#she meant that in a very literal way. like there was some magical binding.

[gayrui]

Man I’m not a solavellan but saying the solavellan ending is bad cause lavellan gives up everything for solas is. A choice. cause like not only is the ending something you have to very actively choose to do and work toward but depending on how you played inquisition she might not actually be giving up that much.

[women-of-malevolent]

Malevolent Season 1: Women Roundup

Emily MacFarland - murdered offscreen before story starts by John's becoming/birth/whatever

Shub-N - died offscreen before story starts (only revealed in Part 40.5). Her full name is very bad and I think it should be edited to be anything else. I noodled around came up with Shub-Inanis or Shub-Inanith, from the Latin word for void. You could check out other etymologies too, and other words relating to void, eternity, absence, blankness. You could also use a different god from the Lovecraft pantheon, like Cthulhu.

Amanda "Sarah" Cummings PART1 PART2 PART3 PART4 - yes she's named, she's named Sarah and the story usually calls her Amanda even after John and Arthur learn she went by Sarah. Murdered offscreen in Part 5 after Arthur tells the King in Yellow the name Amanda Cummings. Also she went by Sarah but is called Amanda in almost every instance someone refers to her. She is referenced a LOT.

Delphine Cummings - murdered offscreen before story starts; literally stuffed in a fridge in a basement

Unnamed Dead Woman In The Woods - murdered offscreen; the story seems to have forgotten about her by the next episode

Unnamed Cultist Witch - still alive! She gives Arthur a baby that's covered in eldritch sigil drawings. She may have killed the unnamed dead woman and stolen her baby, then gives Arthur that baby.

Unnamed Baby - still alive, Arthur took her from the crone and then anonymously gave her to the first random woman he saw because he and John deduced that she was its mother based on: she's here, she's crying, and she's talking to police.

❓ Anna Stanczyk - I don't know! I'm pretty sure she was murdered offscreen and we find it out at some bullshit point like Part 30 or something. She seems cool and her family seems interesting

Mother Stanczyk - unnamed, undead, mostly characterized by her supernatural attachment to babies + John and Arthur use magic on her wheelchair to bind her soul and convert her into an extra-life fairy-in-a-bottle.

Unnamed Crying Woman In Diner - still alive. Arthur assumes she's the mother of the baby because why else would she be crying?

Kellin's sister - dead, probably murdered, before the story starts. Arthur takes a tooth out of her rotting, decapitated head because her corpse contains a magical doohickey that he can use. At this point, the tooth is now in his pocket and sometimes whispers hints at him, like when it mispronounces Anna Stanczyk's name to confirm that the Anna in Sarah's letter was Anna Stanczyk.

Kellin's mother - dead, probably murdered, before the story starts.

Unnamed Nurse (Lilly) - alive but unnamed until Season 2. Her kindness in her working role as nurse made John rethink his King in Yellow ways

Unnamed Waitress - alive! She serves Arthur food

Faroe Lester PART1 PART2- dead offscreen before the story starts. She was Arthur's young daughter who died at toddler age before she could really speak.

Unnamed Elderly Woman - alive, presumably. She seems unwell. Arthur and John break into her home when they hear her retching. They are terrified of her and believe she is mind-controlled by the King in Yellow.

Unnamed Widow PART1 PART2 - dead, murdered by Arthur. John and Arthur break into her home, look through her stuff, and then brain her to death with a rock. She was probably bad news, and may have been a ghoul monster who meant to kill them, maybe.

[dsknsk]

A lot of people feel, including me, like Mabayu doesn't seem to fit within the main Holy Quintet. In this post I'm going to try and explain what I think are the reasons behind that.

I'm putting aside the fact that she was designed later, because that's something that's rather obvious. I'm looking at the stuff under the hood now, and I think the main cause is this:

The Holy Quintet by itself already forms a clear and concise group design-wise.

The Holy Quintet is an expertly designed group, because they still maintain their sense of individuality when viewed alone. Remember, the first instance that had all of these five work together on the big screen was Rebellion, not even the main series. This meant that a lot of the time, we were seeing these five girls on their own, not as a group. And yet their designs also work well when viewed as a group.

Each girl has a certain set theme and a certain color that their costume heavily features. Their designs do a good job of conveying their personality, since it is heavily implied that in this universe, one's own magical outfit is basically what you think you'd look badass in.

Madoka herself incorporates elements of the traditional magical girl and fairy themes, and her main color is pink. Despite that, she also incorporates flowers (i.e red rose on her bow, because deep red roses were often symbolic of the wounds of Christ, and the cherry blossom on her skirt because of her death/rebirth symbolism) in her design in a much more subtle manner. Her weapon being a bow and arrow meanwhile points towards her tendency to see herself as plain (as a bow and arrow tend to be plain weapons) and at the same time, her determination that works behind the scenes. In the end, Madoka's outfit shows her personality that's kind, gentle, but still very determined and knowing what she wants in the end.

Sayaka's outfit balances themes of girly romance, music, and the knight in shining armor, and her main color is blue. Out of everyone in the Quintet, her outfit shows the most skin. I believe that this is on purpose for multiple reasons - one being that her wish was intended to be a step on her journey to receive the love of a boy. That aside, while she has a knight theme (with a heroic cape and all), she's also still very fond of things like love and music, so some sense of stereotypical girliness is also translated into the ruffles and the collar. Her weapon is of course a cutlass, one that wouldn't be out of place within a pirate setting, and one that hints at the stereotype of the hero always being the one with the sword. Sayaka's outfit, when everything comes together, conveys the image of someone with heroic ideals driven by their ideas of love and romance.

Mami's outfit has themes of the German dirndl and the huntress, while also at the same time being her image of a proper lady, and her main color is yellow. It's not the screaming, fluorescent kind of yellow, but the soothing, soft yellow we often associate flowers with. That said, she also has flower themes to encapsulate her 'proper lady' image. (That's also why she has those ojou ringlets - it's what a girl's idea of a fancy lady would look like, and Mami's whole thing is that she's a young teen who has a facade of maturity). Her rifles are typically single-shot and her ribbons bind, tie herself and others to the life of a Puella Magi, something that really has no reward. Also, because ribbons typically wrap gifts, and she thought she was getting a gift when wishing. Mami's outfit displays that sense of maturity she wants others to see, and the effectiveness of a marksman who never misses (hey...).

Kyouko's outfit incorporates both pirate-y elements and hints to her religious background, and her main color is red. I mean, the symbol of her father's church is literally what holds her Soul Gem in it. Aside from that, Kyouko's outfit is by far the simplest so to say, but there's clearly gone thought in it. The way it flares out at the bottom allows for both the only ruffles she has to show and prevents the coat from being too long so that she can still move freely in it. Her own weapon being a spear gives her great flexibility (as it allows one to fight while still keeping a distance from your opponent) and her personal magic being confusion (cloning is a good way to confuse others) with some added barriers stems from her wish. The entire package translates to an outlaw image, from someone who does what they want regardless of what others may think, but at the same time also hints to their hidden trauma.

Homura, finally, is a very curious example of a school uniform with dull, mourning colors, a very subtle theme of time and a main color that's purple. Her own outfit isn't all that different from her school uniform, hinting at that school was the only place where she formed a meaningful connection, and its dull colors much reflect the mourning situation she was in when she made her wish. It conveys this sense of cold calmness that surrounds her for much of the main series, including her shield. A shield can be used to protect oneself and or others, and one can say that her main aim is to protect someone else, rendering herself useless when that goal is gone. She has also protected, hidden much of herself away in that entire process.

And then I look at Mabayu.

(edit is in the other post on my blog by the way).

This outfit conveys one thing: movies! What else? Movies! What's her personality? That she's a cinephile, of course!

Color-wise, her outfit's main color is purple, and her Soul Gem and eyes are too (indicating that that's what her main color is supposed to be), but her hair is bright green with a yellowish tint. In my personal opinion, green and purple don't tend to fit well with eachother. I'm not sure what it is, but...it's not good on my eyes. It also happened with the collaboration Senjougahara. I'm not immediately saying that her hair should be purple, as I'm not too fond of the hair's design having to fit within her movie theme either, as I doubt it'd bring a meaningful change, but it being this yellowy green color doesn't work for me. It's just a part of a whole that doesn't exactly click in my head. None of the other five girls had their hair clash with their main color, which is I think one of the reasons Mabayu sticks out.

Fanservice is another element that I want to mention. None of the main five have a cut like this in their skirts, and while Sayaka is the one showing the most skin, I believe that the way her outfit shows skin has a purpose within the whole of it. Mabayu's skirt cuts like this:

Which is. A thing.

That aside...we don't really know much about this girl aside from that she loves movies (golly gee who'd have guessed) yet. The Holy Quintet have established personalities that we've got to know and love for years now. Mabayu is a newcomer from we are supposed to believe that she was somehow the missing puzzle piece. The missing puzzle piece that was never mentioned anywhere in any kind of media work before, never present in any kind of history we've been shown like The Different Story, or anywhere hinted towards even existing. We have to believe that she was somehow cut away from it. The role she originally played in all of this? I don't know. My best guess is that the way she cuts things with her weapon and the way her stupid skirt is cut hints at her being cut out, but that's a weak connection in itself.

Speaking of her weapon...all five girls use traditional, old-fashioned weapons. Mabayu uses a cut-in-half scissor that is normally used to cut movie reels with, repurposed as a weapon. It being cut in half is I think also meant to convey that she was somehow 'cut' from the Holy Quintet. Which I still have a hard time believing. It's like an idea a particularly wannabe fan would come up with, by inserting their own OC into the main gang.

And I'm not quite sold on the idea of her being the OG Witch that became Walpy. Yet. Partially because I think that the OG magical girl behind Walpy deserves a better design.

[five-rivers]

Wings

Good people grew wings.

How wings grew, why they grew, and the exact criteria for being a good person, were unclear. Science had discovered many things over the years, but human wings remained a mystery and the closest thing to real magic the average person would ever know about. Even so, this one point, that you had to be good to grow wings, was agreed upon by virtually everyone.

You had to be good.

Saintlike, even. Literally. If a person had wings, even teeny tiny ones, and was even vaguely Catholic, they were almost certain to be sainted shortly after their death.

This was why Danny was sure there had to be some kind of mistake. That this had to be a prank. Or a trick. Or even the result of some weird ghost power Danny didn’t know about.

Not that he thought he was a bad person. He tried his best! But he was well aware of his many, many flaws. Some might say that was the first step to working on them, except… He did not do that.

Which was yet another sign that the small, downy lumps growing very painfully out his back couldn’t be real.

He didn’t deserve this.

(A sentiment he meant in many ways. Primarily the obvious one, but he also didn’t want to have to deal with two new limbs on top of everything else in his life.)

(Like, he’d just gotten used to having a tail, and the tail wasn’t a permanent addition. Or even an addition, really. It was more of an exchange. Two legs for one tail.)

He inhaled shakily and turned away from the mirror. His face was pale and drawn. Dark circles were painted under his eyes. Slightly pink scars from the fight with Skulker last night stood out on his skin. They’d fade in a few days.

Hopefully, so would the little bumps on his back. If not…

His knuckles went white on the counter. At some points in history, it had been dangerous to have wings grow in out of nowhere. People would wonder why. And if that why wasn’t compatible with what the local government wanted, if what they were doing was good but illegal, well… But the point was, some people had taken rather extreme measures to avoid being caught.

Like cutting off their wings.

Nausea rose in Danny’s throat at the notion of cutting off any part of his body. He could do it. He had access to enough sharp things and had a high enough pain tolerance. Plus, he could turn certain body parts intangible, to get a better angle on—

He turned to the toilet and threw up.

The article he’d read on the internet had said that, sometimes, wings growing in disrupted the other functions of the body. Hormonal imbalance.

Wings might be magic. This experience? Not so much.

Then, when did radical changes to his person ever happen painlessly for him? The Accident, the Accident Remix, his ice powers, puberty in general…

Yeah.

He shuddered and reached for the lever.

Maybe they’d be small. Size depended on how good you were. At least, that was the prevailing theory. Since he shouldn’t have his at all, they should be small. Tiny. Hopefully. Hidable. Something he could keep under his shirt. Something no one would notice. Something that wouldn’t be investigated, wouldn’t be questioned.

Oh, god, what if they showed up on Phantom as well? That would be a nightmare. Most ghost hunters and occultists didn’t even think ghosts had feelings. One showing up with wings would make them furious. They’d be convinced that he was faking. That he was trying to capitalize on how people thought of wings to make himself look better.

Oh, geez, and that wasn’t even getting into how they’d interact with his suit, which repaired any damage done to it every time he transformed.

He shifted, rings sparking over him, and reached around his ribs to touch his back. Which still had two very sensitive lumps.

.

“Danny,” said Jazz, sitting on the edge of her bed and steepling her hands, “how many times have you saved Amity Park?”

Danny frowned. “What does that have to do with anything?”

She pressed her fingers to her lips. “Okay. How about how many times you’ve saved the planet?”

Danny shrugged.

“Don’t you think that might, I don’t know, contribute to the present situation?”

“That’s—I don’t—Jazz, I live here. Of course, I’m going to protect the place I live.” He started pacing back and forth.

Jazz stared up at him. “Are you sure that’s what going on? Really?”

“Yes?”

Jazz stood up and put both her hands on Danny’s shoulders. “Danny. You’re a good person.”

“I’m not, though.”

“Okay. Tell me why you think you aren’t a good person.”

“Bad future ring a bell?” replied Danny acerbically.

“You mean the future that never happened.”

“I wasgoing to cheat on that test.”

Jazz inhaled deeply, then sighed. “Cheating on a test does not make you a bad person.”

“I destroyed the world.”

“No, you didn’t,” said Jazz. “last time I checked, the world was just fine. And wasn’t Dan half Vlad anyway?”

“It was still my fault,” mumbled Danny.

“Maybe,” allowed Jazz, “but that doesn’t mean you aren’t a good person, doing good things. Also, you wouldn’t be the first person to grow wings even though you did something bad earlier. Everyone does bad things.”

“Like who?” mumbled Danny.

“Uh,” said Jazz, “I haven’t exactly prepared a list. Um. Oscar Schindler. Like, by all accounts he was kind of terrible right up until, you know.”

Danny sighed and extracted himself from Jazz’s grip. “How am I supposed to hide them, anyway?”

“Well, if they stay small, you should be able to just cover them up. I wouldn’t recommend binding them, that’ll deform the bones. But if they get bigger… Can’t you just keep them invisible and intangible?”

“No,” said Danny, after a beat of time staring at Jazz to make sure she wasn’t joking. “I can’t hold onto either of those for that long. Especially not in human form.”

“Well,” said Jazz. She ran a hand through her hair. “In that case… You might not be able to hide them.”

Danny closed his eyes. “I hope they stay small.”

But he had a feeling they wouldn’t.

[beelsnack]

I Put A Spell On You - Obey Me Boys and A Witch MC

I may have mentioned it in an ask or something before, but I'm actually a practicing witch. (Sorry, Mammon.) So, in honor of spooky season, I bring you witch MC!

----

Lucifer: "Can I ask you something?"

Lucifer looked up from the report he had been working on. In the House of Lamentation, hearing that question was very rarely followed by anything but disaster. He bit back the urge to sigh and turned to look at the human. "You may."

"Have you ever been summoned by a witch?" the human set down their pen. They had taken refuge in Lucifer's room in an attempt to actually get their homework done, and had been working diligently up until this point. "Like, successfully."

He raised an eyebrow. "No, I haven't. I doubt any mortal witch would have the power to actually summon me."

"That's what I thought," they leaned back in their chair, stretching.

"What brought this on?"

"A witch I know up in the Human Realm swore up and down that he had, quote unquote, ‘summoned Lucifer himself.’ No one believed him anyway, but I figured I would ask just to confirm my suspicions.”

“No, it is highly unlikely that a mortal witch would have the magical power to summon me,” Lucifer chuckled darkly. “Although many have tried.”

“What happens to them when they do?” they asked, completely abandoning their work at this point. Part of Lucifer wanted to reprimand them for getting distracted, but he couldn’t deny that he liked having their attention on him. “Do you curse them or something?”

“I do nothing,” he smirked as they got up to lean against his desk. Perhaps he could stand to take a break as well. “The minor demons they actually summon, however, often have their fun with those foolish enough to try.”

“Oh, I’ll bet the Little Ds have a blast with them, huh?” the human grinned.

“Ask Number Two about the time he possessed a ouija board and convinced a human they would die if they ever wore the color blue again.”

Laughing, the human moved to return to their spot at his coffee table where they had spread out all of their study materials. Lucifer, however, had different plans.

“Oof!”

In one quick, fluid motion, he had grasped the human around the waist and tugged them into his lap. The movement had mussed up their hair, and he affectionately moved a few strands out of their face to see their adorable pout.

“You know, my dear, you are the only human witch able to summon me. You should wear that fact like a badge of honor.”

Mammon: “Now that’s just playin’ dirty!”

The human had to make a concentrated effort not to laugh at Mammon. “Yeah, they really didn’t have to go that far. They already have you by the balls.”

“They do not!” Mammon growled, crossing his arms. “Nobody has control over The Great Mammon!”

“Except for the multitude of humans who you made pacts with because they promised you a few bucks.”

“Wow, okay.”

Shaking their head, they gently plucked the doll out of Mammon’s palm. It was a standard poppet, made out of cloth. “Why don’t you just have Lucifer or Satan undo the curses?”

“Because,” Mammon huffed. “Human magic is different from demon magic. None of us know the first thing about it.”

“You just don’t want to admit to anyone that the witches pulled one over on you again.”

“Can you fix it or not?”

Smothering another laugh, they brought the poppet closer to examine it. Aside from the basic filling, it felt like there were some stones in there, and they thought they smelled some herbs.

“So, basically all you need to do is remove whatever link they used to bind the doll to you,” they muttered, more to themself than anything. “Usually it’s hair, nail, a drop of blood if they’re feeling particularly nasty…”

“That’s what they were doin’?”

The human looked up, tilting their head. “What?”

“One of the witches was bein’ real nice to me,” Mammon sighed. “Patting me on the head when I dropped off some money for them. Shoulda known she was trying something fishy!”

“Okay, that answers that.” they made their way over to their desk, plopping down in the chair. “So she probably pulled out some of your hair and put it inside the doll. So all we have to do it get it out, this thing becomes a regular old doll, and voila, curse broken.”

“How do we do that?” Mammon asked, peering over their shoulder as they reached into their drawer. His blue eyes widened when they pulled out a pair of scissors. “Whaddaya plan on doin’ with those?”

“Mammon, this is going to hurt like a bitch.”

“Wha - ack!”

Mammon doubled over in pain at the same time the human cut open a slice on the doll’s belly. There, right in the center of the stuffing and stones - and there were herbs in there, they had been right! - was a little bundle of white hair, tied with a piece of twine.

“Ah-ha!” they plucked the bunch out of the doll, and Mammon just barely managed to catch himself on the corner of the desk before he went crashing to the floor.

“Holy shit, human, I’m gonna fuckin’ hurl.”

“Do it somewhere that isn’t my room, please.”

Leviathan: “Levi, I don’t know how to tell you this, but ‘witch’ and ‘magical girl’ aren’t the same thing.”

Ever since they let it slip that they practiced witchcraft, Levi had obsessively forced them to watch every magical girl anime he could think of. It was his way of relating to them, they were sure, but it was starting to get a little out of hand. There were only so many variations of the magical girl trope in existence.

Levi frowned at them. “It’s not?”

“Well, for one, I don’t own a super cute lolita dress.”

“Do you want me to make you one?”

The human laughed. “Somehow I don’t think showing up to a coven meeting wearing a pink loli dress will make the others take me very seriously.”

