#on the other two people who used to be enemies but one of them is defeated then saved by the other
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Dark Seduction
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*pairing: boxer spiderman-venom Jay x radio university Girl
*trope: roomates to enemies to lovers
*synopsis: What would happen if your roommate who doesn't like you told you that you're too curious and nosy about always talking about this vigilante with the nickname of Black Spiderman-Venom on university radio? Doing 2+2 with all the clues that Jay left you understood that he was the vigilante of the city but you discovered him in an unexpected way with the personality of Jay but also the mysterious and sneaky Venom
*tags: A lot of tension, they love to tease each other, Jay is the eggermente arrogant at the beginning of the story, possessing, protecting, body shaping in Spiderman-Venon, tentacles, unprotected sex (don’t horny ppl) masturbation (f.receives) kisses, sucking, touching, licking, curiosity, white lies.
6.1k (🕷️) (English is not my native language)
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The University radio was your kingdom. From eight o'clock in the morning, your voice filled campus frequencies, informing and entertaining sleepless students with your brilliant spirit and sharp tongue.
"Good morning to all listeners! Here is your favorite student radio to speak to you, the voice of the University of Seoul, and today we talk about him... the mysterious vigilante who is making the news crazy. He wears a black suit, moves in the shadows, and helps people but... let’s face it, he's not exactly the classic hero. Some say that he is a savior, like all the people he is saving. Like the little girl who was saved while a deranged man was kidnapping her and others that he is a monster. What do you think?" said pausing and announcing the new comeback of a K-pop band.
Across the glass, in the small waiting room of the radio, Jake and Sunghoon sat on a crumpled couch, listening to you with funny smiles. They both had coffee in their hands and backpacks lying next to them, waiting for the lessons to start later.
'Again with this story?' Sunghoon snorted, stretching. 'Maybe it’s just a mockingman who dresses up to avoid getting caught.'
-Or maybe it’s a real anti-hero! - Jake said, giving you a fun look. -Like... Batman but even darker.-
You smiled, swiping your finger on the keyboard as you read the live comments. "I think it’s hiding something big. What if it was someone we know or who goes to the same university as us?" you asked with a flash of curiosity in your eyes.
Jake and Sunghoon exchanged a quick, understated glance. They looked like they knew more than they wanted to admit and certainly did not want to be discovered by anyone that they were hiding a secret even bigger than themselves.
-Hey, stop making a thousand theories of the plot and then who knows, it could be anyone...- said Jake with a fake innocent air to misdirect the conversation
'Yep, it could be anyone,' added Sunghoon, shrugging.
"But I would pay gold to see it live, I would like too much to see those tentacles and also how he shoots the webs from his hands," you said as you saw the two guys not looking at your face anymore.
"You two are too suspicious. Don’t you know him? Or that you saw him in action? You stepped forward, narrowing your eyes. But before they could answer, the broadcast timer told them that the next song had to start. "And now, folks, I leave you with a piece that has shaped generations as well as Thriller by Michael Jackson. Stay with us!"
You press the button to start the song, then you shoot your fingers towards your roommates. "Okay, now you’re talking. What are you hiding? Have you ever seen him live?"
Jake chuckled and took a sip of his coffee. -Come on, don’t be a detective. Simply, maybe this guy has his reasons for doing what he does and I think that if you saw him live on one side you would be happy because it would save your life but on the other hand according to me you would be afraid if you found him in front of you with all his tentacles and with his Hands that shoot webs- and he laughed at Spiderman’s gesture
You looked at them suspiciously but at the same time you laughed to see Jake so happy, you were ready to press them again, but just then the door of the radio studio opened with a squeak.
Jay made his entrance as if he were the protagonist of a movie, with ripped jeans, and black leather jacket, the usual guitar strap, and the lethal look that could make you shiver and infuriate at the same time.
«Interesting conversation yours,» said Jay with a low voice and loaded with sarcasm, crossing his arms.
«I hope I have not interrupted anything important»
"Oh, nothing," you replied, approaching him with defiance. "Just speculations about our mysterious vigilante friend. Who knows, maybe you know him too. Have you seen how everyone is talking about it?"
Jay tilted his head to the side with an almost amused smile. «I? I have no time for this bullshit, I’m too busy with music and that vigilante should be more careful because every time I hear the news, the police are getting closer to finding his identity» And with that phrase he took your coffee and drank it all and went away throwing you a glance that made you shiver.
That night, outside of Seoul, the storm was raging. You were alone in the house: Jake, Sunghoon, and Jay had all.
Jake was definitely at the university football training, Sunghoon would have been around the city shooting as a model and well Jay would have been in his music office composing music for some record company. The shared apartment with those 3 guys was always full of screaming, laughing and people but that night you were at home alone and you sincerely missed spending time with them; It was for weeks that in the evening they came back late or only one of them returned and you understood that life as a student and worker was different from that of the high school but sometimes you just wanted to spend time with them like in the old days.
You sat on the couch with your phone in hand, carelessly scrolling through Twitter until a trending video caught your attention. A boy along with the vigilante or "Black Spider-Venom" so named by everyone on social media was wearing his black suit and he was saving people in a bank from robbers: he was blocking a car on the way, He stopped a criminal with dark tentacles and protected a woman with a black barrier of spider webs.
Stay glued to the screen for almost an hour, reading comments and police statements.
The police had been saying for days that the superhero or "monster" was between 20 and 25 because they found a backpack with university books but the fatalities were books used in all universities of the state and a snack boy who did sports. So you thought that this guy had two personalities: one was the student who could be anyone and the other a superhero who tried in every way to protect people but also had a dark side as well as the emphasis from Venom and Spiderman.
A deafening thunder shook the house, and you clenched your phone. Then you heard the front door open.
Jay was there, soaking wet, his hair stuck to his forehead, his face marked by fine scratches. You knew that Jay was a boxing athlete and that he trained meticulously but it was strange to see him with scratches and split lips, you tried to talk to him but he closed the door in the face of the bath and sighed and waited anxiously. When he came out, he was wearing a jumpsuit, an old 80’s band shirt that he loved so much and his hair was still wet. He made to go to his room, but you blocked the way.
Jay looked at you with a funny grin. «Problems?»
"What’s the matter?" you asked, crossing your arms, his face was full of small scratches, his lip slightly split and covered with blood and also his hands were bruised
He shrugged his shoulders. «I slipped while boxing, you know it’s not a princess sport and sooner or later you can get hurt and I took a good punch while I was training because I wasn’t careful.» said in a too-serious tone.
You sighed, holding your arms. "I don’t believe you, I know how boxing works, and ok the lip can also stand but those scratches?"
Jay laughed softly, coming one step closer. He was towering over you, the height difference was embarrassing. It was enough of a gesture to grab and push you against the wall.
Why did you always have to stick your nose everywhere? Thought Jay, irritated. He could not stand your insistence, your way of talking to him as if you could decipher every thought.
But beneath his irritation was something else. Something darker. Venom whispered inside him, hungry.
It is small... fragile. We could break it or make it our own.
Jay chased away those thoughts with a deep breath, but the voice inside him laughed. He made to open the door of his room, but you grabbed his wrist and dragged him into your room. "Sit down. I will take care of you."
He nodded, looking at you with a shadow of amusement. But inside him, Venom was agitating. How nice it would be to see her below us, to hear her tremble, fill her until she can’t think of anything but us...
Jay clenched his jaw. Fucking symbiote...he thought as he saw you go back to your room with the first aid kit you used to disinfect the beatings that Jake was getting, as well as your cousin at soccer or perhaps in some other way but did not deny that the idea was damn inviting to have you all for himself as he so desired.
You took the first-aid kit and sat next to Jay. He looked at you with his usual funny grin, the air of not taking anything seriously, but there was something strange in his eyes. Something darker. Deeper.
You grabbed his hands to disinfect them and only then did you notice how big they were compared to yours. Your little fingers almost seemed to get lost against his venous hands, with corns here and there for the hours spent playing guitar.
"Wow, you have huge hands," you murmured distressingly, focused on passing the cotton ball over the bruises.
Jay laughed softly, tilting his head. «And you are really small.»
You looked up at him, crossing his dark eyes staring at you with something undefined.
He was teasing you, as usual, but this time there was a different intensity in his words. He seemed... amused, yes, but also curious.
Jay wondered how it was possible that someone like you, so noisy, cheeky, stubborn, could be so delicate in gestures. He was annoyed by how your presence penetrated his skin, like a melody that could not get out of his head. Yet, there was something about you that irritated and attracted him at the same time. Ever since he first met you in the park when you fell off the slide, With the knee peeled and tears running down your face had thought about how dramatic you could be but to the same inside he had promised that he would never want to see you cry again because he would make sure to protect you.
Venom, on the other hand, had completely different thoughts. He was intrigued by you, by your apparent innocence, by your small body that moved with lightness beside him. Jay’s dark side only wanted one thing: branding you, making you his. He imagined you under him, bent to his will, your skin marked by his bites. And the more he tried to ignore it, the more that desire became overwhelming.
You rubbed the scratches gently on your face with disinfectant. Jay stood still, letting you do it, but your gaze lingered for a moment on the mark on his neck, that little dark spot in the shape of a heart or perhaps a butterfly. You bit your lip without realizing it, the indecent thought that crossed your mind was instantaneous and unstoppable. How good would it have been to kiss her? Lick her? Suck her?
You got yourself right back, driving those thoughts away. You shouldn’t have them. Not on him.
You have known him for more than 10 years and you have always found him annoying but it was a while ago that you found him extremely attractive and this thing made you go crazy because he wasn’t even your type with his character "I know everything."
Just then you passed the cotton swab over his split lip and Jay barely moaned, a low, involuntary sound that made you shudder. His breath became heavier, and you noticed him moving, escaping your touch as if he didn’t want to let you do it. It was frustrating.
"Stop moving," you snapped with an exasperated sigh. "Don’t be a baby," you warned him, but you knew he was doing it on purpose.
Jay smiled dangerously. «Don’t be a caring mom. I didn’t know you liked taking care of me.»
"I don’t like it, but if you don’t stand still I can’t finish."
Without thinking about it you put yourself on his legs, only to keep him still and be able to finish the job. But as soon as you did, you knew you’d made a mistake.
Jay curled under you for a moment, before relaxing and bowing his head with a grin that made you tremble.
«Oh... baby, that was a big mistake on your part,» he murmured in a low and husky voice, his hands slid naturally over your thighs, just clutching them but you felt a lot of chills go through your body because of his touch.
His rational side knew that he had to stop, that it was just a game of provocation between you. But Venom... Venom didn’t want to stop at all. He wanted to taste you, feel your body give in under his grip, and hear every sound you could make for him.
«Tell me, what do you think of that guy?» asked Jay, with a mischievous grin as he heard you disinfect him carefully
You bit your lip. "It’s... intriguing. After all, it is for everyone, isn’t it?" you said looking at his expression.
Jay nodded slowly. «Yeah. Maybe a little too much.»
You raised an eyebrow.
"Well, when something spectacular happens it always ends up on social media. That’s normal."
Jay bowed his head, his piercing gaze. «And you’re happy about it, aren’t you? You can’t wait for something exciting to happen to snoop around and talk about it on the radio so are you happy to have new material for your show?»
You smiled. "Sure. I love my work, both on radio and social media."
Jay came a little closer, his fingers slid down your back in a barely perceptible touch. «You’re too curious,» he murmured. «You also have the habit of asking too many questions.»
"Informed," you corrected.
«Curious,» he repeated, bowing his head with a clever smile
You looked him straight in the eye. "What questions?"
He chuckled. «I see and hear the questions you say you would ask if you found him in person: Who is he? Where does he come from? Why does he do it? What is it like to live two lives? What is it like to have the human part but also the monster part inside? You would like to find out, right?»
You raised your chin in defiance "Maybe yes, you know I was always too curious when we were little"
Jay shook his head, his eyes became darker. «You know, girls who are too curious have a bad end»
You didn’t look down. "I’m not afraid."
Jay was silent for a few seconds, then smiled. «You should.»
You came even closer, challenging him. "I’m afraid of murderers, rapists... not a boy who transforms to save people."
Something changed in him. His breath became heavier, his eyes shone with a dangerous light. Maybe it wasn’t just Jay at that moment Maybe it was something else.
A soft growl made its way through his lips, a low, almost animalistic sound. Venom was emerging. He wanted to test you, to see if you really wouldn’t be afraid when you were in front of him. And Jay couldn’t stop touching you, tightening his grip on your thighs, imagining what it would be like if he gave in to his instincts.
It was at that moment that something changed in Jay. His gaze became darker, more intense. Without giving you time to understand, Jay grabbed your face in his hands and smashed his lips on yours. The kiss was sudden, hungry, almost brutal. There was not only Jay at that moment. There was also something more dark, something more dangerous.
His hands clenched around your hips, holding you glued to him, while his tongue invaded your mouth with a security that made your head turn. You couldn’t even think. All you could do was hold on to him, arms around his shoulders, while your body instinctively reacted to contact.
You felt his fingers sink slightly into your skin, exploring every curve with a possession that made you shiver. Every touch sent sparks down your back, and before you knew it, your body was starting to respond to his.
"Jay..." moaning against his lips when you felt something hard press under you.
Jay smiled at your mouth, but there was something more. That smile wasn’t just his. It was also Venom’s.
His lips fell down your neck, initially leaving gentle, almost sweet kisses. But then the kisses became more insistent, more possessive. You felt him sucking, biting your skin slightly, marking you, leaving marks. Signs that no one else could have erased and you still didn’t know what you were getting into.
Jay’s lips were hot, and hungry, moving on yours with disarming security. His taste was intense, the breath barely altered as his hands clenched more tightly on your thighs, holding you firmly against him. Every touch of it seemed to leave a mark on your skin, an invisible mark that made you shiver and want even more.
He detached himself from you only for a moment, his dark eyes full of something indecipherable, a mix between the Jay you knew and another presence that seemed more and more domineering.
«Tell me...» he murmured, his voice was husky, charged with something that made you tremble and light at the same time. «Would you like to interview Venom?»
You looked at him with a mixture of curiosity and excitement, the chest rising and falling faster. "Yes," you answered without hesitation, with the desire to dig into that mystery that attracted you like a magnet. "I would ask him a lot of questions."
Jay smiled, but there was something dark behind that grin, a shadow that fascinated and frightened you at the same time. A hand slid under your shirt, fingers touching the bare skin of your side with an exasperating slowness. You shivered and he noticed it, lowering himself slightly to whisper in your ear.
«Venom has never been interviewed by anyone...» he paused, letting his warm breath caress your skin. «And if he did, he would want something in return.»
You looked into his eyes, your heart beating hard in your chest. "How do you know?" you asked, even if deep down you already sensed the answer.
Jay tilted his head to the side, his smile became sweeter, but no less predatory. "Maybe because Venom is much closer to you than you think.»
And as he said it, the change came before your eyes.
The black of the suit seemed to emerge directly from his skin, wrapping it in a slimy and eerie embrace, making it look bigger, more imposing. The symbol of Spider-Man shone on his chest, his body now a perfect balance between muscles and the dark power of Venom. But his face, which was still uncovered, as if he wanted you to see the man behind the monster.
Your breath stopped in your throat when you felt something cold and sinuous slip under your shirt.
A black tentacle touched your bare skin, caressing you with an exasperating slowness, making you shiver.
Jay- or maybe Venom- looked at you with bright eyes, his voice now more guttural, deeper.
«I want you all to myself,» he murmured, and her tone was an obscure promise. «And not only today.» His hands came back on you, stronger, safer.
«You may ask me any question,» he added, a mischievous grin spreading on his lips. «To Venom... or Jay.»
Your hands trembled as they slid over the black suit, feeling the strange but fascinating texture of the living material that enveloped it. It was warm under the fingers, pulsating as if it had a life of its own. When your fingers touched his biceps, the consistency changed, revealing the hard and sculpted flesh of his muscles.
Without thinking too much, you started sliding the suit off, slowly discovering her body. And fuck... it was beautiful. Perfect in an almost surreal way, with the skin stretched on defined muscles, some scratches here and there, and those damned tentacles that seemed to move with a will of their own. But for some reason, you didn’t feel scared. Maybe you should have, but the idea didn’t even occur to you.
Jay looked at you with a mixture of surprise and something else, something darker. «You... aren’t afraid?»
His rational part was confused, but Venom... Venom was damn smug. You could feel it in the air, in the tension between you. Her already overblown ego seemed to grow even more when she saw you so close, so curious instead of terrified.
You leaned over him, letting your lips touch his skin. Your warm breath tickled his neck as you began to kiss the heart-shaped birthmark perhaps a butterfly- that he had there. Jay closed his eyes for a moment, a sigh escaped from his lips, but when he opened them again there was something more dangerous in that look.
«You’re getting into trouble, you know?» he murmured in a husky voice.
I murmured in a hoarse voice. «Because when I fill you... it will not be just me.»
Those words made you shiver, but you did not stop. You continued to kiss his skin softly, savoring the warmth of his body. You looked up at him, your eyes shining with curiosity.
"Who did you save today?"
Jay barely smiled, a crooked smile, almost amused by your attempt to distract him. «A bank. There was a robbery.»
Annuded, without stopping to leave him little kisses on the tense muscles. He was seriously the vigilante, you had had him in front of your eyes for a long time and your doubts had come to light some time ago but you finally knew the truth. When your lips touched a scratch, he made a slight movement, almost imperceptible.
"Then you did a good job," you whispered, sliding your fingers over another mark on her skin.
Jay bowed his head, looking at you. «Do you want me to make the tentacles disappear?»
For a moment you considered the idea, and then you looked up at him with a curious smirk. "Venom would be happy if you let go of your tentacles?"
His expression changed. Jay puffed, but his eyes darkened slightly as a tentacle slowly brushed your back under your shirt. «Yes,» he admitted. "It would be.»
He paused, then added in a lower tone: «It’s hard to live with two personalities. Venom only comes out when I transform... Otherwise, I’m just the usual Jay.»
You looked at him, tilting your head slightly. "So, in a way, you are two different people?"
Jay stared at you, then smiled. «You’re not stupid at all, are you?»
You were winning. You felt it. You were asking questions, asking questions, taking him exactly where you wanted. But what you didn’t expect was that, at some point, Venom would notice. And it wouldn’t have worked out for him.
Your lips kept coming down her body, tracing a line of kisses on her warm, scratched skin. When you reached his navel, you heard Jay moaning softly your name, his irregular breath against your neck.
«You’re playing with fire, you know?» he murmured, his voice roaring, crossed by a thread of fun and something darker.
But before you could answer, a deep growl vibrated in the room.
"You’re too slow, Jay," Venom hissed into the boy’s mind. "This prey is ours. We must claim it."
Jay clenched his jaw, trying to maintain control. But he knew it was impossible with you. With you, Venom had too much desire to emerge.
Then, without warning, he pushed you gently backward, making you lie down under him. His dark eyes were burning reflections of something more primordial. More dangerous. You instinctively caressed his hair, your fingers intertwining between the dark locks. Jay closed his eyes for a moment, as if he wanted to taste your touch but it was only a moment.
When he opened them again, a grin cut off his lips.
«Do you realize what you’re doing?» he whispered, lowering her head to the edge of your ear. «Do you know how tempting you are? Or maybe... are you doing it on purpose?»
Its length rubbed against thy center, and thy breath broke.
Venom chuckled in Jay’s mind. "Look how she reacts. So hot. So ready. She’s ours. I want to hear her pleading."
Jay swallowed, fighting the way Venom was trying to overwhelm him. But he was on the edge of the abyss too.
«I can’t wait to fill you up,» he said in a loud, low, hypnotic tone. «Both me and him.»
His hands slipped on your hips, holding you tight as he lifted you slightly towards himself. His fingertips drew fire lines on your naked skin.
He took off your shirt slowly, with a deliberate slowness that made you shudder. Then he looked down at you, his eyes shining with desire.
«You are so sensitive,» he murmured, his lips resting on your hard buds, his tongue caressing them, his teeth teasing them with sweet cruelty. «Tell me, how will you take all of me?»
You rolled your back, "Jay" a moan escaped from your lips and inside him, Jay was struggling. A part of him wanted to take you with an almost painful sweetness, like a cat that enjoys teasing his prey before giving it the final blow but Venom... did not want to play. Venom wanted to eat you and you didn’t know what you were into.
