodes, often triggering the Avatar state, usually crying or angry, and when he does try to repress his Bad Feelings it rarely lasts longer than a day; Toph either shuts down or gets mad, but either way she doesn’t like people seeing her having Bad Feelings and often storms away, knowing that she can’t control it no matter how much she might want to; Zuko yells at the sky in a rainstorm or yells at his dad in an underground tunnel or challenges Zhao to an Agni Kai or yells at his uncle in a jail cell and generally is an emotive nuclear bomb because the boy has feelings and if he keeps them inside for more than three seconds he might explode okay.

Then we have Katara and Sokka.

Let’s start with Katara, since she has the most textual and straightforward displays of grief. She’s really the only one to talk about Kya’s death in Book 1. If Sokka mentions it, it’s barely in passing. I don’t think we hear Hakoda address her death at all (which I’ll return to in a moment.) Katara’s grief is loud. It’s angry. It’s still very much a living thing for her. She thinks she sees Kya in the swamp and breaks down crying, and tells Aang and Sokka about it with no hesitation. When she’s angry and sad at Hakoda for leaving, she acts out and is visibly upset with him, yells at him, cries at him. She out-loud hates Zuko when she comes to the conclusion that he told her about Ursa and got her to talk about Kya to manipulate her. It isn’t that her grief is performative, because it’s a very real and terrible thing, but it’s a grief that’s to be witnessed.

Then, Sokka. Sokka’s grief is more complicated because it exists almost entirely in subtext, especially in regard to Kya. We really only hear him talk about Kya twice, both in Book 3. First, to Toph, when he tells her that he can’t remember what Kya looks like. Worth noting, however, that even though it is Sokka talking, this is still centered on Katara and Katara’s grief. The next time is when Zuko asks what happened to Kya, and Sokka tells the story that leads into the initial flashback. Sokka doesn’t talk about his mom. This is a fact of the show. It’s such a fact of the show that, in “Southern Raiders,” after the exchange at the start of this post, while Katara and Zuko are on the hunt, Sokka doesn’t bring up Kya again and is messing around with Aang. Like nothing has happened or is currently happening--which I’ll come back to in a moment.

So while we can use Kya as a perfect example of how Katara grieves, we can’t really use her for Sokka. So let’s use Yue instead. Moments we see (or don’t see) Sokka grieving Yue:

In the opening to Book 2, we briefly have a shot of Sokka with the moon imposed behind him.

“The Swamp,” where Sokka’s vision is of Yue accusing him of not protecting her. This one is one of the more textual moments of grief--”I think about Yue all the time”--but what’s awful great about it is how Sokka tells Aang and Katara. Aang, obviously, has no qualms about sharing his vision. Katara openly talks about seeing Kya. Sokka only tells them about Yue when explicitly asked. Even then, he doesn’t mention what she said to him. From this, we can assume that Sokka is still holding onto a lot of guilt over her death--guilt that he won’t let Aang and Katara see. Anyway. Moving on.

“The Serpent’s Pass.” After spending all day panic protecting Suki, he tells her that he lost someone, but doesn’t go much further into detail, just saying that he can’t when she tries to kiss him. Of course, this is all happening in front of the moon. Again, though, Sokka stays vague. He doesn’t tell her any details.

“The Puppetmaster,” Toph posits that maybe the moon spirit has gone mean and is kidnapping people. Sokka snaps at her, in a moment definitely meant for laughs, saying, “The Moon Spirit is a gentle, loving lady. She rules the sky with compassion and ... lunar goodness!” It is a funny moment, but here’s what we can take from it: Toph doesn’t know about Yue. Toph is a Feral Bastard a lot of the time, but she also knows where the line is, and I don’t think she’d’ve said that if she’d known.

“Boiling Rock,” in arguably the most quoted (and well deservedly so!) line in the entire show. “My first girlfriend turned into the moon.” “...that’s rough, buddy.” COMEDIC GOLD. Also, weirdly, the literal only time that Sokka explicitly tells someone about Yue in the course of the show.

“Ember Island Players” which I haven’t hit in my rewatch yet, but I definitely remember a moment where Suki asks Sokka when he was gonna tell her he made out with the moon, and he tearfully shushes her. Again, played for laughs, but the implication is that he still hasn’t told Suki about what happened.