“What about blue?”

“Leviathan.”

“Fine, fine,” he huffed. “So if it’s not like in the anime, what is human magic like?”

“A lot more boring than demon magic, honestly.” the human shrugged, turning back to the monitor. Since they had put their foot down against watching Madoka, the two of them were rewatching Sailor Moon. “A lot of using herbs and crystals and energy. Really symbolic.”

“That is boring,” Levi scowled. “You don’t even get a transformation sequence.”

“I’m just as mad about it as you are, dude.”

Satan: “Holy shit, Satan, that is a ton of books.”

THe demon had no reason to look as proud as he did as he sat the stack of books on the table in front of him. “This isn’t even all of them. Some of them are cursed, so I let them be for now.”

“That’s...both impressive and concerning.” the human picked up a book off the top of the pile. “Whoa, it’s even handwritten!”

“I’ve collected my fair share of grimoires over the millennia.” Satan took a seat across from them, watching as they turned each page with reverence. “I believe that one is from a Scottish witch from the 16th century.”

“Should I be wearing gloves or something?” they cradled the book like it was made of glass. “This is historic, Satan.”

“I’ve cast the appropriate spells on them to prevent them from decaying, don’t worry.” Satan laughed. “Although your concern is appreciated.”

“I could learn so much about the craft from these,” their voice was barely above a whisper, eyes wide as they scanned each page like it contained the secret to eternal life. “This is...wow…”

The look of utter rapture that the human had on their face was endearing, and Satan couldn’t help but smile softly at them. “Feel free to peruse them whenever you like. They deserve to be appreciated.”

“You mean it?” they looked up with hope sparkling in their eyes. “Thank you so much, Satan!”

“Of course,” he reached over to tuck a strand of hair behind their ear. “That look on your face is worth any price.”

Asmodeus: “I have a gift for you!”

Asmo poked his head up from where he had buried it in his D.D.D. The human stood next to the couch, arms clasped behind their back and a giddy smile stretching across their face. Asmo could practically feel them vibrating from excitement.

“Ooh, for me? Darling, you shouldn’t have!” He pocketed his phone and gave them his full attention. “What is it?”

They held out their hands, revealing the treasure they had been hiding. “Ta-da!”

Asmo carefully picked up the chain from their palms. Dangling from the end of it was a small bottle, wrapped carefully in wire and turned into a pendant. Tiny, translucent pink stones sat inside, nestled in a layer of salt and herbs. The magic surrounding it was faint, as most human witchery was, but it was so uniquely them that Asmo could just about cry.

“Oh, darling, you made me a love charm!” he exclaimed, immediately slipping the necklace on. “It’s so cute! I love it, thank you so much!”

The human smiled. “I’m glad! I wasn’t sure what to do with the rose quartz, but I knew you would love them, so I figured I would make you something! Not that I really think a love charm would work on you, but I figured you would appreciate the aesthetic.”

Asmo laughed, reaching forward to cup the side of their face gently. “You don’t need to use a love charm on me, darling. I’m already captivated by you.” His other hand came up to touch the pendent resting against his collarbone. “This will just serve as a reminder of how spellbound you’ve made me.”

Beelzebub: When they had first described themself as a “kitchen witch,” Beel had thought that they meant they were a really good cook.

And while that was true, they also were literally a kitchen witch.

“Basil for protection...oregano to ward off negative magic...there, that should do it.”

To Beel, it just looked like they were making pasta. Which was never a bad thing. But they chose which herbs to season it with such intention and purpose, Beel knew it was more than that.

“Do herbs really have magic?” he asked, leaning on the counter next to the stove while the human worked on magic dinner. “I’ve never thought of them as particularly magical.”

“It’s more of a human thing,” they said, sprinkling the last of the oregano over the pot of sauce. “We don’t get the flashy sparks and all that, so we had to develop our own magic.”

“Hm…” Beel regarded the pot with curiosity. “Is that why your cooking is so good?”

“Sure, we’ll go with that.” they laughed, swatting at his hand as he slowly approached the pot. “You aren’t sneaky, Beel.”

“Can I just have a taste?”

“Your ‘taste’ is drinking the whole pot like it’s soup.” they rolled their eyes. “I haven’t even started cooking it yet! It’s cold!”

Beel pouted, looking every bit the kicked puppy. “But I want to taste your magic.”

“You can taste my magic when dinner’s ready.”

Belphegor: On nights when he couldn’t sleep, Belphie usually ended up with the human.

Sometimes it was just him wiggling his way into their bed and cuddling with them until he felt sleepy. But tonight, it looks like they were sharing a case of insomnia.

So that was how he ended up sitting on the human’s floor with his hand in their lap as they studied it like it was a textbook.

“So? What do the squiggly lines of destiny tell you about me?”

“That you’re a little bitch.” they shot back, running their thumb over the center of his palm. “You have a lot of crosses on your heart line.”

“Which means?”

“You’re emotionally fucked up.”

Belphie snorted. “I could have told you that one.”

“You’re the one who came in here and wanted to see some human magic, I don’t want to hear any complaining.” they let go of his hand. “The only reason I’m breaking out the salt and candles is to banish your demonic ass from my room.”

“You know that only works on lesser demons.”

“Anything will work as banishment if I throw it hard enough.”

Diavolo: This...felt kind of pointless, honestly.

They knew it was mainly because of Diavolo’s obsession with human culture. But doing a Tarot reading for the Crown Prince of Hell seemed like a waste of everyone’s time.

Well, regardless, a summons from Diavolo was not to be ignored, so they had dutifully gathered up their cards and made their way to the Demon Lord’s Castle.

“You know,” they began hesitantly. “If you want to know the future, you have a time-manipulating butler right there.”

Barbatos, ever watchfully, chuckled and inclined his head. “My Lord is fascinated by human methods of divination.”

“It’s true,” Diavolo nodded. “Tarot especially has always piqued my interest, but very rarely do I have time to indulge with the other witches who visit the Devildom.”

....Oh, they really couldn’t say no to the hopeful gleam in his eye. A man that large had no right to look that cute.

“Alright,” they handed him the deck of cards. It looked hilariously small in his hands. “Go ahead and shuffle them.”

“Oh, I get to do it?”

“If you want,” they shrugged. “I usually have whoever is being read for do the shuffling, so the deck can get a feel for their energy. Unless you don’t want to, of course.”

“No, this is exciting!” He really did look like he was having fun. “How many should I draw?”

“Just one, and we can go from there.”

With a focus that might have been a bit too intense, Diavolo began shuffling. He handled the deck carefully, which made them happy. So many people were rough with the cards, and they were always worried they were going to get ruined.

“Alright.” Diavolo laid a card face down on the table between them. “Would you like to do the honors?”

He was being dramatic, but they couldn’t help but play along. What was the harm in a little bit of fun? They flipped the card face up and let out a startled chuckle.

The Devil.

“Did you do that on purpose?” they asked, laughter dripping from their voice.

“No, honest!” Diavolo was laughing too. “What does the Devil card mean?”

“It means my deck has a sense of humor.”

[earthstellar]

Transformers Analysis: Folklore and Folk Magic in the Mines of Kaon

thinking about Miner Megatron again, as always. here we goooo 

So I've been doing some folk magic, as I usually do, and it got me thinking:

Surely, the lower class/caste bots wouldn’t feel welcomed into the more organised Cybertronian temples etc., or might even be outright banned from joining in shared spiritual spaces or rituals. 

So it’s time to teach y’all some working class magic history and how we can apply that to Cybertronian spirituality: 

Working Class History: Casting Spells on the Job (Just Call it Prayer so the Boss Doesn't Find Out)

Here's a quick history of rural Appalachian folk magic, for some context:

1) The Christian Bible has been used for spellcasting all up and down the rural East Coast in the USA from day one of colonisation.

In Pennsylvania you have Hexenmeisters and the Pennsylvania Dutch practices, for a well-documented example.

2) The working class has done spellcasting with the Bible from the very first day shitty bosses started

This is for several reasons, but primarily because Bibles were common and cheap, you didn't have to know how to read in order to follow along with or change the lyrics of popular hymns and prayers to fit your own needs, and it was very easy to sneak what is essentially localised witchcraft under the radar when it just looks like you're reading the Bible to everyone else.

Catholic materials were used a lot for this, because they were often provided for free by any local churches, and a lot of working class people in Appalachia were Italian (Roman Catholic) or Eastern European (Eastern Orthodox Catholic), which meant there was no shortage of all sorts of votive candles and the like to utilise for what we would now identify as spellcasting.

It's important to note that it wasn't called spellcasting outright by anybody; Sometimes it was called "hexing" or "sweet talking", among other terms, but if you called it spellcasting it was heavily frowned upon.

A lot of people were uncomfortable (and are still uncomfortable) with verbalising it or identifying it as such due to stigma from the more mainstream religious communities or their own religious backgrounds, and of course, historically if the boss found out that all the workers hated their jobs so much they were doing fucking witchcraft about it, it would not have ended well for the workers.

So, stealth it is. And that's why there are so many specific folk practices in a lot of historically working class rural regions/communities-- Not just in Appalachia, but similar things happen in similar communities around the world.

What does this have to do with Megatron?

Everything we know about the lower classes on Cybertron, the lower caste members, and the mines/industrial regions in Tarn and Kaon suggest that a similar folklore likely existed within these working communities.

And any local folk practices likely developed for the exact same reasons that this type of folk practice developed in the real world:

Workers are fucking miserable, "mainstream" religion isn't satisfying their spiritual/emotional/social/material needs or concerns, and close-knit people in small communities spending most of their time together naturally start to sort of do their own thing based on their collective situation.

People get desperate, there's nowhere to turn and nothing to do, so spirituality becomes a lifeline in that it builds solidarity and creates a more appropriate sort of support system.

For example: If we aren't allowed time off work to mourn our friend who was killed by heavy machinery, and we aren't allowed any time to process that or deal with it or take care of each other, then we will invent a ritual that allows us to grieve on the job.

This was, and still is, a common thing.

Which brings us to...

St. Barbara and the Mines + Solus Prime

St. Barbara's backstory can be summarised, roughly, as such (based on the version of this story that I know; keep in mind the details can vary):

She was kept isolated from others by her father, who became furious that she refused an arranged marriage. When she fled, he chased her; She ran into two people working in a field, the first who helped her, and the second who gave her path away to her father.

She was captured, and brought to a prominent local figure (the title varies based on different versions of this story), who had her tortured for escaping and disobeying her father.

However, when imprisoned, they tried to kill her again and again, and every morning she was healed. Fire intended to be used to burn her would cool the second it got near her skin, and daggers used to cut her would go dull when brought near her.

Snakes thrown into her room intended to bite her would then die the instant they went to approach her, and ropes intended to be used to bind and choke her would spontaneously fray and snap before they could be tied.

Eventually, she was condemned to beheading, and a special sword was used to cut her head off, which finally killed her.

Her father is the one who beheaded her, and as divine punishment, he was hit by lightning-- A single bolt that lasted so long that his entire body went up into flames, and his ashes disappeared.

Her gravesite became a place of veneration, where people prayed for protection and safety.

She became known as the patron saint of all people with dangerous jobs or jobs where the bosses don't care about the worker's wellbeing or safety, for obvious reasons: Nothing but the hands of her own father could ever harm her.  

(The imagery of St. Barbara being slain only by a special sword is very reminiscent of Solus Prime being slain only by a special sword...)

Workers, especially those with particularly dangerous or shitty jobs but also just anyone working class in general, can interpret this story in several ways which can make it additionally relatable:

Her father = A controlling and aggressive boss who abuses or neglects their workers to death.

The field workers = A pro-union worker (a helper) and an anti-union worker or scab (a betrayer).

So you can see how St. Barbara became immediately adopted as a common worker's saint, and was used in a lot of regional working class folk magic practices (where such folk magic developed within local working communities).

And this is still going strong as a tradition; Crossrail tunnel borers in London consecrated the drilling site in the name of St. Barbara in 2013:

"Several hundred contractors and senior management attended the St Barbara's Day ceremony at the Thames Tunnel (pictured) which will link Plumstead and North Woolwich when completed. The site was so large, that sound engineers put in place an amplification system for the ceremony." - Article here. 

"As a long-standing tradition, one of the first tasks for each new tunnelling projects is to establish a small shrine to Santa Barbara at the tunnel portal or at the underground junction into long tunnel headings. This is often followed with a dedication and an invocation to Santa Barbara for protection of all who work on the project during the construction period." - Article here. 

And here's a related example of a worker's prayer for St. Barbara, from here: 

So this is very much a tradition that is still going strong, and it isn't just Catholic workers who engage with these types of things!

To accommodate more diverse groups and communities of workers, folk practices (including what eventually becomes folk magic) increasingly develop even further away from any one specific religious origin, in order to become more inclusive for the majority of people who can be from all kinds of different spiritual or cultural backgrounds.

Hence, more folk magic is made-- And I believe something like this could absolutely have evolved in a similar way in working communities on Cybertron.

Cybertronian Spirituality: The Primes, The Knights, The Titans

My personal theory/headcanon, and there is not much in canon to support this particularly so please keep that in mind, is that given the average type of manual labour working environment in Tarn and Kaon (dangerous, dark, and deep), it would make sense for the legendary Titans to become worked into some kind of folk practice.

We have this concept of the Titans as these giant and very particular beings, which reminds me somewhat of the Jewish Golem of Prague, in that the Titans are made from raw materials in some kind of mystical or cosmically spiritual manner, then eventually ally themselves to at least one respective Prime who then acts as a director of their actions to achieve victory over cosmic evil(s).

The Titans then go forward and act as guardians of Cybertronian life by combating the origins of these cosmic evil(s) as protectors of their respective polities and regions and eventually colony worlds, called into action by what is essentially a metaphysical and possibly outright spiritual pull of the need of their Prime(s) and later on the needs of the Cybertronian and colony world populations in times of threat or desperation.

These details are peppered throughout canon and vary based on media/franchise, but most recently Titan lore was covered again in IDW’s Optimus Prime series, issue 10, literally titled Origin Myths. 

What is interesting is that while the Golem association could be reasonably made, you could also reasonably say that the Three Original Titans (Metroplex, Chela, and Metrotitan) could be associated just as easily with the Catholic concept of the Holy Trinity. 

Lots of different interpretations could be applied to this stuff!

Class Stratification Within Cybertronian Religious Institutions

No matter how you may interpret it, we know that the Titans have a similar mystical presence in Cybertronian history and cultural lore to that of the Primes and Knights, and it would make sense for those spurned and disparaged by "mainstream" spiritual practices (which were likely just as stratified by class and caste as everything else was on Cybertron during Megatron's youth) to go ahead and create a folk practice based more around Titans.

This is because the Primes would like be associated directly with their oppressive rulers and upper classes, and the Knights, who are said to be the first Cybertronians to come from the Well, thusly represent a very high class onto their own which may have repelled working class bots who were very likely sick of essentially worshipping those venerated in their class stratified society solely due to the conditions of their creation; The Knights were "born with silver spoons", essentially, and it's hard to sell that to people who suffered due to the conditions of their own creation.

Therefore, the Titans are the other most likely Cybertronian figures of historical lore that could reasonably be adapted into a sort of folk religion for the working classes and lower social caste bots.

The imagery is strong, and relatable: In Megatron's case, the manual labourers and miners all have large frames compared to the average Cybertronian, they all toil invisibly and in relative silence, and they are kept away from the end products of their labour and yet without them, Cybertron planet wide would instantly struggle to sustain their raw material demands. 

They are critical workers, yet many of them have no names/designations; It is noted at least once in canon that some Titans are so old or so little known that their designations are not recorded. Yet without these unseen/unknown Titans, it could be the case that cosmic evil could have achieved victory.

While the Titans are critical, they are largely a mystery and unknown in any real detail. They do not normally engage with average Cybertronians, and when they do, it is usually indirectly-- Even though their actions actively impact the lives of nearly everyone.

And though the Primes and Knights are generally never physically present, at least not within living memory, there is real and physical proof of Titans. I feel like that aspect alone may well appeal more to people who are very physically oriented; We also see a stark realist mentality from many of the lower class/caste bots, who are sometimes realistic to the point of nihilism (which is part of why Megatron's writings were so revolutionary, in that they re-introduced hope to people who had previously concluded that there was no realistic possibility of ever rising up).

The Titans being a known, tangible physical reality may well have endeared them as a more interesting folkloric or spiritual focus to this particular cohort of bots.

Just like with St. Barbara in real life, you can see how the Titans may have been interpreted in certain ways by the lower class/caste working bots which may have made them more appealing or more easy to structure into a framework of sorts for their own practices within their local cultures.

A Little Meta: There's a Lot of Various Religious Imagery in Transformers

Like with all media, especially Western media, inevitably some Jesus sneaks in there.

Which usually sucks, because it can be alienating for literally anyone who isn't familiar with Christianity in some way (as some references or parallels are inevitably not going to be as obvious or even detectable at all to people who didn't grow up with all this sometimes very specific shit, resulting in missed thematic elements and so on due to no fault of the viewers but rather the tendency for Western shows to overwhelmingly be written and designed by primarily Western white middle aged cis straight men who tend to throw some Jesus in there when there should not necessarily be any Jesus in there, but I could yell about this all night).

Transformers as a franchise altogether is not immune to this; As with all media, it is made by people, and people are influenced by their social/cultural upbringing, and that includes religious influences.

We could read some of this into the TFP/Aligned Continuity, in regards to the idea of the Thirteen Primes and how that concept is interpreted in TFP.

Transformers Prime: Alpha Trion is Essentially Paul the Apostle

The TFP Primes resemble both the Apostles as well as various Saints, and especially the Fourteen Holy Helpers; These fourteen Saints in particular are elevated above the others in many cases and contexts-- Similar to how the Primes are held up as elevated over other Cybertronians and other figures in Cybertronian history and presumably within certain Cybertronian spiritual practices as well. 

For example, Alpha Trion is strongly reminiscent of the Christian figure Paul the Apostle, who was a writer/scribe known for documenting early Christian concerns of faith in his letters, which became extremely important to theological historians in regards to determining early Christian discourse and attempting to create a timeline of early Christianity.

His letters are included the New Testament in thirteen (!) sections called epistles, which are archived forever in various iterations within the Christian Bible. 

Now, let’s take a look at the symbolism, using the TFP main illustration of Alpha Trion as featured in the Covenant, and a popular Icon image of Paul the Apostle: 

Beard, cloak, book-- Even the pose they are in here is very similar, look at the feet and the way they are both standing. Even the halo of Cybertronian glyphs around Alpha Trion’s head resembles the gold filament of Paul’s halo. 

And much like Alpha Trion's questionable ability to write/re-write history and determine events through some kind of cosmically divine power of foresight, the timeline of Paul's letters will likely never be fully verifiable, and of course, there are so many translations and interpretations of these letters along with the rest of the New Testament that while key points remain fairly consistent, there is still no "true" version or exact outline of events or discussions as recorded by Paul-- Primarily because in at least a few cases, Paul's letters are the only allusion to certain events or conversations.

This is extremely similar to how Alpha Trion states outright in the Covenant that he himself doesn't know if what he writes is actually factual anymore, or if he has changed things so many times to try to construct a more favourable narrative of actions and events that reality itself may have been warped by his Quill, either forwards or backwards in time...

You could also argue that Alpha Trion is presented as a God-like figure in TFP (especially when he appears to Optimus in the form of an echoing voice and shimmering spectral figure in a vision caused by what is essentially the equivalent of a holy relic), and Orion Pax would then be comparable to Jesus pre-Crucifixion, with his reformatting into Optimus Prime post-Matrix heavily resembling Jesus in the eyes of his followers post-Resurrection.

