#there is also only one vex and that's the post it note one!!! all of the other lookalikes are v a x

[hoshigray]

hii love ur works 🫶🏽

can I req brat reader giving toji the WORST attitude? 💗.

*sinister laugh* Why, yes, you can, noonie! When I saw this, the first scenario that came to mind was the reader being another assassin who likes to get on Toji's nerves. So, imma stick with that!! Had to take an all-nighter to finish this up, hehe~ (no fr tho, it's 8:35 in the morning here) Thank you for loving my stuff, and enjoy~~

A/n: posting this bc I'm staling on my Geto fic since my brain has so much it wants to add...sigh. In the meantime, while I'm working on this, I figured I could drop this as an apology for pulling the fic back (~_~;) My apologies, and I hope y'all like this one! Also tysm for 1.7k followers!! Y'all are too kind and sweet, happy to be writing for you~☆ Cw: hard dom! Toji x bratty fem! reader - you and Toji are assassins on a mission together - explicit content; minors DNI - implied age gap (the reader is at least in their 20s; Toji in his mid-30s or approaching 40s, up to you) - fingering (f! receiving) - cunnilingus - sexual acts in a public place - degradation (brat, crybaby, slut, whore) - Daddy kink - reader talking smack, but Toji teaches you a lesson - tiny praise - pussydrunk! Toji - pet names (baby, doll, princess) - ends with penetration, but mostly Toji eating you out - unprotected sex (PSA: wrap it up, or get the fuck up) - overstimulation - clitoral play (pinching, pushing, and sucking) - mentions of blood. Wc: 1.8k

You recently joined the hitmen field not too long ago. Still young and new to the workforce, it wasn't the first place you figured to enter for some quick cash. But with your astute skills and abilities, no other occupation best suited you. Besides, it wasn't long before people looked past your recent addition and saw what you were made of. Not only were you good at your job, but you were climbing the ranks, swifting past your inferior subordinates.

It's nothing new, though. You were always good at what you do, better than others at what you do. Doing everything perfectly and effortlessly, that was your style. And everybody knew that.

Everybody but a particular individual. A specific man who always overshadowed you. An older man who snatched your attention the first moment he looked your way, the scar on his lip rooted up with the twinge of his lips.

"Rookies lookin' real cute these days, huh, doll?" were his first words to you. And from that day on, you did what you could to get close to him. Even if that meant irritating him.

From taking his missions to acting as a complete thorn in his side, you do whatever it takes to get Toji's attention. Especially his silent pissed off expressions, which are your favorite to see. And don't let your handler tell you that you two would be on a mission together because the teasing would be endless for the poor, experienced hitman.

Just like today, when you two are deployed to kill an old geezer and his goons for a massive sum of money, Toji goes to one side of the old warehouse to thin out the number of bodyguards and heads straight to the target's den, leaving you to the rest. But imagine his surprise when he sees the old man already dead on the chair at his desk, a stiletto pierced right through his neck, evident of his demise as a stream of crimson staining his yellow dress shirt.

And Toji notices a note left on the weapon, the familiar handwriting in pink with a kiss mark already tells him who wrote it. "Gotta be quicker than that, Grandpa ~" is what he reads in your charming voice, and it vexes him knowing you beat him to the punch.

He sees you leaning on a pallet rack when he returns to the warehouse, and you smile when you turn to him. "Well, that was fast," you play coy, stretching when standing straight up. "Took care of those punks like five minutes ago, figured I'd wait on you."

"I got your note." He wastes no time. He's so hot when he does that.

"Oh? Did ya like it~?" Your hand swiftly grabs something that came dangerously close to your temple — your stiletto. It was thrown with the knowledge that you would catch it. So serious, huh.

"Ya know, for someone callin' me a 'grandpa,' you sure act like a damn kid leavin' y'r toys everywhere."

You chuckle at his complaint. "Awww, did I hurt your big boy feelings with my little words?" You see his green eyes watch your every move as you walk up close to him. "Sorry~, not my fault you were too slow to get the final kill."

Toji raises a brow. "How'd ya get to him before me?"

You shrug with a cheeky grin. "Assassins don't tell their secrets, especially when your old head couldn't get it."

It's his turn to chortle. "Oh yeah? Ya think y'r too fast for me?"

"I wouldn't say that, just that you're too slow for me," your hands go up defensively when he takes a step forward, and you try hard to not get turned on by his well-built physique displayed by the shirt that does a terrible job hiding his features. "As a matter of fact, I bet you're slow at other things."

He takes another step forward, and before you register his next move, he already has you pinned to the pallet rack you once leaned against. His smirk grows broader while your eyes widen at the sudden shifting. "Was that too slow fr' you, princess?"

No, absolutely not. That's what you would want to say to him, his tall figure engulfing you under his presence. But you didn't want to let off that easily, your hand finding the crotch of his pants. When verdant eyes shut to the feeling of your fingers brushing against his bulge, you take the chance to say more. "Oh, that was totally too slow for me, geezer. Such a shame; I thought you'd be a lot more fun. But guess I'll have to go on to the next person who could do a better job."

"Mmm, don't start somethin' y'r not ready for, brat." His gruff voice dials to a whisper, your ears replaying the tone, making the throbbing sensation between your legs prosper. You can feel his erection, even with his pants blocking the view. "Good luck findin' someone who'd shut that pretty mouth of y'rs better than I do."

You giggle after grabbing onto his erect cock, forcing the older man to hiss and his face coming down to your level. You whisper to his ear. "And what makes you think a dumb, old, brute-for-brains like you could satisfy me? I fail to see what you're capable of, grandpa." Those were the words you chose to entice the man under your spell.

But what you really failed to see was the predicament you've gotten yourself in.

Lying on a pallet with your back, your pretty bottoms and panties now discarded to the dirty floor, you scream out to the empty warehouse. Tears and drool escape from your face, and the quiver in your legs is evidence of your body going through the absolute most right now. "Haaahh! Ahhhh!! T-Tojiii, Toji, please!! I'm—Hoooohh!!" You grab tufts of raven hair that are stationed between your legs.

The older man holds your legs up with one hand, the other nestled between your slick-coated folds as his middle and forefinger push in and out of your cunt. His tongue licks furiously on your clitoris, your cries evident of the abuse on your tender bud and vulva.

Toji removes the wet muscle and moves his fingers go an instantaneous pace, the tips of his digits scraping your walls resulting in more tears falling off your face without fail. He snickers, "Look at you; all that screamin' and hollerin' like a damn whore have you forgetting simple rules." His thumb finds your clit, pushing down on it every time his fingers are propelled inside. "What did I tell you to call me, brat?"

The unforgiving rhythm of his hand on your bare vulva has you seeing stars and choking on your spit. "I-I'm sorry, Daddy!! I didn't mean to make you mad at me!"