This plays perfectly into the same way that Sokka (doesn’t) talks about his mom. When the Bad Feelings come, Sokka either avoids them and finds a distraction (Goofs with Aang--see, told ya we’d come back to that) or stays silent. When someone explicitly asks him about the Bad Feelings--what he saw in the swamp, what’s eating at him in “Sokka’s Master,” why he’s panic-protecting Suki--he’ll answer, but often talks around the actual issue. (Interestingly, it’s in regard to Suki we see the most explicit manifestation of Sokka grieving as Azula taunts him during the invasion: he cries, he attacks Azula, he yells and questions her despite the fact he knows she’s wasting their time. I think this one hits him because, as this beautiful post points out, Suki’s the protector in the relationship, and Sokka can actually chill out for 2 seconds. But he let his guard down, and Azula got Suki. Anyway. That’s probably a different essay: back to the matter at hand.) We even see this in “Boiling Rock.” There’s a moment where they think Hakoda is not with the other political prisoners. Sokka’s tense, drawn tight, but the only thing he says is, “No.”

Basically, we’ve got Katara, who grieves loudly and rages and is kinda like white-water rapids that churn and churn and churn. And we’ve got Sokka, who, to quote John Mulaney, looks at his grief and says, “I’ll just keep all my emotions right here and then one day I’ll die.” Iceberg grief, to keep the water metaphor going.

And where did these come from? Yup! Water Tribe gender roles! What we know from the show is that, while the South is typically more progressive (women can train as benders and marry who they want, at least) than the North, it’s still very rigid: the men are warriors/hunters/protectors, the women stay home to cook/clean/child-rear.

Now: subtext! And why I think they are this way!

We’ll start with Katara. The last waterbender in the South Pole. She no doubt grew up doted on. If I say she’s most likely a little spoiled, I don’t mean it in a bad way--I mean it in a she’s the last living remnant of this aspect of their culture kind of way. When raiders come, she’s probably the first priority to protect. Kya dies to keep her safe. Her needs are generally put before the community as a whole. (This isn’t to say that Katara doesn’t contribute or care about her community, because she 100% does). But! Especially in Book 1, we see Katara often considering her opinions as facts (trusting Jet, the waterbending scroll) and doesn’t always pause to consider the larger impact that her actions will have (scroll and Jet again, challenging Pakku, dressing up as the Painted Lady despite the fact the factory will hold the village responsible). And many of these actions are good! But we see a lot of Katara being pretty self-centered--what can I do, how does this impact me, how do I feel about this? And this isn’t a bad thing! This aspect of her character makes her complicated and complex! Katara loves her family and protecting people and caring for them! She’s extremely empathetic! But she also struggles to meet people where they’re at when they emote in a different way than she does (see: her clashes with Toph, her initial problems with Zuko joining the group, the above interaction with Sokka). It’s also worth talking about how Katara witnessed her mother’s death, which no doubt makes her grief about it a sharper thing.

Then, again, Sokka. Also loved in his community! But a normal kind of love, I’d assume. He probably was raised on stories of the Fire Nation dragging waterbenders away. No one exemplifies the Water Tribe ride-or-die mentality quite as well as Sokka, or the gender roles of the man as the warrior/protector, so you gotta believe Hakoda raised that kid to look after his sister at all costs, which we see throughout the show (already preparing to go after Aang in the South Pole because he know Katara’s going anyway, “You burned my sister!”) And he isn’t there when his mom dies. He finds out later. He goes from feeling like a victor who helped chased the raiders away to the worst realization of his life. I have to imagine he’s ashamed by the fact that he thought everything was going to be okay, which leads into his worldview of assuming that nothing is okay ever in any circumstance.

Finally, Hakoda. Who never, unless I’ve forgotten something, talks about Kya. All we know is that their family fell apart after her death (per Sokka in “The Runaway,” learning how Katara stepped up to hold everything together) and sometime after he took the warriors and straight up left. He apologizes for leaving but doesn’t address the fact that he left Katara and Sokka with no parents at all, only the war. This is, uh, not exactly echoing a healthy coping mechanism?

My theory: Kya dies. Since the Water Tribe is so embedded in gender roles, Hakoda probably shut down and/or checked out emotionally for a while. This leaves his kids on their own to deal with their shit, and we learn Katara does everything she can to keep her family going. As the most protected individual in the South, Katara’s probably been taught that emotions equal attention, and uses her temper/caring/sadness to help bring her community closer. Meanwhile, Sokka, who hero worships his dad, watches Hakoda go stoic and learns that “real men” shove their shit down. Additionally, Katara’s grief is deafeningly loud, and Sokka’s number 1 role is to keep Katara safe. He’s taught that the Bad Feelings only get in the way and make things worse, and so he learns to be fine no matter what kind of terrible is going down around him.  Basically, Katara learns to use grief as a needle and thread, and Sokka learns to bury it as deep as he can and avoid it at all costs. Opposite reactions to the same trauma. Katara gets mad and demands to be heard and listened to and seen, and Sokka gets sarcastic and prepares himself for the day the Fire Nation ships come back for his sister.