The main cast of Autobots in this comparison would then roughly correspond to the Apostles, of whom there were twelve, with Optimus then making Thirteen... And of course, canonically, Optimus is the resurrection of the Thirteenth Prime. 

You can also see visual similarities in the depiction of Thirteen in the Covenant; It reminds me heavily of the Divine Mercy image of Jesus: 

Both have their right hands raised, their chests emitting a holy/cosmic light. 

I'm just saying, it is totally possible to make connections between fictional lore/spiritual figures and real world ones, and TF is loaded with content that can be re-contextualised in this way. 

(I also want to point out at this time that it is not my intention to offend anyone with any of this analysis; I am writing from the point of view of someone who grew up with folk spirituality, and I am also a Quaker Attender, just so you are aware of my own personal background. I would love to hear any other interpretations of any spiritual imagery in Transformers media, because there’s a ton of possible ways to read into this stuff!) 

In Conclusion: Cast a Hex on Your Boss by Calling Upon the Titans

Just for fun, as someone who has actually done folk magic for my entire life, I've adapted a hex against bad bosses to fit this headcanon. I think this is something that lower class/caste bots would absolutely engage in; It's common in real life as well.

The original I'm basing this off of was actually something I found in one of our old family Bibles before I moved out, and was written in Girard, Pennsylvania sometime between 1920-1930. I believe it was written by a relative of mine who worked either on the farm or on the railways.

Remember that folk magic like this is for and by working class people, so there are no fancy supplies needed; Don't ever buy shit to do magic, you can do it with anything laying around you. No need to spend money.

If you have a shitty boss, please let me know if you hex your boss with this. I always encourage witchcraft, fictional or otherwise.

Here's what you do, if you want to actually try this:

1) Using any old paper that you have lying around, cut it roughly into a square (doesn't need to be perfect.) It doesn't matter what type of paper it is.

2) Grab any pen you like, it can be any type of pen, any type of ink.

3) Draw a square outline on the paper, making a border on the page. This can be big or small as you like, and you can decorate it if you want; Just leave enough space to write inside the square.

4) Fold this paper into a square, any way you'd like as long as it's a square, and take this paper while it's still blank to work in your pocket.

Carry the paper with you for at least one full day at work. If you can, place it in a chest pocket or a pocket where the paper will be fairly close to your body.

It doesn't matter if the paper gets dirty or smudged or torn; In fact, that's even better.

(Some people who do variations of this spell in real life even use the paper to wipe dirt off their hands etc. throughout the day, to really get the energy of a work day settled into the paper. As long as it can still be written on, you can do this if you'd like.)

5) At the end of the work day, take the paper out, and write the following:

Where I have put [X], the word "Lord" was in the original version of this hex which was in my family Bible, but to contextualise it within the fictional headcanon lore here, you can replace this with the word "Titan". (Or you can replace it with anything else that may be appropriate as well, if you would like to actually use this hex!)

"Give us pay for our work, or the poor will plea to the [X] against you, and you will be struck down, cast down.  

If you do not give to those who give to you, you will be cursed coming in, and going out.

Just as the [X] can raise you up and lead you to prosper, so too can the [X] turn away from you, and you will be left to have your walls destroyed, your fortress ruined.

Us servants will rejoice, but you will cry out in anguish, you will be put to shame.

Without the toilers, the land is made desolate, the haunt of jackals.

[X], turn your gaze to us, we labourers of all kinds, see our tears and our sweat.

Lay curses upon those who use their hands to hold us down; Kept below water, our tears lost in the flood.

Raise the waters, and surge the shores of their ill-owned kingdom; Bring forth to their memory that the [X] stewards the land, and that all among the land are equal in spirit.

The [X] will cast fury upon the unrighteous and conniving, cast rage and stand among us mightily, each motion casting winds against the oppressor who weakens like fractured stone under the onslaught of rain.

The [X] will make a storm from our anguish, which brings us higher, raises us from desolation. Our tears, become the rain that withers the false tower looming high above us.

Our hands will raise from our tools and duties, and offer high praise to the [X], who guards the disparaged and lowly, who enacts justice against those who have done wrong against us.

Let us be brought high, and those who revel in our struggle, may they be cast down."

6) You may flip the paper over once the ink is dry, and on the back, put three Xs in the upper corners of the paper. You may also add three more XXXs to the centre of the paper, where the crease in the paper is from folding it.

7) Re-fold the paper, and put it in the bottom of your right shoe. If this is too uncomfortable, carry it in any pocket on your right side.

You can also place it in your wallet for safe keeping, as your wallet contains money and possibly a work ID or something similar, which are all tied to work and working.

And there you have it! Fuck shitty bosses, both fictional ones and real ones. Join a union, do some witchcraft. 

This post was long as always, but I hope it's interesting to someone out there! <3 Thank you to anyone who actually reads through all of this! <3

[arofili]

Since we are in theme, can I ask your optinion on Angbang?

I M really curios.

Sure! This is going under a cut because it got uhhh LONG. also content warning for discussion of sexual abuse and other very dark topics. these are bad guys, everyone.

So, I do think there was something really intense and interpersonal going on between Sauron and Melkor. But I don't think it was True Love, and I don't necessarily think it was even sexual - at least not at first.

In my view, the Ainur are not inherently sexual beings. Those of them who are connected to nature and life - Yavanna, Orome, Vana, Nessa, Melian, etc. - inevitably develop relationships to that life that often will lead to sexual feelings. (I have a fondness for horny Yavanna x stone Aule...and not just because of the pun, lol. Basically I think he just does not get the appeal of sex at all but he does it because he loves his wife and she enjoys it. But anyway.)

So, to begin with, Melkor is not at all sexual. It just isn't how the Ainur operate in their default state. He may be "corrupted" or "discordant," but sex and desire are not necessarily either of those things. So for the first part of his existence, Melkor is much more interested in creation and destruction through magical/metaphysical means. Except he can't create on his own. So...he manipulates the existing creations of Eru and the Valar, and eventually decides he needs some backup.

Enter Mairon. As a Maia of Aule, the creator god, he's a perfect candidate for corruption. (I imagine most, if not all, the Balrogs are also former Maiar of Aule. I think he lost the most servants to Melkor of all the Valar.) So Melkor seduces him to the dark side. This is not a literal seduction as we view it in modern terms, but rather the kind of seduction Tolkien probably meant by the word. (Though when it comes to later seductions...I definitely lean on the sexual connotations there, lol.)

Now, we know that Melian, at least, is capable of producing offspring. I don't think that's the kind of thing Melkor had in mind, but there are some parallels between them. Melian binds herself to Thingol, to a specific physical form that can bear children, and as long as she remains in Doriath she cannot shift shape and form the same way she could before marrying Thingol.

Melkor is also bound to a physical form - but in a much different manner. I think that when he was taken into Mandos the first time, the Valar had to bind him to a specific fana while he was in captivity. When he was released, his powers were restored, but limited since he hadn't used them in a long time and was out of practice. When he steals the Silmarils, though, that's when his physical form gets bound permanently. He cannot will his injuries away: his hands remained blackened, and when Fingolfin stabs him in the foot he limps forever after. His possession of the Silmarils and his violent manner of taking them binds them to him in a way similar to Melian's voluntary binding to Thingol.

This makes him more of an incarnate being than most Valar. Melkor becomes less aethereal and more...'human' is not the right word, especially since humans aren't around yet, but you get the gist.

Now, all this time, Sauron has been ruling in his master's stead. I do think he was deeply loyal to Melkor, but having his own power without a boss over him...he liked it. He got used to it. He's not super pleased when Melkor shows up half-crazed and injured and weak. But even weakened, Melkor is still stronger than he is, so Sauron hands power back over to him and bides his time. I also think that for Maiar who have bound themselves to the service of a Vala, that submission is kind of woven throughout their Song: with Melkor back, Sauron is feeling his master's power over him in particular, and even if he's scheming in the back of his mind, most of him is now subservient to Melkor.

Also in this time, Sauron has taken over Melkor's project of creating orcs. He has a much better understanding of how to twist and corrupt elvish hroar and fear than Melkor; he's better at picking up subtleties. Melkor only thought to use brute physical violence against the Eldar; Sauron implemented psychological torture against them. (These are Bad Guys, y'all. No way of getting around it.) And Sauron also discovered how to combine physical and psychological/spiritual torment, in the form of sexual abuse to elves, which if it doesn't kill the elf is a key factor in turning them into an orc, and also a great way of creating more orcs the 'old-fashioned' way. Yikes.

So Sauron shows off his new discoveries to Melkor...and Melkor, newly limited in his physical capabilities, experiences a bit of an Awakening. Basically: Melkor discovers sex, which is in his mind inherently connected to rape, and no one has a good time. Orcs, elves, Umaiar - all of them are subject to Melkor's 'experimentation,' especially Sauron, who is shocked to have his own tools used against him, and shocked at how effective it is. But this new physical/sexual aspect of his relationship to his master only reinforces his bond to Melkor, tying them even closer together, in an incredibly unhealthy and extremely dubiously consensual way.

I do think they have some fun in there. I don't think it's all horrible and nonconsensual, I think there are times Sauron enjoys it and initiates it, but I don't think they're 'married' and I don't think this relationship was ever equal. It was always abusive; now it's only more so. But Sauron is a master manipulator, and he's figuring out new ways to bend Melkor to his will. He just has to be very, very subtle about it, because Melkor is his master, and at the end of the day he is bound to Melkor - he belongs to Melkor.

Let's fast-forward to the Lay of Leithian.

At this point Sauron has gained some more independence. He's the Lord of Werewolves, he's got his own island getaway! He's enjoying the power, and the distance from Melkor. Along comes a ragtag group of elves and one human, and he has his fun killing them all - until Luthien shows up, and humiliates him and casts him out. Sauron flees to Tar-nu-Fuin - not back to Angband, critically, but Tar-nu-Fuin. I think the next time the narrative addresses him is at the end of the War of Wrath.

Luthien then makes her way to Angband, Beren and Huan in tow. Melkor looks upon her in lust and desire, things he is now capable of, where he wasn't before. But Luthien escapes in semi-victory, leaving Melkor furious and unsatisfied.

I do think Sauron returns to Angband eventually, before the Nirnaeth. But I think by the time he goes back, he's gathered enough internal strength to resist falling back fully into Melkor's control. He lets Melkor use and abuse him, he helps plan the Fifth Battle - but never again is he truly loyal to Melkor, and from that moment on he's always plotting his master's downfall, and his inevitable escape.

Well, in the end the Valar come for Melkor, he's thrust into the Void. Sauron is free of him. If his first crucial decision point was the Seduction way back in the Years of the Lamps, this is the second: does he repent and submit to the Valar, or not?

He submits to Eonwe. But Eonwe wants him to come back to Valinor for judgement, and Sauron knows he can't escape punishment if he returns. So instead he flees into the East, and starts building an empire of Men.

The third crucial decision point is, as I mentioned in the previous ask, Sauron's time as Annatar. Here he has a friend, a real friend, who is kind and good and trusting and willing to work with him. I do think Celebrimbor and Annatar engaged in a relationship that was almost romantic, and I only qualify because I headcanon Celebrimbor as arospec and Annatar is never quite sure about what he feels, either. But this is an opportunity for him: he can turn away from his evil schemes, become a new person. He doesn't have to follow through with his plans. The Men he rules over will be fine without him. He doesn't have the Nazgul yet. If he can only let go of his ambitions...

But he can't. And in the end, the possibility of a healthy relationship with Celebrimbor is ruined by Sauron's own choices. It's a twisted echo of his relationship with Melkor, with Sauron placing himself in Melkor's position with Celebrimbor as his subject, his vassal, his plaything.

As for Numenor, and the Cult of Melkor: as much as Sauron hated and feared Melkor, he never could quite shake himself from his service. He was still a Maia who bound himself to a Vala. And while of course the main reason he had the Numenoreans worship Melkor was to further their own downfall, there's a part of him that was soothed by directing some worship to his old Master.

When they finally reunite in the Void, it is not a happy meeting. Sauron is at his absolute lowest, but Melkor's had two Ages to slowly, slowly recover some of his strength. He's a long way off from the Dagor Dagorath, but he's stronger than Sauron. I don't think it's a warm welcome Sauron receives.

So, that's my take on Angbang: yeah, they fucked. But it was fucked up. It was unequal. It was not loving, even if there was obsession and attachment. Melkor was incredibly abusive - and Sauron was no better, even if he was the victim of Melkor's abuse more often than not. These are bad, evil, guys, no matter their original intentions. And I want to make it clear that I don't think they are incapable of love - I think there are aspects of romantic love to both Sauron's relationship with Melkor, and Sauron's relationship with Celebrimbor. But Sauron chooses to abuse that feeling, to find the worst parts of it and exploit them.

Sauron can be fun to write. He's incredibly multilayered. There were moments when I do really think he could have changed. But time and again, he passed those moments by, and committed himself to further evil. He wasn't always that way, and he was greatly shaped by Melkor's evils, but in the end? I think Sauron was worse than Melkor. He had much more time, much more influence. And in that, at least, he won out over Melkor. Even if he was defeated by hobbits, where it took the Host of the Valar to bring Melkor down, Sauron survived so much longer and had so much more impact. Melkor may have been the first Dark Lord, but Sauron was the worst.

[dcforts]

[day 13: poinsettia]

It started as soon as Cas joined them at the diner and slipped into the booth next to Dean liked he usually did.

“Thanks for coming, Cas. We really need your help with this one,” Sam said.

“I’m here. Tell me everything.”

Sam was shuffling through his papers, about to bring him up to speed on the case, when he heard Dean snap, “Can’t you sit on the other side?”, with such vitriol that Sam looked up at him, shocked. His brother’s face was twisted with hostility, “It’s a little tight in here.”

Cas rolled his eyes in an exaggerated manner but got up anyway to move next to Sam.

“So,” Sam started, frowning at his brother, back to sipping his coffee like nothing happened. He turned his focus on Cas, “just in this past week, twelve couples from this town filed for divorce.”

Dean scoffed, “Yeah, I’m still not sure this is a case. It’s Christmas, everyone fights during the holidays.”

“Yeah, but the point is – once they started, they simply couldn’t stop. The neighbours say -”

“So we’re playing marriage counselors now, what a way to hit the botto-“

“Could you be quiet?” interrupted Cas sharp, throwing Dean a glare. “I’m trying to listen to Sam.”

“What’s there to listen? I told you, there’s nothing for us here.”

“How can you be so sure -”

They were raising their voices and people from nearby tables started to crane their neck towards them.

“Guys,” Sam hissed, “I don’t know what’s happening here but can we -,” he tried to say, but it was like he wasn’t there anymore. Dean and Cas were throwing daggers at each other and as Sam’s gaze moved between the two of them, he started to suspect that something not normal was going on there. So maybe the marriage requirement for the curse wasn’t as literal as they thought.

He started sweating, “Uh, can we go back to the case now?”

“I don’t know,” said Cas, his voice dripping sarcasm, “maybe Dean has something more interesting to do.”

“Look, you’ve been here five minutes and-”

Sam sighed heavily. “Alright. Guys- guys, w-why don’t you take this outside? I’ll pay the check and be right out.”

Scoffing and grumbling, then slipped out of their seats and stormed out of the diner.

Sam sighed and raked his hands through his hair.

He tried to tell himself that it could be a coincidence, but his confidence whitered considerably as he watched through the windows his brother stomping through the parking lot and Cas following him with his arms crossed on his chest.

He took out his phone and called Rowena.

“What is it now, Samuel?” she answered.

“Hey Rowena. I- I need your help.”

*

Not even halfway through the story she interrupted him with a chuckle, “Oh, don’t worry Samuel. I know exactly what you’re dealing with.”

“You do?”

“But of course. And I know who’s doing it. It’s a witch, goes by the name of Emlen. They like to cause mayhem during the holiday season. Harmless curses, wear off right after Christmas. It happens every few years.”

“How are they doing this?”

She thinks about it for a moment, “At the victims’ houses. Did you happen to notice a poinsettia?”

“Th-the plant?”

“Yes, a poinsettia Sam, the Star of Bethlehem, the Fire Flowers of the Holy Night.”

“Yeah, got it. I don’t think so, I mean, everyone’s got one these days. So, maybe?”

“Well, the last time that’s what was setting off the curse. It’s very clever actually,” she went on, “They have them delivered to their door, and the plants let out these fumes -”

As she talked, and the wheels turned furiously in Sam’s head, his eyes fell on the centerpiece in the middle of the table. In a little jar, among glitter red berries and snow covered pine-cones, set a fresh plant with red and green leaves.

Sam shook his head, defeated. There was no doubt now.

Dean and Cas were in trouble.

He sighed, and snatched the plant to stuff it in his bag. He threw a couple of bills on the table and hurried to the exit still with his phone attached to his ear.

“So I need to look for a florist?”

Rowena sighed, exasperated. “No, Samuel. They are way smarter than that. I bet they enchanted a florist to do the work for them. You’ll need to go and gather all the plants and in the meantime – I imagine I could prepare an antidote of sorts to stop the effects right away. You’ll have to give it to the victims.”

“What about the witch?” he asked as he pushed open the glass doors and stepped out in the cold parking lot.

“I’ll take care of Em. We’re old friends, I’m sure they’ll be reasonable if I asked it as a favor.”

Sam let out a sigh of relief but his worry spiked again as the Impala came into his view. Even from there he could see Dean and Cas talking fast at the same time, clearly arguing.

Rowena said, “Did you say twelve couples, right? It’s twenty four vials.”

“Uh – actually. Can we make it twenty six?”

“Sure, Sam,” she said, sarcastic, “and I bet you want the express shipping as well? You know I only have two hands and can’t possibly…”

“Just – Please,” cut her off Sam, trying to express the frustration he was feeling. And he was feeling a lot of frustration as he was approaching the car and could hear indistinct shouting from the inside, “I’ve got a bit of a situation here. Um, Dean and Cas are kind of at each other’s throat.”

Rowena chuckled, but didn’t sound surprised at all as she said, “Of course they are. Fit the profile, don’t they? Alright Samuel, I’ll be there soon. Just try and hold tight, my poor boy.”

“Yeah, thanks Rowena.”

*

The ride to the motel was frosty at best. Sam stayed absolutely still in the backseat and did not comment on the Dean’s jerky driving or the fact that Cas stared grumply out of the window the whole time.

He had tried a weak, “Are you guys still fighting?” when he’d slipped in and they both had given him a stern “No,” that obviously meant the opposite.

Back at the motel the situation did nothing but worsen. They sat on opposite sides of the room and resolutely did not look at each other.

Well, at least until Sam broke the silence to say, “Rowena is on her way. This will be over in no time,” and his brother commented under his breath, “Yeah, Rowena is always there when you need her. Must be nice.”

And Cas whipped his head around, “If you’re referring to me, I’ll have you know that I came as soon as you called.”

Dean snorted, “You mean, as soon as you decided to pick up your phone.”

Sam let out a whimper.

“As I already told you -” thundered Cas but Dean cut him off, raising his voice, “I don’t wanna hear it, Cas. You say the same thing everytime and they you disappear again for two weeks!”

“Uh, guys? Why don’t we -” Sam tried to interrupt them by blocking their view of each other but they just stood up and walked around him.

“You know what’s funny?” Cas went on, sarcastic, talking over him, “That you’re always saying that I should be around more, but when I am around, you sure go out of your way to make me feel unwelcome.”

“Fine!” exploded Dean, “If that’s how you feel than I’ll just stop asking you…”

“… as if you ever asked. You just assume…”

“… then I won’t have to…”

Sam resisted the urge to press a pillow on his face and just closed himself in the bathroom.

*

When he finally heard knocking, Sam ran to the door and pulled Rowena in uncerimoniously.