"You sure 'bout that?" His condescending tone matched the devilish twinge of his scarred lips. The digits doing a 'come hither' motion that has your body jerking nowhere, your legs still restrained by his firm arm pushing them to your stomach. "My 'big boy feelings' were crushed with y'r little comments, so here I am gettin' the payback I need. Was acting all high and mighty until I got my mouth on ya."

"But I said—Mmmph!! I'm sorry!" You wail out, your face hot with embarrassment and excitement. "And I already came—Oh fuck...C-Came three times!!"

"You called me names four times, so I expect you to cum one more time, you fuckin' crybaby." He replies coldly, your tears and pleas on deaf ears. "Heh, if I knew havin' my fingers in you like this would have you behavin', I woulda done it earlier. Grippin' on my 'em like a damn slut."

His fingers go faster with no smooth transition as his mouth returns to your soft button, your screams erupting from the back of your exhausted throat. Even with your voice filling the scene, you can only listen to the raunchy noises of the commotion between your thighs. It's enough for you to wish your ears burn at such lewd sounds, and your head pounding worsens the state of your already mushy brain. This is what you wanted all this time — to have the man you've been infatuated with give you the attention to so dearly strived and poked for. However, the intensity of it all was nowhere near what you had expected.

"Nnnmm!! Daddyyy," the title slurred from your mouth feels hot to the tongue, but it's the only way to address him before your punishment intensifies. You peer down to see his black hair come up, fierce emerald eyes taking in your expressions. "It's coming, gonna cum again!!"

"Yeah? Wanna come on my fingers again?" He chortles when you rapidly nod at him, pathetically desperate for your release. "Fine, cum on Daddy's fingers like the slut you are." He moves his hands to the back of your thighs and has his tongue slowly glide up your soapy chasm, tasting your wetness until he reaches your clitoris and attacks the bud more. Circling around and sucking on your precious nub prompts your orgasm to climb up, and it hits you hard when his teeth and tongue grind on your clit.

With final moans of pleasure, you experience your finish with the harsh treatment of Toji's mouth, hands purchasing his hair for faux stability. Your legs tremble with curled toes, and your body jolts with the shocks. And Toji doesn't stop until he licks the slit clean of your essence, slurping up your sensitive folds until his thirst has quenched. All you can do is submit and let him have his way with you, sucking up your fluids from your cunt to the mess of your inner thighs.

"Mmmm, fucking Christ, Y/n," you hear his mumbled curse below. "Taste so fuckin' good, baby..."

Your body soon calms down from the climax, trying to steady your breathing with even breaths. And Toji finally finishes drinking your wetness, drawing his head up to reveal his lips wet with your come, licking it and his fingers. "Bet that wasn't slow fr' ya, huh."

You meekly nod your head. "And I bet nobody's gonna make you shut you up like that, huh?" You nod again.

The smirk on his face scares you, especially when he straightens up to show his erect dick still hard and ready to be free from the tented pants. And when his cock springs out, your sweaty body runs cold immediately.

"Good," he says while bringing you close to him, arranging his cock to your wet entrance. "But we ain't done here." Complaints and pleas aren't able to enter the air because you just watch the tip of his cock bully through the lips of your chasm and enter inside you with ease. He gradually pushes his entire length into you, getting full with every inch as his girth intrudes between your tight, smooth walls.

"Keep up wit' me, baby," his eyes hone in on you, gauging your reactions before he starts moving his hips relentlessly. "because I'm about to show you what I'm really capable of."

[absolutelynotsanebaby]

So I sat down the other day and went through the crane wives albums and some other songs to assign to Ninjago characters and I've finally sat down and decided to write the post out. The content are going to be under cut because this post will certainly be too long. I'm going to go album by album here starting with Coyote Stories and ending Here I Am: From The Listening Room.

(any and all "(X)" are simply links to the songs <3)

okay, here we go!

Coyote Stories

Keep You Safe: in some ways, I like to interpret part of this song as relating to Nya's perfectionism, especially within Possession. The bridge especially and lines "What if the steps I take turn out to be mistakes? How can someone like me learn to say "come what may"?" (X)

Allies or Enemies: this is Jay and Cole to me from Rebooted to ToE. Specifically, from Cole's perspective. The song has a lot of regret and bitterness in it that I just think fits so well. The first verse and second verse ("you owe me ears from dropping eaves"), and the bridge are all so clear to me. The bridge, "what happens now? do we have another go (oh) do we bow out and take our separate roads, I'll admit I've had my doubts (oh) but I want to be let in not out (oh) I want to be let in now out", reads to me like Cole's sudden giving in and desperation in their match in ToE. (X)

Hard Sell: this one's a little loser but it reminds me of Lloyd struggles to keep himself strong and straight with everything that gets thrown at him, all the stress. To be The Green Ninja (X).

Little Soldiers: Young Garmadon and Wu, I think. It's their doomed brotherhood, the way they loved each other clearly as impulsive youth ("on the broken backs of all the words we spared, like little soldiers in the trenches, it was a march we made through ruin and despair but we held hands all the while") but ultimately Wu couldn't keep his brother. The bridge reminds me of the war. (X)

Metaphor: Harumi, obviously. There's really no debate, it's her fake mask as the Jade Princess, it's her relationship to Lloyd even. "I've gotten good at leaning on metaphors, I've gotten good at leaning on someone else's page, I cut my teeth on second hand sentiments, you can't trust a single thing I say" -> princess era. It's a sweetly bitter song, chalk full of implications of trauma. The line "but I always dig up bones in your sympathy, I can't trust a single thing you say" is relevant to her relationship with Lloyd, I feel. (X)

Of Everlong: This is a lovely and very soulful song, short and sweet. It's reminiscent of Pixane, to me, specifically from Pixal's perspective. There's a certain connectiveness in being in someone's head. "and if my lover will not hear it take my voice and take my spirit leave weakened and dig my hole only my lover not I can keep my soul" vs "I do not know if there is anything after this life for beings such as you or I, but if there is, I will find you there. Goodbye my Zane." (X)

New Discovery: Fairly simple and not to deep, but this is a Misako song. Adventurer and explorer, and all (X).

The Moon Will Sing: I want to preface two things, A) this interpretation is very much looser and a little less connected t the full original meaning of the song and a little more based in reworking it to fit the characters and B) Wu haters will be stabbed by my mighty and large sword. This is Morro and Wu, on a level. "I shine only with the light you gave me", the light here i the green ninja prophecy,something Morro latched onto to prove his wroth, who is, who is to Wu. The entire song as an air of bitter grief I think fit's Morro and Wu's story. Morro could've grown up and been something more than a half baked angry ghost chasing a dream from 40 years ago, but he wasn't, "I could've been anyone, anyone." (X) (X) (<- an extra link to the demo of the song!! I find it rather lovely)

(Extra note on The Moon Will Sing, I could also see this being a song about Zane/The Ice Emperor and Vex.)