So. Back to those above lines from “Southern Raiders.”

From a writing standpoint, I do wish the final moment was between Katara and Sokka versus Katara and Aang. They could’ve had an almost identical interaction, but it would’ve been more nuanced. I don’t think that Katara needed to apologize, but I think we needed some acknowledgement from both of them: Katara continuing the lesson she’s learned about how her pain doesn’t entitle her to hurt other people (including Sokka, who is there no matter what she says or does), and Sokka that Katara’s process of grieving had to involve this catharsis.

Or. Maybe not. Because again--subtext. Their grief works in such different ways that I have to imagine this isn’t a new fight. It was probably brutal and vicious for a very long time. Maybe that’s part of what made Sokka try and go with the warriors. Maybe that’s part of why Katara gets mad so quickly in the first episode of the show. But eventually, unable to find an answer, they just...stop talking about it. Because the two of them don’t talk about it. Katara only talks about her mom with people who aren’t Sokka, and Sokka does exclusively to Toph and Zuko.

The only time I can think of Katara and Sokka talking about it together is the exchange at the top of this post, and it gets ugly fast, and it isn’t brought up again. It’s a fight that will never be resolved, because they fundamentally can’t react to one another in a way that can be universally understood.

“You didn’t love her the way I did!” Katara yells, loudly, because if Sokka loved her then why isn’t he raging? Why isn’t he getting his sword and coming to help her? Why doesn’t Sokka want to burn this firebender to the ground and make him see and hear and look at what he’s done to the world? To their family? He must not understand. He must not care as much or he’d be screaming with her.

“Katara,” Sokka says, much quieter, and adds nothing else. Not because there isn’t anything else to say, but because Sokka can’t talk about this kind of thing. Not doesn’t want to, but can’t, because it’s his job to protect people, protect Katara, and if he lets all those old hurts come boiling up he can’t do that, because that ends with losing focus and losing control and people getting hurt or going away. Why can’t she understand that?

And then they do what they always do. They don’t bring it up again.

[lordymaru]

I'm about to refute this entire essay with the simple explanation being:

The only interaction we've seen of these two is when she's a freaking 8 year old. Your self insert shows no boundaries.

And this is probably the last time I'll make a post about the stupidity behind the way the pair is viewed:

Note: I know there's people out there with a brain who ship these two in a more conventional way. In the end you do you, ship whatever you want, no one can prevent you from doing that, just don't be gross about it.

One of the parts being the Significance of their first encounter:

She’s a poor peasant girl who’s suffered immense trauma, suffering, and loneliness. Her initiative to help Sesshomaru came from her generosity

Exactly, she's alone for her family had been killed before her eyes, the villagers treat her like garbage. When she meets Sess he's wounded and simply in a bad state, both mentally and physically. Both of them are, the difference being he's a demon, a powerful one and for him to have ended in such a bad shape only stabbed at his pride- Rin on the other hand is a child, a human tiny child who is vulnerable and to him she poses no threat. Both of them are weak then.

At this point, it’s observable that despite knowing her story, her scars, and her difficulties, humans do not even empathize, let alone sympathize with Rin. It is the feudal era, after all. She’s a young, disabled orphan and the villagers only see her for what she lacks: a voice, a family, and a place of belonging.

Again with your feudal era shit. I can assure you the world is just as ugly today as it was before you and I existed. Next.

When he asks about her bruises, this is the first time anyone had ever afforded her a second glance.

This was a huge step forward for Sess, a huuuuuuge one for he showed interest in another living creature, not just any creature but a human. And for her it was probably like Christmas, for no one had showed her any mercy or interest. Ok you get a point. But oh, boy, how I'm about to spit on the next one:

The audience can see Sesshomaru calculate her body language, recognizing that she is mute. Instead of pressing her further or ignoring her outright, he attempts to comfort her (in his own way), making her feel that it is okay if she chooses not to answer him; that her desire to reply to him should only be a desire, not an obligation. I think, on one hand, that was the first moment of something that would resemble compassion that Sesshomaru had ever administered, trying to put himself in her shoes — if someone had asked him to do something that required, for example, his left arm, he probably would have appreciated them saying “you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to” so to provide him agency for something that he actually cannot do. And the same goes for Rin. He recognizes her disability, maybe even resonates with it and decides to empower her with a choice. Choice is important when it comes to the Sesshomaru/Rin dynamic and it’s a word that will come up often. 