“Oof, Sam, this is no way to greet a lady,” she complained but then her attention was caught by Dean and Cas behind his back, shouting in the middle of the room a few feet from each other. Her jaw dropped.

“... wish you’d just stop covering your feeling with humor...” Cas was saying.

“... well, I wish you’d stop snooping in my head every chance you get...”

“... If you think one needs to have celestial powers to see what’s clearly on your face Dean Winchester...”

Rowena met Sam’s desperate gaze and winced.

She patted his arm, reassuring, “I’m here now.”

*

“I’m not drinking that.”

“This is ridiculous. Dean and I are not married.”

“I know – just – please. You’re driving me nuts,” said Sam, pratically shoving the vials in their faces. Rowena had proposed to magically bind them and Sam was starting to consider it.

Thankfully - without even stopping glaring at each other - they took them from his hands and downed them in one go.

There was a moment of stillness and then Sam saw them sprinting towards one another. He gasped and tried to step in, thinking that they were about to throw punches but instead they ended up – smashing their mouths together.

Which was definitely more jarring for Sam. He stood frozen in shock and then made his way to Rowena, who was calmly putting on her coat, her back to the scene.

“Er, Rowena?” he called, alarmed. “Uh, they’re – is this normal?”

She threw a look over her shoulder at Cas wrapping Dean in his arms and Dean yanking Cas’ hair.

“Oh, it’s just a little after effect,” she said lightly. She met Sam’s worried eyes and explained, “The antitode has some ingredients in common with love potions. A little nudge, just enough to reverse hostility. It brings out desire. It’s nothing, Sam,” she shrugged, “and it’ll wear off in a couple of minutes, so I say we get out of here now and go deal with Emlen and the other couples. You know,” she smirked, “in case they decide what’s good for them and decide to stay.” She shouldered her bag, “Chop chop now, Samuel,” she said cheerfully, shoving him slightly. “We got work to do.”

*

Two minutes later, Dean and Cas pulled away from each other in the empty motel room.

They looked wide eyed, their faces red, their lips swollen. Dean’s voice was on the verge of hysteria and disbelief when he said, "We kissed.”

He was still holding the lapels of Cas’ trenchcoat and Cas still had his arms tight around his waist.

Cas blinked at him, “Yes,” he said, “I think we were cursed.”

Dean nodded briefly and tried to think fast. “Sam must be working the case,”. He thought about calling him, making sure he was alright and didn’t need assistance but his eyes couldn’t stop flicking between Cas’ eyes and lips, “Seems like whatever he’s doing is working. Uh - Sorry about -”

“I’m sorry too,” Cas said, still a little out of breath, “Can we keep kissing now?”

Dean exhaled, “Yeah, good idea,” he said, throwing his arms around his neck.

joining @bend-me-shape-me in doing this!

[itsclydebitches]

I was once more thinking of vol 8 and other works to compare it to. I hit Harry Potter, specifically Order of the Phoenix. Literally all that happened there showed a much better "proactive Hero" and "Big Bad vs Big Good" battle that it feels unfair to compare. What say you Clyde?

It's been a very long time since I read Order of the Phoenix, but putting aside that and the series' problems with representation (something that always feels like it needs to be acknowledged when discussing HP nowadays), Rowling did a good job of setting up both motivation and justification for Harry's actions. Which isn't to say that he was never wrong — quite the opposite, especially in OotP — but that Harry's involvement in this war is justified in a way that Ruby's involvement is not. He's not just generally active (no tea sipping equivalent scenes), but we understand why he's the one taking that action.

Harry is an unwilling participant forced to fight due to a prophecy, so when he stumbles along the way, we as the reader are understanding because jeez, what else what he supposed to do? Literally no one else can do this and he's trying his best. Ruby, in contrast, is not necessary to this fight. We might have gotten that with her silver eyes, but we didn't, so when Ruby willingly steps up — or, in Volume 8, forcibly takes control — and then gets upset because things didn't go well, the viewer (or at least some viewers: us) are far less forgiving because she demanded this responsibility and then found she didn't like having it. When Harry rushes off to the Department of Mysteries, endangering many of his friends in the process (even if they volunteered) we understand that this action is done out of love. We've spent five books establishing Harry's desire for a family, it's literally his greatest wish according to the Mirror of Erised, so going after Sirius, while reckless, is such an in-character, relatable, human decision. It's integral to who Harry is as a person. Compare that to the lack of work done surrounding Summer and the unanswered question of why Ruby is fighting Salem. Because it's the right thing to do? Great, fantastic, but uh... that doesn't really explain or justify why she's leading the charge when all these other huntsmen — with the same goals, more experience, better plans, etc. —are trying to do The Right Thing too. When thinking about HP vs. RWBY, my mind always goes back to that moment at the end of the first book when Harry tries to tell McGonagall about the stone and she brushes him off. "Ah," I thought later. "That's why three 11yos are going off to save the magical artifact when there are adult, full-fledged wizards around to do it instead. The kids tried to turn hand this off to the adults and the adults failed them." Now, combine this with Harry's growing tendency to go it alone, the implication that Dumbledore may have been allowing him to face certain threats to get stronger, each book's individual situation like a hidden chamber that only Harry can enter, his Godfather being on the run, a magically binding contract that keeps him in a competition because the bad guys are specifically after him... Harry is at the heart of the story. He's integral to it, his part in the fight inevitable, so all that's left is to see how he bears that burden.

Ruby is not integral to this fight, her presence and even her silver eyes are not necessary, her facing down Salem is only inevitable from a meta perspective regarding expectations for a protagonist (and then, in Volume 8, Ruby didn't face her.) There's no clear personal motivation to drive her. There's not even a Guardian's of the Galaxy-esque motivation in the form of, "We'll step up because no one else will." Others do keep stepping up and Ruby keeps forcing them to follow her instead, insisting that her way is better. Only problem is, it's arguably not and that's when she has a plan at all. It's like if instead of going after the stone because his professors won't, or going after Sirius because he loves him, or going after Voldemort because a prophecy and a life of having a saving-people-thing has pushed him to that, Harry made his way to the front of this war Just Because, rejecting everyone else who fought in the first war, has more experience, and actual plans along the way. Why does he do this? Because his name is in the title of the book, I guess.

RWBY throws in lost of classic ideas and setups, but doesn't seem to understand their point. Even something as simple as that Big Bad vs. Big Good conflict in Volume 8. Putting aside how muddied this has gotten between the Gods' involvement and Salem's dip in the grimm pool, Volume 8 took the threat of our Big Bad arriving with an army and... ignored it. Instead, they ran with Ironwood as the primary antagonist of the volume, the guy trying to stop Salem, a previously established ally, the guy who just gave up his arm to capture another clear-cut villain, and who throughout Volume 7 demonstrated none of the manipulation we would attribute to a Dumbledore-like figure. Rather than running with their Big Bad's arrival, RWBY asked how they could force one of the good guys to become a bad guy instead, hence the sudden shooting of Oscar and murder of the councilman. This is a far from perfect comparison (and I take my virtual life in my hands bringing up another controversial character lol), but it's a little like if after we learned about which side Snape was truly on, he suddenly tried to kill Hermione, succeeded in killing a minor character like Professor Flitwick, and then made plans to destroy all of Hogwarts. Meanwhile, everyone is ignoring Voldemort standing on the front lawn because the narrative randomly made Snape the biggest problem instead. So a lot of the fanbase is like, "Yeah he's absolutely a dick and his horrific past/contentious choices are the point of his character... but he's also supposed to be one of the good guys at the end of the day? And the Big Bad is right there? We can argue about how 'good' Snape is until we're blue in the face, but he's no Voldemort. Why did you feel the need to chuck the morally gray character off the deep end for our heroes to oppose when our primary antagonist is literally right here, trying to kill them?" From this, to introducing a dead mother that in no way motivates our cast, to having Oscar face down Salem with an improvised weapon instead of Ruby with her eyes, to giving Penny an arc about accepting her android body only to rip it away, etc. etc. RWBY continuously throws out ideas without understanding what they're meant to accomplish. There's a lot to criticize about Harry Potter nowadays, but a lack of logical development isn't one of them.

And just to chuck in another text — because I too think about what has done Volume 8 themes better lol — consider: Loki. Stop reading now if you don't want spoilers, but a couple episodes in Loki and Sylvie end up on a dying planet that is only evacuating the rich. That's said overtly in both the dialogue and visually in the mise-en-scene, with poor people screaming that only the rich are getting tickets for the rocket and elaborately dressed elites enjoying the comforts of that ride. Then, just as they're about to escape, leaving the rest of their world behind, a piece of the moon hits the ship, either killing them instantly or stranding them with the people they abandoned. And I thought to myself, "See, this makes sense in a way RWBY never did." Evacuation was never about wealth in RWBY, despite what the fandom continually claims. Ironwood was trying to evacuate everyone and only stopped because they all assumed Salem would be killing them momentarily. This situation included Relics and a Maiden that would easily turn the tide of the war, meaning their safety influenced the whole world, not just these people. Mantle was not necessarily about to be destroyed — indeed, we find out later that Salem had no interest in it — and it was always a bad faith (and OOC) assumption that Ironwood was leaving his kingdom for good. The story doesn't even acknowledge the huge number of Mantle citizens already on Atlas when the attack begins. I was just sitting there thinking, "This two episode mini conflict in an insane show with alligators and time shenanigans somehow holds up better than RWBY's 27 episodes that are trying to be deep. How does that happen?"

[beautifulterriblequeen]

The Thief and the Tinker, Part 4: Circles and Cycles

part 3

Part 4

Viren: *smirks and plinks Runaan's coin to Ethari*

Ethari, furious: You throw another Moonshadow at me and I'm gonna lose it.

Circles and Cycles

Angst rating: 8/10

Back to Ethari, because we're not done with him yet. Ethari is soft, but he isn't weak. He won't be a willing pawn for Viren. He loves Runaan to the point of invention, and his devotion is more constant than the moon itself. He'll agree to do what Viren says, and he'll be Very Sad. But his spirit is in no way broken. Viren bribing him with the coins containing his family will only have the opposite effect. It'll give Ethari something to fight for.

We could get Focused Chaos Ethari. We could get Angery Trickster Ethari. We could get Rules, What Rules? Ethari. Let him try to steal the coins, try to break them, try to kill Viren, and be stymied at every turn, until he settles and seems cowed. And then all he does is craft his way out of the problem.

What if we are gifted with Iron Man Elf Ethari, who pretends to build a fake Key for Viren, but meanwhile he's really building a coinbuster with whatever he can get his hands on - primal stones, magically imbued gemstones, stolen artifacts, his own arcanum, his own reputation as the Master Craftsman of the Silvergrove. He'll use almost - almost - anything, to stop Viren and free his family.

Ethari may have to choose between those two things, though. And he's a hero, deep down, just like his family, just like his daughter. If he has to choose, he'll choose to stop Viren and save Xadia. He'll pay the same price as his family has if he must.

He'd let Viren think he was motivated purely by wanting his family back, but Ethari is far too steeped in the illusion and sacrifice for that to be all there is to his motives. It's a so-close-and-yet-so-far thing, how he and Viren almost embody the same ideals. Almost. Ethari would take one look at Viren, who just burnt down his whole Forest, he'd see the biggest threat in Xadia, and he'd say anything to get a chance to stop this juggernaut of destruction from getting his hands on whatever that ultimate power really is, locked behind that missing key. If he has to abandon his people and bawl his eyes out to convince Viren he's in, then he will.

And Viren wouldn't make it easy for him. He knows clever when he sees it. He went through all this trouble to persuade Ethari to work with him. He would need to keep Ethari as off-balance as possible to ensure that he keeps working as he should.

Angsty jewelry, anyone?

Viren giving Ethari his husband in pendant form to remind him what he's working for, when Viren and Ethari both know full well that only dark magic can open the hellcoins. Ethari wearing another pendant of his love, except it's not a metaphor this time. It's literally his love, in a coin around his neck.

Viren would love making Ethari stay close to him of his own free will if he ever hoped to free Runaan. Making people bind themselves to you is a big power flex. Remember that TDP stream future-season teaser note about Bait being in a creepy restraint in a future season?

This card is written on in all-caps, so that really could be "Bait" or "bait," or--knowing this show--both. Viren's been using Runaan as bait for Ethari all along. Putting his coin in a dark magic pendant casing for Ethari to wear would be a great parallel for that. Oh god. Oh man.

Maybe he'll stab the coin's scary casing right through that circle on Ethari's chest, right over his heart, make that Iron Man reference really obvious. Ethari also losing his shirt at some point, for angsty Viren-related reasons? It's more likely than you think. I mean... Ethari is literally involved in both forms of forging at this point. Shirt's gotta come off for uhhhh work reasons. And because he's hot. Because of all the forging. Mmhmm. I mean how else are we finally going to discover what his markings look like this is research I swear

I mentioned that I liked god-tier villains, right? Yeah, this is amazing. I haven't wanted to die and ascend over an idea for quite a while, but Ethari vs Viren in a drawn-out battle of wills would kill me in the best way. Especially since, while it looks like they're essentially fighting for who gets Runaan, they're truly fighting a much larger battle with much higher stakes. They're fighting for the future itself. It's an epic struggle between the Narrative of Strength and the Narrative of Love. And we've seen what happens, over and over, when the Narrative of Strength gets to call the shots.

On a meta note: If Ruthari's story arc isn't a love letter from one trauma survivor to another, and on a broader scope to all survivors who see it, I don't know what is. Sometimes life just chews us up and spits us out and we can't stop it and it breaks us. But sometimes we can reach out and grasp the chance to help each other, even after that, even when it hurts a lot, because we know what it means to be loved, and to love, and to want a safer future for each other and for people we'll never meet. The future is worth standing together for, helping each other back up for, fighting side by side for, even if you can't see how it'll end, or even how to begin. We are stronger together, and sometimes we need to fight for our "together" before we can fight for anything else. And that's worth it, every time.

This is glorious, it's beautiful, it's tragic, it's amazing, it makes me want to dance, it makes me want to scream into the void, it makes me want to slap someone with a semi truck. No, someone specific, don't worry, and he super deserves it.

Because Ethari is going to win. He was always going to win. He's soft, and he's clever, and he hasn't forgotten what love means. It's what he's fighting for. Not power, not control. Love. He doesn't want to dictate Runaan's future or anyone else's. He just wants his husband--and everyone else--to have one at all.

So he's going to win.

What thwarting Viren looks like, I couldn't possibly guess. TDP is no stranger to angst, so there will probably be a high cost involved in outwitting the dark mage. Maybe not everyone can be rescued from the coins. Maybe Ethari will lose his life, or his soul, or his vision, or something else really angsty. Viren could even kill him and resurrect him as a smoky craftsman, or a zombie craftsman, or something equally biddable but horrible. The only thing I'm sure of is that Ethari would never willingly make a working Key of Aaravos Ethari as long as there's a chance Viren could possess it. But I do believe that if he gets the right opportunity while he's busy saving the world from Viren's dark intentions, he'll break his husband's hellcoin open somehow and set him free, even if he has to smile at the devil to do it.

Ethari understands the difference between "you can" and "therefore you should." He might sacrifice his own world to save his husband, but he'd never sacrifice someone else's world. That's one of the Moonshadow cultural limits I've noticed: they accept boundaries when it comes to other people's autonomous rights, especially regarding life and death.

These limits could get pushed. Ethari will be under great duress and emotional strain if he goes through this kind of interaction with Viren. And maybe he will choose some dark things. Everyone else has. But I'm placing all my eggs in the basket labeled "Saved By Love." Either I'm right, or I'll get the best angst omelets in the universe. And I do love omelets. A villain invented them, you know. ;)

Another support for Ethari not making the key for Viren: the real Key exists!

Callum has it right now. The plot doesn't need Ethari's key (yet? ever?), but it does need Ethari to learn what he's made of, to stand up for something, or against something, or both at once. And once he learns what he will and won't do and the universe has rewarded his discovery with the return of his beloved husband then Ethari will be ready to take on whatever else the plot has in mind for him.

Depending on the plan, all of these events could happen in S4, as a setup for even bigger things to follow. Viren's wishes can be thwarted here and the show's overall tension will only continue to rise. It would let Ethari flex yes pls his skills so we know who he is, it would show how driven Viren can be for a long-term goal, it would let Claudia saunter further downwards, it would reveal some human/Moonshadow history, and it would resolve the seasons-long tension regarding Runaan's fate, allowing for the cycle of speculation, feels, angst, and Ruthari fanart to begin again. ;) Viren would need to find another way to pursue his long-term goal. And Callum's Key will get a little more clarity on just how important it is to the fate of the world - which will make everything he does, and everyone he talks to, and anyone who knows what he's carrying, intensely important.

Nyx is gonna steal it isn't she, omg chaos birb

To Viren, Ethari was a main course, meant to be devoured and consumed in his lifelong quest for something that will finally satisfy. But to Ethari, Viren was just empty calories to be passed over in favor of ordering his perennial favorite dish, one more time.

Once Ethari escapes Viren's clutches with as much of his family as he can rescue, Viren may turn back to looking for the real Key, especially if someone's seen it recently. Hunting a kid probably seems easier than hunting a full-grown Moonshadow craftsman who just outsmarted him. okay so maybe Nyx stealing it would be a good thing and save Callum's life

Ethari could go on to help repair the Sunforge, or rebuild the Moonhenge, or work on constructing Moonshadow villages in Katolis if he hasn't been ghosted for abandoning everyone after the forest fire. He might build magical devices for any number of reasons, to help all kinds of characters. Hopefully, wherever he goes, he'll have Runaan with him, in some way, for at least a little while. Cycles be like, and I feel like Runaan will not want to remain still for long, for whatever reason. Does he need revenge, atonement, justice, a new body, to find Rayla, to find Ezran? He'll be back in action as soon as he can, I think.

Okay, but, I'm so soft at the thought of a scene where Runaan and Ethari come before King Ezran. The husbands tried to save their people Runaan's way, the old way, and it only continued to endanger them. Following the cycle, as Moonshadows do, was the wrong move. But the son of the last human Runaan killed reached out with mercy and broke a thousand years of suffering and sorrow and hatred. Ezran did what Runaan couldn't: he saved the Moonshadow elves from total destruction. And that, more than anything else in the world, could soften one very broody assassin's heart toward humans again.

What would Runaan do, if his heart truly changed toward humans? What would he say to Ezran? I could see him struggling for a long moment before dropping to one knee to pledge his heart as he once had to do before the Dragon Throne. He doesn't know any other way but to serve. Ezran, reading the whole room and everyone's feelings before he tells Runaan that No, we don't do that here. That he's free, and free means free. No chains, no oaths. Just trust and friendship. He should get to make his own decisions for a change, even though that can be hard and scary sometimes. Runaan being genuinely scared, because that's too much freedom. But he's not alone. He has Ethari, and Ezran, and Rayla, and Callum, and their people, and their allies. And no matter what else happens, the people of Katolis - elven and human - will find a way forward. Together.

part 5

[queer-as-used-by-tolkien]

Storyline Study: Season 3

The Commander's storyline and actions in S3 are extremely erratic. I'm here to say ArenaNet did this on purpose for the Commander's storyline - which nicely gives lie to the myth that they ignored Trahearne.

The idea? ArenaNet did not ignore Trahearne's death... but all the other NPCs did (or seemed to).

The theory is that the story Anet was trying to tell with the Commander is that they was lonely. The theme of the whole game is unity and working together, and we just had a general all-around fail with that in Maguuma when all the Pact was hostile to sylvari, and so we failed at the Big Message of the game, and that's why we 'lost' (killed Mordremoth, but lost Trahearne). The idea is that this has lasting repercussions, because the Commander was traumatized by Trahearne's death - not just by his death, but by the fact that you were the one to kill him.