Rockslide: this is about to be very unsurprising, I associate this with Cole! There's obviously the title but generally I think the energy of the song is very Cole-like, in the fun sense. There's also the lines about feeling the "quakin honey I feel it deep" which is rather self explanatory. (X)

The Hand That Feeds: I'm shaky on this one simply because I don't remember or know her character very well, but Akita. Has a lot of mention of wolves and is a very angry song against systemic oppression (though, in the song it's anti-capitalism lol). (X)

Sleeping Giants: another Cole song, mostly based on the presence of mountains, and the 'calling' aspect of the song. I also tend to associate songs with strong drums like in this with Cole (like Drumming Song by Florence and the machine) (X).

Never Love An Anchor: I've seen this song go around actually, mostly with Misako. Which, I agree with! However, I consider it a dual song with her and Garmadon. Specifically, their season one selves. It's Misako leaving Lloyd at that boarding school, it's Garmadon being so absent even though he so clearly loves his son (and despite his evilness, he doesn't seem to wish Lloyd to follow in his footsteps). The first verse really resonates with me as being Misako, clumsy hands and trying her best, and all. The last verse however, is Garmadon ("I am selfish I am broken I am cruel") and so is the line "With this heart of mine that's guilty not remorseful." If you haven't heard this song, I truly, truly recommend it, it's gut wrenching imo. (X)

Okay! We've reached the end of Coyote Stories. That's 11/12 songs out of the albums, the best ratio we have on this listing I believe. Moving onto Foxlore now!

Foxlore:

Nothing At All: when I was looking at this song, trying to decide who to apply it to, I ended up getting kind of emotional. It's Zane, post Ice Emperor specifically. In his self-dehumanization. I'm just going to list out the lyrics that made me incredibly sad lol. "Happy is the man who wants for nothing happy is the lair happiness itself is desire", "heart broken men long to feel nothing to free themselves from strife handle pain, pain doesn't define a man it sure lends an hand getting measured in the sweeter parts of life". (X)

Down The River: Lloyd, post Garmadon revival and Crystallized. All his bitter feeling towards his father, and the angry abandonment issues. The first verse ("I've been wishig that you'd prove me wrong, that you'd come clean and rue the damage done, restore my faith in you, but you've got no reaosn to") and fifth ("Now, tell me, when you start again where will you house your skeletons? Or will they stay behind? Your settlement in kind?") especially. (X)

Can't Go Back: Zane, post Ice Emperor, again. It's that guilt man, I don't really have more to explain but know it makes me Sad. (X)

Turn Out The Lights: Jay, this is mostly about an anxiety head-canon lol, considering the song is about a racing mind. (X)

Ribs: this song is so Nya it hurts. It pretty strongly connects to her arc over the seasons about self independence, identity, and misogyny. It's her finding her place as who she is, and taking back things as her own ("It is mine, it is mine). Verse three I like to connect to her element being of Wojira's and how that is so symbolic of her place in the team (and why she reflect Morro so well in a lot of ways but I won't get into that), "time has changed the metaphor, now, dust is not the orgin of bone, little girl don't let them sell you any armor all your ribs are still your own". There's also the main chorus, which, god I got sad when I looked at it from the angle of Seabound. "The dark doesn't frighten me I chose to close my eyes, it is mine, it is mine, the night doesn't frighten me I chose to let it thrive, it is mine, it is mine." (X)

Not The Ghost: perhaps a little literal but, Cole in his Day Of The Departed era. Though, it connects to his feelings at the time more than his literal ghost-hood. It pretty strongly captures the depression, low self esteem, and growing urgency (around the Latter half of the song). You could also read some of the lyrics as paralleling the events of DOTD itself. (X)

And that's it for Foxlore, that is...6/10 I think, so not the worst either. Fun fact, this next section is my favorite album as a whole :)!

The Fool In Her Wedding Gown:

Icarus: now who else would this be about if not the doomed siblings of the series? Of course it's Wu and Garmadon. I think of this pretty strongly as paralleling their 'adventures' as young children, and then the war. "Oh my brother, oh my brother, oh my brother, who have you become in the wake of all that's happened here", yeah. The entire energy of the song has that weird sad, yet hopeful regret Wu seems to carry around with him in regards to Garmadon, it's a very loving song. (X)

Fangs: Nya, the entire song carries the desperate anger she has, the longing for independence and strength. It's bitter too, in a way that reminds me of her from Rebooted to Skybound. "I am not your highness, a damsel left helpless by fright, I am a lioness, fierce as I walk through the night", "a man will never know his bride"...and well, she was a bride once, wasn't she? (X)

That's it for TFIHWG actually, I know, sad sad ratio but I am also not suprised because a lot of the songs on this album are rather specific.

Safe Ship, Harbored:

New Colors: this one is really simple, Lloyd, and only because it reminds me about how consistently stressed he is lol. (X)

The Crooked, The Cradle: This is a Morro song, to me. The idea of were you doomed from the start (the cradle), or was this purely because of the choices you made? The line "can anyone hear me? The crooked are smiling, they know me the best" strongly reminds me of him and the Preeminent. (X)

(Additionally, this came to me as i was writing this section but I could also see this song being Garmadon coded.)

Caleb Trask: Oni Lloyd! The entire song is about the concept of having 'bad in your blood' and how you simply have to embrace it. That you cannot let it chain you, that love will bring you back. Reminds me of him. (X)

I Ain't Done: if you look at this from a purely conceptual level and energy wise, this song is very Morro. It's got his vengeful, jealous and vicious return from the dead to wreck havoc vibes lol, the lyrics in a literaly sense, however, do not fit. (X)

We're nearing the end now! kind of! 4/12 ratio.