Ok why are you comparing the loss of his arm to her not being able to talk? Not all disabilities are the same, you moron. Or am I dumb for thinking this way? If so, feel free to call me out on my lack of common sense kr whatever you wanna call it. Sess physically couldn't do shit with his left arm because well- it was gone! That's a physical disability. Rin had "lost" her voice after what she witnessed and so she wouldn't speak anymore. Have you heard of Psychogenic Dysphonia? If not, you can click here and give it a reading or do your own research. The more you know: https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S0892199703000158

So you say he "empowers her with a choice" that is "important when it comes to the Sesshomaru/Rin dynamic" let me get this straight, a choice because why? She's a child? A female? Because you said so yourself, it's the Feudal Era after all and therefore women had no choice in life, no voice, no agency, no nothing. So he was being magnanimous then? You know... This is where you start edging into the gr00ming territory. Can't you see? No? Alright, moving on.

BRUH WHAT THE FUCK?! Are you fucking good? See how you self insert? Bye. Next

The next time Sesshomaru sees Rin, it is suggested that he actively sought her, whether it be by curiosity or concern for well-being

He did... It is not suggested, he actually did asdfhkl. For both curiosity and he probably was worried. He also states he wants to test out his sword, what a perfect chance to do so for Rin is pretty much dead and that's the only way to make his sword work. So she was both being a guinea pig and an itch he wasn't quite sure how to scratch. Next.

Silence Rin.

Rin screams endlessly, annoying Sesshomaru. Firstly, this is the first time we hear him call her by her name. Secondly, Sesshomaru is visibly annoyed by her noises, however, he does not tell her to “shut up” as he normally would with Jaken or even InuYasha. He simply says “enough of that Rin, stop it.” (In Japanese he says, “Silence, Rin. You make too much noise.”) Even analyzing the Japanese dialogue, it is evidently softer than Sesshomaru’s usual ‘kisama’ (貴樣) manner of speech that we see depicted usually. This is the first time he’s had a companion who is not a demon, someone with compassion, and who has had his general best interests at heart with no expectations in return. His softer tone is a logical deduction to make.

Ok... "someone with compassion, and who has had his general best interests at heart with no expectations in return." Bruh... As if he would even consider meeting someone's expectations. Are you sure you're talking about Sess? Another thing is, he always speaks in a calm tone, he rarely yells or loses his composure- he had no reason to be rude to her either, you're excusing his regular behavior simply because she ain't Jaken. Anything else?

Rin doesn't change Sesshomaru overnight, it's a gradual and long process

Well duh!!! Just like you don't lose the pounds you gained from eating in one sit 12 donuts a week ago. Stating the obvious and for what? What's exactly your mf point?

The silence part is important, idk how to tell you there is a power imbalance in their relationship from the moment he tells her to be quiet. He didn't say please, he didn't ask her to, he told her to be quiet. Like a parent would, if I could count the times my mom told me to shush.... That's your first indicator he is not her friend, he is not her equal.

Letting you Be Yourself: The Panther Demon Arc

the first frame the audience sees in the anime sets the scene, painting the Sessshomaru entourage in a serene manner, indicating a level of comfort between group members (episode 75). This is vastly different from our last depiction of Sesshomaru and Rin’s relationship. In episode 44, he was unable to withstand her (albeit annoying) childish antics. But here, it’s observable that Sesshomaru can accept her and her package of unconventional fun. Not only does he tolerate and even more so, accept Rin, but he accepts her influence on his vassal, Jaken and allows them to be free around him.

Is called developing patience. I can assure you that when you're a parent or an older bro/sis and your kid/younger sibling is noisy af you either learn to tolerate that or get used to it for kids are kids abd you have to let them be kids. Next.

She's a child, she's not stupid.

The Abducted Rin: Calling her Name

The respect that Sesshomaru shows Rin is insurmountable. However, the InuYasha franchise is clever to portray the subtlety of Sesshomaru’s respect for her. KV on Twitter points out how highly he regards his companion and never relegates her to anything less than the value that she as a person embodies (@KVndie via Twitter). He consistently humanizes her. 