His lips moved along your skin, descending ever lower, leaving a trail of warm and possessive kisses. Jay’s breath deepened as it reached your breasts, his tongue drawing circles around your tight buds before wrapping them completely.
You moan his name, your head slightly bent backward, your senses now completely overwhelmed by him.
Jay looked up at you with a satisfied grin, his eyes shining with something darker, deeper.
«Call me as you like,» he whispered, his voice stinging and dangerous. «Jay... or Venom.»
His tone made you shudder, but you nodded, hands still clinging to his hair. " Yes..." you murmured, your breath broken by excitement.
Jay smiled at your skin before coming down again, his hands caressing you with exasperating slowness. He took off your pajamas without haste, enjoying every second that your body revealed itself to him.
Then he looked down at your exposed center and a lascivious whisper slipped from his lips.
«You are already so soaked...» he muttered, the fingers that touched your intimacy with a light but devastating touch. «It is so sensitive... only for me.»
He looked at you carefully, tilting his head slightly.
«Tell me...» whispered, the fingers that kept exploring you without ever giving you enough. «Have you ever thought of me in this way?»
His question hit you in the chest. Your breath stopped, and for a moment there was only silence between you. Then, with a slight movement of the head, you nodded no.
But you couldn’t stand his gaze.
Inside him, Venom hissed amused. Liar.
Jay laughed softly, but his eyes were dark, full of something that made you tremble. «You are a terrible liar,» he said with a smirk. «I see how you look at me.»
And without giving you time to answer, he slipped a finger inside you.
A moan immediately escaped from your lips. "Venom..."
Jay smiled. Or was it Venom?
«Good girl,» he whispered against your skin, while his finger moved slowly inside you, exploring you, testing every reaction.
You shudder, the heart pounding in your chest. " Perhaps... in the past..." your voice was trembling, full of desire, "I... I fantasized about you..."
Jay laughed, satisfied, while inside of him Venom was boiling with pleasure.
«Oh, honey,» whispered Jay, his mouth back to bite your neck, leaving red marks on your skin. «You belong to me now.»
Venom became more brazen, his desire almost tangible. You are ours.
Jay’s breath was erratic, his body tense as he watched you with those deep dark eyes. Venom, however, was scrambling to take control. You felt his presence, a hungry shadow growing in him, ready to claim you.
"Look how fragile she is... so small in our hands," the voice of Venom resounded in the room, low and guttural. "It’s ours. Nobody else can have it, nobody else can touch it."
Jay clenched his jaw, fighting with the creature inside him. "Venom, calm down."
"No," hissed the symbiote. "Can’t you see what he calls it? He wants us both. He wants to feel us inside him. Why should we wait?"
Wet and sloppy sounds fill your ears and Jay’s as he pumps another finger into you, Jay feels how well you took it and how excited your pussy was as he pumped and curls his fingers up and down, Your legs are wriggling as you hear Jay’s tongue slowly pinch and suck on your swollen clitoris for the stimulation you’re receiving, Contrast the muscle with a moan so pronounced that Jay could come all on himself because it was for whole months that he dreamed of hearing your moans, Instead Venom from the first day you met you had thought about how beautiful you were and how much he would want to make you feel good but at the same time take you and make you his and fill you.
"mmhm! It’s too much, I need to come" Your eyes spill into the skull as you feel your body be pervaded by shivers and feel your excitement slowly increase as you come between Jay’s fingers. Jay took his fingers full of white cum into his tongue and tasted you.
«delicious,» he said to you with a rock voice and a shiver ran across your back as Jay touched your face with his fingers, his warm fingertips on your skin. «Are you all right?» His voice was sweet and worried, but there was something deeper in his eyes. Desire.
You looked at it and nodded slowly. "I want both."
It was all that Venom needed to hear. A low growl vibrated in Jay’s chest as the symbiote took over, his hands clenching tighter on your hips. " You hear that, Jay? She wants it. She wants to be ours."
Your trembling fingers slid along the elastic of his suit, slowly lowering it down with his boxers. Your breath stopped for a moment when you saw it in its entirety.
"Fuck... will it fit me completely?" whispering, biting your lip as you watched.
Jay laughed softly, shaking his head. «Only you could make fun of me at a time like this.»
You curled your lips, letting your fingers slide along its length before gently squeezing it and starting to pump it with slow movements, knowing exactly how to make it go crazy. You felt his breath getting heavier as the pre-sperm liquid started to wet the tip.
"I want you..." you said in a low, sensual voice, moving closer to his ear. "But I want both the Jay and Venom parts."
Jay held his head for a moment. «Are you sure?»
You bit your lip, brushing its chest with your nails. "I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t. Did you think I would let someone else touch me like that?"
Venom made himself feel inside him, a shiver shook Jay as his deep voice resounded in his head. It’s perfect. Cheeky, provocative. She wants to make it ours. he wants to fill it and brand it.
Jay swallowed hard as he felt his darker side take over. With the tip of his member, he began to touch your entry, slowly teasing you, driving you crazy.
"Jay..." moans, the need in your voice was clear.
«Tell me exactly what you want,» he said with a satisfied smile.
You bent slightly, trying to push against him, but his hands stopped you, holding you still.
"Asshole," you hissed, eyes burning with desire. "Move."
A guttural growl escaped from Jay’s lips, or rather of Venom. «You are so impatient... and so excited for us.»
Then, without further ado, it pushed itself inside you, slowly at first, letting you feel every inch as your body adapted to its size.
He withheld a groan, seeing you shudder beneath him, your body wrapped around his.
"Fuck, you’re perfect...» murmured Jay, caressing your face softly. "I want you to like it.»
"Move," you whisper, the voice full of need.
It was at this moment that Venom took control. His hands seized your hips with force, his movements became deeper, faster, and more brutal.
«You hear him» he growled, his voice lower, darker. «Are you enjoying being filled like this?»
The pleasure overtook you, you clung to his shoulders, your nails sinking into his skin.
"Yes, fuck!" you panicked, your body responding to every push. You felt something fresh and sinuous enveloping your belly, sliding along your body with an unnatural precision. A glossy black tentacle crept towards your center, pressing firmly on your clitoris. A shiver ran down your back, making you shudder.
"Oh God..." groans, squeezing Jay even harder.
«Do you like it, baby?» Venom’s voice was deeper, darker. Jay was still there, but you could hear him leaving more and more room for the creature. The tentacle wrapped around your body, stroking you in places you didn’t even think were so sensitive. The pressure on you increased, each pushes more intense, deeper until you lost your breath.
«Look how well you treat us... You were born to be ours.» Venom’s voice was a hoarse whisper against your skin, a sinful murmur that made you shiver.
Jay stuck his fingers in your hips, his blows getting stronger and faster. The pleasure accumulated in your belly, each push sent waves of heat into your body, while the tentacle kept on tickling you without respite.
«Tell me you’re coming for us.» Jay clenched his jaw, holding back with difficulty.
"S-yes... I’m coming..." you panicked, your body shaking.
And when the pleasure finally exploded inside you, Venom emitted a guttural sound of approval.
«Beautiful...» whispered Jay. You felt the heat spread within you, as the tentacle slowly retreated, leaving behind a trail of electric chills.
Jay panted as Venom pushed deeper, feeling your orgasm grip him perfectly. With an animalistic growl, Jay let go of every brake, pushing himself inside you one last time before filling you.
It remained inside you for a few seconds, the heavy breath, the body still tense from pleasure.
«You are beautiful with my seed inside you,» he whispered against your neck, slowly licking your skin.
You still felt trembling, exhausted, and completely possessed by them.
«Now you are ours,» added Venom with a satisfied grin.
Jay hugged you and felt that the "human" Jay you knew was back. Both of you had a long breath, the bodies still intertwined, and you gently brushed the bruises that began to form on her skin. He sank his head into the hollow of your neck, tickling you with a warm breath, and with a thread of voice asked you:
«Did you like it?»
He seemed almost embarrassed by the question, which made you smile. You stroked him gently and with a slight smile, you replied:
"Jay, it was crazy. I was so stupid not to know that you were the guy I talked about every day..."
He stood up slowly, pulling a strand of hair from your face and touching your cheek with his fingertips. His gaze was full of sweetness but also a veil of apprehension.
«You won’t tell anyone, will you?» he asked with a hint of concern in his voice.
You smiled and, without a word, gave him your little finger. Jay burst out laughing but crossed his finger with yours, sealing that secret with a swearing oath.
After a few seconds of silence, you looked at him with curiosity.
"But... are there others like you?"
Jay just made a gesture with his boss, pointing to the little picture you had on your bedside table. In that photo were you, him, Jake, and Hoon. You felt the breath cut and brought a hand to your mouth, surprised.
"Wait... they too...?"
Jay nodded with a clever smirk. «You’ll find out for yourself. But not in spicy situations!»
You burst out laughing, shaking your head as a shiver of excitement ran down your spine. This story was becoming much more interesting than you ever imagined.
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If you like the genre tell me if you want to discover also the other members with their powers:)
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Oh, they dress themselves identically. :D It is a conscious and deliberate choice from their earliest days.
(I headcanon them as one soul in two bodies, more or less, which adds to the identicalness somewhat)
Only their parents and Arwen can tell them apart by looking at them. A few people who know them really well can tell which is which by mannerisms and listening to them speak (Elladan is slightly more brusque and sharp and impulsive, Elrohir is slightly more calm and gentle and considered). A very very few people have worked out that they stand in alphabetical order as you look at them (Elladan on the left, Elrohir on the right), much like Ant and Dec. Everyone else has no earthly clue. Which they heartily encourage, partly for insular us-against-the-world reasons and partly because they think it's really funny. :D
Ioreth thinks she can tell them apart, but she can't.
(extract from that fic under the cut because it still makes me laugh)
After everything was over, the Ring was destroyed and the Enemy defeated, the twins’ long quest to avenge their mother over at last, Arwen was amused and somewhat bewildered to see her brothers parading through the streets of Minas Tirith one on each arm of a small, elderly woman who never quite seemed to stop talking and who had opinions on absolutely everything that had happened over the last weeks. They were smiling, laughing even, tolerating the woman telling them what to do, fetching and carrying for her, treating her like a queen, and much as Arwen rejoiced to see hints of their old carefree selves, she could not quite understand how such a transformation could have been wrought so swiftly.
“What is going on, meleth-nín?” she asked Aragorn, quietly, as they and Legolas visited the Houses of Healing to speak with those who were still recovering from their injuries, watching the old woman confidently address Elladan by Elrohir’s name and Elrohir by Elladan’s. “Who is that woman and what on Arda has she done to my brothers?”
Aragorn chuckled softly. “That, meleth, is Ioreth. She is a skilled healer, to be certain, but also a very skilled gossip, and a purveyor of the most outlandish old wives’ tales. And she seems to have adopted the twins.”
“And she thinks she can tell them apart,” said Legolas, his soft voice full of amusement. “No matter who tells her that only those closest to them know with any certainty which of them is which, she is quite confident.”
“She almost never gets it right, and when she does it is purely by luck,” said Aragorn. “I think they are going along with it, pretending to be each other. It seems to amuse them.”
“Well, Varda knows they have been in need of amusement for a long time,” said Arwen, “but they have not pretended to be each other since we were barely more than Elflings.”
“We’re not certain,” said Legolas, “since you and your father are the only ones who can truly tell them apart, but it is most disconcerting to think one has worked out which is which from how they speak and behave, as the rest of us must do, and then have that completely upended.”
“I suppose so,” said Arwen, for she knew that others must rely on their knowledge of the twins’ personalities, Elladan slightly more abrasive and inclined to swearing, Elrohir softer-spoken and inclined to smoothing the feathers his brother had ruffled. “But -” and she broke off, staring, as across the room the twins, bringing more supplies to the old woman, were met with a long and rather complicated demand for something else that they had not brought.
“Manwë’s balls, woman!” barked Elrohir - Elrohir, Arwen’s lovely, soft-spoken brother who hardly swore and never snapped. “You couldn’t have told us that the first time?”
“Before we went to the stillroom?” added Elladan, much more gently, almost pleadingly, and Arwen could only gape as the old woman giggled - giggled, coquettishly, and batted her eyelashes at them.
“Well, perhaps I just like to make you work,” she said. “Now, hop to it, there’s good lads.”
And the twins just - went. They glanced at Arwen as they passed, and Elladan - Arwen was sure it was Elladan, though they were even standing in the wrong order - waggled his eyebrows, flashing her a grin.
Arwen pressed her hand to her heart, feeling distinctly off-balance. “Is this what being mortal feels like, meleth-nín?” she asked, rather faintly. “I feel as though I need to sit down.”
do you guys think that elrond is the kind of dad to dress the twins identically
#lotr#<3333333#the twins! the TWINS!#don't mind me i have a ludicrous amount of headcanons for those two XDDDD
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3 am au ask
"not so enemy activities" + "boom surprise baby"
So your telling me.. that only did this happen – it happened TWICE and the idiots STILL haven't worked through their problems??
I'm sure their babies were raised very lovingly but wow what a mess those two are lol. add that with teenage angst + generational trauma we got an angst powder keg waiting to blow ✨
i wonder if they know about macaque's death?
( NSFW implied )
Look hate sex exists ok what can I tell ya lmaoooo
These two are definitely bombayahing way more times than just the times they ended up with kids,,, the kids were def slip ups during their mating seasons type of vibe
Look they still think of each other as enemies/rivals and previously to starting to raise the kiddos were extremely hostile to each other because at one point they completely lost sight of who they were to each other.
They could only see the guy who abandoned him and hurt his friends and the guy who killed him, not exactly something people just talk out, so their bodies did
I do think that as they raise the kiddos they start seeing each other again past the hurt, like they are each other's true self when they raise their kids,,
Mac let's go of his cynical and violent self to raise the kids with love and kindness and consequently his bitterness starts to slowly go away.
Wukong finally returning back to the island, being able to finally rest and relax and now with a family of his own there is less want to go out and travel, his journey is over, now he can have the forever he promised with his family
Being able to see that neither of them are truly violent is a whiplash to the monkeys because of how long they've spent fighting each other, they start to remember how they used to be centuries ago.
They miss each other.
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Quicksilver, by Callie Hart 🦋
She is moonlight. The mist that shrouds the mountains. The bite of electricity in the air before a storm.
Ohh boy. Personally I think she is none of those things, but that's me getting ahead of myself. God, I feel so anxious posting a book reaction after the Onyx Storm Debacle, but here we are, with a book I didn't love...again.
So...I started this one with a running commentary again (Throne of Glass style) but I couldn't quite commit. We will however approach it chronologically, because that's an easier way to show my thoughts as they evolved.
Would I recommend this book? No. And I’ll tell you why, but there are spoilers ahead so be aware of that.
Friends...I did not enjoy this one and I'm starting to feel like a crazy person. Is this just a massive reading slump? Or am I weird? Because everyone seems to think these books are the best thing since sliced bread and I've not liked a single one of them 😭
My first impressions? Saeris is so cliché. Like oh we're starving and can barely survive, you can see my ribs, but actually I can scale a giant wall and fight all these fully trained guards and win...ok, sure. It's giving 00's YA vibes but alright, I'm rolling with it.
I had no understanding of what it was I was doing, but if this was a world-ending gift, then good. Fuck this city and fuck this world. My family was already doomed, and what did I care for anyone else?
Bit dramatic, but whatever, I'll still ride with you. Who am I to judge? I did write Remi.
“I wear pants. Shirts. Things I can move easily in. So I can run, and climb, and—” Kill people.
"So cliché." I mutter to myself as I put the book down. Then pick it up again. Then put it down again and use the audiobook instead.
At some point, Layne would accept that I just didn't eat that much, and she'd stop loading up my plate with so much food. She'd slip an apple into her pocket for me or something.
*Deep breaths* Saeris would absolutely fit in on mid 2000's tumblr. Babe, this is such a weird flex to include when you’ve already made it very clear she was a starving orphan, ok?
We also met the infamous Carrion—more on that later—and her brother...who sucks. No two ways about it. I hated him immediately. Are there any decent book-brothers out there? Or just...no? I thought from the way he was acting he was going to be fourteen but no, he's like TWENTY, what the fuck 😭
So anyway, hooray! We've fallen through a portal to a new world and that's the stage set—then we meet Kingfisher. Oh man. Kingfisher.
Firstly:
This is a kingfisher. I just want y’all to know that. I know it’s not his ‘real’ name but it’s still what she’s crying out in rapture ok, a choice was made and it wasn’t a good one.
Anyway, surprise surprise, he's an asshole, but here’s the rub: he doesn't seem redemptive.
My jaw was screaming, I was clenching my teeth so hard. “Fuck—you—” “There you go again. Hungry, needy little bitch in heat, begging to be fucked…” he taunted. “Let. Go!”
I’m ok with enemies to lovers, but there has to be a hint at least that the ‘bad guy’ can be a decent person. There has to be something that hooks me about him—his entire personality can’t just be ‘asshole’, and above all, despite the fact he doesn’t like the FMC (even loathes her for all I care) he has to at least have some basic respect for her, otherwise I’m not down. That’s just my personal take, you don’t have to agree, but it makes me uncomfortable otherwise.
“I don't hate your kind. I'm just disappointed by how breakable you are. If I held you down and fucked you the way I'm imagining fucking you right now, I doubt that you’d survive it.”
Like that? That’s not cute or arousing in any way.
“That your body is betraying you in other ways. That I can smell you, Little Osha, and I'm thinking about drinking the sweet nectar you're making for me straight from the fucking cup.”
I do also think the smut was just not for me in this book, as a general rule, I did find it very cringe. Case in point ^
A FUNNY INTERLUDE:
—a look of rye amusement on his irritatingly handsome face.
LMAO this was meant to be wry, I assume? There were a few instances like this throughout the book, as well as typos and missing punctuation. Which, we’re all human, I get it, but it kind of annoys me a little when this was picked up for trad pub, pulled from KU (I bought it—twice!) and has since gotten a million dollar Netflix deal. Please, if we’re going to be doing that, the publishing house needs to edit the damn book. Honestly? I think it could have done with 200-300 less pages. A developmental edit was needed, let alone a final edit.
Anyway. Onwards.
So they make a blood pact, in which she agrees to basically do whatever the fuck he says, which is...tired. I'm tired. The book is tired. We're all a little tired here.
Kingfisher held out his hand and pulled me to my feet, making a derisive sound when he saw the cut I'd inflicted upon myself. “Baby.”
It’s just...this utter derision he has for her, his supposed (spoiler alert!) fated mate, that just gives me the ick.
Then there's this:
Kingfisher stunned me to silence when he dropped to his knees and started picking up the shards of broken cup. “It's all right, Archer. Hush, it's all right.”
Ok, this here is the first indication we get that he can be a decent person, and it’s not with her, it’s with some random character we’ve just met. Do I grow to like Archer? Sure, but right now I don’t know him from Adam, all this scene tells me is that Fisher is capable of respect and kindness, just not with Saeris. Be so for fucking real right now, that does not make you want to root for them. If this were your bestie you’d be screaming for them to run. This is the crux of it all. We had to get like 300 pages into this book for there to be a single hint of redemption in him and to me that's bad technique.
Clearly everyone else disagrees since they're out there praising it, but I've nearly DNF'd so many times by now, because you're 👏 not 👏 giving 👏 me 👏 crumbs. Please, give the reader something! It's all well and good for people to be out here going "well he's like that for a reason" (spoiler alert: the reason sucks, it's just the cliché 'I wanted to push her away for her own safety) but his reasoning means shit if people lose interest and don't get far enough to find out what it even is.
Note: by 'people' I mean the rest of the internet, not anyone here specifically, but since a few of you have said the same, just know that's a generalisation and I still love you! But I fear my point stands, his change of heart/any indication of kindness comes too late in the game for it to be an effective character arc (more on this later!!)
Anywho—
I shouldn't have moaned. I definitely shouldn't have told him that I wanted him. For the love of all the gods in all the heavens, why had I said that? I was going to throw up.
Same babe. Why did you? Why do you?
I couldn't believe we'd finally arrived here.
Me either!! 56% of the way in! We've basically done absolutely nothing but wander around and talk about how hot and mean he is for 300 pages but finally you're...doing things...with him 😬
Every part of me wanted to scramble from the bed and bolt for the door, but I knew that would be folly. Just like a hell cat, Fisher would give chase.
So terrified every part of you wants to bolt for the door...charming. Very hot. Love that for you.
“I could probably use a sho—” “Do not fucking dare finish that sentence,” he snarled. “I don't want a mouthful of soap and perfume. I want to taste you.”