Here I Am: Live From The Listening Room:

High Horse: Jaya, actually. From Rebooted to Skybound, from Nya's pov. Mostly, I connect it to that weird, unhealthy desperation Jay had for Nya and Nya's desire to be free of it, her own self. "You're a sweet heart, you're a curse, you're a passing grade on a low, low bar, you've got your eyes open, I know your worth, but I've got so many things in my hungry, hungry heart", sums it up pretty well. (X)

Here I Am: This one's Cole, but it's a bit of a mixture on why. First up, it's again DOTD era Cole with all his being forgotten angst and anxiety. Secondly, and maybe more painfully, it really reminds me of his and Lou's relationship early on. Neglected child core, and all that ("I promised myself I'd learn to be the one who leaves, with no more roots to tie me down, it's just a different kind of lonely"). The last verse is strongly reminiscent of his pure stubbornness, too. (X)

Queen Of Nothing: Solidly Harumi, a lot on vibes and mood. It's got a dark, sort of unsatisfied sound to it. The chorus screams her , "Isn't this what you wanted? Time sure feels like it's running out, just finish what you started, queen of nothing wearing such a heavy crown." (X)

Sowing Seeds: this one's a bit more general, it reminds me of Possession, the season. It's also a very moody song, having a tired, haunted sort of energy. It also fits nicely into the theme of consequences in Possession. The first verse ("still as a lake long after the wind is gone, in the face of a thief mashing ground to mud, still as a street long after the work is done, as he gnashes his teeth, as he cuts it up, cuts it up") heavily reminds me of Morro. (X)

Hollow Moon: fairly simple, Hollow Moon reminds me of Cole's fear on DOTD. It's got that spooky and paranoid sort of energy. (X)

The Wolf: this both a Harumi and Morro, bearing that bitter, self destructive energy. (X)

Now, that concludes all the albums thus far, and I know I sad we'd leave off on HIA:LFTLR, however, I am a lair. There's a couple songs that aren't on albums that's be a shame not to mention.

Margaret: this is Misako, in her loss of her husband, and her trails to find a way to fix things. "She's breaking her knuckles on truths that keep her awake, and she's tired but her jaw is set, she won't lose any more of the heart she still has left, so she says a prayer pulls the covers near and waits, Margaret won't sleep tonight." Lovely song. (X)

Scars: this is a newly released song! I believe it connects back to Never Love An Anchor, and as such, it fits Lloyd very well. Specifically in relation to Garmadon, post revival. It so so fits all that anger in him at his dad ("cause I was born with a whole in my heart, yeah, we were fucked from the start, tell me it's inevitable I'd end up with scars from falling down, down, we were always meant to fall apart"). (X) (X) (<- the second is a live audio recording that is personally my favorite!)

Okay, no we're done! Anyways, if you read all the way down here I hope any of this made sense. This is a little bit of a love letter to The Crane Wives and Ninjago, I spent hours doing this lol. If you haven't heard any or some of these songs, please do listen to them!! Every song mentioned should have an accompanying link. Anyways, time to end this stupidly long post, please share if you have any thoughts or connect songs differently!!!!!!!!

[thefirstknife]

The Infinite Forest

Sighs. This post has been on my mind since we saw the trailer for Echoes, because they showed us the gate to the Infinite Forest and I thought: how many people even recognise that? Let alone have been there? Or know stuff about it? It's not been in the game for over 4 years, outside of a few pvp maps.

The Infinite Forest was a victim of the yoinkening of planets at the end of Arrivals. Unlike Mars and Titan that have since returned, Mercury has not (and neither has Io) so there was really no reason to think about it until they decided to do something with that. And it appears they've decided, something I hoped they might do in Echoes, given that we've speculated from the start that it would be a Vex season.

But now that we did get the proof that we'll be dealing with it somehow, I want to get into it, and mostly because they gave us zero explanation about how is it even possible for us to consider the Forest. I'm going to have a normal time with this one. I know we'll get at least some answers in a few days, but I need to cook in the meantime so I don't descend into madness (too late). Obviously spoilers for this week under the cut, and also a long post:

What is the Infinite Forest?

How does it all work and why?

What happened to it?

Echoes

What is the Infinite Forest?

The best, and arguably only, source for this is unfortunately a vaulted campaign, Curse of Osiris. Here's a link to the campaign from Destiny Lore Vault, but there are also playthroughs around from the time it launched. It's not needed to watch the whole thing, although it is fairly short, but this is where most of the information about it comes from.

There's also the Osiris comics that accompanied the DLC; first two are available on Bungie's site. The third is only in the physical book, helpfully scanned here.

Probably the most concise explanations are from the campaign:

Reflection of Osiris: Behold — the Infinite Forest! A planet sized prediction engine, simulating trillions of realities in parallel, all geared towards a single Vex purpose. Keep going, and you'll see. Sagira: The Vex are simulating reality in here. Brute forcing the future. And before you ask: everything in here IS real enough to kill you.

And this entire lore tab:

Physically, I am beneath the surface of Mercury. That is what Sagira's sensors say. The Vex hollowed out the planet, replaced its molten heart with cold right angles. But that is not what I see. I see infinity. An infinity of possible worlds, so perfectly simulated as to be indistinguishable from the experiences I once called "reality." I can touch them, taste them, pass lifetimes in them! They grow within this machine like fruit upon a tree—no, a forest of trees, its fractal expansion nigh unmeasurable.

Essentially, the Infinite Forest is a simulation engine that the Vex use to make predictions and find possibilities that suit their goals. It's physically located inside of Mercury; the Vex dug into the planet and replaced its insides with the engine. So far it has only been accessible from Mercury, from a single gate. Putting my 7 year old screenshots here like grabbing pictures of loved ones from a photo album:

Ikora noted that Osiris spent a long time studying that gate back in the day, believing it's the entrance. And he was correct.

There is a Vex gateway near your location. Osiris spent years studying it. He was convinced it was the door to the infinite Forest. If it is still possible to find Osiris, we need to open that door.

Osiris, or rather, his reflection, also said:

First, I will show you where it all began. Mercury, untold centuries ago, before the Vex arrived. Here, the Vex planted the seed that became the Infinite Forest, and its Mind, Panoptes. Panoptes has a single purpose — reshape reality for the Vex.

To keep things simple, the campaign revolved around us stopping Panoptes from achieving the Vex' goals by using the Infinite Forest. We ended up killing it, of course. We did so by hopping around through the Forest, going to simulated pasts and futures.

But the Forest largely consists of a really weird constantly shifting space that looks like this:

Thank you past me for this really helpful screenshot. It looks like it's an open sky, but it's not; the ceiling is a solid flat surface. That is the surface of Mercury, seen from the inside of the planet. On the edges of the picture, there's two tall structures; one looks worn down and destroyed, the other looks newly built. These are the gates leading to the actual simulations. The left one leads to a simulated future and the right to a simulated past.

These structures are called "trees" and are the reason why this place is called the Infinite Forest. Each of these "trees" generates a simulation and leads there, but you have to go through this shifting reality with ever-changing platforms to reach them. This is the physical space needed to essentially "run" the Forest.