And so, you're traumatized, and that continues to have negative impacts on the storyline and the main point of the game for the rest of S3 (and also a significant portion of PoF, but that's a different story).

I think that, all throughout S3, the Commander is feeling lonely. First off, hardly anybody recognizes that Trahearne meant something to you, they're only (at best) concerned about the hole he left in Pact hierarchy. I don't blame General Almorra for this? She lost her warband the same way we lost Trahearne, but she doesn't know we had to kill him. I think, after a year of silence from the Commander, Almorra thought they had handled the grief of Trahearne's death (because she probably WOULD know we were close to him) and didn't want to intrude or anything. She was kind of doing her best, at first, to not explain what was going on internally with the Pact and the Pact's general feelings towards Trahearne, so I think she was trying to respect our feelings because she knows grief. (If at this point, Commander - especially a Vigil Commander - had, say, had a mental breakdown and explained to her what happened, she would be ten times more sympathetic and she might glue us to her side until she was sure we were alright.)

Enough about Almorra. Eir's also dead, Zojja's out of it, Logan decides to become Marshal (betrayal!) and he's also so out of it he's just doing paperwork, Rytlock is called away by Black Citadel superiors, Marjory ignores our pleas to think twice about Lazarus and disappears with him, Caithe got tied down guarding Aurene, Braham yells at us and leaves, Rox goes with Braham so he doesn't do anything too reckless, and it's just all not in control. The Commander literally has a line about this to Taimi: I can't make anyone listen to me, I'm doing bad at being a leader so please listen to me. (I forget if Taimi did or not.) We stare down Anise and help Canach work his way out of his debt to her, and invite him to Dragon's Watch, only for him to say "I've been under someone's yoke for too long" (CLEARLY referencing, not just Anise, but Mordremoth too) and then disappears. Oh, and then Marjory gets deathly wounded and Kasmeer vanishes.

This intense loneliness is all symbolized by the fact that we face down Balthazar, the God of War, and potentially an awake and active Primordus, by our own freaking self in a volcano. Taimi's there for technical support, but she's less of a combat buddy and more of a liability to protect (no offense, Taimi). Commander never faces down bad guys alone. They always has an army (or at least a dedicated group of powerful friends) behind them.

The Commander is so desperate for allies they take a magically binding death-oath to get into the Shining Blade. Exemplar Kerida is snarky and at first Commander doesn't like it, but they warm up soon enough. (Kinda like Canach. "did you singe your eyebrows off?" "eh, they needed a trim." Canach would DIE.) But also the Commander is tested by being promptly confronted with their worst fears and insecurities. But you're willing to do it if it means you'll have companions? And then it's HELPFUL, and all the little things that have been bugging you for the whole Season 3, about Rytlock and Caithe (and she mentions Trahearne) and Braham and Eir and all those things that make you feel like a failure as a leader - you deal with them, you put those demons to bed!

And then, we GO BACK TO ORR.

AND IT IS ALL GREEN AND ALIVE.

AND VERY HEARTBREAKING, THANK YOU. This is also, if memory serves, the same time Anet released the Knight of the Thorn side-story and the statue of Trahearne, and so you're thinking about this already and you're going aahhh this weird statue they don't understand him and also aaahhhhh Ridhais we are twin spirits and then you GO TO ORR.

And there you have a BUNCH of people who understood Trahearne and are working to preserve his legacy and also there is the ghost of King Reza!! And they ask for your help! And you can do your own little part to spread life by killing skelk scavengers or something, and so you help, and this kind of calms you and gives you a sort of communion with the land and the people around you who all understand Trahearne and his goals and his legacy, and this is massively understated in the game but I think it's very healing. You kill some Risen (with Caladbolg!), and so that's a kind of catharsis. You go through the reliquaries of the Six, you discover some things about Orr that Trahearne may or may not have known (I forget if there was maybe dialogue about how the whole place was sort of magically protected from intrusion), and if he did know it then you can know it too and it's a sort of I'm walking in your footsteps Trahearne moment, and if he DIDN'T know it then it's a sort of I won't let Orr die with you, I'll keep it and the memory of it alive and growing for you.

And then you go and punch Lazarus in the face with The Shining Blade and also Exemplar Kerida who is also Livia? And wasn't she a necromancer from GW1 and she stayed alive all this time with the - guess what - Scepter of Orr? (I think?) So we have a snarky, hundreds-of-years-old necromancers with a special Shining Blade (Caladbolg glows, right?) whom Anise defers to and who doesn't mind bossing YOU around like nobody's business. But you fight this Lazarus who was supposed to be dead but he preserved himself inside these aspect things, and Kerida/Livia is about to die and you're panicking like it's going to be Trahearne all over again? But then you DO it, you WIN!

Now, you're still awfully lonely and all your friends are still not around (except Taimi, bless her heart), and you faced the literal last of the mursaat with nothing except you and this snarky menace, but it's a start and and its an improvement and you've got hope again.

So really, the Season 3 storyline is massively about the Commander overcoming grief and guilt and shame regarding Trahearne, and I think Anet did it on purpose. Why did we go to Orr? NO IDEA. Tie-in to Kerida/Livia having the Scepter of Orr, and also for a bit of backstory on Balthazar getting Lyssa's mirror, and of course we do need an update on Orr SOMETIME, yeah, sure sure. Those too. But really I think it was healing for the Commander's poor traumatized brain, but Anet didn't want to say it because of all the haters.

[raevenlywrites]

A bit of the Twins

Felt really inspired on this scene, so I thought I'd share. If you remember Lawrence Crane (Bird) and his sarcastic demon, then happy day for you cause here it is again, bothering Bird's sons. Well, "happy" is maybe a bit generous :/

1.6k, angst/trauma memories, dark magic, inherited problems

--

“The cliff is called Lovers’ Last Kiss.”

"How romantic."

A shivering voice came from the darkness, or more specifically, from a patch of darkness that was deeper than the rest, more solid. And vaguely human shaped.

It stepped from the trees but became no less clear, just a shadow extending farther than the tree should be able to cast it. It reminded Orai instantly of how his father's shadow had been Wrong.

"Love has nothing to do with it, my little duckies. Kissing, maybe, but it's the joining that matters, not the emotions or lack thereof."

A wave of revulsion struck Orai and Iaro both, different ends of the same awful moment of their father's history. A girl, chained and struggling, blood and bruises the only things covering her skin. A boy, equally bound and beaten, if that would be more to his taste. And the sour/metallic rage/horror that burned up his throat as the first prickles of magic kissed his skin. He knew that magic, the heady sweet whispering of Cretia's promises of love and devotion--twisted. He had never experienced something so hideous in his life, and he was meant to wield it?

No one said against who, boy.

The voice echoed with the same shivery duality of the too dark shadow's, and both boys broke from the vision/memory with a gasp.

"What the fuck," Orai panted, doubled over on his hands and knees. Spit dribbled from his open mouth, the sickly tang herald of bile yet to come. Beside him, Iaro had not been so lucky. Every bit of dinner came back up and then some.

Damira knelt at Iaro's side, though she kept the shadow in view. She stroked a cool hand over his forehead, brushing away the sick sweat and chasing his hair back.

Khat had instantly put herself between the shadow and the group, a wall of fire hovering midair between them. The flames did nothing to give detail to the dark form.

"Are you alright, Orai?" She called behind her, unwilling to take her eyes from the thing in front of her.

Damira cupped her hands, calling cool water to them as she offered it to Iaro to drink.

"No need to hold onto those nasty memories, my lovelies. Call of your guard mara and I'll eat them back up for you."

If a formless shadow could hold up its hands in a gesture of harmlessness, the one before them did now. It was less seeing and more seeming, and it seemed to be contrite, and a little wistful.

"If I had a prettier way to show you, I would have. But we all have things that Bind us to this world-- well, maybe not this world."

It looked around the dreamscape, shimmering and shifting as it did. The darkness tried to take on a shape, but the two shapes were so opposed they seemed to cancel each other out.

"Its a nice place you've got here. A nice antithesis to its birth. Lovers' First Kiss Island. Cute."

Khat's eyes narrowed, and she called back, "Orai?"

It was Damira who answered. "Draw down the fire, but stand ready."

Clenching her teeth, Khat did so, pulling the fire back into herself, but not fully extinguishing it there.

Orai watched the shadow approach, knowing he knew this spectre from somewhere. It felt like staring into the void, like brushing uncle Naj's power, but different.

"That'd be the Dai bindings, sweets. We all feel a little bit the same, those of us brushed by their evil. Now, may I eat those nasty memories again?"

Orai's eyes widened, as if dilating would make more light bounce off the nothing. But that’s what it was. Not a shadow. An absence of light.

"You're dad's demon."

The being seemed to smile.

"He likes to think so. May I?"

It offered the idea of a hand, and trembling Orai looked to Iaro.

Iaro desperately did not want to scan anymore of the thoughts around him. Not Damira's, not his brother's, and most definitely not the nothing's. But his brother was reaching out. And he would not let his brother down.

He sat up, leaning back into Damira's touch, shielding tighter than he ever had before.

"I don’t want to feel like that ever again."

His voice was low but firm, betraying none of the horror he’d felt.

"I can arrange that," the nothing said.

"I wasn’t talking to you!" Iaro snapped. To Orai, he asked, "Do you trust it?"

Orai was surprised to find the answer was yes.

"Its been with dad for a long time. That's a stupidly long con, if its goal is to harm us now."

Iaro frowned, still not quite ready to unclench.

"Damira? Khat? Any insight?"

Damira smoothed his hair back, feeling her spine straighten as she looked at the darkness.

Her voice low and even, she told Iaro, "If it intended harm to any of us, it would be stupid to intend it on a literal island of our power."

The shadow radiated pleasure and pride.

"Very good, little fish. You should hold onto this one, son of my tether. She's very wise--and very hot."

Iaro grit his teeth so hard they cracked.

"If you speak out of turn one more time I will blast you back into the oblivion from which you first crawled."

Dominion was definitely his brother's gift rather than his own, but Iaro knew his words were not empty. "Son of my tether" was weird, and formal. In it's own way, the nothing was... what? Offering fealty? Trying to sink new tethers? He didn’t care. He would banish this thing and not feel at all bad. He did not like this thing.

Orai reached out, brushing Iaro's arm. Iaro flinched, scales bursting out at the touch. But that action helped soothe him, helped balance out his uncharacteristic display of temper.

"Ia, please. What about dad?"

What about dad indeed. He was mythically old, supposedly. Looking at this darkness, he could believe it. But he also knew if this wretched thing was the only thing keeping his father alive, then better he fall than be sustained by such wrongness.

But it would break Ruby’s heart, and destroy Orai's trust in him. For that, he would let the shadow remain.

But the shadow didn’t need to know that.

"Dad's got plenty of tricks that have nothing to do with this thing." He shot a glare towards the shadow. "Isn’t that right?"

"Exactly so, eijye."

Iaro growled. "Don’t mock me. But thank you for holding your peace. Show us your good faith by taking the memories and nothing more."

"As his father's heir commands."

Orai waited for Iaro to move first. But apparently his suddenly commanding brother was going to watch the shadow for any tricks. Fine then. The sooner Orai was free of this Seeing, the better.

Orai reached for the nothing, and felt a distinct Something, but nothing his mortal mind could name. Still, he was utterly and acutely aware of the thing taking, of a real and quantifiable quality leaving his being. And he was all the better for it. His breath came easier, his body felt lighter, and the air tasted sweeter, almost a tingling quality of delicate starlight kissing his skin. He looked up and saw the stars dancing above him, winking and singing in their endless joy.

"Much better," the shadow murmured. "Such wonderment is more fit this place. I quite approve of your solution for the waste magic, by the way."

"You've said as much," Iaro spit out. More tenderly, he asked his brother, "Rai? You good?"

Orai nodded, feeling the coolness of open tears streaming down his face. He hadn't realized how awful he felt until it was gone. How awful he’d been feeling, for a very, very long time.

He looked to the shadow.

"How far back did you go?"

Iaro's head snapped to the thing, but Orai held out an arm to stop him. The shadow seemed to nod.

"Very shrewd, brother of the heir. I could make the effort to speak plainly, but I have thought in riddles for so long, and it takes much of my attention simply to be here while the father is yet awake."

"Answer the question," Iaro insisted. He didn’t like the nuance of this things phrasing at all.

"Of course. Memory it was named but not memory of the sort called by yellow scales. I lifted the memory of your father's taint, o brother of the heir. And if you so wish it of me, he who speaks with the air of his fathers, I will lift if from you as well."

Iaro was about to order it to speak plainly, but again, Orai bid him hold.

"You mean like a lingering effect, something that ties us to you or the Dai or whatever, inherited from our father's half of the magic."

The shadow nodded. "Just so, my tether's son. It is the greatest thing that connects us, so it has the loudest pull. By your leave, I took the stain of it back into myself, from whence it came. Your magic and person is now free of it."

Iaro gave a soft gasp of understanding.

"That's what drew Damira to me, to us. We shared the magic of Dreaming, and Orai and I shared magic to command the stain."

The shadow clapped in delight. Orai thought he almost saw it do it. Almost.

"Very good, heir of my tether. Well sussed. You have an eye for threads."

Iaro frowned but didn't say anything.

“So what do we do?” Orai asked. Though whether he was asking it of the shadow or his brother, he wasn’t sure.

Iaro’s frown deepened. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean…” There was no delicate way to put this. “If that’s what made this all work, what happens when it’s gone?”

[windstormwielding]

{ ooc } Recent trends show that people are very receptive to big, scary, beefy mommies™... so why not come meet the fine lady who raised Kō-boy here? Hadn’t had much of a proper image for her until recently, but then a bunch of things just clicked and fell into place!

I’ll repost all of the below for her own page on the blog at some point, and might soon open her up for interactions as a proper side/request-only muse like Hai’iro Ranmaru. For now though, here’s the rundown! History, abilities, you name it, it’s down there!

–––––––––––––––––

Profile: Ryōhei Yumiko

Name: Ryōhei Yumiko (亮平 由美子)

Birthday: June 26

Race: Soul

Gender: Female

Height: 185.4cm (6′1″)

Weight: 86kg (190 lbs)

Relatives: Ryōhei Kōtarō (Adoptive son)

Previous Profession: Shinigami

Previous Affiliation: Gotei 13, 11th Division

Previous Position: Lieutenant

Theme Song: “Battle Against a True Hero (UNDERTALE OST)” by Toby Fox

— Appearance —

Yumiko is a middle-aged woman with an imposingly broad and burly figure. Her face, while still retaining some youthful beauty to it, is partially disfigured from an accident with her zanpakutō early in her career. Many scars adorn her muscular form from head to toe, gained throughout her time as a battle-hardened soul reaper of the 11th Division. Her hair is auburn red with hints of greying in the present, usually kept long down her back and tied in a ponytail, and her eye colour is hazel.

She is often seen wearing an amigasa and a frayed, dull green kimono to better blend into the foliage, albeit the fabric is bloodstained. In her younger years, she wore a shihakushō, but customized her look into that of a sukeban-style delinquent: she wore her kosode open over her shoulders, tied to her upper body with a red ribbon; she tore off her shitagi sleeves to bare her arms; her Lieutenant’s badge was worn around her left bicep.

(Present Day Faceclaim: Balalaika of Black Lagoon)

— Personality —

Years ago, Yumiko was a foul-tempered spitfire who assisted in keeping the sorry louts of the 11th in line. Strength meant authority within those walls, and there were really only two within the Division who could challenge her might, but she was never one to lord her position over others. Diligent as can be, she often took initiative for leading combat drills to keep her subordinates’ skills sharp. As a member of the 11th, she was a fiercely determined fighter who also relished in the thrills of combat, often using brute force to get the job done, and let her hair down whenever parties were held and drinks flowed. Though she and 3rd Seat Kuruyashiki often butted heads over trivial matters to the point of trading blows, she genuinely respected his strength and character deep down.

While she grew calmer and humbled when she effectively retired, she still holds no patience for any who seeks to do harm unto others weaker than themselves. Yumiko always had a weakness for children, despite the fact that her appearance tend to terrify many, to her dismay. To make up for this, she starkly changes her demeanour into a far more doting personality, sometimes accompanied by a familiar dopey grin that Kōtarō would inherit. She was fiercely protective of him growing up, and, true to her 11th Division training, killed those who dared to threaten her boy’s life without batting an eye or losing sleep.

— History —

In her heyday, up to 410 years before the present, Ryōhei Yumiko lived as a Gotei 13 shinigami, serving as the Lieutenant of the 11th Division. She fit right into the mold of a squad full of melee combatants and was a master with a blade, living and breathing by the three B’s: brawls, bloodshed, and booze. The many scars she accrued over the course of her lifetime each stood as a testament for her love of fighting, as these only grew in number the higher she rose up the ranks.

Unfortunately, her career was cut short come a terrible incident with her Captain. In a bid to further his own swordsmanship as the 6th Kenpachi, Captain Baishin attempted to merge with his own zanpakutō. This fusion, though successful, turned out to be one-way and took a debilitating toll on his mind, causing Kenpachi Baishin to go on a killing rampage that claimed the lives of over 60 seated officers across the Seireitei, including Lieutenants (OVA: The Sealed Sword Frenzy).

Yumiko nearly lost her life in the assault. While she survived, her saketsu and hakusui were pierced during the battle while she burned through her reiryoku. She awoke to several changes in the Gotei 13, chief among them being: her powers have effectively disappeared forever; Kuruyashiki, her 3rd Seat in the 11th, rose to the occasion and donned the Captain’s haori as the 7th Kenpachi during the crisis; and Baishin fled to the world of the living before being sealed away by Kuruyashiki and five other Captains, with two of them not returning home.

Not wanting to sit around for a pity party as she can no longer work within the Seireitei, Yumiko simply left and returned home in North Rukongai. Though her soul reaper powers are gone and she can no longer hear the voice of her zanpakutō, she still had both her fearsome physical strength and her incredible skill with a sword, just as how she always lived and liked it. She never raised her blade against innocent civilians, but many thugs in their attempts to cross her over the years lost their lives.

Around 270 years before the present, Yumiko found a toddler in the thickets of Kusajishi, just passed on from the world of the living. Disgusted that her former comrades would leave him to die within one of the worst districts for a child to be in, she sought to foster him and take him up to some family in a better-off district closer towards the Seireitei. However, she quickly found herself endeared to him when she realized he wasn’t scared of her at all, clinging to her with not one scream of fear or protest at the sight of her. She then decided to take him in as her son and gave him a name of his own: Ryōhei Kōtarō (亮平 康太郎).

Yumiko doted on and sheltered the boy as best she could over the years. Putting her years of fighting experience to use, she strove to teach her son the way of the sword. This was not only so that he may stand an actual chance by himself in the sticks of the Soul Society, but because she knew from his persisting hunger that one day soon, Kōtarō too might follow in her footsteps as a shinigami.

After he finally left for the Academy, she took to wandering the Soul Society proper, but would still come back to Kusajishi on the occasion he should ever visit.

— Powers & Abilities —

Expert Swordsman: As a Lieutenant of the 11th Division, Yumiko's talent in Zanjutsu was almost unrivalled back in her prime. Though her skills dulled with time and little worthy foes to fight out in the boonies, she still managed to garner a menacing reputation that kept her feared by many in North Rukongai. She passed on much of her knowledge in the combat art down to her son, who later became a worthy swordsman in his own right.

Expert Hand-to-Hand Combatant: Yumiko supplemented her swordsmanship with grappling, throws, and boxing, where her larger size and superior strength come into play. In the past, she often resorted to fighting with her bare fists while her active Shikai was locked into its sheath.