He only sees how important she is to him after her ass dies a second time. What do you mean? He respects her enough to not coddle her, she is independent and taught her to be self sufficient from the very start. That's respect. He consistently humanizes her because... She ... Is ... Human! OMG WHAT A SHOCKER!

As Naraku remarks on his hostage to Sesshomaru, "Naturally, the girl you're looking for is not here…,” he continues, “the girl is in custody outside of the castle..." Naraku never makes an attempt to give her personhood, leaving her unnamed, disposable, and relegating her to a mere "girl." But Sesshomaru doesn’t take any of this. He is a cold-hearted Daiyokai, yet he still makes an effort and upholds his principle to refer to her as Rin — not a replaceable “girl.”

Naraku is a mf genius. It didn't quite click until now he wanted to see if she was important or not to him and to what extent. For he planned his moves that way, making people turn against one another. While he wouldn't have made Rin turn against Sess he set everything up so he would end up wanting to kill Kohaku and in doing so, Inugang would have engaged against Sess.

Sesshomaru’s insistence on using Rin’s name isn’t only highlighted in this isolated incident though. It pays off. It is an ongoing theme in their dynamic throughout the series.

That's her name ... How you want him to call her? Baby?

I could go on and on but... This is a fucking essay. And then I stumble against more bullcrap:

The second point I want to highlight here is Sesshomaru’s reaction to Rin’s fall and her risky expedition. At this point, it’s unquestionable that Rin has a special place in his heart.

Of course she has a special spot in his heart. I won't deny that. What worries me is how you're trying to justify the way she's important to him since she was a child. As if his way of seeing her had changed.

I'm gonna disagree by agreeing with you in a few pointers. Kagome and Kikyo were rivals, they both romantically love the same guy. Kagome being the only one who could save Kikyo chooses to help her, knowing damn well Inuyasha would have suffered if Kikyo had died- further more, if it was in Kagome's hands to do something about it.

Rin on the other hand, I will applaud to her how she grew past her fear of Kagura after being kidnapped by her, she saw her body in the river and said fuck it and did her best to try to pull her from the water. I loved how stubborn and brave she was, even tho Sess had to pull everyone out of the water- she deserves a gold star. You go baby girl!!!

Rin later makes a cheeky comment, noting Kagura’s romantic interest in Sesshomaru. Jaken brushes this off as childish naivety. But for the spectator, this establishes two things: (1) That Rin does not see Kagura as a rival for Lord Sesshomaru’s attention, let alone affection; and (2) that Rin is still a child. Rin is certainly a child, with a youthful and fresh outlook on life that brings out the best in people. But even as a child, her relationship with Sesshomaru is incredibly healthy, clear, and surprisingly communicative.

Why would she? She's not a spoiled brat

Nah? I thought her double D indicated otherwise. OF COURSE SHE'S A MF CHILD.

Why do you keep mentioning is healthy? Do you need reassurance of it? Communicative in what way? Cuz if you wanna talk about communication let's talk about how he didn't even acknowledge her ass when she gave birth. He didn't even say her name, didn't even look at her. Tell me now how they are communicative and healthy?

I could go on, I really but all I'm getting from this load of bullshit I'm forcing myself to read is how you do in fact need to reassure yourself thr ship is god tier and is... How you said it was? Ah, healthy.

Anyways, thanks for reading and if you see any typo ... My apologies, I tried. Also if you have any input or I was out of line in some way, my apologies once more.

[leonajasmin-writeblr]

Thank you for the tag @westywrites! I really enjoyed reading your snippets. The words I was given were worldbuilding related: world, land, ocean/sea, and city/town! I'll be using Part 1 of The Mastery:

WORLD:

“I managed to get out early, almost thirty years ago. Relatives have changed appearances and have had time to bring more lives into the world. I need to see if they have discernible features.”

“Why would I feel inclined to celebrate my life when I’m not happy with it? The woman who brought me into the world is nothing more than a rotting corpse and the man who put me in her doesn’t give a crap.”

Considering Arima had only been a thing for one-and-a-quarter centuries, the origins were still so vague to us modern folk. We presumed there was a world outside of the dome, but what was outside there was hiding itself from us.

“Don’t you dare talk about my arm in such a way. I lost my arm playing a game. A game that children should be able to play in peace without a fear in the world. I was ten, Luka. Ten!”

I was only five when I last saw Roman, but my memories of him were still so vivid. On the rare occasion I had a good regression, I went back to the times where we were together without a care in the world.