Shower. She was going to say shower.
Another note, because I'm incapable of not shouting this from the rooftops when the occasion arises—vaginas are self-cleaning, there should be no soap or perfume going in there! You would have tasted her anyway you dumbass. You'd think he'd know that, given he's supposedly been in more of them than your local gynaecologist.
“And we can’t lie.”
*deep breaths* since WHEN? And that only makes it worse??
I'd imagined the words. Fabricated them out of thin air and somehow played them aloud in my own head in his voice.
Oh, hey Violet, how did you get here?
So anyway, then we enter the final conflict? Confrontation? Where she needs to go and save her newfound mate from under the mountain the bad guy's place! (oh and there's vampires, did I mention that before? No? Well there is now).
Anyway, turns out Rhysand Kingfisher was trapped there for 110 years with big bad Malcolm, who it's implied sexually assaulted him during that time, but we never address that. Why? Well this is romantasy and we only have six-hundred pages, why would we? Just throw traumatic experiences in there for the sake of it, why not?
Anyway—
“That's right. Fifty-five. He spent the next eight years trying to find the coin once he reached the center, didn't you, my love?”
I'm?????
55+8=63... what happened to the other 47 years? Guys? I'm????
Whatever, who cares about math! We're on the escape until—WOAH.
“It can't see or hear you. It tracks movement.”
Don't panic, don't panic, we all know how to defeat the middengard wyrm whatever that thing is! And we do. But not really, because everything in this maze regenerates, just like romantasy plotlines.
More fighting, more evil villain monologuing, etc.
THEN Saeris has to go and find a coin to break the blood oath Kingfisher made with big-bad, even though big-bad said he broke it himself five minutes ago during his evil monologue in order to make Fishie confess to...things.
“I release you from your oath to us, Kingfisher, Bane of Gillethrye. Now, go on. Tell your friends all about the deal you struck with us all those years ago.”
But no matter, we're off to find a coin and no worries, we've got that down! Of course in the process Feyre Saeris dies and gets brought back to life again as an all powerful fae/vampire queen hybrid. WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT?
Not me, even I couldn't have predicted that double-doozy. Probably this guy though:
Zareth. God of Chaos.
Which? NO. Nope. No. Too late. FAR too late in the game for this. I'm out.
The way we went through so many boring pages of nothingness to this in the last 20% is truly something.
OK! SIDE CHARACTERS:
Danya was a complete and total waste of everyone's time, she existed only to be the bitchy, elitist mean girl side character who was mean to poor Saeris and occassionally made her jealous. This one-dimensional treatment of female characters grinds my gears. Even Everlayne, Kingfisher's sister was entirely useless, making Saeris the special female unicorn. Pretty sure this book fails the Bechdel test.
Ren was nice, I liked him, poor long-suffering man that he was.
Lorreth. Man, y'all can't shut up about Carrion and you're really sleeping on Lorreth. This man saved me from DNF'ing, he was fantastic. Put some respect on his name! 10/10 no notes. The guy you'd actually want to get with if this book were real.
He'd still looked dumbstruck as he headed off in the direction of his tent, cradling Avisiéth like a baby in his arms.
Carrion. CARRION. Ok straight up...is that really a word we want to be using as a name? Really? Is it relevant? Like did we do that on purpose because he somehow reflects roadkill? I figured we'd find out, but NOPE 💀
Who fucking knows at this point though whether it is his name. I doubt it, given Kingfisher's name is apparently not Kingfisher either. Personally though I still think that should have been addressed in the book. It's over 200k words, you can tell us why certain nicknames exist.
The thief held up his hands. “You're right. I apologize. I'm just a little on edge right now. I'm not my best self.”
Hilarious, there to cause trouble most of the time, 10/10, almost no notes.
“Are you going to tell me about my parents, or are you going to start undressing each other? Because I can leave. I don't have to, but I can,” Carrion said.
Except the part where he turns out to be a thousand-year-old fae too and a secret, mystery, vampire-killing-prince dude or whatever, there's a note about that and how it's kinda unnecessary to drop in the final 5%. Was it foreshadowed? Not effectively, no. Also Carrion Daianthus? Roadkill, crows, and...pink flowers? Yeah. That's him. That's the one 💀
Onyx. Token wild animal taken in as pet/familiar trope. She can have this one. He's cute.
Elroy. Dude's definitely going to become important again. How much do we wanna bet he's Fisher's dad? Anyone?
Anyway, this was wildly chaotic and I don't really feel bad about it because so was this book. It started out well in the first 5-10%. It was a slog to read between the 10% mark and 60%. Honestly, it only got better once they'd fucked for the first time, which was because Kingfisher's character did a 180 overnight with a big fat handwavey motion, like our FMC's magic coochie cured him of his violent tendencies. Like not to be crude, but I'm not sure there's any other way of putting it.
I think it's just not a great book, which I also think is a shame because the world is interesting, I loved the parts of alchemy we got (which weren't enough, imo) and the swords, the magic, the portals, the quicksilver, etc. I think it had so much potential and that's ultimately why it also bothers me so much as well. It feels squandered through a lack of refinement and editing.
Will I read the next one? Maybe. I'll let someone else take the hit first and see if it's any better paced this.
This has gone on long enough lmao, so I'll just leave you with one last quote that I think really sums up this book so, so much:
“Not that. The brother part,” she said in a loud whisper. “That’s not common knowledge?” “Well, yes. And no. It's just not spoken about. And it's very, very complicated.”
Yeah...
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You know what I love? Azriel didn’t have to go and save Gwyn from the blood Rite because he knew she could take care of herself. He trained her so he knew. He saved Elain because she was weak and defenseless and a damsel and sat in a tent and waited for someone to save her. And guess what Gwyn did in the Blood rite? Actually made an effort and helped and even stayed up in the tree. That was her SPYING!!!!!!! Who’s to say Azriel didn’t give her any tips during the time he went over dagger handling? Gave her tips on how to spy? It’s great foreshadowing from S.J.M!!
And I cant wait for Azriel to gift Gwyn a dagger so she can name it Silver Majesty. S.J.M gave us that for a reason. At least she’ll accep it. Unlike Elain who gave back TruthTelller. Gwyn sees Azriel’s love for daggers and it is seen in the bonus. “A comfort for every growing child.” I can’t wait for them to have a child (this was foreshadowed with the above line) and they can have bad ass warrior parents.
The next book is taking forever because S.J.M got bored writing Elain’s book so she has changed it to Gwynriel. I can’t wait for their endgame and for the rest of the Elriels to finally leave our space. Gwynriels have been here longer. It’s time for others to go now who can’t accept Gwynriel is endgame.
I don’t like people pinning Gwyn and Elain against each other but since you wanted to come in my anons doing so let’s go through all your points from canon. Both Gwyn and Elain are great characters and are strong in different ways. But now that I’ve read your fanon theories let me respond with some canon.
whether Azriel believes in Gwyns abilities or not that man cared more about his enemy Eris than when she was drugged and kidnapped by multiple men…. Is that how mates act? not according to Ruhn!
Ruhn glared at her as Hunt continued to glow and menace. It means that he’s going ballistic in the way that only mates can when the other is threatened. It’s what happened then, and what’s happening now.
Azriel may not have been able to go to the blood rite but that wouldn’t have stopped him from showing emotion around his friends if he actually cared anough to. In acowar we see azriel is full of rage and is the first to notice Elain was taken. So he will show emotion like that over Elain but not his supposed mate? lol …...it’s funny you guys try to talk around azriel not really reacting to gwyn being kidnapped to the blood right by saying “it’s bc he knew she could handle herself!” Yet cassian was there and knew Nesta could handle herself and he was still freaking out. Cassian still showed concern over Emerie and Gwyn too.
“Gwyn was spying”. So I guess everyone in the blood rite are spys now?! It’s funny Emerie and Nesta watched their enemies at times too but no one credits them to being a spy. You guys can try and claim Gwyn is a spy blahhhh but SJM doesn’t compare Gwyn to any spy tactics at all in the books. But ya know who she does? Elain. You know who they wonder if azriel is training w spy techniques? Elain lol
She scanned Elain from head to toe, wondering if she’d been taking lessons in stealth either from Azriel or the two half-wraiths she called friends.”
“Elain was again at my side. I hadn’t heard her steps. Hadn’t heard any sound for moments.”
“Elain stepped out of a shadow behind him”
“Elain was the only one who guessed. She caught me vomiting two mornings in a row.” She nodded toward Azriel. “I think she’s got you beat for secret-keeping.”
You know who’s good at keeping secrets like a spy does… Elain. You know who’s not? Gwyn lol Nesta tells Gwyn how they are looking for the trove and not tell anyone at all and what does Gwyn do? Tells Merrill
“At least gwyn would keep the dagger” In Acowar Azriel never gave Elain his dagger to keep. He lent it to her. For a side that screams Elriels have no reading comprehension I would think you’de understand this by now… the I won’t be using it today line means she can use it FOR THE DAY not keep it. So of course she gives it back after she’s done w it.
“This is Truth-Teller,” he told her softly. “I won’t be using it today—so I want you to.”
The emphasis SJM puts on the truth teller scene is that Azriel has never let anyone else touch it ever and he still lends it to Elain.
Cassian gawked at Azriel, and I wondered how often Azriel had lent out that blade— Never, Rhys said from where he finished buckling on his own weapons against the side of the wagon. I have never once seen Azriel let another person touch that knife.
It’s pretty telling how Azriel has been training Gwyn(and the other ladies) for months w daggers, has even had at least 1 private dagger lesson with Gwyn but hasn’t let her even touch truth teller ….. but sureeeee she’ll get silver majesty or gray bullet or whatever other name yall want to make for truth teller other than it’s actual name in the books.
“Elains weak Gwyn is stronger!!” First of all both ladies are bad ass. Yes Gwyn did some really cool things in the blood rite and helped fight to stay alive alongside Nesta and Emerie, but Elain killed a evil king.Fought Hybern beasts w her bare feet, and this is without any actual training. Elain has badass powers and has put them on to finding Vassa, the suriel during the war, and looking into Koschei. And let’s see what Azriel thinks of Elain.
Elain’s brows twitched toward each other. “The queen—with the feathers of flame.” The shadowsinger angled his head. Lucien murmured to me, eye still fixed on Elain, “Should we—does she need …?” “She doesn’t need anything,” Azriel answered without so much as looking at Lucien. Elain was staring at the spymaster now—unblinkingly. “We’re the ones who need …” Azriel trailed off. “A seer,” he said, more to himself than us. “The Cauldron made you a seer.”
When everyone else thought there was something wrong with her and she was going crazy… Azriel was the one who knew she didn’t need anything. Azriel was the one to figure out she was a seer. Azriel was the one who realized they needed her.
I have no idea what your going on about in that last paragraph. I’m going to read whatever SJM writes because it’s not that serious. In fact most elriels say regardless of who ends up together they will continue reading the books. It’s a lot of the gwynr/els who post about how they won’t read a Elriel book blah blah blah. But trying to say Gwynriels have been around longer? You’re funny w that one. Seeing how gwyn is only in 1 book yet elriel has been being foreshadowed since acomaf. There’s been elriels around since then.
#acotar#sarah j maas#elriel#pro elriel#elain archeron#azriel#anti gwynr/el#canon#azriel shadowsinger
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okay, by popular demand (and by popular demand, i mean 3 people and my inability to keep my mouth shut) i am here with my saiou/ousai relationship + mini character analysis. this is an elaboration on this ask i got earlier !!
i should mention that i’ve only ever played through v3 once, so there is probably a lot i am missing, nuance wise and what not. i also haven’t edited this well, so it’s kinda just a word dump (sorry), so i’m not sure how understandable/coherent it’ll be. nor do i know how original my ideas are; there’s probably someone who’s dumped their opinions exactly like mine somewhere… in any case, here is my conclusion on why i think saiou is a rather intriguing ship and why i’m personally drawn to them, individually n otherwise ✌️
ouma kokichi. god what a complex character. some might argue otherwise, but i think his character and his arc throughout the game is not only hard to crack/understand, but integral to the v3 plot and overarching themes presented. well never truly know what he was thinking, and so many have already fought tooth and nail to defend or oppose him. in my humble opinion, however, the way i see it is this: ouma’s overall goal was to unite everyone against an active, obvious threat in the killing game. the mastermind was hidden amongst them, as they decided found out on, and by outing himself as the mastermind, making himself a clear and obvious target, it encouraged the remaining survivors to build trust within one another and fight together. kokichi realized very early on that no one was going to trust anyone as long as there was a hidden mastermind posing as a student within their group. he knew they weren’t going to get anywhere if they kept doubting each other — so in a very unorthodox way, he united them together. they didn’t need a friend, he realized, they needed an enemy. and by default, he sort of becomes shuichi’s nemesis as most antagonists in the games do.
i was on tiktok the other day and found this comment that i thought made a good point, regarding kokichi’s character and why people hate him.
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though i am biased, i think it’s fair to say that in a world without the killing game, kokichi would want to be friends with shuichi. or at the very least, he’d be intrigued by him and push shuichi’s buttons to figure him out. i think it’s funny and such a nice detail to notice, but just as shuichi (and us, by default) are confused about kokichi and his actions, shuichi himself is actually a mystery to ouma as well. in the eng version, kokichi had shuichi labeled “trustworthy?” on his whiteboard meanwhile in the jp version, it’s “tricky/can’t figure him out.” in both versions regardless of translation, i think it’s fair to say that kokichi is intrigued and wants to understand shuichi better. one part of their dynamic i really love is the whole “i’m gonna annoy because it’s so fun and you react to said annoyances in ways i thoroughly enjoy.” and it’s fun, and silly, but i think it’s also kokichi’s way of figuring shuichi out. shuichi is… an anomaly. he’s an ultimate detective who’s supposed to search for the truth, yet he is ironically afraid of what he’ll find out. he has a knack for discovering and unearthing mysteries (he can’t help but connect two dots together) and yet he simultaneously is hesitant to discover more. he wants to find the truth, but is willing to tell lies in the classroom trials. this is a really fun juxtaposition with kokichi, who is notorious for telling lies and skirting around the truth like it’s the plague. and yet, they both want the same thing: to find out the truth and be done with this killing game. one is searching for the liars within their group, the other is finding out the truths.
this is one reason why i really enjoy saiou. one of the biggest themes for drv3 is the relationship between truths and lies. there’s the overarching “truth” of their world which is that it’s gone to hellfire and everyone but them are dead. the world ended. except, nope! that’s a lie! the *real* truth is that they’re in a killing game show. kokichi is known for telling lies, and so when he reveals the fire destroyed world outside and says that this is the truth out of the outside world, it’s ironic. kokichi knows there’s something else up, but he reveals the truth of the outside world to them (this, from what i understand/theorize, is ultimately to further everyone’s hatred towards ouma and help them form a close and trusting bond together, but the symbolism behind it is really interesting to me). “here is your truth,” he says, and they can’t dispute it as a lie because it’s right there in front of them. just like they couldn’t dispute gonta in the fourth trial.
except… what *really* defines truth? kokichi must’ve known the outside world was a lie, or that there was something more to it, otherwise why did he go through with his suicide in chap 5? to beat a dead horse: he tells a lie about the “truth” that is the outside world. we circle back to this lie vs truth theme in chapter six when shuichi starts questioning his sense of self. what is really true if he used to be someone else? if his memories and experiences are fake, does that make himself a fake human? a fake person? ultimately we come to know that it doesn’t matter — *he* gets to choose his own truth, even if there are lies buried beneath them. his memories may be fake, but his emotions and feelings aren’t. you cant fake the beating of your own heart or the pain you feel at knowing it’s all unreal, that it’s all a *lie*.
one thing i just thought was so so clever and genuinely helped me understand kokichi more was his friendship reward. for every friendship star completion thingy you complete, you get their underwear (💀) and a special skill to use in the trials. kokichi’s friendship reward is “kind lie.” he has a multitude of lies under his belt — real ones, hurtful ones, white ones, and ofc kind ones. you could argue his plan to deceive everyone as the mastermind was both a hurtful lie and a kind lie — he was ultimately lying for the greater good (imo). shuichi, despite being afraid of the truth, has no problem lying for the greater good either. i was so confused about the whole “perjury” aspect added to this game. i thought it was just another lame addition that didn’t make sense as a means of attempting to change it up a little in comparison to the last two games. but now i understand it’s greater purpose. lying is ultimately not a bad thing. not always, anyway. lying, as we find out, can help us pursue the truth. and i think kokichi knows this to be true in some ways, which is why he’s always acting so oblivious and naive at some times — or outright lying when he knows the truth is the opposite of what he’s saying. without a doubt, kokichi seriously helped move debates along during the trials. pretty sure whether you hate him or love him, people could agree to that. even if he appeared to be spouting nonsense or derailing the conversation, shuichi being the detective he is was able to slowly but surely understand (if only somewhat minimally) kokichi’s methods and thinking process. which is why chap 5 was so wild because it quite literally was all up to shuichi. kokichi single handedly put his trust into kaito to follow through with the plan, and shuichi to figure it out; NO ONE ELSE would’ve been able to figure it out except shuichi (except maybe maki but she was too stubborn to see thru to the truth). and that is like. holy shit??? that’s crazy to me and i think it shows that despite not trusting anyone and not knowing how it was going to turn out, kokichi took that gamble anyway. and it worked! except yknow. it also didn’t, in a way. all in all, the lying aspect of the trail grounds ties into the bigger overarching theme of choosing your own truth to live, and choosing what lies to believe in — good or bad.
side note: i think it’s so funny how mad kokichi gets when shuichi lies about seeing him in the virtual world in chapter four. had shuichi not lied, we wouldn’t have figured out it was gonta (or more likely, kokichi would’ve spoon fed the answer to everyone a bit more). gonta wasn’t supposed to have memory loss, and i have to wonder if not lying about kokichi would’ve made the trial go along if gonta still had his memories from the virtual world. in any case, when shuichi pulled the “yeah i actually did see you walk up the stairs” — the fact he LIED (mr “i’m searching for the truth so we can live and find the culprit” detective) to notorious king of liars ouma kokichi was so funny to me. like girl. ofc kokichi’s gonna realize you lied. and he did and he got so fucking mad over it and kokichi being petty like that and just saying “yeah okay gonta’s the culprit” is so funny to me. bro was LIVID he decided to just up and say the truth to be petty 😭
moving on, i think the big three characters juxtaposed with shuichi is something to note. those three being kaede, kaito, and kokichi. mayyyybe i’m looking a bit too much into this but i want to mention their relationship with shuichi and their character designs because it feels very intentional to me. a while back i discovered shuichi and kokichi have inverted color palettes — black with light accents vs white with dark accents. grey-ish yellow vs purple eyes. but the eye color inversion also actually applies to kaito and kaede, who, just like kokichi, have purple eyes. here is my argument: purple is an important color to the story, as it overall conveys a symbolism for trust and truth. if you look at those three’s color palettes, purple is a notable color. for kaito, it’s dominating. kaede, she’s a bit more desaturated, and kokichi it’s like his accent color. barely there, but noticeable nonetheless.
kaede is our first culprit (except she isn’t since her plan failed). she is trusting and sweet and kind and encouraging. she is desperate, *desperate* to find the mastermind first thing because she is heavily determined to help everyone escape. her color palette is a mix of purple and pink, with pink being more prominent and her purple being a more lavender shade. she’s desaturated in color, especially in her eyes, and i want to say this is likely symbolic of her desire to find the truth, yet her willingness to deceive others simultaneously. she’s not a bad person, far from it, but when she “kills” rantarou, she doesn’t own up to it immediately. she owns up to it eventually, but she also doesn’t take advantage of the first blood perk as a means of further trying to find the mastermind. she is willing to lie about her plan to shuichi (even if it’s lie by deception/not telling) and willing to take a risk to find and kill the mastermind. this, i believe, is why her eyes are so desaturated in purple; she is telling the truth, but it’s watered down.
kaito is almost the complete opposite of kokichi, but also not exactly the same as kaede. out of the three, he has the brightest purple eyes and the most purple on his body. he is a living, breathing, walking example of trust and truth. he wants to find the truth so badly and would never even THINK to tell a lie. would never even consider murder, even if it was the mastermind. his hair is purple, his jacket is purple, and his eyes are purple as all hell. purple, in my opinion, is a huge color resembling truth and trust. he *trusts* maki just because he wants to. he *trusts* shuichi just because he wants to. he wants to believe in them because he wants to find the good in everyone. his trust in them help bolster shuichi into a better mindset, especially after kaede, and encourages him to keep going. kaito might not be the brightest, nor the most helpful in the trials, but emotionally he is vital to shuichi. because he *trusts* shuichi.