Enhanced Strength, Endurance, & Durability: Kōtarō looks up to Yumiko and calls her the strongest woman he knows; that’s not just him being cute, as he means that quite literally. She built up much of her strength over her long tenure as a shinigami in the most combat-intensive Division of them all, capable of lifting and cleaving boulders that are heavier and larger than herself with relative ease. Her body proved resilient enough to not only survive attacks from a crazed Baishin-zanpakutō fusion, while other seated officers in her position—including fellow Lieutenants—perished, but hold him off solo for some time despite her wounds and failing powers.

— Former Powers & Abilities —

Great Spiritual Power: As a former Lieutenant of the Gotei 13, Yumiko once possessed a considerable amount of reiryoku. Her reiatsu was coloured light blue, and her exerting her spiritual pressure made the surrounding area more humid.

Kidō Practitioner: Having attended Shin’ō Academy, Yumiko proved to have little aptitude for magic. The loss of her powers only took away what little capability for Kidō she had.

Shunpō Expert: Yumiko was surprisingly agile for her bulk and quite fast among her peers, able to keep pace with her old Captain who was himself well-versed in Hohō. While she now lacks the power to use such techniques, she still retains some valuable footwork lessons and continues to apply them toward her swordplay.

Zanpakutō: Yūgiri (夕霧, Evening Mist) resembles a normal katana in its sealed state, with a grey hilt and raindrop-shaped tsuba, and its scabbard came with a clip that kept the blade notched. Though Yumiko can no longer call on its power, she took her blade with her nonetheless when she absconded from the Seireitei, and concealed its distinct appearance by binding its hilt and tsuba in cloth. Yūgiri hangs by her hip. Its release command was “Billow!” (畝れ! Unere!).

Shikai: When transformed, Yūgiri’s blade hollowed out with small holes dotted along its length, gathering moisture from the surrounding area to empower its steel with super-heated steam and scald her enemies. Yumiko used the mist as a smokescreen, and often sheathed her active weapon to compress and build up power within its scabbard for mortal draw techniques, such as steam blades.   Yūgiri’s signature technique, Jyōki Bakusatsu (蒸汽爆炸, Steam Eruption) was the end result of storing up so much pressure, that it creates a steam explosion with extreme heat and force from the sheath once her blade is drawn. The first time Yumiko used this move proved reckless, resulting in the facial burn injury.  

Bankai: Not achieved.

[yodawgiherd]

Show, Don't Tell pt.2

>>>Read on AO3<<<

Rejoice! Because we once again got a continuation of fanart that is literally EVERYTHING. Check it out check it out ----> https://twitter.com/AnnLuVazzel/status/1396084472450269185/photo/1 *cocks gun* this is not a request. Anyway - I promised a second part if things went down and they DID so, here you guys go. Rating - E, but did you really expect anything else? 🤨

“No, you don’t have to, I got it.”

Mikasa blinked a few times, unsure if she heard him correctly.

“… You do?”

“Yea, of course.”

Taking the ball gag back from her, Eren put it around his neck and….

Closed it, letting the red rubber dangle in the hollow of his throat.

“Mikasa, this is one of your chokers, right?”, he tapped the ball, “Why have I never seen you using it?”

“T-That’s not…”

Oh god, she could feel the sweat running down her skin. How could he be so clueless? So innocent? So…

Cute. Damn it all but he’s so cute, Mikasa wanted to bite into his neck just to leave a mark on that untarnished boy.

Unaware that he just sent his girlfriend’s mind to the gutter, Eren looked in the small mirror Mikasa kept on her nightstand, admiring the new “choker” around his neck.

“If I’m being honest, I definitely prefer those you wear normally. Even the one with spikes is better than this, I guess that the ball in front is a bit of a revolutionary design but the red clashes with black too much, and…”

“Babe.”, unable to take it anymore, Mikasa got his attention with that single word, “That is not a choker.”

“No?”, frowning at the mirror, Eren took a step back, fingering the toy, “Then… What is it?”

Carefully, she reached out to undo the buckle on Eren’s neck, retrieving the thing. At the same time, Mikasa’s mind was racing because this explanation had to be both accurate and careful if she wanted her boyfriend to give it a try – and she really, really wanted him to be open-minded enough.

Here goes nothing.

“It’s a gag.”, she said, pulling back while the mentioned toy dangled between her fingers.

“Like… a joke?”, Eren’s eyebrows furrowed, “I don’t get it.”

For understandable reasons Mikasa felt like facepalming but managed not to. She was a strong woman.

“No – a gag like a thing that prevents you from speaking.”

“Oh… “

“…. Yea.”

“Ok, this might sound weird,”, Eren scratched the back of his head, “but is it normal for girls to have these lying around?”

Fine, if that’s how he wanted to play it.

“But of course! Next to make-up and lipstick, every girl has a few gags just rolling around the place. This design? it’s all the rage lately.”

She stared at him with a challenge in her eyes, but the wide innocent look in Eren’s eyes didn’t go away. He wasn’t joking, she realized, he meant every word. Oh, Satan.

“Really?”, he squeaked, the onslaught of information about the fair gender hard to digest.

“No.”, Mikasa deadpanned, “They don’t.”

“Then… why?”

She sucked in a breath, mentally steeling herself.

“I have it because I use it as a sex toy. I like it, I like toys and stuff, you could say that I’m…”

She hated that word she hated that word she hated that word - so much.

“…. Kinky.”

“Miki I’m sorry but I never heard that in my life.”

Mikasa, who was torn between slapping him for being so ignorant and kissing him for being so cute, let out a long breath. Cinnamon roll, he was a cinnamon roll.

“It’s, how do I say it, I prefer having some assistance in bed from sex toys such as this gag.”, she held it up, “I enjoy it more than vanilla.”

Eren’s face was slowly but steadily becoming red, because talking about sex stuff was too much for his normie brain, but he held on, doing his best to decipher the cryptic info Mikasa was sending his way.

“Uhm, so you want me to use ice cream in bed?”

“What?!”

Well, not that Mikasa would be opposed to it, temperature play was great and all but where did he…

Oh.

The vanilla.

“I didn’t mean vanilla as flavor.”, she explained patiently, “Vanilla sex means normal one, without any toys and stuff.”

“Okay, okay, I get it now.”, he grimaced, “ I think at least.”

“All right…”

“One more thing – when you said that you like using toys in bed, does that mean that you have more than this,”, he pointed at the red ball, “thing?”

Babe, if you only knew.

“I do have several,”, Mikasa confessed, “but I think that it would be best if we moved at a slow pace, no need to put them all to use at once.”

He nodded and she felt a weight fall off her shoulders. If Eren saw the strap-on she was hiding in the lowest drawer he would be out of the door and gone from her life faster than a diving bird. Not that she ever used it, only admired herself wearing it in the mirror a few times, but the design was cool and they had a sale for it once so…

Maybe she would get the opportunity to bust it out one day.

Not now though, now was the time for the most basic of stuff - slow and steady wins the race to better and more fulfilling sex life. Now to the most important question.

“Eren, I want you to know that me liking this stuff doesn’t mean that you have to be into it too. I won’t pressure you into anything, nor demand that you do something that makes you uncomfortable – that’s not how this thing works.”

He was listening all right, his eyes in that mode that betrayed eating up every word.

“This lifestyle – I would like if you shared it with me, or gave it a try at least, but it has to be consensual from your side.”, she went on, “If you don’t want to I can just stash this thing and we can forget about this incident. I promise that I won’t bring it up.”

All right then, decision time. Eren had never seen anything like this in his life but couldn’t say that he was repulsed by it. This darker, kinky she said, side fit Mikasa perfectly, her visage screamed that she was special and that was in part why he found her so attractive in the first place.

No, he wasn’t disgusted by this – not excited either but he was curious. Curious and hopelessly in love with the girl, which meant that Eren was more than willing to give this thing a try. All things considered, it wasn’t like Mikasa was going to make him sign some binding contract, if it turned out that he truly cannot handle this side of her they would stop, easy as that.

“I’ll be honest, I don’t know the first thing about this, as you probably noticed.”, he began slowly, “But I am down to try it if you are willing to teach me.”

Was she willing to teach him? No. She was itching to do it – but let’s move slow for now…

“Okay, great!”, was covering about ten percent of all the excitement that was now bubbling in Mikasa’s chest, but it would do, “Let’s start with some basic – first of all, if you want me to stop at anything I will do, just say “Red”, okay?”

“Okay.”

“If you will be unable to speak, we will figure out a different way.”, she held up the gag, “Which is fitting because we will be starting with this.”

Eren was all-ears. Figuratively.

He nodded at her, and Mikasa began the first lesson.

“As I said before, ball gag serves to silence the submissive – in this case – you. It gives the dominant, me, power over the other party, and by taking away your ability to speak it also “reduces” the sub to a plaything for the dom.”

“I’ll assume that sub is short for submissive?”

“Yes Eren, I wasn’t talking about sandwiches here.”

“Just making sure.”, he murmured.

“That’s good! Ask about anything you want, curiosity is good. Any other questions?”

“Did you ever do this with someone else?”

“No? I told you, you are my first boyfriend.”

“Then, did you ever use this?”, he pointed at the gag.

“Well, sometimes I use it on myself when I… you know…”

Despite her best efforts, Eren’s eyes remained clueless.

“Masturbate.”, she said out loud, finally igniting that spark of knowledge, “Now, anything else?”

“What’s the worst thing you’ve done?”

“What do you mean?”

“I imagine that since you were working solo till now, you didn’t get many chances to try stuff out.”, wasn’t that the truth, Mikasa thought to herself as Eren continued, “So – what is the weirdest of kinkiest thing you’ve done?”

Hmmm. Oh!

“I once wore rope to school.”

“Huh?”

“Do you remember that day, like a month back, when I was all bothered and wouldn’t talk much?”

“You normally don’t talk much.”

“Fine, less than usual then.” she waved her hand, “I also didn’t want you to walk me home after classes.”

He tapped his chin a few times.

“I remember, I thought that I angered you somehow.”

“You didn’t, but I had a rope harness on me for a whole day so I needed to take it off as soon as possible.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s like – rope wrapped around your body in places that makes you feel it when you move. My boobs and inner thighs and stuff.”

He blinked a few times.

“Wow, that sounds intense.”

“It was, mostly because I pulled it too tight.”, she gave him a small smile, “I may be more experienced than you but I’m far from being a pro.”

Add that to the pile of things he was learning about his girlfriend.

“Anything else you want to know?”, she asked.

Satisfied, for now, Eren shook his head.

“Very well, in that case we will move to the practical part.”, she stepped close to him, holding the gag in front of his face,” Open your mouth…”

He did so, a bit surprised when she put the red ball between his teeth. After that came the strap that was buckled behind his head, and before Eren realized what was happening he couldn’t talk.

“Mmmmm.”, was his reaction.

“See? Useful gadget isn’t it.”

“Mmm.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Now while Eren was getting used to having a ball gag in his mouth, Mikasa had mental work to do. In her mind, she went through the list of items that were hidden in her room, picking out those that wouldn’t freak out her boyfriend too much. Whips, paddles, and canes were ruled out for now, so were the candles and ice. Ropes took too long to set up, vibrators, dildos, and magic wands were scary…

No need to complicate things.

Passing Eren who was still caught in his battle against the ball gag, Mikasa rummaged through the nightstand and pulled out two more items. A blindfold and a pair of leather cuffs connected by a fine silver chain - this would be more than enough for now.

Turning towards Eren, she gestured to the back of his head and luckily he got the message for once, reaching there and unbuckling the gag from his mouth. Showtime.

Holding the toys in a way that Eren would notice them, Mikasa posed that one simple question she needed an answer for.

“Do you trust me?”

“I-… Well…”

If there was one thing that Eren didn’t expect to happen when he woke up in the morning it would be this – standing in the middle of his girlfriend’s bedroom with Mikasa right in front of him, leather cuffs dangling from her finger and a blindfold in the other hand, that damn question on her black lips.

Did he trust her?

Of course, but this was not something he ever saw himself doing. To say that Eren was vanilla would be an understatement, he was like a snow-white sheet of paper, so pure and normal.

Maybe that was why Mikasa wanted to ruin him so much.

She saw him suck in a breath, eyes wandering over what she was holding. Unlike the gag, it was quite easy to get what these two were used for even without her explanation, that was partly the reason why she chose them. Talking about it was fun and all, but the action itself….

That was where the true fun began.

“I trust you.”, those three words left Eren’s lips and Mikasa was in heaven.

“In that case let’s do this thing.”, she took the gag back, completing her collection.

“Starting now I am your mistress and you are my slave-…”, nah that didn’t feel right, “Let’s stick with sub.”

For some reason, that made him giggle.

“Something funny?”

A snort.

“Sandwich.”

Fine, keep up with the lame jokes Eren, let’s see how much you like being punished for them.

“You will obey my orders without question, and in turn I promise not to do anything you won’t like.”, she nodded at the toys, “I will use these on you and nothing else, and we will have a safeword for me to stop if you want to – “Red” if you can speak and if not just knock on the headboard three times. Got it?”

“Yes.”

Ah, first offense.

“That sentence is missing something…”, she half-corrected him.

Eren looked at her for a moment before he got it, even deeper blush on his face.

“Yes, mistress.”, he murmured, embarrassed.

“Good boy.”

Those words flew out of Mikasa’s mouth before she caught them, but as soon as they left she didn’t want to take it back anymore. They fit.

“Now – take off your shirt.”

“Uhm, you sure? I mean….”

“Eren, what did I say about questioning my orders?”

“S-Sorry.”, a raised eyebrow from her was enough this time, “Sorry m-mistress.”

“Good. Let’s try again –“, Mikasa made her voice more confident, hoping to get that “dominant” vibe across,  “Take off your shirt.”

Lips pressed together Eren obeyed her command, pulling the simple black t-shirt over his head.

“Now your pants.”

“I-“.

“Pants. Off. Now.”

Now it was teeth that Eren had to press together to cage the words in, but he did so. This new dominant Mikasa was doing things to him, things that he didn’t know his mind was capable of but one truth was clear. He was enjoying this, that much was obvious from the way her words tingled his spine and of course the reaction that his… pride … was having – one that was immediately visible to them both when Eren slid his jeans down and kicked them away.

An erection? This fast? Now that was something Mikasa liked to see. Not only because she was horny, but mostly because it meant that Eren was also liking this little game. Very nice, let’s continue.

Dumping the rest of the toys on the bed, for now, Mikasa motioned for him to come closer. When he did, she took hold of one of his wrists and closed the cuff around it, repeating the process with Eren’s other hand after. The chain connecting them was short, giving him a tiny bit more freedom than classic handcuffs, but the leather was much gentler to the skin than the steel.

“Is this okay?”, she asked him, watching Eren tug at his hands with a strange expression.

He was cuffed, hands tied together. Yet another experience that Eren never had in his life and for good reasons only – he was a good boy, a good student and never had the pleasure of being escorted in a cop's car. Make no mistake, he was still arrested right now, but his jailer filled his head with dirty thoughts instead of worry. That was good, so good that the cuffing thing didn’t feel half bad.

It felt… good. Kind of

“Yea I’m fine. Mistress.”

Saved it.

There he was, shirtless, pantless, and handcuffed, standing at the foot of her bed and Mikasa had to hold herself back from jumping at him right here and there. Patience.

“Lay down on your back,”, she instructed him, “I’m going to put the rest of the stuff on you.”

Obeying her order while she retrieved the toys, Eren slid down on the jet-black sheets of Mikasa’s bed. It was comfortable as always but the added novelty of having his hands restricted overrode that information successfully. She leaned over him, holding the blindfold.

“Put your hands above your head and keep them there.”, she commanded him, and he obeyed with a slight clink of the chain. Seeing that her orders were fulfilled, Mikasa raised the blindfold “I’m going to use this on you now, okay?”

A nod.

“Good, raise your head a little bit…”

The black material slid over his face and Eren couldn’t see anything anymore. She waited for a moment while he adjusted to the sudden darkness, before moving onto the last thing which would be used today.

“Open your mouth.”

He did so, but the rubber didn’t appear. Instead of that Mikasa’s fingers pushed into his mouth, her nails dragging against Eren’s tongue. He could feel her rings too, the cold metal contrasting with the warm skin as she pushed the digits deeper.

“You have no idea how long I wanted to do this.”, a heated whisper from the right, “To be able to play with you like this.”

Even deeper they went and Eren gagged slightly around the slender fingers. In response to that she scissored them, forcing his jaw wide open and at the same time her other hand moved, attacking the place where he was weakest. Palm rubbed against Eren’s raging hard-on, pressing down and giving the thing an over-the-cloth massage.

The sudden contact made him moan around her fingers, and Mikasa’s black lips split into a huge grin. Good, good, come to the dark side.

“I promise that you’ll enjoy this,” she whispered, “so don’t be afraid. Or be afraid, but just a tiny bit.”

He gurgled something around the fingers in his throat that resembled “Okay.”

As suddenly as they were in they were out, letting Eren gasp for breath and…

Be slapped from the left, a flare of pain appearing in his cheek. Before he could react the same flare happened from the right and now he was equally slapped from both sides.

“Wh-“, was all he managed before yet another thing found its way into his mouth, this time it was Mikasa’s tongue.

The kiss was more of an assault on Eren’s mouth. He didn’t control it in the slightest, had no agenda at all, simply gasped and moaned while Mikasa ravaged his mouth with her tongue and teeth. Dirty and messy was the best way to describe it, but Eren had no intention of ever complaining – why would he when her tongue gliding against his felt so good?

It got even better because Mikasa’s hand was back, this time at Eren’s throat. Slightly she squeezed the sides, restricting the flow of air, and combined with the deep kiss he was lightheaded sooner than expected. Just as he wasn’t handcuffed before, being choked was a new and exciting experience.

Eren never felt this way before while Mikasa kissed him, but the blindfold and handcuffs and chokehold on his neck made it an otherworldly experience. It was different from the simple pleasure he usually found in her lips, a way darker and deeper feeling, but he loved it the same if not more.

Just as his brain was running out of oxygen to keep functioning, Mikasa pulled back and released the restricting squeeze. A breath of fresh air was gulped down Eren’s lungs while she admired the way her lipstick was smudged all over his face now.

Let’s not dawdle on that, they still had plenty of ground to cover.

“I’m going to gag you now.”, she announced, not waiting for an answer.

Eren did have the safeword if he wanted to get out, and god knows that it was the last thing he desired at that moment.

Mikasa’s fingers were back between his kiss-swollen lips and she wrenched his mouth open, popping the red rubber ball in after. The straps were secured behind his head with a practiced hand and that was it – he was now completely at her mercy.

Now, this was a perspective Mikasa adored. She was sitting on the edge of the bed fully clothed, even her rings were on for Satan’s sake, while Eren squirmed beneath her. Hands cuffed above his head, eyes covered by a blindfold, a red ball gag between his lips.

Oh yea, it was all coming together.

Deciding that sitting on the bed was not appropriate for this position, Mikasa climbed onto Eren instead and seated herself on his lap. There, this was much better, especially considering that she could feel his hardness strain against her inner thigh. Her move was accompanied by yet another “Mmm” from her victim, a sound she liked very much.

Apart from Mikasa’s weight on him Eren had no way of tracking her, couldn’t say what would come next. She may have not tied his hands to the bed but she ordered him to keep them above his head, and her word was as strong as any chain. He couldn’t see her, he couldn’t talk to her, and hearing was also rather impaired because of the rush of blood in Eren’s ears. Truly helpless beneath her, all he could do was wait for what his mistress would grace him with. And then it came-

Nothing serious, just a simple touch, as Mikasa placed her hand on Eren’s chest, right above the heart. Still, in a state that Eren was in it was enough to make his whole body jolt.