“If I could get a perfect solution together, I’d have enacted it long ago. But the world is screwed up and humanity is selfish, so I have to compromise."

“She holds out hope for good things, but acts like she’s given up on the world. I’ve known her long enough to know she’s not confident enough to show the real her. It’s sad that she doesn’t.”

Everyone in this family died or kept secrets. That was how the world worked, whether I liked it or not.

“Aid and No think the world of her to boot,” Uzo remarked, “So if that’s true and they become girl dads, their daughters will be fine.”

“You’re a Master. I know you have a good work ethic ingrained in you, but if you don’t get excellent grades, it’s not the end of the world. You don’t need a job. I know you have one, but it’s not necessary.”

“I guess I have to thank him for bringing you into the world.”

I was crying because my whole world had turned upside down.

I couldn’t hear their words, but Sebastian looked hurt and angry. Angry at the world rather than him being angry directly at Phineas. I’d ask what this was all about at another time.

My ability came late. There were a bunch of conspiracies why; some said it was because I took my sweet time coming into this world, others because Dimitri and Tolys were also late bloomers so it must’ve just been an Ivanov thing.

LAND:

"We know its natural value; Phinea’s economy remains weak so may not have done extractions to the same extent we would, thus not knowing its potential. Without that knowledge, Elena would be useless land apart from a natural border- it’s not arable and only has a small population.”

The people of Vanska had many opinions as to what happened the day the airship crashed. Some believe it was a mistake Romulus hadn’t fixed in time. Others believe that Grandfather commanded he crashed the ship. Others believed Romulus intended to murder Grandfather. Even more others thought Grandfather had suddenly died and Romulus was so panicked that he couldn’t land the ship safely.

The Free Transport Zone. Phinea and Willsborg had managed to shove Anthonian’s out of the land right up against the Central Empire's wall and had a train line running straight along the side of it. Since declaring it as either Empire would be a declaration of war with Anthonia, it was just deemed ‘free land’. AKA, it belonged to everyone bar Anthonia, despite being in Anthonia.

OCEAN/SEA:

I haven't used either word as there aren't any seas or oceans in my novel, only lakes, rivers, and canals :)

CITY/TOWN:

Even though Mindeya was in Eastern Phinea, there had been anti-Anthonian groups emerging throughout the city and Empire regarding the illegal immigrants foremost. Sure, there were a few bad apples, but I didn’t see the majority as thieving scammers like they were portrayed as. I’d met quite a few in my darker days- they too had resorted to bad things to forget their traumas for a few hours.

He twiddled his thumbs, “My name is Augustus, although I’ve always gone by August. You know that, Sebastian. You also know I live in a village which is a short train journey outside Mindeya; I visit the city to do my shopping."

Miriam asked if we had missed anything in the woods- we hadn’t- before asking about Mindeya. Nothing to do with its inhabitants, but about the city itself.

Uzo’s father was Head of the Willsborg Merchant Navy. Canals and rivers veined through their Empire, so trade and transport were largely done on barges and boats. When I was getting set up with Noah, I’d been taken on a tour from their usual townhouse in the city to their mansion in the nearby countryside.

Anyone in the region it’s hosted in gets to put a bid in for a slot at a contest, and those who do have to bring their best fruit, veg, and flowers to their region’s city to get assessed. There’s usually a voting panel consisting of the Grand, Secondary, and Tertiary Masters, as well as the Mayor of the city and the Regional Leader. There’s a bunch of prizes on offer given by local companies in exchange for promotion, and they’ll win a set amount of those if they win.”

“Geeze,” He sighed, “Well, we’re on the outskirts of the city now. Best of luck in whatever you’ve been asked to do, kiddo.”

“Not much has happened in Ingla since the last meeting was only ten weeks ago,” Sardonicism dominated his tone, “But all my grandchildren are doing well. All bar my eldest are in school and have started the new academic year, and Anguo will be doing his first formal visit to another city on his own next month.”

I only have one instance of town, bar two locations called ___town. I won't include those as they'd make this post twice as long haha:

“It’s pretty dull,” Sebastian answered, “And small. Only the rich live there, and we don’t have many rich people in Phinea anymore; they’re all in the offshoot towns. And there’s only a few buildings that’re generally impressive.”

I’m going to keep the worldbuilding/geography theme and ask my tags to find the words tree, flower, river, and sky. Andddd my tags are going to be @rhiannon-writes, @el-norawrites, and tagging @westywrites back! Only if you want to of course, and I’m happy for anyone to partake/tag me in their tag games :)