kokichi has the least amount of purple in his color palette, but i think his purple accents are the most important out of all of the purple trio. if purple is the color of truth and trust, then having that color reflected on kokichi almost seems ironic and misinforming. except it isn’t. ouma kokichi, the notorious king of lies, is actually quite good at leading everyone towards the truth. the only purple on him is in the dyed tips if his hair and his eyes— almost like the truth his bleeding out of him, or rather just barely visible that you can’t make it out unless you focus hard enough. after all, at first glance i imagine everyone would take in the checkered scarf and the fact black and white is so prominent on him. i think it’s symbolic to have purple as his eye color. it’s a nice character design aspect imo, but it also harkens back to that one saying “the eyes are the window to the soul” or something long that line. despite what kokichi might say or do, the truth is in his eyes (literally). it’s silent and unassuming, but it’s there. his eyes are actually a brighter and darker purple than kaede’s. not as bright as kaito’s, but still something to note.
with all this being said, shuichi gets a difference sense of truth and trust from each of them. kaede provides him an equal dose of truths and lies, kaito gives him absolute truth, and kokichi gives him almost all lies to find the truth.
and i really, *really* love the dynamic between shuichi and kokichi with this whole truth vs lie theme. kokichi, as we learn in his free time events, loves to play games. he’s a bit childish but still extremely mature. his way of having fun is messing with people (though not necessarily in a mean way. after all, he makes the stakes extremely high and concerning, like killing yourself if you lose — but he still purposefully rigs each game so they end in a tie, or with shuichi winning. hell, he STABS himself, hurts himself, in the knife game that is in the final FTE and holy shit if that isn’t foreshadowing for chapter five idk what is. he is willing to hurt himself to avoid others getting hurt. obviously this can get more complicated when it comes to chap. 4. you could argue he hurt miu and gonta terribly and he should’ve died if what i said was true, but i would counter argue by saying the killing game would’ve gone on and on, just like tsumugi wanted, without his intervention there… still a heart wrenching trial nonetheless and gonta and miu both deserved better imo. but what would danganronpa be without unfair trials and bullshit like that?).
it’s this push and this pull, this dance, if you will, between shuichi and kokichi. kokichi is a trickster pulling various stunts and never revealing his hand, and shuichi is a detective trying to uncover his secrets. i think kokichi gets thrilled at the prospect of being uncovered like that — he lies and he lies and he *wants* someone to catch him. after all, in the love suite hotel his entire thing is phantom thief being captured by detective shuichi…… the fact he still says “because i love you shuichi” is fucking insane, but that’s actually not the most important part here. during the love suite, he brings up playing games again, just like in the FTEs. “you weren’t bored playing with me, were you?” kokichi asks. and then “are you mad because i toyed with you? don’t worry. i’m always thinking about you!—“ (bombastic side eye 🤨🏳️🌈) “—you’re always trying your best to catch me. i really have to give it my all to win .” and then shuichi points out directly after that he seems to be enjoying himself, despite being a “cornered criminal.” and that’s when kokichi admits that he *wants* shuichi to catch him. ….. oh boy the connotations here are kinda crazy but…. it gets even crazier. i cant believe this part is voice acted but here i’ll just link the video so people can watch. (from 4:32 to 5:10) a lot of this, esp towards the end, is likely for the whole romantic love suite hotel roleplaying thing going on to appease the audience playing the v3, but even still it’s such a fun dynamic. again, the push and the pull. it almost feels like a game of tag, the thing going on between shuichi and kokichi. except it’s hard sometimes to figure out who’s running after who. overall, kokichi is a liar and it’s hard to tell what he says is true, and shuichi is a detective hungry for truths.
side note 2.0: i think a lot of people hate saiou because it feels toxic and i can sorta see where they’re coming from: from a very bare bones glossing over their character dynamic, i could potentially see how they got to that conclusion, but i don’t think that conclusion did any real deep diving into their dynamic and characters. so no, saiou is not toxic. and also, it should be mentioned the moment shuichi shows signs of unease in the love suite hotel after kokichi shoved him over the bed, bro was up and out. kokichi respect boundaries and understands a no when he hears one 😁👍
tldr: truths vs. lies. games. purple = truths and trust. chasing after one another. saiousai cool ✌️👍
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I felt like writing the femslash Spirk version of one of my absolute favorite scenes in TOS, from my beloved "Balance of Terror", so I stayed up until 3:30 AM doing it :D
S'paak regularly pretended not to understand the idioms of Federation Standard when she comprehended their meaning perfectly well. She preferred a more exact use of language, and reminding those around her of their imprecision prompted them to speak more directly and clearly. None of her crew mates appeared to notice the small deceit, but then, their prejudices so often did her work for her. Also, it was funny. Captain Kirk's arrival had made S'paak's pretended ignorance still more enjoyable. It soon became apparent that the captain was not deceived—but she was amused. She rarely challenged S'paak's assumed confusion, but just smiled and shook her head while responding as if she believed her. It became a game, of sorts, a silent understanding between the two of them that required nothing further and went nowhere. From all that S'paak could see, the captain did not actually wish her different: and she couldn't remember the last time she had interacted with anyone who did not wish her something other than what she was. Most likely she had never done so, in fact, and this was one more way in which Jessica Kirk had turned out to be entirely unique. Now and then, though, S'paak encountered some niche phrasing or metaphor she mostly didn't have to pretend to find strange—something she could interpret with effort, but had to consider first. Back at the Academy, she'd overheard other cadets talking about how someone had angered an instructor and you could just about feel the room temp dropping. S'paak had been puzzled until she remembered encountering similar figurative language in literary and cultural texts of her mother's people that she had read as a girl, novels that spoke of atmosphere or air chilling as a result of some tension or rage felt by the characters. The wording might be different, but the concepts were evidently the same—even though anger naturally had no effect on external temperature, and she found the metaphor awkward and poorly conceived. Both their peoples associated anger with heat, whether the consuming flame of unrestrained emotion for Vulcans, or the more endurable but still hot, intemperate fury so natural to humans, their skin ruddy with its warmth as they whirled towards each other, gestured violently, shouted, sometimes turned to aggression and even violence. Anger was hot; indifference was cold. She had long known this, and she knew it until the day the Enterprise pursued a ship filled with humanity's old enemies, the Romulans.
The humans had never actually seen a Romulan. Neither had S'paak when they managed to capture some of the video footage of the enemy ship and display it on their own screens. With the disagreeable clench in her stomach that always accompanied unexpected emotion, she gazed at the faces of the Romulan crew—faces that could have belonged to her uncles, cousins, any number of kinsmen. This, she had not foreseen, and her brows had already risen before she controlled the jolt of surprise.
Embarrassingly, the captain revealed less of whatever she thought or felt than S'paak had.
"Decoding?" Jess asked, as if the obvious relationship between S'paak and Starfleet's enemies meant nothing.
"Cryptography is working on it, ma'am," said Lieutenant Uhura, in her usual crisp way.
Stiles, the unpleasantly irrational navigator manning weapons, was not so professional. He muttered in a clearly audible voice,
"Give it to S'paak."
S'paak turned to look at him. She was used to distrust from her peers—had rarely known anything else—but not barely-concealed insinuations of treason, and felt no need to hide her distaste. Stiles glowered at her, not even slightly trying to modulate his contempt.
The captain, standing not far away from him with a hand on her chair, straightened a little.
"I didn't quite get that, Mr. Stiles," she said.
S'paak didn't believe her. But she didn't think anyone did. Or that anyone was meant to.
"Nothing, ma'am," he mumbled.
Without a twitch of expression, Jess walked further away from them, stepping around the far end of the helm panel controlled by Mr. Sulu, and dropping her hand on the panel itself. Stiles stiffened where he sat, very obviously nervous as Jess strolled towards his station on the other end of the panel, her hand trailing after her until she lifted it to tap a nail on the weapon controls immediately in front of him.
Her posture was not visibly tense. Her voice had not raised in volume. The literal temperature of the bridge had not altered in the slightest.
"Repeat it," Jess said softly.
In that instant, S'paak understood that foolish old figure of speech. She could feel an almost palpable chill settling over the bridge, her skin cooling well beyond the usual as everyone except Stiles, the captain, and S'paak glanced at each other uneasily.
Jess hadn't stopped moving. Locking her hands behind her back, she wandered right past S'paak without a glance at her, over to the rear of the bridge, where Uhura stood with the tapes. Her fingers weren't clenched. She betrayed no sign of human temper.
Jessica was not merely affronted, S'paak realized. She was angry. Very angry.
Stiles exhaled, still rigid with the kind of smoldering, resentful fury S'paak found more familiar among his kind. It would have struck her as pathetic and trivial in any circumstance, really, even without the icy disapproval of the captain. But the contrast between his impotent tantrum and the quiet but unmistakable menace emanating from Jess certainly did him no favors. S'paak watched them, unwilling and perhaps unable to speak, some part of her feeling little but distaste for the man before her, another part illogically thrilling at the scene unfolding before her eyes.
Staring at the weapons controls, Stiles said,
"I was suggesting that Commander S'paak could probably translate it for you, ma'am."
Jess retraced her step back towards the panel, standing beside Stiles's station with every appearance of calm, her hands still loosely joined behind her. She didn't even look at him.
"I assume," said the captain, her voice still very level, "that you're complimenting Commander S'paak on her ability to decode."
Commander S'paak. Her. Beyond all logical concern with what all this signified—the facts that the man operating the weapons on this ship could so easily question her integrity, that the Romulans would not have looked out of place in Shi'Kahr, any of it—she felt anxious, excited, light-headed, uneasy, more things than any Vulcan should feel at any time. S'paak bit her lip.
This was for her.
"I'm not sure, ma'am," Stiles said sullenly.
At last, Jessica turned to look down at him with something of her usual expressiveness, regarding her own crewman with more contempt than S'paak had ever seen her direct at anyone. Her hand reached out for the back of his chair and spun it, hard, forcing him to look right into her eyes. Even in profile, there was no missing the implacable intensity in her face.
"Well, here's one thing you can be sure of, Mr. Stiles," Jessica said, leaning slightly down, her hand still gripping his chair and preventing him from turning away or evading her stare. "Leave any bigotry in your quarters. There's no room for it on the bridge." Her clear voice hardened. "Do I make myself clear?"
Stiles at least had the sense to realize his danger. He looked afraid, as well he might.
"You do, ma'am," he managed to say.
Without so much as a reply, Jess released her grip on his chair and headed back towards her own. Stiles returned his attention to the weaponry—at least, they could only hope he had, though by his manner, S'paak wouldn't have been surprised if he had relieved himself.
Se turned back to her own station, somewhat relieved that its position forced her to turn her back to everyone else, even the captain, and shielded her expression from view. She forced her breath to its normal pace, ignoring the thundering of her pulse throughout her bloodstream, thinking about the glimpse they had of the Romulans, what the source of that raging, ruthless violence must be, and about Stiles's folly, and how many might share it. And she thought about her lingering sense of a very different kind of rage, right here on the bridge, far colder and more dangerous.
Jessica, thought S'paak, would never cease to surprise her.
#anghraine babbles#long post#fic talk#fic talk: the lesbian spock agenda#s'paak#jessica kirk#genderbending#c: i object to intellect without discipline#c: who do i have to be#star peace#otp: the premise
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3.1 Amphoreus thoughts [part 2]
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***Spoilers ahead*** for everything up until the rematch with the Flame Reaver, so turn away now if you don’t wanna get upset. At the time of writing this I’ve completed the full story quest so be wary if I mention any details that may happen later.
Starting off nice and calm with the ladies heading to the hot baths for some fun and sweet lord how did Aglaea become even prettier?? I’m in awe.
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This whole splitting of the souls chatter reminds me of Harry Potter horcruxes. Becoming a demigod doesn’t seem like the most fantastical job in the world if it comes with such a big drawback, such as this or having your emotions slowly fade (as seen with Aglaea). I can only wonder what Mydei will have to deal with now.
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The teasing just never ends between these two and it’s giving me life. Every interaction they have is such a joy to listen to.
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Dang, no wonder our boy couldn’t overcome the trail. He was faced with the most tragic day of his life and all the trauma that came with it.
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Okay thank heavens someone said it! Every time Mydei would mention how fear/fleeing/romance or any other word that shows weakness isn’t in the Kremnoan language I wanted to ask him like, okay, so what words are there then??
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Mydei speaks so fondly of his fallen comrades. Being immortal really is cruel, and it hurts even more that we walk past all of his buddies again in a memory where they’re so excited to see him return.
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At some point, Mydei’s teacher infiltrates the vortex by sorta kinda kidnapping Trinnon to do so and after going through this long spiel about the future of Mydei and the Kremnoans that I truthfully wasn’t paying that close attention to, Aglaea decides enough is enough and doesn’t hesitate to most likely execute him.. until Trinnon speaks up. I can’t lie, I genuinely find it a bit comical how quick this woman is to just end anyone who dares break any rules in this city.
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So.. this image. First things first, I love that he uses such language at his father. Secondly, can I trade places with him? I’d love to open my eyes and see this marvelous man looking down on me. Step on me, king~
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Poor guy has every one of his people wishing to return home to Kremnos someday with him as their king and yet he’s terrified on letting the miserable traditions continue if he decides to take the crown. It really is a difficult decision. Do you keep everyone safe and unhappy, or allow them to thrive in a world of danger?
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Oohhh buddy, why must everyone on this planet be gorgeous?? Her mom is looking like a long lost cousin of Argenti and Himeko.
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Not gonna lie but this whole scene with the dolls felt so Sparkle coded that it scared me. I honestly jumped the first time everything glitched out.
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Well that’s a bright, red death flag if I ever saw one. Some trailers already gave me bad feelings regarding Tribbie, but this worsens it.
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Pfftt, Aglaea has no chill and I’m here for it. Protect your people, queen!
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I mean, sure, choosing how you pass on individually on your own terms may be better than losing every part of yourself all at once, but Aglaea has a point too, that seeing the many Tribios clones perish over and over again is a lot harder than having it happen just once and being done with. It’s not an easy situation to be in for either side.
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It really is incredible how powerful these century gates are and it kinda reminds me of Finral’s spacial magic (Black Clover) the way it’s able to teleport others and redirect incoming attacks or enemies.
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If I wasn’t already panicking then I sure am now! Look how upset and scared these cuties are! They know Trianne’s pushing herself too far for their sake and there’s truly nothing that they could do to stop what happens next, especially after seeing how much weaker she’s been getting recently.
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Aaahhh, I knew it.. seeing this scene from the Song of Divine Silence trailer gave me such bad vibes from the moment I saw it! And after learning the whole meaning behind “see you tomorrow” just makes everything hurt twice as much!! Trianne was definitely my favorite out of the trio too.. this is such a bummer!
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We interrupt the sudden heartbreak to bring you an adorably surprised Trailblazer.
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I do love that Mydei trusts Phainon with his one and only weakness. I dunno how thrilled I’d be if such a literal backstabbing does take place in a future patch though.
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Anaxa, the renowned scholar, using his gun as a shield against the Flame Reaver.. he’s doing his best. Forgive me but I do not remember much of this cutscene to know if he ever used the weapon the proper way. I was in a mix of tears and hype at this point.
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Bro look at how relieved Phainon is when he noticed that Mydei has arrived to help them with the fight! That’s such a wonderful smile.
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Sir, your confidence! It’s extraordinary! And I’m also very pleased with your sudden assistance!
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Just two bros, ready to go knock some sense into a common enemy. What could possibly be better than that?
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Okay, so I dunno about everyone else, but how did we feel about this fight? I personally had no trouble at all, even when we first fought him at the grove. The way they showcased him during the 3.1 livestream, I figured he was gonna be serious trouble, but I think the Nikador boss offered a tougher challenge. I didn’t even get the chance to see this dude’s big, fancy attack animation.
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Look at him, protecting his man. What a good lad. We still dunno anything about what Phainon’s path or element would be, but for some reason he gives Preservation vibes? like I know he wields a giant sword and is quite capable of using for offense, but seeing him defend Mydei like this makes me think he can use it as a sort of counter I guess? Maybe give me a taunt too? Who knows. We definitely need more Preservation units though.
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All hail the new king successfully securing another win for all.
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I feel like a whole lot just happened in such a short amount of time. Next post should cover the rest of this patch.
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The Mystery of Blacksteel Sanctum: A Retrospective
So, I loved TDP: Xadia, right? And my no-question favorite region was the Border: best environments, best NPCs, best-ish puzzles (look that ones a close call, okay), and best, most lore-rich story... which, in true TDP fashion, winds up raising more questions than it answers.
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This post, and the thought I've put into it, are kind of my love letter to that story... and the other people who loved it, or could have loved it.
So: let's talk about what was going on in Blacksteel Sanctum.
Catch-Up Summary for Non-Players
If you played TDP: Xadia during its brief lifespan, you can skip this section. But to bring anyone who didn't up to speed:
In the Border region, a joint effort is underway to establish and secure reliable routes for crossing between Xadia and the Human Kingdoms. This is challenged by two fronts of enemies—magma crawlers, an aggressive part-bug and part-crab pest species infesting the area, and Saranar and the Dawnbringers, a faction of rebel Sunfire elves hostile to the new peace. The missions for the region are thereby divided into two "plotlines" directed by accompanying NPCs: the crawler plot, led by human rogue zoologist Mervyn and ending with the Crawler Queen boss, and the Blacksteel Sanctum plot, led by Sunfire elf Knight Ravna and ending with the Blacksteel Forgemaster boss.
Got it? Okay.
Digging for the Truth: Blacksteel Sanctum Basics
After first encountering the (sealed) Blacksteel Sanctum beneath the surface of the Border, Ravna expresses shock that not only is the Sanctum here, but that it's even real. She summarizes its story as:
This is a fairly standard Atlantis-style story—a place of legendary technological or magical wonders, brought low by some calamity and its secrets lost forever. In this case, it's reportedly where the Sunfire elves started their journey as master smiths of magically-enhanced weapons and armor, but also largely considered to be a myth.
Knowing that Blacksteel Sanctum was real, can we determine what was actually being made there? Well, there's a prominent crossroads location in the Blacksteel Sanctum mission maps, a setpiece room featuring a massive, gilded statue:
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(That's not the room, but it is the same statue. Because of the way the game's camera and controls were set up, the statue was excruciatingly difficult to get even halfway-decent screen captures of in its in-game setting.)
Between the statue and the prominent, repeated use of the rune from Janai's Sunforge blade sheath as a decorative motif, it seems likely that Blacksteel Sanctum is the place where the first of the so-called "Sunforge" blades were, uh, forged. That technique was then either passed to or replicated by the Sunforge smiths.
There's even an answer for how Blacksteel Sanctum could compete with the Sunforge in magical power: in one of the magma crawler storyline missions, Mervyn concludes that "the same primal magic that led the ancient elves to build Blacksteel Sanctum here has attracted the crawlers." That source, whatever it is/was, made Blacksteel Sanctum's forges powerful enough to craft the first of the ever-burning blades that would later only be achievable with the Sunforge.
However, what should be considered the real trademark creation of Blacksteel Sanctum (as we shall see) is one Ravna is entirely unfamiliar with: those autonomous combat golems. She initially assumes they are strange suits of armor, and is astonished when they are able to move and fight, which suggests that not only did this technology never leave the Sanctum, it wasn't even preserved in the legends... and may have been deliberately excluded. At the same time, the golems are clearly the weapons the Dawnbringers are looking for, with Saranar stating her intending to march an army of them to retake Lux Aurea (after eliminating the humans and loyalist Sunfire elves securing the Border, of course). This raises the question: how exactly did the Dawnbringers find out about them? (Put a pin in that, we'll come back to it.)
Bearing Her Mark: The Forgemaster
In what is learned from exploring the Sanctum, a single significant figure emerges: the Forgemaster. She appears in a couple of recurring murals (technically they're on the floor, probably since that's the easiest area for the player to see), depicted as a radiant, almost queen-like leader of legendary stature:
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Who appears to even send her people into battle:
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This could just be figurative, in that she's sending forth Sunfire elf warriors through equipping them with the best and most powerful weapons. It's also very unclear who the enemy they are fighting actually is—the blocky, hooded figures contrast with the horned elves in a way that suggests they might be humans, possibly including dark mages?