“Easy there,”, she murmured, “I promised that I won’t hurt you.”

The slap didn’t count. Why? Because she said so.

Trailing her fingers up she patted his cheek in a small show of affection.

“You look so good like this.”, she stroked his face, “My Dark Knight, so good for me, so open and vulnerable…”

Vulnerable was a strange choice of a word, but when Eren tried to question it the gag came into play.

“Mmmmm.”, was all he could make, followed by a shaky inhale.

Mikasa wouldn’t hurt him, she said so… Would she? Ehm…

Abandoning his cheek Mikasa’s hand went exploring downward, her touch alone sending Eren’s brain into overdrive. When a human body is robbed of its senses, it tends to sharpen the remaining ones – this meant that his skin felt super sensitive right now, and the little path Mikasa was doing with her nails made him squirm and sweat beneath her. Didn’t help that her weight was pressed against his achingly hard length.

Tap-tap-tap, down her playful fingers went, doing nothing more than touching and occasionally scratching a little. Over the planes of his chest and there Mikasa found the first point of interest. Eren gasped out loudly through the gag when she tweaked his nipple, a small tremor running through his body.

“Sensitive? Good.”

Putting her other hand to work Mikasa tweaked both at the same time now, getting a heartfelt “Mmm” In return. What a load of fun, and she was regretting her choice of not using the clamps tonight. Oh well, she had other ways to play with Eren’s nipples too.

Ending the hold with a pinch on each one she leaned forward to press a kiss to the side of Eren’s neck. She should get him a choker of his own, Mikasa reasoned In her head, or even better – a collar to show who he truly belonged to. Not very realistic considering that they were only beginning this journey but hey. A girl can dream.

Exchanging lips for teeth she bit down on his flesh while her fingers once again assaulted his sensitive nubs, torturing her boy to the best of her ability. With no toys at her disposal, as she didn’t bring them in for a reason, her body was the only device she could use. Then again, from the way Eren sweated and cursed into the gag, it was working well.

Biting into the neck was a lot of fun, especially considering that Eren didn’t fight back, and Mikasa didn’t move on until he had a solid collection of black – from her lipstick – and red – from the teeth – all over the skin. Changing into her gentle mode she began kissing her way down over his chest, following the same way her fingers took, which meant that she arrived at the same destination in the end.

The nipples, tortured and abused by her cruel hands were soothed when Mikasa’s tongue gently lapped over the pain. And it felt good, great even, the content sigh leaving Eren’s throat on its own. It made her giggle, just how naïve her Dark Knight was.

The pleasure changed into pain at a moment's notice because now teeth were clamping down on his nipple, forcing Eren’s body to trash around some more. Pain was a great teacher, but Mikasa shouldn’t be overdoing this. There would be time to play around with that later, once they are more comfortable with this whole setting.

Then again…

She did abandon his nipples, after a few more bites, but couldn’t resist the plane of pale skin that made up Eren’s abdomen. That area simply begged to be marked, and Mikasa obliged, dragging her nails over it. Black fingernails created red scratches in their path, and they looked so angry that she had to bow down and soothe the area with a few kitten licks. There, all better?

Oh right, Eren couldn’t talk. What a shame.

This whole journey had a single destination in mind, and Mikasa was finally nearing it. Her pain-and-pleasure train was pulling in the end station, leaving an artistic creation of red and black in its path. What a beautiful canvas Eren’s body was, and Mikasa couldn’t wait to create some real art with wax one day. Or a whip for that matter.

Or maybe something more permanent, a tattoo, if she could convince him….

Back to the present – she reminded herself – there was still a lot to be done. The rest of Eren’s body covered, it was high time to move on to the main prize, a statement that he would very much agree with if he could. Eren did know what foreplay was and did it in the past, but being this ruined without having Mikasa even touch his member was something new. There was a lot of sweat on his skin, tears in the corners of his eyes beneath the blindfold, and the gag had the unfortunate side effect of drooling. He was truly nothing more than Mikasa’s toy right now.

It was a good existence.

Now then - Blowjob was a thing that Mikasa wasn’t very keen on at the start, because how was a girl supposed to find pleasure in sucking a cock? Eren has been the one who broke the barrier of oral sex, and him going down on her was a thing that she cherished. Admittedly he sucked at first but was a very quick learner and eager to please his goth girlfriend. Combine these two and soon Mikasa was enjoying very quality cunnilingus at a healthy rate. She liked French kissing already but having Eren’s tongue between her legs was a much, much better alternative. Not very suitable for public places though. Unless...

More on that later, because enjoying his mouth so often meant that Mikasa’s strong sense of equality bit her in the ass.

Begrudgingly curious, she tried the oral thing too and honestly it wasn’t as bad as she feared. Sure, the taste was nothing to write home about and it gave her nothing apart from a sore throat but there were other benefits to it. It made Eren fall apart at seams very easily and because of how the act was performed it fed her dominant side – she was in charge of his pleasure and could take it away at a moment’s notice.

Now it was even better.

Tied up, blind and mute he was her plaything. When Mikasa’s mouth slide over his stretched boxers, kissing the length that strained against the cloth, Eren let out a whine of a dying animal. His underwear had a wet spot at the head, and she made sure to kiss that more than once, knowing where the sensitiveness was.

“Would you like me to take you in my mouth?”

“Mmmm!”

“What was that? I can’t hear you…”

“Mmm.”, Eren trashed above her, mouth working around the gag to make another “Mhhm.”

“Oh well, since you can’t speak I guess I’ll have to decide for myself.”, changing her hold Mikasa let the tips of her fingers drum against the head, “Hmmm, what am I going to do with you…”

Eren gave up on “mmm-ing” for now, knowing that she would just make fun of him for it and fell back to his previous tactic which was praying silently and hoping that Mikasa won’t do anything too cruel. For once luck was on his side.

“I guess that I can give it a try.”, she decided, tugging his boxers out of the way and throwing them somewhere in the room. Now he was fully naked beneath her while Mikasa didn’t take a single piece of clothing off. Domination, what a magical activity.

Finally uncovered, Eren’s length was now standing at full mast, begging for attention that Mikasa didn’t know if she wanted to give. Seeing the head glisten so much just from the foreplay did make her happy though. The process of converting her vanilla Dark Knight into a “Darker” one was going along swimmingly.

Ever the tease Mikasa took her time in kissing and biting the sensitive skin of Eren’s crotch, completely ignoring the erect part in the middle. Only when the whines from above grew truly desperate did she grace it with a look.

Just to see the reaction and because she wanted to Mikasa's finger flicked the glistening part, causing a flair of pain to shoot up in Eren’s brain. Look, nipples are sensitive but it's nothing compared to this, and he gave it the appropriate reaction by the tension that appeared in his legs and the protesting noise.

Too bad, because Mikasa found it fun.

Grabbing the length and angling it to the side she sank her teeth into it instead, and that was quite something. The muffled scream amused her greatly, especially knowing that it wasn’t so bad because she didn’t put much force behind the bite. To his credit – Eren didn’t move his hands from where they lay, fisting the bedding instead. In a corner of his mind he was very much aware of the fact that should he disobey Mikasa the punishment could be severe – even worse than this small innocent bite.

Seeing that he didn’t protest or fight back, she decided that it was a time for a reward. The carrot and stick analogy worked only if there was some carrot to balance out the stick. Closing her mouth around the head she sucked on it lightly, moving her hand up and down over the rest of his length.

It was amazing, and if Eren would be pressed he would confess that it was even more amazing than usual. Mikasa, during their relationship, did the thing she always did – set her mind on becoming good at literally anything and fulfilled that. Her blowjobs evolved from okay to fucking great to oh my god I could die right now and I would go as a happy man. That was the one Eren was getting, and combined with how restrained his body was?

Perfection.

All the pain and suffering Mikasa put him through was instantly worth it and he would go through it again and again just to feel this – the way her tongue toyed with the head, how she swallowed around his length to ease the passage down into the throat.

It was a test of Mikasa too because she really wanted to push her finger up Eren’s ventilation shaft – if you catch her meaning. But no, jamming your digit into your partner’s ass is a dick move if done without consent, plus it was something they had to work towards first. One day she would claim that place too, but not today. Eren was already giving her so much, there was no need to push his boundaries.

To prevent herself from doing something she would regret Mikasa occupied her hand differently, by sliding it into her underwear. She was wet, understandably so, and her fingers slid nicely along her opening. As her mouth slid down his length so did her digits found their way inside herself.

Dividing her attention between the blowjob and her own pleasure, Mikasa worked them both up to a nicely excited state but not too much – she didn’t want either of them to finish right now. With a few more swallows around him she let Eren in deep, the tip bumping the back of her throat and forcing a gag reflex. Not one to give up she fought against it, managing to deepthroat him in a few tries.

So low she went that Mikasa’s nose brushed over the pubic hair in the region, giving him as much space as she physically could. The pleasured groaning from above was worth it, and tilting her head she could see the trail of drool running down Eren’s chin, proof of just how much control he was losing over his body. She liked that, and it made the place between her legs tingle. Okay, that should be good enough. With a pop Mikasa pulled the fingers from her wetness, intent on finally getting on with the show.

But not before playing with Eren’s balls for a bit.

Forcing herself to stop after a while, Mikasa pulled back and straightened her back, not minding the spit that was now smeared all over him. Fishing a condom from her nightstand and reminding herself for like a hundredth time that she has to look into other forms of anti-conception because she wanted Eren to do her raw, Mikasa tore the packet open with the teeth. The implant thing looked good as a long-term solution, or maybe some pills so she could…

Another “mmm” from Eren reminded her that she should focus on the task at hand.

“Relax babe,”, she praised him a little, “I got you.”

With a movement that she learned from practicing on bananas, Mikasa rolled the condom over his length in one swift movement. She could do that with her mouth too, but since Eren was blindfolded there was no reason to use that now – no one to impress.

The next step was to prepare herself, so the goth pushed the – at this point quite soaked – panties down her legs, kicking them away. Unlike Eren she was still fully clothed, and that gave her a feeling of power Mikasa enjoyed. No other piece needed to be removed, because she was wearing a skirt and her fishnet stockings ended at the upper thighs, held in place by garters, meaning that the important part of her body was uncovered.

Or maybe the skirt could go too, it would only get in the way.

Unzipping the short red-and-black piece and throwing it away she moved herself up on the knees, positioning her opening above the latex-covered head. To tease a little she dragged it against her slit but didn’t let Eren in yet, rubbing it against her clit instead. It felt surprisingly good.

“Mmph.”, from above, a crinkle of the chain as Eren’s hands moved involuntarily.

“Shhh, patience.”

A few more slides had Eren truly groaning into the ball gag, drool leaking from the corner of his lips even more. Okay, enough is enough, it would be a shame for him to tap out now.

“Time for your reward,”, she purred,  “since you behaved so well.”

Grabbing the length and angling it correctly Mikasa sat down, moaning slightly when the tip penetrated her outer lips. She was wet and the condom was lubed, so it went in fairly nicely yet Mikasa still went slow, loving the feeling of total control. Down and up she slid, impaling herself inch by delicious inch, feeling the stretch of her sex as she accommodated the length.

Beneath her, Eren was having the time of his life. Blowjob into sex was an incredible treat, and he was slowly realizing that being a submissive can honestly be pretty damn great. Sure, he was in Mikasa’s power but she was also focused on his needs only. Not that he didn’t enjoy going down on her, because she had a unique taste that he honestly liked, but this was an interesting change of pace. And, if he was being honest with himself, the pain did tingle a part of his brain that Eren didn’t know he had.

Ever since they broke the “intimate” barrier and started having sex, Mikasa enjoyed the cowgirl position. Riding Eren gave her the control she enjoyed, same as with the blowjob, and unlike that activity this gave her pleasure as well. He was far from complaining about it too, as Mikasa on top was an amazing experience – not only because of the feeling but the sight too. Her sitting on top of his hips, those amazing mouth-watering abdominals jerking back and forth or up and down, pleasuring both him and herself by their connection. He loved when she touched herself while being on top, rubbing her clit in rapid tiny circles, did his best to assist her too. He loved that uncontrollable spasms of her muscles once Mikasa got close, leaning back to grab onto his thighs as she rode him to their completion. He loved it when she tilted her face up, hair fanning behind her head like a midnight curtain, moaning out loud.

Yup, amazing.

The blindfold unluckily robbed Eren of such a sight right now, but the loss of senses meant that everything he felt now was that more intense. Which was nothing short of amazing, considering that the most sensitive part of his body was squeezed in a vice-like grip of Mikasa’s sex, parting wet and hot walls as she kept sliding down and down.

And then she was fully seated on his hips, taking a moment to catch her breath. The stretch was there, and despite being delightful Mikasa had to move a bit to make her body truly appreciate it. For now, she was only feeling full, too full maybe as he was quite well endowed. So, after a small breather, Mikasa began sliding back and forth, stretching herself.

The sliding changed into circles, her hips knowing what to do automatically at this point. Small, then bigger ones, she circled until the unpleasantness trickled away. Stretched out and ready Mikasa moved on to the next part of her plan.

Up and high she went, almost too high as Eren’s length was taken away from its warm happy place, an act that he didn’t appreciate. With a needy “mmm” from his gagged mouth, hips moved in chase of hers, trying to place himself back into that amazing muscled sheath. Normally this would be okay, as Mikasa appreciated when he tried helping her riding him, but tonight was not a normal night.

“Down.”, she growled, her hand pushing at Eren’s abdomen with that unnatural strength her lean body possessed, “No moving.”

Forced back into the mattress, Eren whined in protest but obeyed. To remind him of her dominance, Mikasa leaned forward until her face was right in front of his. Taking a hold of Eren’s chin she forced his head to stay still – gazing into the place where his emerald eyes were, hidden beneath the blindfold.

“I said,”, her hot breath washed over Eren’s face when she spoke, “Stay still.”

There was still a little rebellion in the creak on his forehead, and Mikasa wanted an obedient sub tonight.

“If you disobey me again I will stop completely, get off of you, pull out my vibrator and then all you can do is listen to me moan while I make myself cum.”, she threatened him, “Understood?”

Eren’s nostrils flared when he breathed, his fucked-out brain filling with the dread this course of action would cause. Being kept on the edge was one thing but edging without a happy ending was not an experience Eren would like. A defeated “Mmm.”, left his gagged mouth, indicating his full surrender.

Like the kind mistress she was, Mikasa patted his cheek again.

“Good boy.”

And then she was leaning backward – ready to take her cowgirl to the next level. Hands anchored on Eren’s thighs, feet found purchase on her black bedding and slowly yet surely Mikasa was striking a tempo again. Slowly was the right word because she started very slow, testing if Eren would truly obey her. Once more she went up, unsheathing him from herself almost completely, and waited at the top. To her pleasant surprise there was no reaction apart from the little whine. It would appear that Eren had been truly broken.

Very well then.

With no need to test him anymore and more than ready to go at it Mikasa began riding him in the earnest. Up and down, up and down, up and down. The bed creaked beneath them, the slaps of her ass into his hips loud in the room. The gag that until now was only robbing Eren of the ability to speak was useful for once because he could sink his teeth into it. Close, he was very close but finishing before Mikasa would be disrespectful to all the work she did, and he clenched his muscles to hold himself back.

Realizing how on edge Eren was, Mikasa slid one hand down to rub at her clit, the wet sounds joining those already produced by his length disappearing into her. And the coil tightened and tightened and tightened, and it was doing so faster than usual because anytime Mikasa opened her eyes she saw this-

Eren beneath her, hands above his head in complete surrender, red lips clenched around the gag and eyes behind a blindfold. Wrists – cuffed together too. The proof of her conquest was everywhere – the scratches on his body, the trail of black lipstick everywhere. The bites were there too, littered all over the skin, and it all culminated into one thing and one thing only.

Finally, they were doing it, moving past the vanilla stage into something Mikasa enjoyed more, and it did wonders to her libido. At the threshold for now but Eren was one foot over, being pulled in by his enchanting girlfriend. Their exploration began here, but where did it end? Well….

The possibilities combined with the pleasure Mikasa was receiving both from her hand and the twitching length inside her and finally keeled her over. The coil snapped and Mikasa gasped loudly, her body going into that strange mode where she had no control of it yet it kept moving. Unable to bounce anymore it resorted back to sliding and it only made the climax that much better.

Eren could hear it because she was loud enough to overcome the rushing blood, and he could most definitely feel it because her sheath collapsed all around him, the walls caving in and squeezing him almost painfully. There were limits to what his body could do and resisting the incredible massage Mikasa’s sex could produce once it was stuck in its climax were far above them.

With yet another long and drawn-out moan Eren came too, emptying himself in the rubber with several jerks of the hips. And then they were still, with Mikasa’s body collapsed on top of his, doing little more than breathing…

….

It wasn’t until a few minutes later that she regained enough control to push herself up and roll away from his body. Mikasa disposed of the condom too before pulling the blindfold from Eren’s eyes. The first thing she noticed were the small tears in the corners of his eyes, but the fear that she’s overdone her first lesson disappeared the moment the gag was pulled out because his mouth formed a huge, immensely satisfied smile.

“So?”, she asked, still nervous about his answer, “Did you like it?”

The nervousness came from several sources- first – this was the first time Mikasa ever dommed anyone other than herself, second – she wanted this to work because she enjoyed it so much. But any feeling of dread was useless because Eren’s answer blew it out of the water.

“Did I like it? I loved it!”

“You did?”

“Yea! That was amazing.”

“Well… good.”

“No, good doesn’t cut it honestly.”, knowing no other way to say thanks, Eren surprised Mikasa with a kiss, one that she happily returned.

“Thank you.”, he whispered against her lips, covered by smudged black lipstick, “I love you even more now that you showed me this.”

“Does that mean that we are doing more in the future?”

The grin was everything Mikasa hoped for.

“You bet.”

But now he was tired, and so was she, and both of them needed a shower. While they both shared sweat and other things, Eren’s body was also covered by black smudges, a reminder of the route Mikasa took to reach that place between his legs.

And honestly? She should finally undress. Oh, and take the cuffs away from Eren’s wrists, that should be done too.

“Shower?”, she asked, getting a quick nod in return.

“After that, can you show me some other toys you have?”

“Damn, this eager?”

“I don’t want to use them! I mean, not yet, but I would like to see what else you have stashed.”

You know what? A small fetish-exploring tour of Mikasa’s collection was a better plan for the night than watching a movie. Yes, even if it was Twilight.

“Sure.”, she agreed, getting up from the bed and pulling Eren up too.

Hand-in-hand they headed towards the bathroom with Mikasa leaving a small trail of clothing behind her. They could always pick them up later, and Levi wasn’t here to chew her out for it.

Luckily.

[worstloki]

Part 1

--[official naming and legal rights ceremony for Morgan]--

Tony: you know what would be really funny? Pepper: Tony... Tony: THINK about it Pep- how can you say no to this once in a lifetime opportunity? Pepper: Rhodey and Steve. We already decided. Tony: ok fine. FINE! I'll just give up the chance for our daughter to have two literal powerhouses watching over her Pepper: one of them isn't even alive! Tony, signing the paperwork: he was the dodgy one anyways! Pepper: oh g*d tell me you didn't Tony: too late. our daughter's got 1 thunderer and 1 deceased trickster listed as her ~*godparents*~ and no punishment you come up with will ruin this moment for me Pepper: its fine, this is fine, it wont even be legally binding since you can't have two male godparents listed so its invalid anyways, haha this is fine, everything is fine,,, Tony: i actually heard from Thor that Loki could be female if they wanted... Pepper: ... Pepper: TONY!! -- [later] -- Rhodey: dude did you seriously put LOKI down as a legal guardian for your kid instead of me Tony: well I wanted Thor but he insisted that I put Loki down too... something about honouring Asgardian tradition...? Rhodey: tradition is fine but isn't he DEAD? Tony: sure Thor thought he was dead 5 years ago, then again 4 years ago, and then again 2 years ago... but if he was alive he would have already, statistically speaking, shown up by now Rhodey shaking his head fondly: okay i forgive you for replacing me with Thor and his deceased brother, but the next kid has my name on it. I've already called dibs with no takebacks, okay? Tony: one kid is already keeping me busy enough, honeybear... 