You can still see this on pvp maps Fragment and Convergence:

A lot of the stuff about how the Vex actually made this was not entirely confirmed at the time; the stuff about Mercury being converted back during the Collapse was something that's been in the lore since literally D1, but not much was known about how true any of that was or how it started and how it was done. This was somewhat cleared up later, in the first page of Trials and Tribulations (from Worthy). I say "somewhat" because like. Reading this page is an exercise for sanity:

Chrome-hooked appendages |breached sky, counted in triplets| stretched for miles through sun-soaked atmosphere. They bored |with deepest intentions| into the marigold sands. From the great temporal chasms |wailing mouths of creation| flowed an ocean |a second conception| of radiolarian fluid. Across the horizon |of definitive sprawl| the scene was |super-imposed design| resonant and |uniquely| multiplicative. Each injection site |form mirrored in the hundreds of thousands| fostered a new lineage in stone and steel and fluid. |They would live| the new age in sub-routine |sleep| and observation. They would foster the |metallic| seeds of a generation in |twilight| time. From the sites bubbled pools |progeny| of |endless possibility| that murmured chaotic, |lullabies of change| and wrung the Traveler's Light from Mercury. The Light coalesced |imbibed| within the pools. The planet transformed |reborn| into a |sleepless dream| machine of prediction.

Yeah. What this whole thing seems to be implying is a confirmation of Mercury being converted by the Vex during the Collapse. The Vex flooded the planet with radiolaria and drilled into it, changing its terraformed environment into a Vex world. Some of this is shown in Curse when we first visit the simulated past. The Vex appeared and started raising the spires and transforming the surface of Mercury into what we know it as. Its core was eventually fully replaced by the Infinite Forest.

After we killed Panoptes, Osiris essentially claimed the Forest for himself and returned there sort of indefinitely. He would leave years later, when he contacted us in Season of Dawn, though we know that he was periodically leaving anyway, since he was building the Sundial. It's not really been used for anything else, outside of various adventures and the quest for saving Saint which I went into in this post.

How does it all work and why?

It's always been kinda weird that the Forest was not a bigger deal, though it makes sense if we consider the out-of-game factors and the fans' general dislike of Mercury as a whole (which I personally think is a skill issue). The Forest was also difficult to work with so it was difficult to make new content for it which is probably why it was never really done, even though realistically, setting-wise, it should've.

It's mentioned in lore here and there, and Osiris spent his time there a lot up until Dawn. The Infinite Forest also alerted him that our actions drastically changed the Vex predictions which was serious and important enough for him to finally leave. So for all intents and purposes, the Forest was always a big deal, just difficult to implement into gameplay. This is quite unfortunate because it should've reasonably been something to use more, including explaining its danger a bit more in-depth over time. While Osiris did have a major influence over it post-Panoptes, the place was still largely Vex-controlled and they still had access to it.

So why is that dangerous in the first place? After all, it's just a simulation engine. That's true, but the danger is in how the Vex were using those simulations. By having access to a place that generates trillions of situations and possibilities, it allowed them to explore options that would normally be almost impossible to explore in-person, physically. Even the Vex, who can exist outside of time, would need to spend... well... time and resources to explore these options by simply time travelling. With the Forest, they could just generate them all at once, instantly, with no time passing outside of the Forest.

They could use this to simulate anything and then explore what would happen if they followed that possibility, which allowed them to predict more accurately. It allowed them to essentially run a certain scenario through every single possible iteration and see the outcome of all of them, then pick the option that suits them best and act accordingly. It could also let them study their enemies; by simulating many situations and observing how the enemies react in those situations, they could learn about the strategies their enemies use.

This is incredibly powerful and dangerous. But are there limitations to their simulations? Sort of... As we know, the Vex can't simulate Light or any other paracausality, but that doesn't necessarily mean that they can't try. This is where things get complicated because we lack a lot of the details about how this all works.

From what we can tell, the Forest can include simulations that feature paracausality and Guardians; it's seen in the intro cutscene for Curse where Osiris casually wanders into the Guardians raiding the Vault of Glass. It was also briefly mentioned in Lightfall's CE (page 28), where Elsie explores different timelines. In one of them, she finds Osiris wielding Stasis who tells her that he saw her wielding it:

"I saw glimpses of you wielding this power during my time in the Infinite Forest."

This is where things get complicated because we don't truly know if there are meaningful differences between normal simulations and simulations produced by a planet-size machine. The Vex, for all intents and purposes, can't really simulate Light and Guardians, but could they create simulations based on what they've personally experienced? After all, the Vex from the Vault of Glass experienced the Guardians raiding them; can they load up their memories and simply replay it? Would that even count as a simulation or is that simply just a recording that you can access within the Forest?

Is it accessible in other Vex spaces or is the Infinite Forest unique in some way? After all, there is also the Vex network as well as corridors of time. There's also some sort of overlap between them, according to Osiris:

...Vex security measures where the network intersects with the corridors of time.

There's even the implication that a simulation from the Forest could potentially escape the engine and enter the real world.

Sagira: Hey, team! Copies of the Cabal invasion are trapped inside the Infinite Forest. On the, uh, off chance one of them escapes, possibly armed with world-breaking Vex tech… Ghost: Wouldn’t be the first time. We’ll handle this.

There is also the whole question about timelines and realities and how that works in the Forest. Can you use the Forest to look into real timelines and realities, those that might be happening somewhere, or are they just projections and simulations of possibilities? Could you interact with them, and affect other timelines? This is an interesting question now that Echoes is going on with all the stuff about the Conductor and what's happening to Saint, but we currently don't know the answers.

What I think is the most likely is that the Infinite Forest is somehow unique and can offer a lot more than the normal Vex network; its simulation options are so well-developed and so powerful that it can genuinely simulate a lot more than the Vex usually would be able to, including showing glimpses of paracausality, especially glimpses that the Vex have themselves recorded in their interactions with Guardians. Then, they can use the Forest to try and build on that, essentially train the engine by feeding it trillions of data points to attempt to make accurate simulations that lead to good predictions.

And these seem to be the key words: accurate and prediction. The point of simulations is not just to look at things, it's to use them to be able to predict things, giving the Vex an advantage. This is directly referenced and discussed in the lore:

There's just one thing: if Osiris used the Infinite Forest to develop his prophecies, and the Infinite Forest cannot accurately simulate Light, how did Osiris predict the Traveler would wake? The Forest's very inability to predict this very thing is what prevented Panoptes from breaking ground with its apocalyptic calculations.

So what exactly is the Forest capable of? It can definitely show the past even if it involves paracausality. It can also show the future, though the accuracy of any future predictions may be in question, depending on the amount of paracausality involved. It's very much implied that it can also show other timelines and/or realities. And of course, it can simulate future possibilities, as well as show simulations of anything from the past; events or places alike. For example, Osiris simulated the Fundament, apparently:

Ghost: The Forest can generate so many Hive - it might as well be their homeworld. Sagira: We've thought about that. Ghost: Have you simulated the Hive homeworld? Sagira: Didn't go well.

If there are specific limitations, we're not sure what they may be. There probably are, but they're most likely deliberately not spelled out to prevent any kind of conflict with stuff they might want to add to the Forest later; like for example now, with Echoes. Because there's a lot of questions right now about the Forest now that Ikora has so casually told us we're going to be going back in there. So...