Possibly confusing the timeline even more, the clearest reference to the Forgemaster as an actual person is the Signet of the Forgemaster item and its text:
All of Lux Aurea knew that armor bearing her mark would be as strong as her will.
From this, we know that the Forgemaster lived at a time contemporary with Lux Aurea—which doesn't actually tell us a huge amount, given that Elarion stood for a thousand years or more and Lux Aurea is no doubt even older. Did she leave Lux Aurea to establish Blacksteel Sanctum? Was this before the Sunforge, or maybe before the Sunforge was an actual forge-forge? If magical smithing was unknown to the Sunfire elves before Blacksteel Sanctum, presumably the Sunforge either didn't yet exist or was used for other purposes.
The problem is mostly that we don't have any real concept of what "ancient" means to elves. If we the Blacksteel Sanctum murals depict dark mages, that would mean that it can't have been buried more than 1,000 years, unless we're going to reject the conventional understanding of when dark magic entered the picture. Is 1,000 years ago considered "ancient" for elves? I wouldn't expect it to be, but realistically we just don't know.
(That being said, for Blacksteel Sanctum to have been founded shortly after the continent was split for the expulsion of humans would explain things like the discovery of a buried source of primal magic, unearthed by the massive geologic shift. The part I can't wrap my head around is the idea that the Sunfire elves didn't discover magical smithing until the same time that humans were being given dark magic... but I could get used to the idea.)
Anyway, in addition to this mysterious figure of the past, there's also, y'know... this Forgemaster:
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I.e., the "Blacksteel Forgemaster" golem, the first region boss encounter for the Border.
Story-wise, the Forgemaster golem is first referenced in an encounter with a Dawnbringer group that it exterminated, where the dying captain speaks of a "gleaming giant" defending the lower reaches of the Sanctum from exploration. Ravna confirms this account, and declares that the golem must be eliminated for further investigation of the Sanctum. Even at this point, it's not exactly a secret that there's a connection between this golem and the Sanctum's master smith:
This is made even more explicit after defeating the golem, when Ravna reveals that she went to inspect its remains, and it reactivated at her touch to deliver a message:
Now, Ravna seems to think that this was essentially a pre-recorded message stored in the golem, which is otherwise autonomous, but mindless. However, having played a video game or two with very similar plotlines... even if it's not where things start out, someone always eventually starts stuffing souls into these things. Personally, I have no doubt that this was the Forgemaster herself, or whatever shreds of her remained. This is also the first place we get an explicit reference to the Sanctum's downfall—that the Forgemaster herself went too far, and that horrible act, whatever it was, led to the Sanctum being abandoned.
Ravna is sympathetic to the Forgemaster golem's plea to let the Sanctum's secrets remain buried, and decides that once the scattered remnants of the Dawnbringers are cleared out, all exploration will end. She intends to return her full attention to the mission that really matters: securing the Border crossings and the shared future of humans and elves.
This is a fairly typical "act one" soft ending for a video game plotline that will be picked up again later—I very much doubt that it was intended to be the final, decisive ending of the story of Blacksteel Sanctum. My bet would be that the eventual TDP: Xadia roadmap would have included additional story arcs for each region, with new bosses and some new missions, maybe another mission map... something like that. These would be either a new story, probably sharing some of the same characters, or a continuation of the first "resolved" story from that region. For example, I would expect the Far Reaches to have a second act not centered around the Natamus, since that plot was pretty well wrapped up (though it could be opened again), but possibly following up on Zeph's mysterious backstory and departure at the end of the first arc.
For the Border and Blacksteel Sanctum, an obvious hook for act two would be for the Sanctum's true secrets, their awakening set in motion by the Dawnbringers, to finally started crawling up to the surface. Because I don't think the Forgemaster's golem was there only to keep intruders out... there's something down there that she was also intended to keep in.
Shadow and Flame: The Sanctum's Fall
(Oh, did you somehow think you were getting out of this without a Khazad-dûm reference? You were wrong.)
So the Forgemaster golem confesses to Ravna that she and her smiths did "something unforgivable," spurred by their own arrogance in considering themselves all-powerful, and their continued hunger for more knowledge and power in spite of that. However, there have also already been hints of a dark secret to the Sanctum, probably related to its decline and/or fall.
One is made nice and obvious in the form of the Sins of the Sanctum item, presented as a book and providing a one-line excerpt:
"... its moral heart did die and rot, but oh! Its fire and flames did not..."
Another, a bit more subtle, is the region armor set shared by Soren and Viren, which offers three ominous lines:
Something echoes in the metal. Does it sing, or does it scream? What did they bury down there beneath the earth?
Finally, and most importantly, there's what I'm just going to refer to as the "dragon forge." At the end of a story-oriented mission to escort Ravna herself while she explores the Sanctum, she calls out the final room in a pretty suspicious way:
Ravna links the Sanctum's most prominent forge with dragons, while Sins of the Sanctum links dragons, or a dragon, with the Sanctum's fall. There's also the reference in her original summary of the Sanctum's legends that one possible reason for its disappearance is that it was "destroyed by jealous dragons."
The draconic theme isn't the forge's only unusual feature, either:
It's worth noting that she delivers the line about its size immediately after you've defeated a giant mission-boss golem, so she's familiar with just how big those golems get. Based on the size and power of that golem, she also comments that her ancestors "clearly wanted this particular forge protected." We're meant to understand that whatever was made in this giant, dragon-themed forge was somehow special, and likely tied to the Sanctum's most prominent works... including the one that led to its downfall.
This is the room in question, by the way, or close enough to it:
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I'm not sure whether the stuff around the very perimeter is the same as in the game, but the dragon-themed forge itself and the floor pattern are accurate.
Ravna doesn't comment on the floor pattern, but I'm going to, because that center floor image is the main section of another mural that appears repeatedly throughout the Sanctum environment. It's on walls, banners, and floors, basically anywhere that a space needs to be filled. (The Forgemaster murals appear far more rarely, really only in specific areas.) With screenshots being both difficult to frame and not the best resolution, this non-game render is the clearest image of it:
It's easy to look at this and say "well, obviously that's the confrontation between Ziard and Sol Regem," except... it's not. Or if it is, it's not a depiction that makes any sense at all. Because look, if Sunfire elves know how to represent one thing in their decorative and architectural motifs... well, okay, back up for a second. If Sunfire elves know how to represent one thing, it's the sun. However, if they know how to represent two things, those are the sun and Sol Regem's horns. So unless everyone down in the Sanctum somehow forgot what Sol Regem looks like, that's not Sol Regem.
(There are actually no visual references to Sol Regem's horns in the entirety of Blacksteel Sanctum, aside from statues of juvenile dragons with only two horns in the same shape. Considering just how many there are in all other Sunfire architecture we've seen? That's weird. Like weird to the point that I wonder if it indicates some kind of schism between the Sanctum and Lux Aurea specifically about dragons.)
Additionally, the mural shows a massive, jagged hole in the dragon's chest, which is not something that happened to Sol Regem in the confrontation with Ziard. It's not 100% certain, but it seems to me that it makes more sense to interpret the central orb as being ripped from it, rather than being thrown at it. This is the imagery that is centrally and visibly featured in the dragon forge.
So we have 1) some terrible act by the Forgemaster, 2) the Sanctum's most prominent and unique forge being dragon-themed, 3) depictions of a dragon rent asunder, and 4) references to something buried in the depths, with fire and flame persisting beyond mortality.
Just to seal the deal, we also, if you do the kind of extensive ArtStation dive that I did, have this piece of concept art:
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As Ravna says, the dragon forge goes "beyond armor and weapons for elves," and in this concept we have what appears to be pieces of armor for a dragon. Obviously it would be a pointless exercise to arm a dragon with forged weaponry, but could they have tried to armor one? What would be so unforgivable about dragon armor?
But wait, what did Ravna herself mistake for armor, when first entering the Sanctum? That's right.
They built a goddamn dragon golem.
Furthermore, as with the Forgemaster golem, they definitely put some piece of an actual, living dragon into it. Whether that was its heart, or its spirit, or something else, it was torn out and caged in metal. This could have been a malicious attempt by the Forgemaster and her smiths to enslave a dragon into their own control, or it could have been an altruistic attempt to save the life of one that had been torn apart by something else (dark mages?) by playing god. Either way, it seems that it went... quite badly. Badly enough that the Forgemaster not only had the Sanctum sealed and abandoned, but also put herself into a golem the same way, so she could stand as an eternal guard against her creation ever escaping or being freed.
Unfortunately, I would bet money that the dragon golem has already been awakened (probably by the magma crawlers). Remember the question of how the Dawnbringers knew about the golems? Well, as Saranar lies dying, the golems having proved to be uncontrollable and turned on her, she says this:
Someone a) knew about Blacksteel Sanctum, a place Ravna wasn't certain was even real, b) knew about the golems still remaining there, something Ravna had never so much as heard legends about, and c) promised the Dawnbringers power and victory, should they breach the Sanctum and take the golems for themselves. This could be the plot of an unusually well-informed external actor manipulating the local gang as cannon fodder to access some heavily-guarded secret, except they already ran that exact plot in the Far Reaches with Vant and Margot over the Natamus. I think it's more likely that the dragon golem has found a way of communicating with the outside world, and brought the Dawnbringers to the Sanctum knowing that they wouldn't stop digging for more power and weapons until they inevitably went too far and unearthed it. With the Forgemaster golem defeated, the last true line of defense for either direction—into the Sanctum or out of it—is now gone. Like I said, it's an excellent set-up for a second act.
I mean, as the Dragonbreath Embers item puts it:
Go on. Let them out. Surely nothing bad will happen.
So yeah! We'll also probably never find out if any of this is correct, since even if the game never re-launches or continues, anyone who could tell us anything is almost definitely legally prohibited from doing so... but we may have been robbed of an eventual epic boss battle with a golem dragon, among the countless other things that were in TDP: Xadia's future. THANKS, NETFLIX.
—
Speaking of people under NDA, here are the TDP: Xadia artists whose public portfolios were invaluable to researching and making this post:
Marvin Tischler
Alice Cho
Jacinta Vu
Guillaume T. Delbarre
Margaret Dost
Nelson Dou
Rebecca Blessing
Sara Lansdell
#anyway NOT ME thinking about soul entrapment/transfer being almost exclusively a dark/deep magic thing#and sauron in the guise of annatar bringing the secrets of magical smithing to celebrimbor to forge the rings#the dragon prince#xadia game#tdp: xadia#sunfire elves
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From Long Prices to Long Odds - yep, I'm starting Pale Lights
While chipping away at my re-read of A Practical Guide to Evil, and with patch 8 of Baldur's Gate 3 STILL a ways out, I've started reading ErraticErrata's next big project - Pale Lights.
Right away I can tell how much the author's improved since book 1 of the Guide. We've got two point of view characters for our journey through the subterranean, post-apocalypse world of Vesper. Tristan Abrascal - orphan, street rat, and thief, with a vendetta to settle against the nobles who've wronged him; and Lady Angharad Tredegar, a noble in exile with nothing to her name save her sword arm and unshakable sense of honor, who has sworn vengeance against her family's killers, even as she's dogged by assassins at every step.
Both from worlds like night and day (or I guess that would be Gloam and Glare in this world), they could not be more different, but fate has set them on the same path; to survive to see their enemies punished, they must first survive the trials on the island - the Dominion of Lost Things - alongside other competitors from all walks of life, in order to escape their past and join the Watch, that special band of elite god-killers that toe the line between civilization and the monsters who lurk in the endless dark beyond the points of light.
And it really isn't any big spoiler or anything to mention contracts, basically pacts with supernatural beings for power and guidance. Both our main characters have them—Tristan with a minor god of luck (he's literally her only follower) called Fortuna, the Lady of Long Odds, who only he can interact with, and is constantly snarking at him; while Angharad's contract is with a mysterious entity of few words known only as the Fisher. Many other characters possess contracts that are detailed to varying degrees, but we get the closest look at them through our main characters, both patrons being just as different from each other as their human charges.
It's only a few chapters in that the supporting cast expands immensely, with over a dozen other competitors shipped off to the same destination. Some are paid for by a sponsor, like our protagonist duo, others are here by their own expense, mainly a group of Sacromontan nobles for whom getting even partway through the trials will gain them status with their families. And some are here because they have no other choice, forced in by debtors and legbreakers to pay with their lives or their eventual service in the Watch. Think Man in the Iron Mask meets And Then There Were None.
Keeping track of so many characters early on has been a challenge, but luckily the extremely prolific @gwennafran has created visual guides per chapter of the entire cast, their origins, abilities, affiliations, and status of living or dead or mia. It also serves as a handy reference to visualize what everyone looks like, the cast being just as diverse and multicultural as in the Guide, except everyone's human this time around.
Where the Guide draws from Mediterranean Europe and North Africa for its naming conventions and cultural touchstones, Pale Lights starts us off with a very Central and South America-inspired setting. Place names like Izcalli and Sacromonte, the nobles of the latter being referred to constantly as infanzones (literally minor nobles in Spanish), are just a few early examples. Right now the scope is very limited, starting in one city before moving to a "deserted" island, which is actually totally occupied by hollows, or "darklings", the extremely indigenous-coded pale-skinned people who have completely adapted to living in the total dark of Vesper, away from any pits of Glare (the perpetual light shining through cracks in firmament above, where most civilization gathers). Especially given we're already exploring class dynamics of nobles and non-nobles, I expect we'll also find the "Red Eye cultists" to be more than they appear at first.
I'm only 16 chapters in, and already am very much hooked. Both Tristan and Angharad serve as excellent foils for each other; pragmatist vs idealist, street smarts vs noble scion, untrusting to a fault vs too honorable for her own good. It's all very delicious, and I have reasons to root for both of them even as their beliefs and methods remain anathema to each other. One of the coolest things about a primarily single-perspective narrative are those times when you can see that character from an outsider's view, and because each chapter or two flips between protagonists, we get an impression of how both of them come across to other people, giving us a chance to be out of their heads for a bit.
Dunno how often I'll post live reading thoughts on this one, but I'll certainly try, including anytime I finish a book; which right now is just the two. But hey, at least with this one I'll be catching up to current releases, which is a nice change of pace.
#pale lights#webnovel#tristan abrascal#angharad tredegar#I can see why fans refer to Angharad as 'Angie' in place of trying to pronounce her name lol#I looked up the pronunciation right away and just pronounce it like the Welsh name (humble brag)#but I get it if others have more trouble with it#oh yeah also the thematic similarities to Blades in the Dark also stood out to me right away#from the perpetually dark setting to the large amount of scoundrel characters#even the pacts with minor gods and spirits in place of ghosts#queue
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the suyeol lore is so crazy
#their relationship is so interesting to me like aoughhhh#like you see subaek and even tho they don't talk a lot on camera (most of the time) those two get along so well#they understand and respect each other so much they take their job very seriously and they're actually good friends as a result#suyeol on the other hand is 12 years of slowburn like it's crazyyyyy#you admire him and believe in him like no one else does and then you discover that he isn't that great actually#so you get disappointed and distance yourself and then you both are in this weird limbo for years as you grow up#and slowly but surely you rediscover how your relationship works because both of you are adults now and now we're here#like yeah suhito was stressed back then the context was not great for a leader AND tao was still with exo so lmao pcy could fend for himself#so i get ittttt they were going through it but. i need to know what he said to pcy like oh my god was it really that bad 😭#i wonder if they've ever mentioned it 🤔#writing this bc i just remembered that one time they had to describe e/o and suho was like#“you're my cute dongsaeng i admire your talents so much and oh btw you're not uncomfortable around me these days right? uwu”#LIKE ??? KING YOU CAN'T SAY THAT AND LEAVE US IN THE DARK#(<- they totally can it's not our business lmao)#idolization to tentative ''''enemies'''' to coworkers to friends to good friends is crazy#i need to look into this properly omg let's do some research#anyways i want a subunit :) they can be called exo sc too sehun won't mind bc these are like his favorite people in the world!!!#idk i find the exos and their bond so interesting because you truly have it all with them there's a whole spectrum of friendships#and i appreciate that it's not like with b*s & taegi (if you don't know who they are... let's keep it that way <3)#because those two were just too different to get along. it was extreme. but bighit forced it so much it was painful to see sometimes#and then the hawaii trip came and they painted it like a ''see? after this trip they get along so well now <3'' moment#1. girl let's be serious for a sec 😐 and 2. it's not our business!!!!! focus on making good music!!!!!#i'm so glad exo didn't have to go through something like that bc i just know that they'd have disbanded by now sjfsifjsk#the saranghaja sprite isn't that intense we lovr freedom of choice (keeping in mind that they were under sm) <33333#so YEAH. can you guys tell i can't sleep hehe :)#dara.t#suho and chanyeol
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When I was in ninth grade I wanted to challenge what I saw as a very stupid dress code policy (not being allowed to wear spikes regardless of the size or sharpness of the spikes). My dad said to me, “What is your objective?”
He said it over and over. I contemplated that. I wanted to change an unfair dress code. What did I stand to gain? What did I stand to lose? If what I really wanted was to change the dress code, what would be my most effective potential approach? (He also gave me Discourses on the Fall of Rome by Titus Livius, Machiavelli’s magnum opus. Of course he’d already given me The Prince, Five Rings, and The Art of War.)
I ultimately printed out that phrase, coated it in Mod Podge, and clipped it to my bathroom mirror so I would look at it and think about it every day.
What is your objective?
Forget about how you feel. Ask yourself, what do you want to see happen? And then ask, how can you make it happen? Who needs to agree with you? Who has the power to implement this change? What are the points where you have leverage over them? If you use that leverage now, will you impair your ability to use it in the future? Getting what you want is about effectiveness. It is not about being an alpha or a sigma or whatever other bullshit the men’s right whiners are on about now. You won’t find any MRA talking points in Musashi, because they are not relevant.
I had no clear leverage on the dress code issue. My parents were not on the PTA; neither were any of my friend’s parents who liked me. The teachers did not care about this. Ultimately I just wore what I wanted, my patent leather collar from Hot Topic with large but flattened spikes, and I had guessed correctly—the teachers also did not care enough to discipline me.
I often see people on tumblr, mostly the very young, flail around in discourse. They don’t have an objective. They don’t know what they want to achieve, and they have never thought about strategizing and interpersonal effectiveness. No one can get everything they want by being an asshole. You must be able to work with other people, and that includes smiling when you hate them.
Read Machiavelli. Start with The Prince, but then move on to Discourses. Read Musashi’s Five Rings. Read The Art of War. They’re classics for a reason. They can’t cover all situations, but they can do more for how you think about strategizing than anything you’re getting in middle school and high school curricula.
Don’t vote third party unless you can tell me not only what your objective is but also why this action stands a meaningful chance of accomplishing it. Otherwise, back up and approach your strategy from a new angle. I don’t care how angry you are with Biden right now. He knows about it, and he is both trying to do something and not doing enough. I care about what will happen to millions of people if we have another Trump presidency. Look up Ross Perot, and learn from our past. Find your objective. If it is to stop the genocide in Palestine now, call your elected representatives now. They don’t care about emails; they care about phone calls, because they live in the past. I know this because I shadowed a lobbyist, because knowing how power works is critical to using it.
How do you think I have gotten two clinics to start including gender care in their planning?
Start small. Chip away. Keep working. Find your leverage; figure out how and when to effectively use it. Choose your battles, so that you can concentrate on the battle at hand instead of wasting your resources in many directions. Learn from the accumulated wisdom of people who spent their lives learning by doing, by making mistakes, by watching the mistakes of their enemies.
Don’t be a dickhead. Be smarter than I was at 14. Ask yourself: what is your objective?
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Why The Arcane S2 Finale Fumbled, Part I
arcane season 2 was artistically beautiful and thematically cheap. every interesting and meaningful thing it did with its characters (even in season 2 act 2) was reduced to romanticized bullshit, utterly divorced from its season 1 roots. it's so bad it can be considered pro-status quo propaganda (and i do mean that). good ships aside (and i do mean the caitivi, jayvik, timebomb holy triad), this season squats and shits on every zaunite character in the show. not just their zaunite-ness, but how it literally shaped who they were as characters.