---[3 years later]---

Tony: And. I. Am. Iron Man... *snaps* Thanos' army: *disintegrates* Tony: *taking his last breathes* Pepper: you can rest now... Loki: *shoves Pepper aside and pulls the gauntlet off Tony* Pepper and Rhodey and Peter who were standing around tony: LOKI ?!? Dr Strange: no SToP you cant juST do THAT- Loki, taking out the time stone: why not Dr Strange: if you change anything now it'll ruin the timelines!!! Loki, reversing time on Tony and bringing him back to life: that's not how time works, Dr. Supreme Dr Strange: It’s Strange, and- Loki: Yes, I agree, it is strange that you decided to let Earth's best hero die when literally every infinity stone is rigHT HERE Dr Strange: but its wrong to misuse their pow- Loki: Then it’s a good thing I'm evil and don't care Dr Strange: buT- Loki: no need to worry, I'm only helping you heroes out this one time because apparently while I was stardust Tony chose to give me partial ownership over his child so now i am bound to care for it  Pepper, remembering that Loki is legally Morgan’s godparent: oh my g*d   Rhodey: well, I bet Tony didn't expect this Tony, speaking in his sleep: frickity frackity Loki, looking at Tony disapprovingly: I agree.  --[a week later]-- Tony: okay, so like, i don't want to seem ungrateful for you saving my life, but i only wrote your name down to get Thor - Loki, annoyed: Yes I figured as much Tony: -yes but if you've saved my life I was wondering exactly how bound you are to help and how far you're willing to go to watch over her Loki: does this have anything to do with the 18+ end-of-the-world-celebration party at the end of the week? Tony: maybe Loki: *stares at him* Tony: ...okay, yES… do you think you could make sure Morgan is alive and well and safe while I go? It’s clear you don't appreciate being forced to be her godparent so if you do it I'll even get your name off the legal documentation by the end of the week and you can leave after Loki: If you so much as try to remove my name when it is THOR that has been neglectful of his duty and has been ignoring the implications of having a child under their name then I will have no choice but to hit you over the head with stormbreaker Tony: oh. okay. no name removing then that's cool i guess just please don't smite me or i'll dob to thor that you're going to try touching his shiny axe and have are regressing on your journey to goodness  Loki, pulling stormbreaker out of his pocket dimension: I’m afraid you’re too late to warn him about the potential theft of his favourite beer opener. I will, however, watch Morgan over both days of the party, IF I also get put in charge of the spider child and Wakanda's princess Tony, doing his best to ignore the huge axe: how do you even know about them, weren't you snapped for the past 5 years?? Loki: I understand that they're not allowed to attend the party either and will not have any parents or guardians available to care for them at the time... Tony: you're not going to try any funny business right...? even if you wont hurt Morgan how do i know you wont lay a hand on the others?? I cant just trust you to watch over a bunch of kids no matter how much bruce and thor vouch for your sanity Loki: you can trust I wouldn't risk scarring Morgan like that if you don't trust i wouldn't intentionally attack a bunch of literal children Tony: hmm okay I guess I’ll just cross my fingers and hope you don't relapse into villainy  Loki: wonderful. inform the children that I will pick them up 2 hours before the time of the party. Tony: need me to get you a ride? Peter lives close but Shuri lives just a tad bit out of walking range Loki: no thanks I'll be fine

---[at the party]---

Pepper: YOU LEFT HIM ALONE TO CARE FOR MORGAN?! Tony: he’s been doing a fine job of it while we’re around, and besides, it’s not like I left her with him alone or anything! Pepper: No, of course not Tony, that would be too simple, no, you left LOKI in charge of not JUST our child but also Peter, and the PRINCESS of Wakanda too Pepper: do you have any idea how badly this could work out?! putting aside the political disaster that would occur if something happened to Shuri the ethical considerations alone make strangling you very tempting right now Rhodey: Pepper, Tony would never do anything to put Morgan or Peter or even Shuri in danger... he knows they're kids, right Tony? Tony: Peter can benchpress a mag-lev and Shuri can design one in 60 seconds flat. I’m not concerned because they'll be fine even if he does try to pull off anything even 2% evil! Pepper: *not impressed* Tony: some sort of Asgardian binding magic was involved so he literally cant try to inflict any harm on Morgan, and that includes emotional distress just for the record, believe me, i checked Rhodey: what do you mean 'i checked', what did you do man Tony: Morgan wanted ice pops the other day so i told her to ask Loki Pepper: TONY he's a WAR CRIMINAL Tony: so anyways Morgan went up to the ally we’re kindly hosting - who literally takes residence on whichever couch is closest to Morgan by the way and it’s super funny to watch him move between couches every time she leaves the room - and he's reading when she asks if he'll get an ice pop with her Tony: and I've tried talking to him when he's reading and it does NOT end well Pepper: and you sent MORGAN to do it anyways?? Tony: and he said no at first, which was predictable, right? but then Morgan got sad and a bit teary-eyed and she asked again and when he saw she was sad he literally jolted in pain and he put the book aside and got up so fast to immediately lead her to the freezer to get some  Rhodey: so, what? he physically cant say no to Morgan or some wacky voodoo thing compels him? Tony: That is the conclusion I have come to with my findings, yes. It seems he can’t intentionally do anything to hurt her in any way. So Morgan and her new friends are completely safe, sweetie. Pepper: I'm leaving to make sure she's doing okay... Tony: I also installed cameras just to make sure no one gets murdered without thorough evidence to convict him, if that helps? Pepper: If you can get the live feed to go to my phone I'll consider staying Tony: deal.

--meanwhile, in Tony's house--

[Peter Shuri Morgan and Loki are wrapped up in blankets and watching The Hobbit. Loki is doing some paperwork and Morgan is drinking orange juice while Peter and Shuri share some popcorn] Peter: so are we going to talk about how we're watching a movie with the person who attacked New York with an alien army a few years ago or not Shuri: he was not acting of his own volition so i thought we were excusing that Loki, looking up: you are literally the first person to have mentioned that Peter: but Mr. Stark said that-- Shuri: footage of the 2012 attack conclusively showed that his eye colour changed before and after he had been subdued the final time, which was a phenomenon associated only with being under the influence of the sceptre containing the mind stone  Peter: he does magic though! it could be a trick or the cameras could've been too grainy to tell Shuri: They weren't. But the changes in his behaviour and speech patterns also indicate that he was being controlled or at least coerced to some extent. He's also sitting next to us doing paperwork and watching Bilbo sneak around a dragon. Loki: Congratulations, you are officially the only person from this planet for whom I can confidently vouch is not a- *covers Morgan’s ears* -complete imbecile. Shuri: Thank you. Peter: well, she is a genius Shuri: Yes I am, in fact I'm a genius that has the approval of Loki, which is even better, because I'm assuming he'll have some neat ideas on how to make a fool of T'Challa in my lab on camera more often Loki: I may have some experience in the making-a-fool-out-of-my-brother department Shuri: wonderful! we can brainstorm after the movie :) Peter: I don't have a brother to prank :( Loki: I can fix that Peter: ...what Shuri: yeah, what?? Loki: oh I meant that if you wanted I could legally become your godparent and then you'd have Harley and Morgan as prankable siblings Peter: you know what? I'm actually considering it Shuri: how angry do you think T'challa would be if I made Loki an official Wakandan by saying he's my godfather because I think that would get a hilarious reaction out of him Loki, nodding: According to Asgardian tradition claiming a godchild forms an irrevocable bond and he would have to accept that his sister has someone who pulls off legendary pranks keeping her safe from any attempts at his retaliation Peter: that’s so cool and i'm definitely accepting your offer Shuri: and I'm joining in because i have a folder filled with evidence that Loki was mostly innocent of the New York attack but some videos of us together pulling off harmless pranks would make fine contributions to it Loki: wonderful! Loki, holding out documents and a pen: just sign here, there, and there, Peter: wait you've been sitting next to us filling out godchild adoption forms this whole time??? Loki: well actually I started out filling out the godparent-removal forms because Thor is an irresponsible buffoon and i refuse to share custody with him Peter: do you think i could get ~*Thor*~ to adopt me- Loki: Nopity nope. Too late. You've already signed the forms so you're stuck with me, and I refuse to share any of my friends with him Peter: aww you called us your friends Loki: you have no proof i said that Shuri, pointing to the camera in the corner of the room: but that hackable camera does >:) [peter jumps over the sofa and is going to retrieve the camera for shuri to get the blackmail material when he gets hit by a pillow. shuri says 'hey that was not nice' as she hits loki with her pillow. peter throws the pillow he has at loki. morgan yells 'PILLOW FIGHT!!' before joining in, and by the time they settle down again all of them have missed the ending of the film and have to rewatch the last 20 minutes before drifting off to sleep together on the floor in a patchwork of all their blankets]

---[later at the party]---

Tony: sorry pal, I'm a certified genius and even I don't know how she managed to carry around and slip Morgan’s papers to you when that dress has no pockets and her purse is barely large enough to fit a small-to-medium-sized wrench Rhodey: it was probably the same way she switched your drink for Thor's godchild renouncement forms when you weren't looking Tony, whispering: I think she has CEO paperwork powers Rhodey whispering back: you're only noticing now?

[pepper and tony get home the next day]

Pepper: i still cant believe you left Loki near the kids Tony: and i still cant believe you didn't know how to check the live feed and decided to ignore me the entire night instead of bothering to ask. clearly deep down you trusted my judgement and the decision to leave the kids in Loki's capable, mischiefy, slightly-insane but apparently reformed hands.

[yelling is heard from the living room and Tony and Pepper run in to find Loki Peter Shuri and Morgan sitting around wrapped in blankets and playing Mario Kart and exclaiming their thoughts very vocally. when they are noticed all the kids freeze and stare at Tony. Loki mumbles something about telling Tony he lost the bet since he did in fact manage to keep everyone alive and at that point even Pepper is staring (glaring) at Tony.]

Tony, realising the kids have bonded™: oh no. what have i done.

[itsclydebitches]

Godddddd I'm so upset that I dislike yen this much, doing main quests in skellige and Freyas ppl were doing stuff and she again disrespected other cultures with Geraly being against, "I may be inhumanly beautiful" I know she's meant to be confident but wowww. She's not confident and worried for Ciri she just comes off arrogant and selfish and vain. Like, fuck.

The ultimate mood, anon. My Witcher fandom life would be so much easier if I enjoyed Yen ... but I just do not lol. Remember how I mentioned that things were going to get even worse than her stealing and using a potentially dangerous artifact? Yeeeaah. She also resurrects Ciri's friend to torture him for information, all while destroying another sacred garden to get the power to do it! It's not even a "She's so evil and I love it 😏" situation for me because the game tries so hard to convince us that she's still The Best. Geralt's sexy soulmate, Ciri's adoring mother, the baddest bitch around who gets things done and does it with an effortless confidence... all while ignoring how horrific her actions and attitude are. Oh sure, other characters speak ill of her at times, but considering how much Geralt is written to adore her, no matter what you choose, that's all undermined. I love morally gray/evil characters, but I've never enjoyed them when the text refuses to appropriately acknowledge that side of them. Nothing is more frustrating to me than a story that frames disliking a character as the unambiguously wrong thing to do, especially when the text is piling up reasons to dislike them and, as a result, ignoring or shrugging them off their actions as not that bad. Yen is a rather extreme example of that for me. Despite her attitude, her choices, and other characters outright going, "Why do you like her?" the story as a whole works under the assumption that it's correct to like her anyway because Geralt loves her. And he loves her for... reasons.

They do meet before the wish, but only just. Major "The Last Wish" spoilers in this paragraph, so feel free to skip. Basically, Geralt and Dandelion run into trouble with a djinn, he goes to Yen for help since she's a sorceress (first time meeting her), he instantly falls for her because she's gorgeous and such (there's an elf there who is also madly in love with Yen. Men just... fall for her, instinctually), she heals Dandelion, Geralt agrees to pay her, but Yen has already decided on the payment she wants. She takes control of Geralt's mind and forces him to attack the town to seek revenge on those who have insulted her, resulting in him waking up in prison awaiting execution for "his" crimes. Meanwhile, Yen has gone after the djinn for herself because power/trying to regain her ability to have a kid. Geralt escapes, finds her failing to master the djinn (an attempt which btw has endangered the whole town) and despite what she's done to him, Geralt tries to get Yen to escape with him. She refuses, set on capturing the djinn even though it's obvious she can't. So as a last resort he uses the final wish to bind their fates together, saving Yen from the djinn in the process. Aaaaaand then they have sex.

So yeah, their rocky relationship is one of the main reasons why I can't enjoy Yen. For some their tumultuous history is evidence of realism, for me it's evidence that they're not actually very compatible and they're only together because a) that's the fantasy trope: protagonist men get together with the hot sorceress and b) because the magic is literally ensuring that they can't escape one another. I mean, canonically their fates are tied together by magic and canonically they spend about 20 years swinging between passionate love and fearsome fights... but there's supposedly no connection between these two things? No chance at all that they keep coming together because magic is drawing them rather than because they actually want/should be together? I wrote a meta a while back about the short story where they meet, which includes a present day scene where Geralt is criticized by another character — Nenneke — for running out on Yen. Thing is, he tries to explain that he left because she was "too possessive" and this is... flat out ignored. By both Nenneke and the fandom. There's a strong trend of ignoring Geralt's words in favor of a pro-Yen interpretation of events. He says he left because she was too possessive and she treated him like ____ — he's not allowed to finish the sentence and say what she treated him like because Nenneke interrupts him, saying she doesn't care about his version of events. Major yikes imo! She turns a claim of being possessive into Geralt not being man enough to stick around. The fandom likewise turns this into a case of Geralt getting cold feet and running out because he's a bastard who hates commitment. Likewise, Nenneke and the fandom claim Geralt is trying to get Yen money as a way of appeasing his guilt for leaving, he claims he's doing it simply because he still cares for her — even if he doesn't want to be with her — and knows she needs it. Geralt's words are frequently dismissed, in the same way others characters' opinions of Yen are dismissed. Any mark against her is treated as either a lie, or a convoluted claim that they don't really know her... never mind that an understanding of why she may act this way doesn't excuse the behavior itself. (Plus, the whole "Yen had a horrible upbringing, so of course she struggles being kind" perspective always fell flat to me when so many, including witchers, had horrendous upbringings too. The whole point is this world is a mess and most everyone suffers). It's supposedly true love, yet if someone came up to me and went, "I magically tied my fate to this woman to keep her from getting herself killed and we've spent the last couple decades having what many would term a rocky relationship, to put it kindly. I left once because she was too controlling. She once cheated on me. I likewise hooked up with others during our frequent breakups. A mutual friend used magic to get me to have sex with her — also while my lover and I were broken up — and though I view it as a dumb decision I'm happy to forgive her for, my lover is ready to commit murder because again: possessive. A lot of the time we're only a family because of our daughter. I once thought she'd horrifically betrayed us both. She didn't, but it says something that I was so ready to believe it, huh? Hmm? Permanently separated? Of course not! I love her. We're destined to be together after all :)" I'd be like, "Uh... you sure about that, dude?"

Not that Geralt doesn't make his fair share of mistakes in the relationship — he absolutely does — but I don't think it helps his case that he's immature in other ways and, frankly, that he's a very strong, badass witcher. It's easy to turn the hints we get about their relationship into a simplistic "emotionally naive man can't give the poor woman the commitment she wants" situation. Given Geralt's status as the badass fighter of the tale, it's likewise easy to dismiss his admissions of her being "possessive" and his general discomfort. He's the man. He's the witcher. If he's making any claims about how Yen isn't treating him well, they must be excuses, or exaggerations, because real men, especially physically powerful men, would do something about that — a something that's not sneaking out in the middle of the night. A lot of people read Geralt leaving as the ultimate proof that he's an immature bastard who doesn't deserve her. I read him leaving and think, "What were you trying to get away from? What was going on that made you think you could only leave by sneaking out without a word?" To me, that doesn't read as someone who felt safe, comfortable, and respected enough to do anything but slip away and try to wash his hands of things. And I'm not just pulling this "Geralt is at least somewhat afraid of Yen and isn't comfortable establishing boundaries with her" reading out of my ass. When Yen wants Geralt to kill the golden dragon for her and he refuses, saying he doesn't care anymore, his thoughts are:

He expected the worst: a cascade of flames, flashes of lightning, blows raining down on his face, insults and curses. There was nothing. He saw, with astonishment, only the subtle trembling of her lips. Yennefer turned around slowly. Geralt regretted his words.

And everyone is like, "See! Yen has improved so much. Geralt nearly made her cry, but she's supposed to be the bad guy here?" Meanwhile, I'm going, "Uh... anyone want to unpack why he expects fire, lightning, insults, curses, and blows to his face for telling her no? Why he's astonished that she wouldn't use her magic against him? Anyone think that Yen refraining from attacking Geralt when he refuses to murder on her command is a pretty low bar? No? Just me?"

Geralt and Yen's relationship makes me uncomfortable and a great deal of that discomfort derives from how much of the Witcher fandom shrugs off the fictional warning signs. I mean, I post primarily about RWBY. We watched a man in that show try to sneak away with his kids when his villainous wife planned to use them for a eugenics plan... and the fandom still blames him for that, refusing to admit that he was in an abusive relationship. Because that doesn't happen to men, right? I'm not saying it's the same for Geralt and Yen, simply because they are written to be soulmates. An abusive relationship was, quite obviously, never the authorial intent. However, I am saying that the a "This isn't a healthy relationship" reading is there, it exists as an interpretation, and both the story and fandom's tendency to dismiss it is something that hasn't helped me enjoy Yen's status as an otherwise well written, complex character. Their equality supposedly stems in part because they're both so flawed, yet each time I see a list of Geralt's supposedly equal faults they're... lacking imo. "Geralt bound himself to Yen without her consent." Yeah, to save her from dying from the djinn she was trying to enslave, after she refused to leave, while her actions threatened a whole town. "Geralt ran off without a word." Mmm hmm, anyone care about why? And my personal favorite is a scene you may not have gotten to yet (or may not get depending on your choices), but suffice to say, Yen is supposedly justified in physically attacking Geralt if he dares to challenge her in any way. That's the main takeaway across the fandom: If Yen is pissed off, you must have done something to deserve it which, in the relationship deliberately written to be "stormy," is something that sets all the alarm bells in my head off. Honestly, it kinda makes my skin crawl to go, "Geralt didn't deserve that" and get responses back of, "Yeah he did because he [insert basic human action here]." The Witcher world is hard and cruel, absolutely, but that doesn't mean I personally enjoy seeing an equally messed up relationship presented as something that's enviable in its flaws. "That's actually true love because the magically bound man who often expresses discomfort with his lover, written by a male author with a very iffy perspective on women, says it's true love." Crazy theory here, but... maybe it's not?

Idk, lots of rambling on my end tonight! For me, Geralt/Yen reads as something rather tragic which, in a canon that unironically upholds the relationship, and in a Yen-adoring fandom, doesn't make enjoying her character any easier. I keep coming back to Witcher 3, the comics, the show, even the books going, "Maybe I'll like her this time?" but nope, still trying lol.