What happened to it?

As has been established, the Forest is physically located on Mercury. Or rather, in Mercury. Its one and only entrance is on Mercury as well. And Mercury has been eaten by the Witness over 4 years ago. So that's it then? Well no. Not only is the Forest on an inaccessible planet, it has actually been sealed, from the inside, before the planet was taken.

He struggled with his pack as a tempest beat on his eardrums. He withdrew his Infinite Simulacrum, impossibly small in this immense space, and with trembling fingers synchronized it to the frequency of the crack in the Forest. It ticked like a metronome and then… Silence. The Forest was sealed.

Instead of evacuating, Brother Vance decided to stay on Mercury, go into the Forest, and seal it. I go about it for a long time in this post, but basically he believed that it would be really bad if the Pyramids gained access to the Forest. He also believed that the Sundial did something to the timelines and that the Pyramids could exploit that, as well as the Infinite Forest being somehow "the key to all of this."

He also wanted to use the Forest to... spread hope. Through the timelines?

"I will walk into the Infinite Forest and spread hope, Guardian."

He essentially wanted to do something and prove that even Lightless people can still help. He appeared to be willing to die for this, which is quite strange mostly because this whole idea and endeavour wasn't in the name of Osiris. Hell, in a way, it was about doing something to fix the unknown consequences of Osiris' meddling with the timelines.

You notice Vance's hands are balled tightly at his sides. "The Pyramids draw close. Through this system and beyond, the Lightless are filled with fear. I am no Osiris, true, but in my small way, I will bring light to their darkness." There is clarity in his voice. "I will tell them they must believe."

Since I've gone into it in the other post in a lot more details, I won't go into it here again, although I could. But the point that I want to get across is that the sealing of the Infinite Forest was quite a significant part of Arrivals and the whole plot of the evacuation of Mercury (or rather the non-evacuation of Mercury; the sole reason for Vance staying was to seal the Forest).

In another post (you'll have to scroll through the back-and-forth insanity) I also mentioned how much of Vance's story in Arrivals seemed to be connected to him losing his mind about the effects of the Sundial on the timelines. It also directly links to the Perfect Paradox. All of these things have been quite prominently connected to this episode, especially the stuff with the Sundial and what Osiris has done with it and how it may or may not have affected the timelines and, most of all, Saint and the whole ordeal of saving him.

It's fairly unclear how many characters know what happened to the Forest though. The YW knows obviously because Vance told us directly. I do believe that Zavala would also know as we reported back to him, which also most likely extends to Ikora as well. Another issue is that we don't really have any specific proof that the sealing was successful or permanent. It seems like it was, but a lot of stuff could've happened in the past 4 years of Mercury being in an anomaly.

As I've mentioned many times before, Mercury is the last unsolved plot from Arrivals; as in, we genuinely don't know anything about it. Mars has returned in WQ and Ana's side of the story was concluded in Seraph. While Io is still gone, Asher's story was concluded in Defiance through Avalon. Titan returned in Deep, which solved the story of the planet and also Sloane. We know why these planets were taken (with the exception of Io, though it's fair to assume it had something to do with the Pyramidion because of Asher's story being tied to it), and we know what happened to all of the vendors. Except Mercury and Vance; two things inherently connected to the Infinite Forest.

We don't truly know why Mercury was yoinked, though it's once again fair to assume it was most likely for the Forest. But you know. It got sealed so the Witness couldn't do anything with it and we have no idea what it was doing with Mercury all this time. We also don't know what the hell was Vance on about when he talked about the "anchored timelines" and how the Forest is incredibly important to everything. Due to how unreliable he is, it could just be his usual cringefail. After all, Osiris himself did not have any plans for the Forest himself; he was upset that he'd lose it, but he didn't think anything more about it, even if during Dawn he insisted that the Forest cannot be sealed or destroyed yet.

But also I think dismissing it all is an easy mistake to make, and possibly a deliberate one. Everything with Vance is written to be as easy to dismiss as possible, but he did know certain things that were absolutely correct and real. Not to go on about the tones again, but. Yeah. And given the current situation...

Echoes

Failsafe has come up with a plan for which she needs data from the Vex. She specifically needs data that can be compared to the altered Vex on Nessus, so we need large amounts of information that hasn't been changed or messed with. She concluded that the best source of that data would be Saint's dead body. It exists in a specific space (and time) and would have this information; information that has not been altered or influenced by anything else because that Saint is dead and preserved as is.

Failsafe explained this to Ikora and Ikora agreed that this is the best source, she's just worried about how this will affect Osiris and Saint. She doesn't want us to tell them. So next reset, we're going to the Infinite Forest to find Saint's tomb again. Yay!

But like. How?

They presented this so casually, with Ikora even saying that the best "accessible" source of this data is the Forest and Saint's tomb. And I know that they know that we know that Mercury is gone and that the Forest was sealed. But they've already showed us the gate to the Forest on Nessus, twice: in the mini showcase and then in the intro to the season in-game:

The first picture is showing the gate when it's open. And yes, this specific portal effect has only ever been used for the Forest. The second image shows the gate when it's closed with that impenetrable barrier. The structure itself is different from the original; it's worn down, coloured differently and doesn't have the same tip - instead there's the weird orb and the statue. It looks far more Nessus-like, and closer to present-day Vex, or maybe future Vex. But it's guarded by Precursors, so I don't know. It definitely doesn't look like the original however.

We clearly aren't going to Mercury. And even if we were, how would we enter? Neither Failsafe nor Ikora have mentioned this little problem and it seems as if they already know that the gate is on Nessus; I assume they'll discuss the details of this in the Act 2 finale next week. But the problem is that without all of this context, how do they even explain the issue with the Forest? They can always shorten this to some reasonable quick explanation, but they still have to explain how are we entering the Forest. There's a few key problems.

Obviously, number 1 is that the Forest is on Mercury and as of now Mercury is still in the anomaly.

The Forest itself is sealed from the inside.

So far it has not been possible (or at least not known to us) to enter the Forest from any other location. As we've seen, Osiris spent years looking for the entrance and back in Arrivals he was quite upset about losing the Forest. If he simply had the ability to enter it without being physically on Mercury, then why bother or lament Mercury's loss?

It is, to our knowledge, one of a kind. It took quite a tremendous effort to build it and it requires a lot of power to run; a whole planet.

Possible solutions:

Mercury is back and Ikora hasn't told anyone yet because she doesn't want anyone to go there yet; perhaps it's in quarantine. I don't think this is very likely, but it's possible.

Opening a gate to the Forest from another location IS possible and we just didn't know about it.