Let's start with Vi:
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Vi and Vander:
Vi's loyalty to The Lanes always went beyond Powder. Zaun was her father's, Vander's dream. Zaun was her friends and her family. When she's giving Caitlyn a tour of The Lanes, we see how much she embodies and revels in Zaunite culture (esp in the food scene). She took responsibility for the vulnerable, like Vander taught her to. Her "protective" trait extended to ALL the vulnerable in The Lanes, because Vander taught her that. It wasn't EVER just Powder. Zaun is her HOME. As a child, she wanted to make a name for herself IN ZAUN "one day, this city's gonna respect us." You can make the excuse that Vander's death meant that side of her died, but it clearly didn't because of how she regarded it while showing Caitlyn around. "Family" to Vander, extended to the vulnerable of Zaun, which is how Vi and Powder came to be his "daughters" in the first place. Because Zaun was for THEM. Zaun WAS THEM. Vander and Silco "weren't allowed to fail" at Zaun (i.e. the two daughters).
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Additionally, Vi and Jinx were supposed to succeed where Vander and Silco hadn't: forgiving each other and uniting so they could realize their dream for a free Zaun. A big reason why Zaun struggles to be free is because of their own internal divisions (the different gangs fighting for scraps). But if they united, they would be able to liberate themselves from Piltover (who is still the enemy). The whole reason the others are prosperous in the alternate timeline Ekko and Heimerdinger travel to is because Vander and Silco reconcile (not because Vi dies).
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Vander also passes on his sense of responsibility to Vi. He tells a repeatedly vengeful Vi how her ambition to show up her oppressors can overshadow the more pressing priority of looking after those more vulnerable than her i.e. Powder. Like Silco, his advice to his daughter is steeped in his own trauma of getting so zealous he didn’t stop to think what it would cost.
Vi and Caitlyn:
Caitlyn was an interesting development for Vi, particularly because Caitlyn mirrored Vander's care for all people. Caitlyn was an enforcer that wanted to truly understand and help people. This challenged Vi's biases and also gave them a common goal. Caitlyn appealed to Vi because she gave Vi renewed hope for peace in The Lanes. That Zaun could be free through co-operation instead of violence. Her whole teaming up with Caitlyn, romance aside, was predicated on Vi brokering for peace between Zaun and Piltover (and getting revenge on Silco).
The first break-up between the two (Season 1's "Oil and Water") centred around Jinx, more or less. Vi believes Silco is a threat to peace between Piltover and Zaun (even though The Lanes aren't known as Zaun to her, I'm just using the names interchangeably). She believes Jinx is acting out due to Silco's influence, as well (and she isn't wrong). Had Caitlyn not been injured on the bridge (and had Jinx not felt betrayed by Vi), Vi was going to leave her in pursuit of Jinx. Vi has also never fit into Piltover (and that's also shown in Season 2 act 1-2). She makes no connections with Piltovians besides Cait and (an already disillusioned) Loris who we see for like two seconds.
Vi and Jinx:
This show was ALWAYS about a tale of two sisters/cities. When Vi becomes an enforcer, it isn't because she's switched loyalties. She wants peace for The Lanes, she just wants to take Silco's creation--Jinx--out of the equation so it can work. Her priority, like Vander’s, is to keep the vulnerable of The Lanes safe, and both were willing to co-operate with Piltover to protect the people they loved. She believes, like Vander did with Silco, that Jinx (and by extension Zaun) is her responsibility. That the reason bad things happened to Zaunites (Vi’s and Powder’s parents dead on the bridge, Jinx’s mania) is their fault.
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Vi blames herself for creating Jinx as Vander does for creating Silco. The only reason Vi agrees to Caitlyn's plan is because, again, their two goals align: get Jinx. The difference is Vi wants to kill Jinx to kill Silco, while Cait wants to kill Jinx to get her city (mother) back. Vi is still explicitly concerned about Jinx, who she has come to see as a threat to other people she loves (e.g. Ekko, Cait, etc). Vi became an enforcer to protect The Lanes and the (appearance) of peace. Vi internalized Vander’s words and doesn’t want war, even if it means Zaun never becomes independent. But she is doing it as penance for what she feels she didn’t do that led Jinx to become what she is.
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The show in season 2 TOTALLY LOST THIS FOCUS. Vi's guilt at hunting down her own people with enforcers is ALSO ignored a lot by fandom, especially because her post-breakup scene where she goes full goth is framed as regret for letting Cait down (rather than the self-disgust she would feel for joining her oppressors). Vi played a part in creating Jinx and her enforcer-arc is still centred around Jinx. This gets shoved aside for romance with Cait. All the time we could spend post-breakup focusing on the sisters, quickly circles back to Cait.
Cait, who, literally became a dictator and weaponized the air ducts her mother had created to SAVE ZAUNITES. The whole thing is viewed as Vi betraying Cait instead of Vi betraying Jinx/Zaun/her family and Cait betraying Vi ("promise me you won't change") and her mother. Cait was the one who sought to help Zaun (like her mother) but betrayed who she was when she was willing to kill Isha, an innocent child.
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Vi would feel even more guilty at how she is literally in an enforcer's suit when she is about to kill Jinx, the only family she has left. She is literally hunting down Jinx, a Zaunite, like the enforcers had her parents. But we barely explore that. It’s just off to chasing Vander/Warwick only for it to not matter anyways!
(ALSO IMPORTANT: Just to further prove my point on how integral the sister's love for each other was, every show started with a record playing. The cover of the disc was Vi and Jinx. They were always the center focus of the story. The song that the record played? Likely "Our Love" by Curtis Harding and Jazmine Sullivan which goes "Our love is a bubblin' fountain, our love, that flows into the sea, our love, deeper than the ocean, our love for eternity." This love deeper-than-the-ocean can apparently crumble in the face of a dictator girlfriend you've known for less than a year lmao).
Summary of Fumbles:
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-Vi's and Jinx's relationship becomes secondary not just to the entire plot of the show but to Vi's arc. Zaun and Piltover's conflict was set up to be the epitome of the show, and the fact that it got shelved for some (ahem military propaganda) epic battle between humans and robots is very telling about the writers and showrunners.
-Vi forgives Cait easily and prematurely, trashing Vi's true loyalties as established in earlier seasons/episodes and robbing Cait’s actions of their appropriate weight.
-(above is an excerpt from Amanda Overton's interview with TheGamer) The culmination of love for Vi's character ends with Caitlyn and not Jinx. Vi's character, whose love is explicitly centred on Zaun and her family, reaches its peak in romance with a Piltovian. To quote Amanda further: "If Vi had no one left to protect, she would fall in love." As if Vi had no ambition outside of protecting her family. As if her dream since she was a kid wasn't tied so much into Zaun. As if the reason she wore an enforcer outfit wasn't because of Zaun. As if Zaunites aren't suffering right under her nose. As if she was the only kid in Stillwater Prison and struggled to survive the whole time she was there. I can't pretend to stomach it. (Again, it's not that Vi shouldn't be happy, it's that the ship had to shove this aspect of her character aside for it to work). If they wanted to really commit to the Vi-in-video game origin story, they should have set it up better and stuck to it.
-Vi herself takes a back seat in most of season 2, and becomes a passive, guilt-riddled yes-man to Cait
-Vander's re-introduction is almost completely worthless to the plot and narrative (he comes back just to die), and he is used as a cheap way to re-unite (and then separate) the daughters in a way that has no significance to the themes (also, Silco as Jinx's father is completely ignored during this time)
-Cait's deferral to fascism should have been permanent. Idc about the shippers at this point. Vi and Cait should have never come back from Cait shoving the back of her gun into Vi's injured side (let alone the gassing of the ducts). Vi would've never forgiven her, attraction or no. The fact that Cait could become a dictator after losing one parent is proof of their class divides (after all, Vi held onto hope despite losing all her parents to enforcers and Jinx was all she had left of her family). That should have cemented the death of that relationship (and it would have made for more compelling storytelling on class). I’m thinking it was kept because it matters more to white Western audiences to have a Romeo x Juliet rendition that assuages their classist sensitivities. Cait becoming a fascist made sense and was true to her character and the world. Vi forgiving her (and then having sex with her in the prison she was thrown into as a child?) destroyed both her character and the narrative.
Yeah, yeah, Vi was overwhelmed by the breadth of love and forgiveness Caitlyn had in letting Jinx go, but that's bare minimum shit. Vi "always choosing wrong" because she *checks notes* keeps trying to reconcile with her sister instead of letting her go since she isn't Powder anymore? So she resolves her guilt by choosing her own pleasure and putting herself first for once. Okay, I don't have a problem with that except that Vi and Jinx were supposed to succeed where Vander and Silco hadn't--by reconciling! And you still won't get me to like the fact that so much of Vi's character arc gets held up in a Piltovian who encouraged her to do the worst shit to her OWN PEOPLE and then fucking turned on her when she couldn't kill her sister. It is frankly amazing how we're supposed to celebrate Caitlyn literally coming between the sisters. I'd rather Vi forgiving Jinx than Caitlyn. And if the whole appeal of Vi's relationship with Caitlyn is that she was overwhelmed with love for how Caitlyn forgave Jinx after she killed her mother, I don't see how a relationship with Cait automatically makes Vi feel less guilty, since Cait also makes her feel guilty for choosing Jinx (remember her accusation "you will always choose her" like sorry I don't want to kill my orphaned, traumatized sister who I ripped into for making an honest mistake as a child and who has carried that since). Caitlyn (as others have pointed out) got a whole ceremony for her mother and instantly turned on Vi's people. The Vi I know would have been like, "You really are all the same," and FUCKING DIPPED. And there's a little acknowledgement of this in act 1 where Vi accuses Caitlyn of acting like Jinx.
Both Jinx and Caitlyn are emotional labour for Vi. Vi still wants to protect Caitlyn from Jinx. There's not that much of a difference, lol, except that Caitlyn is a privileged Piltovian and Jinx is a victim of the abysmal childhood she suffered at the hands of enforcers. Yet the show is more or less saying Vi pursuing reconciliation with Jinx was a bad choice for Vi and the reason the cycle of violence continued (for some reason). The sister reconciliation was what I was here for, personally. Cute ships aside. But noooo, Vi should forgive Cait (not Jinx) to stop the cycle.
And having jail sex is a liberating act for her because it's where they had their meet-cute. (And we're all good bc Caitlyn gave up the Kiramman seat, lmao, like sure okay).
It's frankly made the ship that much more unpalatable. If Vi had to be destroyed as a character for the ship to work, then the ship wasn't all that good (even though it started off that way). It's honestly left such a bad taste in my mouth. What a fuck you to oppressed groups that whole subplot was. (And it's made worse by the fact that the creator thought that was somehow an empowering and liberating act for Vi, like fuck that).
Let's Talk About Victor:
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Viktor and Heimerdinger:
Heimerdinger and Viktor were the most polar of opposites. Heimerdinger was not only a privileged, ulta-wealthy Piltovian, but he had a comparatively endless lifespan while Viktor's own human life-span was cut short due to being a Zaunite, born at the bottom of the barrel and raised on toxic fumes that led to his terminal illness. Viktor's desperation to unlock the Arcane was explicitly about him overcoming his circumstances, his illness, his premature death. It wasn't merely about his internalized ableism, but the unjust way in which he had to suffer. Heimmerdinger could afford patience because he had all the time and resources in the world, but Viktor didn't. Not merely because he was a mortal, but because he was a Zaunite.
Viktor and Singed:
Viktor's arc with hextech is foreshadowed with his childhood interaction with Singed. I understand that in the games, Viktor is a villain-type character and his catchphrase or whatever is "Join the Glorious Evolution," which the show hinted at from Season 1 when Singed explained his experiments to Viktor. While Viktor is horrified by Singed killing the creature that he eventually uses for shimmer, Viktor later says, "I understand," hinting that he saw the sacrifice (and death) necessary to "heal" the world of its ailments. Both Viktor and Singed grow up in The Lanes, and both have ailments they want to cure (for Viktor it is his lung cancer and for Singed its his daughter's dying). In season 2, Viktor tells Singed that while he understands what healing all those people could cost him, he will not sacrifice their humanity for Singed's cause. This is because of Sky’s death (which is partly why it is her who is in the Arcane with him).
Sky’s death is what makes Viktor beg Jayce to destroy the hex core, since he couldn’t do it himself. He is willing to die if that means no more innocent people do. But here’s where I get a little touchy. VIKTOR didn’t KNOW she was there. Viktor was simply desperate to live. Sky’s death was not malicious (even if it’s true to his character that he’d feel guilty anyways). It is at this point that Viktor has Jayce promise him to destroy the hex core (and by god is this where a lot of my contention with the finale comes from). Also, it is important to note that Viktor’s self-loathing is depicted only in regard to Sky’s death (NOT HIS BAD LEG). Now Viktor feels guilty not just for Sky’s death, but also necessarily for trying to live (AND PLEASE KEEP THIS IN MIND). TRYING TO LIVE is subtly treated as an AMBITION that, for Viktor, interfered with his ethics. (And please note that in the end, Singed, who repeatedly embraces unethical practices for reviving his dying daughter gets what he wants).
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Anyway, in S2, Jayce blasts Viktor in the chest and all that conviction goes out the window. All this despite Sky (his conscience and “humanity”) being there with him in the astro-nether. Now Viktor's idea of becoming a higher being is just getting rid of emotion (apparently because Jayce did it or something). Jayce killing him without explanation was all of a sudden all he needed to become a divine dictator. The same Viktor that looked terminal illness in the face and preferred to spare others instead of himself? The same Viktor who's immediate action after waking up with a new body was to go and use the arcane he wished had been destroyed to help others? Because the arcane is corrupting him? That’s convenient for a certain political narrative. Especially because anyone would hesitate pressing a button (in Viktor’s case smashing the hex core) that would guarantee their death. Viktor was being human, not corrupt.
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Viktor and Jayce:
Now, I think Jayce's speech had some merit and could have been framed better with a little more time and thought. The philosophical idea of perfection or a perfect world (one which Piltoverians strive toward) being untenable, maybe even undesirable, is a fascinating concept worth exploring. BUT MAKING IT ABOUT SOME INTERNALIZED ABLEISM FROM VIKTOR IS FUCKING STUPID!!!! I'm sorry, but Piltover being the city of progress until it actually included becoming progressive with Zaun was absolutely one of the things Jayce and Viktor's sub-plot was trying to explore.
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Viktor WANTED TO LIVE. Viktor wanted his people to STOP SUFFERING. Viktor WAS RIGHT. He wasn't merely eliminating "imperfections" (and of FUCKING COURSE A PILTOVIAN WOULD SEE IT THAT WAY), he was trying to cure sick and dying people who did nothing to deserve it. He was buying them time that people like Jayce and Heimmerdinger had in spades, but Viktor and Zaunites had stolen from them.
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Children dying of disease and violence in The Lanes was by Piltovian design! It was not some predestined cosmic necessity. Viktor WAS RIGHT TO HATE HIS FUCKING TERMINAL ILLNESS ARE THESE GUYS INSANE??! Wtf kind of message is Viktor embracing it as part of himself sending to vulnerable, impoverished and ill people? Is that supposed to be some kind of fucking comfort? Fuck off right to hell!
Like I'm glad if it resonated with any disabled people, but Viktor's struggle with his body was a protest against Piltover, not himself, and I hate that the writers gutted that character development. Viktor's and Jayce's paths "diverged a long time ago" because Jayce had the luxury and time of pursuing his dream while Viktor didn't. Viktor, even up there as a scholar of Piltover, was still getting the Zaunite treatment.
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Jayce had the time to pursue a better world, while Viktor had to struggle for a little more time. When Viktor becomes part of the arcane, suddenly he has all the time in the world to realize HIS OWN DREAM. Why would wanting a better world for others have to result in "dreamless solitude"? Why does wanting progress equal wanting perfection? You are changing the subject and that is cheating!!!!
Viktor becoming obsessed with fixing what ailed humanity was warranted, and his extremism was hinted to have been due in part to the effect the arcane had on him, but it still made the themes of arcane a joke. There was so much potential and the writers (and showrunners) just squandered it for some more romantic bullshit.
The Glorious Fumblings (A Summary):
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-"Humanity, our very essence, is inescapable. Our emotions, rage, compassion, hate. Two sides of the same coin, intractably bound. That which inspires us to our greatest good is also the cause of our greatest evil.” That's a neat quote, but wars don't start simply due to emotions or whatever. This lacks class analysis, and it's annoying that the writers made this the whole theme of season 2 (and retroactively the show) in a story on class divides. Cait did not merely gas the Zaunites because of her mother, but because of her privileged upbringing that made it more acceptable to her to view Zaunites as animals (remember Ekko telling her enforcers “hunt us down like animals"). Cait knew the humanity of Zaunites was real. She just chose to ignore it because she could afford to. While it is interesting that Viktor would come to see being human as a flaw that destroys any hope of achieving peace (conflict theory would like a word with you), it ignored that fascism is not an inherently human trait and detracts from how or why it persists in the first place. It's almost the same as saying men/white people oppress women/poc because the latter were mean to them. It's victim-blaming (and false lmao). The British didn't colonize the Americans because the natives did anything to them. All prejudice is unjustified, that's what makes it prejudice. Again, Cait became a fascist when her mom died, but Vi still drew the line at killing children and even council members despite losing every single one of her family members to Piltover's violence against The Lanes. AND THAT’S JUST IT. Why the Zaunites do what they do isn’t simply because of love and hate, but because of the desperate circumstances they are forced into by their oppressors. Why the Piltovians do what they do, isn’t because of love or hate, but because they are bread in luxury and affluence. Pretending that’s not the case is an insult to the work put into Arcane’s first season (and anyone with a brain and basic empathy).
-Jayce's speech would have been cute in another story, but it's downright insulting in Arcane's. Yes, yes, Jayce's words would have been the only ones to have broken the real Viktor out of Arcane Viktor's grasp by appealing to this deep childhood wound, but Viktor's desperation was not to belong (because his leg kept him from playing with other children) but TO LIVE (because he was dying of an illness). Jayce's speech isn't bad, just misplaced. Like most of the finale.
-Viktor did not have to become a fascist-aligned deity in his quest to heal people. It is a typical MCU thing to have a "villain" that's technically right and then destroy their entire character to make their (correct) philosophy untenable by making them do something extreme. Typical pro-status quo propaganda trope. I DON’T CARE if it was so we could get some game version of him. Viktor was right in bringing progress and his discoveries to The Lanes instead of devoting his efforts to Piltover, the fake city of progress.
-While I am annoyed that the climax of the show hinged on Jayce and Viktor and hextech (a tool to explore the inequalities of Piltover and Zaun) instead of Jinx and Vi, I think it kinda makes sense. Hextech built what Piltover has now become. Jayce, Viktor and hextech kinda represent Piltover (what it could be) and Jinx and Vi represent The Lanes (and the Zaun it could be). Both would have been integral, but the story shouldn't have hinged on hextech, IMO. Hextech should have remained a tool to explore the politics of both cities, but instead it overshadowed everything, cheapening the story's themes, characters and world-building.
-Jayce calling the Zaunites to arms was downright absurd. But not as absurd as Zaunites volunteering.
And Then There's Jinx:
Jinx and Isha:
Isha's only use, as far as I'm concerned, was to be a reconciling force between the sisters. When Cait was willing to shoot her to get to Jinx, that should have stopped Vi right there and brought her back to defending Jinx 100% I DON’T CARE. When Isha sacrificed her life to save Jinx, that should have been Jinx's wake-up call right there and helped her understand why Vi kept leaving her out of missions as a kid. But instead what do we get? Depressed, suicidal Jinx and an astoundingly even more resentful and indifferent Vi. Now Jinx sees herself as even more of a poison to those she loves (because she can’t protect them like Vi can and frequently kills them while trying to do so). Jinx, who has always wanted to be useful to those she loves. Who pursued her own hextech inventions in order to give her siblings a fighting chance when facing down Silco. Who wants to give Zaun a fighting chance as Silco's daughter (and Isha’s surrogate mother). To be useful to the goals and dreams of her family. Isha was the perfect opportunity to bring the sisters together and get Jinx to embrace all she is (both the Jinx that Vi rejects and the Powder that Silco rejected), but no. Instead, the kid was some kind of foreshadowing to Jinx's own heroic self-sacrifice for her sister (a message that left both sister's arcs unfinished). Or perhaps, Isha was a commentary on the cycle of violence. But that this sub-plot really wasn't needed given what we'd already established in Season 1.
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Why do I say this?
Because the cycle of violence is not a "Jinx" issue, but a Piltover one, and the writers making it an interpersonal issue instead of a political/sociological one damaged the story and what Jinx's character could have meant to mentally ill people like her. It wasn't illogical storytelling, just far less meaningful than it could have been. It would have been more powerful and moving and impactful for Jinx to realize where the true cycle of violence (as established the whole fucking show from the dead parents on the bridge, to Vander and Silco, to Jinx and Vi, to Jinx and Ekko, to Isha and Warwick, to Cait and Vi, etc) was coming from.
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Jinx needed to accept herself and the love others showed toward her (Silco, Vander, Ekko and Vi). Jinx keeps blowing things up because she repeatedly rejects herself (both Powder and Jinx), ignoring the good she's done and tried to do. Isha was a call back to the good Jinx has done and can continue to do for Zaun and others. Isha and Sevika understood (even though Silco unfairly set it up) that Jinx was actually their good luck, their hope, more than just a hex (pun intended) on the city. After all, Jinx made Sevika her new arm (even though she's the reason Sevika lost her arm in the first place), which further proves that Jinx had the capacity to fix some of what she broke. It would have been better for her to embrace responsibility and have the faith to try and fix things (ESP her relationship with Vi). While it is not unrealistic or necessarily bad writing that she would fake her own death to run away and start over (or just die) trying to save Vi, the arc people she represented deserved was her embracing Vi back, not accepting that she was a curse in Vi's life. And most definitely NOT romanticizing her pain.
Jinx and Ekko:
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Ekko's and Jinx's relationship is precisely an exploration of how Piltover's violence against Zaun forced these children with entire futures ahead of them (they are both child prodigies) into endless war and hellish heroism. Ekko and Jinx are repeatedly shown to be hesitant and even unwilling to participate in violence against others, especially their own. Ekko does not hate Jinx, though he wants to, and Jinx does not like who she is when she's violent. She is trigger-happy because she already expects Vi and Ekko to want to kill her (projecting her self-loathing on them, but not entirely unreasonably). She doesn't have faith in their love or mercy because she doesn't see any part of herself as redeemable or loveable, which is why she consistently sabotages her life (but not without help from Vi and others).
Ekko and Jinx are symbols of progress for Zaun AND Piltover (and Heimerdinger saw that, especially when Ekko insisted he had to go back to his timeline, even if the one he had landed in was better). Heimmerdinger saw what they could have been in the alternate timeline, all the genius that was squandered in The Lanes. Jinx and Ekko are the ones most willing to put an end to violence and injustice because both of them are nostalgic for their families. All that’s ever kept them going is the love of their families. Jinx just doesn't have the same faith in her ability to be their hero as Ekko does, but Ekko manages to convince her for a moment anyways.
Ekko recognizes (like Silco, Viktor and Isha) how integral Jinx is to the creation of a new world. She injects colour and life and hope into Zaun and is the only one who can unite all warring factions in Zaun in the first place. I know people have gripes with this Jinx being the hero of Zaun when she literally killed Silco, opening the market for other gangs, but her most famous act is the bombing of the Council, which pretty much all Zaunites were unaware was about to grant them independence. To the average citizen of Zaun and Piltover, Jinx was the symbol of a revolution (even if Jinx didn’t see herself that way and didn’t really want to be). Both her and Ekko are rebel leaders, but that is hardly used in Zaun's interests in the end. (ALSO THAT WHOLE CONVERSATION WITH VIKTOR AND JINX WHERE HE SAID SHE COULD BE USEFUL TO HIS WORK. This show would have won with a Viktor and Jinx team-up to unite Zaun--also in parallel to Jayce and Vi's team up. We could have had it all!)
Jinx and Silco:
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This, is only second to Vi in the most FUMBLED things about Jinx. Silco was her guide once Vander died and Vi ran away. Silco not only took care of her, but gave her purpose (someone to love and be loved by and protect) and nurtured her talent (one that many others scorned). Silco accepted Jinx even though he weaponized her (which backfired for him). As much as Silco WAS WRONG to lie about Vi (manipulating Jinx) and even try to kill Vi (which was a dumbass move on his part), he wasn't wrong about Jinx's path to healing: self-acceptance and self-forgiveness. And even though Silco's own stupidity led Jinx to "embrace" Silco's version of Jinx to the point that she bombed the Council right when they'd granted Zaun independence (I wanted to fucking kill myself watching that), Jinx was still not ENTIRELY a jinx as Jinx (e.g. when she rescued Zaunites from Stillwater Prison). This fucked up dude did a whole John-the-Baptist thing where Vander tried to drown him with Jinx so she could embrace her Jinx-ness. But I don't think he was telling her to embrace that she was a curse like Vi meant it, but to embrace her new life (baptism is all about death and rebirth) and her new self and take responsibility for it.
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Silco, like Ekko, was the one who saved Jinx from death and offered Jinx a home. While everyone else patronized Jinx for her own childhood trauma, Silco was gentle, understanding and provided space for that, even when her psychosis killed him. He showed zero resentment toward her. But when Silco dies and Vander returns, Jinx just . . . oopsie, doopsie! Forgets about Silco until one final hallucination she has of him in the jail cell. The only one she has where he talks. And what does he say? She needs to break the cycle. How? Not by eliminating Piltover or gaining Zaun's independence like he'd talked about and dreamed about. Not by accepting herself as Jinx and Powder, the inventor, the fighter, daughter of both Silco and Vander, but by offing herself? Leaving her family to think she's dead? Embracing the lie that she really was the poison in their lives and the reason none of them could be happy? The reason they died? NICE! SWELL! WHAT A SATISFYING, INSPIRING CONCLUSION! Even worse, they made her "death" staged. I'm sorry, but do we really believe that this same girl who killed herself multiple times in front of Ekko just 24 hours ago somehow found the will to live and escape into air ducts when she was falling with Vander? She decided to live right when she was about to die? And let's not forget that she was falling to the same song that was playing when she was trying to commit suicide. Why? And why would a heroic death (staged or not) be any form of character growth for Jinx in the first place? When her whole thing is distrusting the love offered to her? Or was she accepting herself by being the one to kill Vander because she knew Vi couldn't? Either way, it's cheap!
I Wonder Who Put All Those Holes In You (Fumbling Summary):
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-Vander's letter to Silco could have been why she hallucinated Silco talking to her about forgiveness, but breaking the cycle here is about forgiving (unapologetic) Piltovians instead of herself, which needed to happen to complete her arc.
-Isha and Vander misery porn
-(above is an excerpt from Amanda Overton's TheGamer interview) to paraphrase: "SO OUR GRAND CONCLUSION TO VI AND JINX'S ARC WAS TO CONFIRM THAT YES, JINX WAS INDEED A JINX (AND NOT PILTOVER OR ANYTHING HAHA) AND THE SISTERS WOULD ONLY HAVE PEACE IF THEY NEVER RECONCILED - JUST LIKE THEIR FATHERS BECAUSE THAT WORKED OUT SO WELL THE FIRST TIME! :D THE REASON THEIR LIVES ARE IN SHAMBLES ARE PURELY BECAUSE OF THEIR OWN PERSONAL FAILINGS AND NOT AT ALL BECAUSE OF THE SITUATION PILTOVIANS HAVE PUT ZAUNITES IN! XD WE THINK THIS IS ALSO A FANTASTIC THING TO TELL MENTALLY ILL PEOPLE." :)
-Jinx being the reluctant Girl Saviour of Zaun after clinging onto her identity as a jinx so she didn't have to take responsibility for Zaun should have been the completion of her arc, IMO. As far as Jinx's arc is concerned, she was meant to reject the identity of jinx that Vi gave her and embrace the identity of Jinx that Zaun gave her. Loveable and capable of doing the right thing and saving others. Using hex-tech, something Jayce and Piltover had levelled against her people, against them. And she does this to some extent, but we don't even get a hint as to why Ekko's speech worked (and how he got her to fight alongside him and the Firelights in the first place). We know she does so for Vi, but she so quickly gives up once she and her sister are back on the same team. She allies herself with her sister just to die and then fuck off to another land? BRUH! Like act 3 is SO FRUSTRATING!
Conclusion
If the focus had been on the coming war between Zaun and Piltover, then we could have better explored the internal struggles happening with Vi's and Jinx's characters. Using Isha and Vander as misery porn for Jinx was a bad move. I stand by that. Isha didn't need to die that uselessly. Jinx did not need more "trauma" for any character development (positive or negative). It's not unrealistic that Jinx would be depressed after Isha's death (and that Isha was likely meant to symbolize the constant cycle of violence), but that this sub-plot really wasn't needed given what we'd already established in Season 1.
These are where my gripes with Jinx's and Viktor's arcs in S2 really lie: the story tries to strip the political from the personal! Viktor, on waking up with the arcane in him, goes back to The Lanes, and what does he see? The cycle that Silco mentions in Jinx's hallucination in the cell. This cycle is not merely coming from the interpersonal struggle Zaunites have, but rather, the forces behind those struggles: the starvation, the lack of resources, the poverty. All caused by Piltover. Where Season 2 fails while Season 1 succeeded, is it points the camera away from Piltover as the origin of all this mess, and instead, makes it a stupid cosmic clash between chaos and order (kinda fascist ngl). Zaun lost, and Arcane Season 1 had the tits to show why those in The Lanes were always on a losing streak: Piltover. The commitment to saving Piltover instead of destroying it ruined so many arcs, most notoriously Vi's and Jinx's. This should have ended in a war between the two cities, not one where both fought against robo-people and Ambessa.
But what, instead, do the writers brandish as this solution to the cycle?
Fucking forgiveness (of those who harm and oppress you) and acceptance of your (physical) imperfections (like that's what we were apparently talking about, which no, it wasn't). By refusing to acknowledge Piltover's hand in the desperation and violence and struggle the Zaunite characters find themselves, the show inadvertently ends up excusing Piltover.
TLDR: Bad message to send to oppressed people, mentally ill people, and people dying of terminal illnesses, lmao. The Zaunites ALL LOST with this one.
And I'm going to make a Part 2 to really get into it, but from the perspective of three Piltover characters (and one Zaunite) that really prove my point: Jayce, Mel, Caitlyn and Ekko.
P.S.: It's okay if you think the show is good because it succeeds in many other things, I just think it drops the ball in the places I've mentioned. But if your main criticism of my criticisms is going to be defending your ships, please find another post. Oppression is a serious reality that deserves serious depiction and it's insulting to have such necessary political discussions devolve into dumbass ship wars.
EDIT: I honestly did not expect this post to get more than 20 likes lmao, and i must admit that this was more of a thought dump than a super-deep analysis, but i'm glad a lot of it has resonated with so many of you!
EDIT AGAIN: Here's PART 2.
#zaun#arcane#arcane season 2#jayvik#timebomb#ekkojinx#caitlyn kiramman#vi#vander#silco#jinx#ekko#isha arcane#jinx and isha#caitvi
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i am not the only one who saw that, right?
masterlist
summary: your friends find out that you secretly dating their enemy, but their opinion might completely change when they see Rafe from another point of view
words count: 2.2k
warnings: secret relationship, pogue!reader, attempted assault, mention of blood, soft and protective Rafe
a/n: inbox is open for requests💘
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“You cannot be dating Rafe fucking Cameron, Y/N!” John B exclaimed, burying his hands in his hair and walking all around the place.
“No, seriously, this is not a good idea.” Sarah looked at you, giving out a nervous laugh.
You were currently surrounded by your friends, who were all practically yelling at you after they accidentally saw a message from Rafe on your phone. You were one of the pogues; you never hanged out around the kooks, but somehow, when you were visiting Sarah a few months ago, you got into a random conversation with Rafe, and since that moment, the connection between you two has only gotten stronger.
It was an instant click and as much as you both tried to deny the spark, it was there. As you started going out, secretly from everyone, of course, you decided to keep it private until the right time.
“Alright, guys, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I knew that this would be your reaction. It just happened, okay?” You rubbed the bridge of your nose, already feeling a headache from the tense situation. All of your friends were standing on the opposite side of you and it felt like they were just attacking you.
“What were you thinking? You know that he hates people like us, like you. We are pogues, Y/N. How the hell did that even happen?” Kiara was standing with her hands on her hips, as her piercing eyes were studying you. You felt awful looking at Pope, who was the one who always supported you, but he just shook his head and stepped away.
“I don’t know. It just happened. We talked once when Sarah left, then I accidentally met him a few times in town, and then he texted me. He’s not bad when you know him closer.” You sighed. “Look, I know Rafe was a lot of trouble for us. He did bad things; I know that. But he’s not like that; he’s sweet and caring, and he has never shown any sign of being disrespectful towards me. I just can’t deny my feelings for him.”
“Honey, Rafe is not a good person. He doesn’t care about anything or anyone; he’s evil, selfish and manipulative.” Sarah stepped closer to you, touching your hand. “He’ll play with you, hurt your feelings and just throw you away.”
“And he probably just wants to get into your pants.” JJ grumbled, also taking a defensive position.
“I haven't even slept with him yet, JJ!” You desperately snapped at him. It felt ridiculous, like all of them turned against you at the same time. Sure, Rafe wasn’t the sweetest person to them before, but they didn’t even give you a chance to say something in your defense. “And you’re wrong too, Sarah. All of Rafe’s actions were just to get people’s attention and appreciation. All it took for me to get on his soft side was to just listen to him and give him some affection. Other people didn’t care enough, including you and your father. He needs someone who he can trust and open up to because he’s hurt.”
“No, Y/N. If you think that he loves you, then he just got into your head. My brother doesn’t love anyone. It will end badly; I just know that.”
Tears gathered in your eyes, and a lump in your throat made it difficult to say anything back, so you just stupidly stayed there. You had no strength to fight with all five of them at the same time. You turned around, silently getting back in the car, even though your head was filled with doubt and dark thoughts because of their words.
For the next few days, it was tough for all of you. You and the rest of the group were still close, and even though they were completely against your relationship, you still met and hung out. The pit in your heart was still there, no matter how hard you tried to act nonchalant and not let their words get into your head.
Rafe noticed the change in your behavior—that you were upset with something—but he didn’t put any pressure on you and allowed you to decide for yourself when you wanted to open up.
Pogues decided to go to some party on the cut near the beach and as much as you tried to refuse, Sarah and Kiara managed to drag you there. You all rarely went to such places, preferring to hang out in your little circle, but apparently everyone wanted to clear their heads and saw it as the best opportunity.
It was pretty fun with a bunch of people you did not know, some music, and drinks, and you mostly hung out with your friends. Though quickly it got overwhelming and made you want to go home or at least go outside of the house to get some fresh air. As you left your friends and wanted out from the backyard to a part of the beach, you didn’t notice the guy who had been eyeing you the whole evening.
He came out of nowhere from your back, his arms wrapped around your waist, lifting you off the ground. You yelled at the sudden and unwanted touch, and your heart seemed to drop into your stomach when you realised that it wasn’t just a joke from JJ, who liked to scare you. You started wiggling in his hands to get free, but he was fighting you back, dragging you up when you fell to your knees on the ground.
It was such a mess trying to scratch and punch him that you almost did not notice his hand coming into contact with your face several times. You screamed again, this time loud enough, until you saw JJ running towards you. The guy behind you pushed you away as soon as he saw someone, and you fell to the ground with a loud huff.
“That fucking bastard!” JJ was right near you, helping you to get up as tears streamed down your face. He tried to comfort you, checking your body for any injuries, but you pushed his hands away, wrapping your own around yourself in a defensive way.
“Oh my god, Y/N!” You heard Kiara, along with your other friends, calling your name. “What the hell happened?”
“H-he attacked me.” You sniffed, trying to catch your breath and, with shaking hands, reaching to the pocket of your jeans shorts to get out your phone. All of them looked at each other, questioning your actions, until you pressed someone’s contact button and put the phone to your ear. “Can y-you pick me up, p-please?” You sniffed again, now trembling from the adrenaline.
“Baby? Are you crying? Where are you?” You heard your boyfriend’s concerned voice through the phone, feeling how JJ tensed beside you.
“I’m on the cut. Near the beach. There’s a party and... Please, Rafe.”
“I’m coming, angel. Just wait for me, ‘kay?” You heard the sound of the car engine at the other end of the line. Rafe didn’t ask any more questions, and as soon as you mumbled quiet 'mhm’ he ended the call.
You all heard him before you saw him. The sound of the tires drifting through the sandy street was loud, drawing attention to the expensive car that was unusual to see at this part of the island.
Rafe didn’t bother to properly park, turn off the engine or even close the door when he saw you sitting on some old chaise lounge, with his sister and Kie trying to talk to you and your other friends arguing nearby.
The girls stepped away from you as soon as they saw Rafe running towards you with a furious expression on his face and ready to deal with anyone who made you cry. It looked like he didn’t even care about the pogues, with whom he always had to get into arguments; he was fully focused on your shivering form.
“Baby, what’s wrong? What happened?” He squatted down in front of you, and you started sobbing again. Your hands immediately found their place around his neck, and, before he could even properly look at your face, you pulled him closer to get some sense of comfort from his warmth and smell. Rafe hugged you back, soothingly rubbing your back. His eyes shot towards your friends, who were watching in awe at the interaction. “Which one of you did that?”
“It’s not us, you idiot. Some guy jumped her when she walked outside.” Sarah said, rolling her eyes at her brother. “JJ heard screaming, and when we walked outside, he ran away.” Rafe pulled away, finally taking in your appearance.
Your knees were covered in dried blood mixed with the sand. He gently took your hands to see the palms scratched from you trying to catch yourself before hitting the ground. Rafe’s eyes were burning with fury, showing his side that he rarely revealed in front of you. His hand reached to move your hair from your face, noticing a red, now already turning purplish, bruise covering the side of your cheek.
“Holy shit, sweetheart.” He softly brushed his fingertips along your cheek and you leaned into the touch, closing your eyes. Your bottom lip started quivering and you bit inside your cheek to calm yourself down. “Sh-h im here, okay? You’re safe. Did you see him? What did he look like? Just tell me and I’ll deal with it.” He almost begged, but you only shook your head. JJ suddenly stepped closer, slightly hesitating to actually normally communicate with his longtime enemy, but he thought that it was the least that he could do for you.
As much as he hated The Kooks King, JJ knew that Rafe was the best option to find the guy who hurt you.
“Tall, with dark and curly hair. Never seen him before, probably someone new on the island, but I’ll recognize him.” They looked at each other for a moment, and Rafe just simply nodded, turning his attention back to you.
“I’ll find him, ‘kay? I promise I will.” He gently took both of your hands in his, bringing them to his lips to place a soft kiss on your knuckles. “We should go now. I need to take care of your knees and that bruise, baby. You don’t mind going to Tanneyhill, yeah?”
“Thank you, Rafe.” You whispered, slightly bending forward to ask for a kiss. Rafe smiled at you, his thumbs gently swiped the leftovers of the tears under your eyes, and then he kissed you on your forehead, nose, and gently pecked your lips.
Your heart flattered at his soft touches and for a second, it felt like you two were in your own little bubble. Rafe's eyes shimmered slightly in the moonlight, and the way he looked at you, soft and caring, made you want to kiss him again and again. You suddenly snapped out of the trance, looking back at your friends, who all had different levels of shock and uncertainty written on their faces.
“C’mon, pretty girl.” Rafe stood up, lifting you in bridal style without an effort, carefully not to hurt your bleeding knees. He almost walked away, but then sighed, turning back to look at his sister. “You coming home with us or somethin’?”
“Um, no, I’ll be with John B. It seems like I would be third wheeling with you anyway.” She shrugged, not being able to keep a smile when you two met with your eyes.
Rafe then looked at JJ, thinking his words over. “I appreciate it, Maybank.”
They exchanged a tight nod, both slightly shocked that for the first time ever, they communicated without biting each other's heads off. You leaned closer to Rafe, comfortably nestling in his protective hands, and looked at your friends, who were still too shocked to say anything.
“I’ll see you guys later, okay?
Everyone agreed, saying goodbye to you and asking you to text them when you get there safely. They saw how Rafe made sure to slowly put you into the passenger seat, then circled the car and drove away. An awkward silence fell around them, everyone at a loss for words.
“Okay, so I am not the only one who saw that, right?” Pope spoke first, looking around the place as if he were trying to find something. “Rafe freaking Cameron just was acting cute and didn’t threaten to do something to us?” His own body physically shrugged at the word ‘cute’.
“I don’t know, dude. We all just probably drank something and it’s messing with our heads.”