Opening a gate to the Forest from another location is possible only because of the situation with the Echo; a powerful source of paracausal power can maybe help us do this remotely. So this simply wasn't an option before the Echo's existence.

The Vex and the Conductor have built or are still building a new Forest inside of Nessus this time. The Vex lost access to the original, either simply because of the anomaly or because it was sealed or both, so now with the Echo they're just doing it again, and better. So the Forest we're going into is not the original, but a new one; the assumption being that the data from the old Forest is accessible to the Vex so the new Forest can essentially run the same code as the old one, allowing us access to Saint's tomb.

The Vex and the Conductor only have to build a new gate that can lead us to the old Forest, despite it being in an anomaly and despite it being sealed. It essentially just brute forced another door.

And the possibilities in regards to it being sealed:

As I mentioned before, maybe the sealing wasn't as successful as we (or Vance) thought.

Vance is somehow still alive and he will open it for us from the inside, essentially concluding his role from Arrivals.

Maybe the sealing wasn't permanent; either the Vex could eventually counteract this, or Vance couldn't hold it closed for very long. He's a Lightless man and it's quite dubious how long he could survive inside. Maybe the seal automatically broke when (if?) he died.

If we're going with the option that this is a new gate to the old Forest, then as I said before, this may simply be able to counteract the seal.

If we're dealing with a completely new Forest, the seal may simply not even be in effect. The old Forest is sealed, but we're not going to the old one so it doesn't matter.

What I'm assuming is that Osiris could open the gate if he saw one again, so if the gate is simply now on Nessus (either to a new Forest or connecting to the old one), Osiris can just use his cubes as he did before and open it again, counteracting the seal. Vance's device used to seal it was made from Osiris' notes anyway, so I'm assuming it's something similar to the cubes. In that case it can just be opened with the same thing.

Ikora will just blast it open like she did back in Curse. Seal or no seal, new or old Forest, she doesn't give a shit,

There's an option for all of these that's basically just they don't mention it all. I don't think this is very likely, but hey. It's possible!

I've been running these scenarios in my head for days. Actually, I've been running them ever since the showcase for Echoes showed us the gate to the Forest, but this significantly increased when this week confirmed that we are indeed heading in there. And it was delivered so matter-of-factly as if there aren't any of these problems and scenarios I listed above. This is baffling me. I know there will be some explanations offered, but the setup completely blindsided me with how it was delivered. Ikora with the simple "Oh yeah the best place to grab data from is the Infinite Forest. Pack it up boys." And I'm standing there with a 8 hours long presentation asking her to explain how. She blocks my number on vannet.

Perhaps the situation is far simpler than I'm making it out to be. It would be really easy to just write the old Forest and Mercury away as being permanently lost. That way you don't have to explain or deal with any of the stuff with the anomaly or the yoinkening or Vance's shenanigans. I will obviously remain forever unhinged about it if that's the case because I simply need to know what happened, but it's the easiest way to deal with this. The Echo allowed the Vex to make a new Forest, they're using massive amounts of radiolaria and the core of Nessus to just recreate it all, then they copied all the data from the old one into it, booted it up and that's it.

But what if the seal is in effect? Or what if we're dealing with the old Forest on Mercury that's still in the anomaly? How do they plan to deal with that in a single mission? Well... We have no clue.

Bungie article lore time, but back last year in the State of the Game article, they said this about the pvp map Multiplex:

Although many of us had been thinking about a lo-fi Vex map for the Crucible, the challenge of this palette was the possible lack of player orientation in the play space. We thought bringing the Mars palette into the Vex Network realm would be a great way to mitigate this while adding an evocative look. Narratively, the space is in the middle of compiling the Infinite Forest, so this is what you’ll see in action.

Yes, while everyone was losing their mind about this article, I was looking for lore about the Infinite Forest. But yeah. It seems like they have information about it in the network and they were using it to compile that information; perhaps preparing to make a new one? Or simply using it for data.

So essentially, the Vex could have enough information about the Forest to recreate it, and better now with the Echo, which would allow us to simply bypass the anomaly and the Forest being locked, while allowing us to enter and still find Saint's tomb. This is by far the easiest solution.

But I want a conclusion on Mercury and Vance. I feel like this episode is the only time to really do that and they've been giving us so many Mercury things already, clearly showing that it was a big inspiration for it all. The music, the assets, the enemies. This includes the stuff about Saint and his grave, as well as the whole thing with the Perfect Paradox. There's still Act 3 of course and some still unknown exotic mission, but I feel like the quest that has us literally going into the Infinite Forest to revisit a place not even from Dawn, but from Curse, is the best spot to also deal with this.

I just have no idea how that's going to happen and I wanted to list out the stuff that would have to be somehow addressed and solved, even if the solution ends up being the simplest one. I also wanted to try and list some information about the Forest itself since this thing has not been in the game for years. I hope this was useful and that it explains things well.

Anyway, I've spent the whole week pacing around my room like a wild animal. Help.

In conclusion:

[lowfunctioningoptimist]

Being a former Schoolteacher in the Van Der Linde Gang

Prompt: {Reader as a Former Teacher in the Van Der Linde Gang}

Fem!Reader x Various

Summary: It’s no secret that the Van Der Linde Gang brought together all sorts of misfits of all sorts of backgrounds. Hosea had been a stage actor, Bill had been a soldier, and Javier was once a revolutionary. However, with all these strange yet vibrant histories, yours always made you stand out. Far to off in the eastern side of the country, you had lived a modest but respectable life as a schoolteacher. 

Note: Reader is written as being in her late twenties to early thirties. I only have Arthur, John, Dutch, Abigail, Mary-Beth, Javier, Molly, and Sean in this post. I do intend to write the others, I just didn't want this to be too long. I can also write specific imagines or romantic hcs if requested!

ARTHUR

He’s likely to be the first to develop a crush on you. Honestly.

Arthur finds you comforting. You carry yourself with a warmth and a certain air of confidence that makes him feel safe in your presence. He didn’t have much schooling, so he sometimes gets shy about talking about academic subjects. Still, you do manage to coax him into deeper conversations than just “mornin’” and “lovely day, ain’t it?”

Arthur is softer than he seems and sees more than he’s always willing to say. After cracking through the awkward small-talk phase of your friendship, you and Arthur begin to talk more on philosophy. He’s never considered himself all that smart, but you tell him that he’s insightful. Insightful? Him? It's enough to make him blush sometimes.

As he gets to know you better, Arthur starts to do small favors for you. Nothing too big. Just things like bringing back books from town or little trinkets he thought you might like. If you need help with your chores, he might just join you if Miss Grimshaw ain't around. Certain people in the gang have taken to calling him, "teacher's pet."

JOHN

He hardly paid you any mind, at first.