#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe x reader#rafe x you#rafe imagine#rafe cameron#rafe fanfiction#obx rafe cameron#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x y/n
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solstice
ao3 ⋆ main masterlist
pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: smut (PiV), competency kink, grumpy/sunshine, he falls first, yearning, angst, almost enemies to lovers, Tommy being a little shit, no use of y/n, Jackson!Joel word count: 4k summary: Three little words. Joel heard those same three words damn near every day for the last seven months. Most days, they were the only words you said to him. Sometimes, if he was lucky, you'd say them more than once. Other days, you didn't say anything to him at all. He liked those days least of all.
A/N: happy holidays @trulybetty! thank you for being so lovely about this being a little late. I was only going to go for one or two of your prompts for the @pedrostories secret santa, but then my brain went why not all of them, and now here we are.
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Three little words.
"I got it."
Joel heard those same three words damn near every day for the last seven months. Most days, they were the only words you said to him. Sometimes, if he was lucky, you'd say them more than once. Other days, you didn't say anything to him at all. He liked those days the least.
You said other things too, of course. He heard you speak to other people. Not always nicely, but he heard you. You said more to him on occasion too. Out my way or put it down were some particular favorites, but none said more so than those three, tiny, little words.
I got it.
Because you did. He had never met a woman who had got it more than you. Strong, capable, and everything he ever tried to be. He watched every day how you'd got it. Climbing up ladders with tiles stacked on your shoulder, hauling wheelbarrows full of gravel, chopping wood in bitter wind and cold. You had it, and he watched, wanting it too.
The only problem was, he wasn't too sure what it was.
To begin with, it was the respect you commanded that he yearned for. He had that, once. Not here. Fuck, never here. The people here would barely look at him for the first few weeks. But you? They listened to you. If you said move they listened, even if it was with a roll of their eyes. If you told someone to fuck off to medical, they went without a grumble. They trusted you. Even if you weren't particularly generous with your smiles.
You were the exact opposite of what Joel was finding he had to be.
In Boston, people feared him, and that kept him, and Tess, safe. It was for the best. The people here feared him too, at first. Maybe even still now, if he was to be honest with himself, but he'd worked hard to change that. He met the mumbled good mornings with as much of a smile as he could muster. He went for drinks with his brother, made small talk with the locals even when he didn't want to. He tried to get into Maria's good graces, but never quite succeeded.
And he worked. With you mostly. Jackson didn't have much use for hired muscle or someone who could smuggle shit discreetly - not outside of the daily patrol shifts they wouldn't let him on yet, anyway - but they did have use for contractors. Plumbers, electricians, carpenters, anyone who was good at doing shit with their hands. Those were things that had value behind these walls and, luckily for him, that meant he had value too. For the first time in a long time, he meant something to people.
Just not to you.
As much as he smiled, and made small talk, and helped out fixing shit in this place that was now his home, he could never get through to you. He'd try to help you out, only to be knocked aside - sometimes literally. You barely looked at him. Spoke only when necessary. Once, you'd even told him to fuck off.
He did.
At first he took it all personally. He moped, and kept his sour mood hidden from his brother and Ellie. Then, he saw how you were with, well, just about everyone else, and that lessened the sting.
But, as time wore on, Joel saw other things too. Where at first you'd seemed rude and abrasive, he now saw the kindness and compassion you treated everyone with. If you told someone to go the fuck home, it wasn't because you wanted them gone it was because you wanted them rested. If you let people struggle, strike their thumbs with a badly aimed hit of a hammer, it was to help them learn. You never did let anyone make the same mistake twice. And, because of you, no one did.
It was with the waning of spring that his desire to be you changed into something different and entirely more confusing.
As the gardens and trees exploded in the frenzy of summer, you shed your layers. Literally, not figuratively. You still stayed firmly closed up as your jacket disappeared and made way for a shirt hung loosely about your shoulders. Then, even that found its way around your waist and Joel had to come face to face with the bare, strong expanse of your back while you worked in nothing but a tank top, the patch of sweat at the small of your back blooming while he watched.
It was for the best that he didn't think about what you looked like walking towards him during those relentlessly hot months, with nothing but a thin tank top pulled across your chest. It wasn't something he should think about in public, anyway. It was something he kept for late at night, when those three little words echoed around his head and you showed him just how much you really, truly got it.
By October, Tommy had caught on. Your jacket was fastened back around you, and you were as hostile as ever. You breezed past him one morning, hooking a ladder over one shoulder, toolbag gripped in your other hand.
"I got it."
By now, Joel knew you did.
By now, he wanted to come with you anyway.
So he did, grabbing his own set of salvaged tools and heading up to the latest reno with you, only to have you square up to him the second you saw him.
"I said, I got it."
Five words. It was a good day.
So good, that he couldn't keep his eyes off you in the Tipsy Bison that night. You weren't in here often - from what he could tell, you didn't do much outside of work - but the people who shared your company seemed to enjoy it. You sat soft and quiet in the corner, listening in to their conversation more often than you contributed. But, when you did, they laughed, and Joel caught himself smiling, and Tommy caught him too.
"Never thought you'd be more of a ray of fuckin' sunshine than anyone else, but there's a first for everythin', I guess," he'd said, tilting his glass to the table in the corner where you sat.
Joel took a swig of the last fresh cider of the season and shrugged.
"You got an eye for her."
He sputtered, choking on the tart, sweet liquid. "No I ain't."
"Well you got somethin'," said Tommy, clinking his glass against Joel's own. "If it ain't an eye it's your-"
A harsh kick, and a grunt loud enough to turn every head in the bar later, and Tommy dropped it entirely.
For about a week.
Tommy ribbed him at dinner, drinks, lunch and just about every time in between. Called Joel 'Sunshine' even as he scowled. Asked about his girl as if you were anything other than a person who hated him. Slung his arm around Joel's shoulder and told him all about the birds and the bees, as if he'd ever forgotten.
He couldn't forget. Not with you running around barking at him and keeping him in a seemingly permanent state of arousal. If it wasn't your voice and that angry way you talked at him, it was just about anything else. He couldn't escape it.
It was how you did everything he could do, and more. What he had in strength, you had in technique. Your hands - fuck, did he watch your hands - were rarely unblemished with dirt or scrapes, but they were adept at everything you put them to. He couldn't look away, even if he knew each minute he looked was a minute quicker he'd be when he touched himself to the thought of you later that night.
The taunts stopped with the first snowfall.
"If you're really that interested, should talk to her," Tommy said instead. "Bark's worse than her bite."
"You're still sayin' she bites, though."
"Sure she would if you asked nice enough, brother."
Joel didn't ask.
He didn't ask the morning he woke up early to see the town blanketed in thick snow either. He simply went out, picked up a snow shovel and began working until the sun came up. He didn't expect to find you at his door that evening, or for you to grab him and throw him outside, pushing him up against the side of his own house.
"What do you think you're playing at, Miller?" you growled up at him, pushing him firmly against the siding.
Joel stared, dumb-founded, your hands curled in the front of his shirt - touching him - and blinked down at you.
"I don't give a shit who you are or what you've done out there. I am not scared of you and I am not having you take my job."
You ignored him more after that. Days went by with barely a word to him - not even a scowl thrown his way if he made too much noise or offered to help someone out on a job.
As for him, he couldn't stop thinking about it. Every day for weeks that night played through his head, memory of the feel of your hands on his chest and your face so close he could feel your breath, until Christmas was on the horizon and a pit of fear began stirring in his stomach. You were a balm to it, somehow. Something to focus on when the fear got too much and kept him inside, away from the crowds of happy people.
Every single I got it was more of a comfort than the last. It could have been the familiarity of it, or the way those words came softer and softer as the season wore on. Sometimes he'd head by the workshop to ask if you needed a hand, just to hear that soft rejection one more time.
Until late one cold afternoon, it didn't come. You were alone, blowing warm air onto gloved hands, and when he asked you simply nodded, and he followed.
You worked together in silence until the sun set, when you turned to him as you parted ways.
"S'hard this time of year, but joy and grief can exist at the same time, y'know."
He didn't go to the Bison that night. Or the next. He let the grief crack open his chest instead, and let it pour out over his bedroom floor for two whole days.
On the third, he let the joy back in. Ellie reeled off new jokes from a book she found in the Jackson library. He held his nephew and rocked the teething babe to sleep. He went back to the Bison - you weren't there - and celebrated the impending holiday.
Seven months, three days, and about as many hourssince he stepped foot back in Jackson. Damn near every day he's heard those three little words, and he'll be damned if he goes another without them.
With the day as short as it could ever be, the sun tracking low in the sky, he finds you.
"I got it," you say softly, when he asks you that very same question he always does.
"I know."
He doesn't know how your lips end up on his - because it is you who kisses him. He doesn't know how his fingers find themselves under your shirt either, the coldness of them making you gasp into his mouth until you're pulling apart, both wide eyed.
He does know you taste like fruit, even in the dead of winter. He always suspected it - knew your sweet tooth by the berries you couldn't resist and the sweet treats gifted to you. He knows your fingers are as cold as his when you hand him a shovel.
He does know, even though you got it, you let him help anyway.
You clear streets and roofs of snow together until the sun goes down. He follows at your heel in the dark, cold biting through your layers as you both stomp the snow off your boots, shovels thrown down, workshop locked up. You barely even look at each other until you're staring through the fog of your own heavy breaths on Joel's front porch. He doesn't know how to welcome you in - he never was too good with words - so he simply unlocks the door and pushes it open.
You step inside.
Layers are shed before the door even closes. Heavy coats dumped on the couch, boots toed off and left this way and that. The hat on your head stuffed in a pocket - he can't remember which.
You move upstairs - worked on this house, you say - and pull him into his own bedroom before his lips even touch yours again. But when they do, they do. Joel's frantic with it, feeling the softness of you so close to the hardness of him. His hands hold your waist, rooting you to him, but then you're moving them up and under your shirt to the flair of your ribcage. The curve of your breasts fit perfectly against the cradle of his thumb and forefinger, and he thinks of everything his hands have done, this is what they were made for.
It must be. When you whine at the feel of this thumb stroking across your pebbled nipple, he thinks for the first time in a long time that maybe his hands aren't so monstrous if they can pull such pretty noises from you.
In fact, the things they've done don't seem to matter at all when he gets to touch you, to pull sounds from you so sweet he'll be tasting you on his tongue all over again just from the memory of them. For all the harm these hands have done, they could never hurt you. You would never let them. You'd tear him apart first.
And he'd let you.
You swallow his groan when you palm his length over his jeans. He stiffens beneath your touch, warm and firm, and grinds into your hand. It's been so long since he's felt the touch of anyone other than himself. He could come just grinding himself against the firm press of your hand against him, if he thought about it too hard.
So he doesn't. He focuses instead on the soft plink plink plink as you run a nail up his ice cold zipper, the way you bite his lip, tangle your fingers in his hair.
He tries to take off his own belt, cold fingers fumbling against even colder metal, but you mumble I got it into his mouth, and his knees quiver.
You do. You always do.
His belt is pulled off and you're tugging him by the loops of his pants and pushing him against his own bed, the sheets still rumpled from the morning. You slip off your own and toss it to the side too, tangling it with his on his bedroom floor. Then, you're so very close to him again, his thigh between your legs as you nip and suckle on his bottom lip. He holds you close - one hand finding its way under your shirt again, cupping your breast fully this time, and the other pulling you firmly against his strong thigh.
You warm his thigh with the burning heat between your legs, grinding yourself against him, the seam of your jeans pulling tight against you. Moans you were pulling from him a moment ago are silenced by your own, your nails digging crescents into his arm as you burrow your face into his neck in an attempt to stifle them.
You're better than he ever dreamed. Softer. Warmer. Stronger. The sounds you make so much prettier than he ever thought. Those three little words so much sweeter within these walls than any other.
Even when you strip off layer after layer, it's better than he dreamed. Summer was barely a taste of you, he realises, when your shirt, your tank, your soft bra, all tumble to the floor and you climb onto the bed behind him.
You kick your jeans off, and he pulls his down too. He can't get his shirt off quick enough, the scars on his body forgotten as he strips bare for you as you watch, lust barely turning to curiousity as you take in the sight of his body.
"Come here," you tell him, and he obeys. You're softer with him when he lies beside you then. Grasping hands turn to gentle strokes, his own hands on your bare flesh mimicking your gentle movements across his skin.
When your hand trails down to his cock, squeezing once again when you feel him throb in your palm, he has to pinch his eyes closed and pretend he's anywhere but here.
"Been a long time," he says through gritted teeth. "Long, long time."
Me too, he thinks he hears you whisper before your lips latch to his again and his soft, worn boxers are slipped down his legs, kicked to the side, forgotten.
You don't look at him, and for that he's grateful. He's less grateful when you start to play with your own nipples and toy with the edge of your panties. He presses a kiss to your shoulder instead, hiding his face against you and breathing you in.
When he opens his eyes again, your panties are off, thighs spread, one hooked lazily over his own, the other stretched out on his sheets.
"Don't have to," you mumble, when he looks down at you, stunned look obvious on his face.
"I want to."
He touches you and you let him. His hands run all over your body, rough, calloused palms dragging across your soft belly, your hips, your thighs. He's dreamed of this, and still it's better than his wildest fantasies.
When your hand wraps around his bare cock, pumping his length once, twice, he thinks that's better than any fantasy too. You practically drag him by the cock, tugging gently to pull him towards you until he's kneeling between your thighs. You lazily stroke him, swiping precum across his tip and making him jerk in your grip. His own hands play with your thighs, massaging and squeezing them, drawing his fingers closer and closer to your apex.
Seven months, three days, and twenty-something hours since he stepped back into Jackson, he slips into you for the first time.
And, fuck, is it divine.
You're slick, and wet, his cock gliding across your skin before he pushes into you, and you both gasp.
He's slow. He trembles. His fingers make dents in your thighs as he grips them. You shuffle your hips, make yourself comfortable, and he holds steady while you adjust to the intrusion. Then, you pull him in, grabbing him by the neck to steal a kiss while he makes space for himself deep inside you, rocking each tentative inch into you until he's rooted inside.
You adjust - let the tenseness in your core release - and he barely holds on. And, just when he thinks he's got a hold of himself and begins fucking you in slow, languid movements, your hand moves and you say those three little words.
"I got it."
For the first ever time, he stops you. His hand pins yours to your hip, his movements stilling as you frown up at him, a threat on the tip of your tongue. So, he begs.
"Let me. Please."
And you do. He slowly swipes a spit slicked thumb against your clit, and watches as you melt into his sheets. By the look of you, the pure relief on your face, he thinks this could be the first time you've ever truly let go, and his ego soars.
It soars again when your legs tremble, rocking his thick cock in you as his thumb works slowly over your clit. You moan his name, and he groans too. He can't keep it back. It's the first time he's ever heard you say it, and he doesn't think it could sound better. Your eyes find his when you say his name again, testing him, only to pull another groan deep from his chest.
A small nod is all you give him as a sign you want more. His thumb moves quicker, popped into his mouth to taste you just for a moment before it swipes around your cunt where you grip him, and back up to your clit.
You come on him, face turned into his sheets, brow furrowed, mouth open as you moan and shake, trembling and pulsating on his cock as you come.
For you, he keeps going. Let's you ride out the waves, fluttering against him, as he barely holds back from the brink himself.
If this is all he gets - if you push him off and walk away now - it would be a good day, he thinks. But you don't. He doesn't even get chance to ask if you want him gone when you're pulling him down, kissing him, rocking your hips against him and murmuring against his throat for him to fuck you.
So, he does.
It feels sloppy, and awkward, his hips not quite knowing how to move any more as he snaps them against yours.
"Don't stop," you whisper to him with a scrape of your teeth against his shoulder. "Don't stop."
He's never been able to disobey you, he realizes. He's never had reason let alone want to. Even now, he does as he's told, keeps fucking forward into you, mattress squeaking and bed rocking as he finally, finally, finds his rhythm.
It's easy then. You spur him on, grip him tight, wrap your legs around his waist. He grunts, growls, can barely stop himself from panting, looking down at you and how you stare back at him and he thinks fuck, this is what it's like to be trusted by you.
With a sudden gasp, he pulls out, slipping from your wet heat to rut against your sopping cunt until he's spurting ropes of come against your mound and belly.
He apologizes, tries to admonish himself for being so quick. You tell him to shut up, hitting his shoulder. He does.
You both sigh in the afterglow. Even in the before, he never had times like this, he doesn't think. It was always frantic, too quick, too drunk, too fumbling. In the after, he could never quite relax enough to enjoy it fully. In the now, it's just about the best he's ever had.
You're still covered in him. Your fingers play idly in it on your belly, and he glows. He'd trace patterns with it over your skin, if only you'd let him. But then, you're up and gone, and he fears you're gone for good until you waltz back in and throw yourself next to him, mess cleaned from your skin as you stretch and yawn beside him.
"I aint tryin' to take your job, y'know," Joel tells you some time later, when the afterglow wanes and sleep pulls at him.
"Right."
He looks to you, the roll of your eyes and tug of a disbelieving smile on your lips visible in the glow of the bedside lamp.
"I promise. I'm just tryin' to... be some place."
You're still. And silent. He thinks he's fucked up for all of one second, until you're smiling sadly up at the ceiling.
"I get that," you say softly. "This is a nice place to be, all things considered."
And, though he thinks he knows what you mean, Yes, he thinks, this is a nice place to be.
This is a good day.
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im a white jew, i was born in israel,
ive lived there all my life and was brought up in an environment that fosters racism driven by nationalism, nationalism driven by racism.
in israel, they teach you jews and muslims (though usually, they just say arabs) have always been enemies, the same way the US deems the entire middle east as a inherent war zone, ridding them of the responsibility for perpetuating war in thst region.
they tell you "were the fair and humane side who strives for peace! its the arabs who never accept the offer!"
i remember the first time i began doubting that sentiment was in fourth grade, when we were having a discussion in class about the character of Saul from the Torah. the teacher was talking about how Saul, the first monarch of the Kingdom of Israel, used to fight the Philistines, and when she added that the Philistines were the natural enemy of the Israelites, she asked the class what group of people is their modern equivalent to which everyone very eagerly replied "Arabs!" and nevermind that there in that same class sat two arab boys, one of whom sat next to me, who i looked at and thought "but he isnt my enemy? hes just a boy in my class."
they teach you to hate arabs. sometimes they say it outright. sometimes they say it more carefully, or make a distinction between good and bad arabs, those who are with us and those who are against us.
in a state based on the idea of (white) jewish supremacy, they teach you jews are naturally superior. they use the conspiratorial narrative of "jews controlling the world" to their favor, giving their own watered down explanation for why antisemitism exists, saying that it must be driven by jealousy.
the zionist movement always used antisemitism to its advantage, either for reinforcing the notion of jewish supremacy or appealing to the real pain and trauma of generations, people who survived the holocaust, connecting them to stolen land where they are "guaranteed" safety ergo granting "justification" for the suffering of others.
its using peoples real pain that makes fear mongering so effective, and when the israeli population grows up being told all of their neighboring countries want to kill them, they quickly get defensive of the "only land where they can feel safe", but the only explanation ever provided for Why these neighboring countries are considered enemies is because theyre arabs.
and when it comes to palestine, it isnt even recognized as a country, nor identity. just a threat. ive talked to many people who are genuinely unaware of the occupation, and they arent willing to believe it either, because the media narrative has successfully shifted the blame on hamas. because "how could it be us? we want peace! its the terrorists who make us look bad! and their children, they grow up to be antisemites*, might as well get rid of them too!" they never stop to think what environment these children must grow up in to develop these "radical" ideas.
* what they mean by antisemite is really just antizionist, but the term anti/zionist isnt practiced in local dialect, being a zionist is treated as a given
any jew who stands against israels oppression is dubbed a self hating jew, but the biggest contributors to antisemitism is the people in charge of an ethnostate, because at any moment they could decide who is not white enough to be jewish, who is too jewish to be white, who stood against the current coalition government and who is an obedient dog.
israelis arent a monolith, but many of them have been won over, convinced its an "us v them" situation, when in reality it could never be the "us" that "loses"
the israeli government was waiting for an event like the massacre on the seventh of october to declare war, to have the so called "right to defend itself", so they could initiate the final steps of an ethnic genocide and displace, if not kill, all remaining palestinians. under the guise of bringing peace.
it isnt too late to call for a permanent ceasefire, to end the occupation.
please contact your representatives, attend protests and rallies if you are able. palestine will be free, and the flowers will rise again.
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