After you spent a few weeks with the gang, he started seeing you with Jack. Thought nothing of it, at first. Then it became a regular occurrence and despite himself, he got just a touch paranoid. You were brand new to the gang. A stranger. Why would Abigail let you near his her son? He confronted her only to find out that Abigail had asked you to teach Jack as his own private tutor. Needless to say, he felt a bit silly.

From what he can tell, you're not half-bad of a teacher. Jack's learning his numbers, writing his name, and is starting to ask for more books. While a part of him wants to be happy... it only vexes him further. Why would such an innocent civilian such as yourself be all the way out here?

John takes a while to warm up to you, but you proved to be less stuffy than you looked. You have a firm yet gentle way about you. And somehow, you can correct someone without ever making them feel stupid or simple for it.

DUTCH

He enjoys your keen mind and education, but he also resents it.

Dutch won't share with the others how he found you or how you became an outlaw. He likes to say that it's your story to tell. Really, he just like to know something no one else does. His reason for recruiting you was just as simple, he hadn't met someone like you before.

It's not everyday he meets an ex-teacher-turned-outlaw. Dutch found your situation interesting, unique. He does so like to collect outcasts. Especially one as educated and clean as you. Dutch starts to linger by you as you do your chores to initiate a playful debate. Unlike most in the gang, you disagree with some of his philosophies and have counterarguments that make him pause. That's not to say you've ever convinced him to change his mind, oh no. His pauses are more for him to steady himself so he doesn't show how bothered your resistance makes him.

As much as Dutch loves to spar with you mentally, he secretly finds offense in your obstinance. What you see as playful debate may just turn into a case against you as a traitor.

JAVIER

Now, this one may seem odd, but Javier is second most likely to develop a strong attraction for you. 

When he first saw you, it wasn’t precisely love at first sight. You were new, having joined just after Charles. Javier agreed with Bill that you wouldn’t last long. Everything about you just screamed, “civilian.” You dressed modestly, wore spectacles, spoke proper English, and seemed clueless as how to survive in the west. The only reason he didn’t outright resent you was because Dutch had been the one to bring you into the gang. 

The crush started around the same time you got more comfortable at camp. Sometimes you let your hair down, literally and figuratively, both of which he found very attractive. You have a mouth on you, and you aren’t scared of much. Seeing you stare down Bill for swearing in front of Jack was enough to prove that. He likes how tough but fair you are. How you’re educated but you’re not stuck up about it, unlike some he’s met. 

MARY-BETH

Is shy about it, but eventually goes to you for help with her writing.

Mary-Beth finds out that you both like “silly romance,” books and she starts to talk about how she writes her own. With it being so hard to find new things to read, you jump at the chance to read her work. Mary-Beth is quite shy about it, but she lets you read a few pages. Much to her surprise, you praise the work and ask for more. She starts to use you as an editor for some of her short stories. You enjoy her writing quite a lot and encourage her to keep going. 

You and Mary-Beth get on very well. You’re both bookworms and not too keen on violence for violence’s sake. Privately, you talk about what you hope your life will be like some day.

SEAN

Finds the fact that you’re an outlaw to be completely hilarious. 

As he gets more used to your presence, Sean starts to come to you with questions about the world. He does this because, as a teacher, he assumes you must know the answer to at least some of these. Questions like, “Why do we call ducks and geese different things when they look alike?” or “How’d we even decide what to name things? Did we see an orange’n on a trre an’ tink, ‘Oh now that’s an orange!’ or did we already have the color all sorted out? How’d they name colors to begin with?”

Sean will sometimes follow you around camp to ask you these questions, and the gang finds it quite funny. You’ll just be doing your chores with Sean slinking behind you as his mouth runs a mile a minute. What surprises most is that you usually at least try to give him an answer. Some folks didn’t believe you were really a teacher when you first joined… They believed you after they saw how patient you can be with Sean. 

ABIGAIL

First, she was suspicious of you. Then, she trusted you more than most.

Once Abigail was certain you weren’t going to sprint back into town to turn everyone in, she had a favor to ask. Jack was getting older and although Hosea and Dutch offered to teach him to read and write, they hadn’t the time to start. She asked you to teach him whatever you could when time allowed. You were excited to help, eager. Jack being as young as he was, took to your lessons fast. In little time, you were helping him sound out sentences and write his name. This started a new problem for Abigail, however. She never learned to read or write herself. Jack would try to show her his work, or ask her to read him a story, and she couldn’t.

Instead of shaming her, you offered to teach her how to read as well. Abigail refused at first, but relented when you said she could teach you how to sew in return. Through her, you start to feel more a part of the gang.

MOLLY

She only started to have a problem with you once she realized you weren’t some old hag.

When you first joined the gang, you were still dressing like a teacher. Your clothes were bulky and formless, hair all pulled back in a bun, and you were quiet. As you got more into the outlaw life, you started to dress a bit more like the other women. Started showing more of your personality. And more importantly, Dutch started to pull you aside more often. 

Molly can’t help but feel paranoid about you and Dutch. When she spies in on you two, all she sees is you both reading or debating. It’s not as if he’s holding your hand or whispering in your ear… but it feels wrong. Dutch talks to you about things he won’t talk to her about. Books, philosophy, world events, the strange and esoteric. It feels like you satisfy him in a way she can’t, and Molly comes unglued thinking about it. 

[tumblingxelian]

The "real" Batman

I see people complain about the emphasis some people put on Batmans more negative character traits a lot.

"That's not the real Batman, that's flanderiztion, fanon, a few bad but popular adaptions, the 90's only" and the like are common refrains and it really gets to me. Cos see, while I am aware no incarnation of Batman is totally one note, I emphasize the more negative sides of Batman for reasons that aren't "Edgy, badass, GRRR, Toxic masculinity woooh" bullshit and I hate being dismissed as such.

So, here's why I do it:

First is because of general frustration at the dismissal of any incarnation of Batman, regardless of popularity, or ongoing presence in the main-line comics and timelines, being invalid. IE, the "HE's not the real Batman so he doesn't count" when he canonically is, & as done stuff like that.

60s/80s Batman smiles after sending a purse snatcher away in an Ambulance, kidnaps & others relies on torture style interrogations. Just like 90s/2000's Batman threatens people with assault in prison & looms over a Mugger he slammed so hard into a wall it left a giant blood splatter.

It is fair to ague that brutality is not all of what he is, that's valid. But that side of him is not something I feel one can just handwaved away as "not canon" & people doing so frustrate me in large part because it feels intellectually dishonest. Its refusing to engage with a metric ton of the canonical lore of a character they are discussing.

Secondly is the fact that a lot of the lore, history, character development, derailment, treatment, tone, framing and more for characters OTHER than Batman relies on him having a history of problematic behavior.

Cassandra basically living in a Bat-Cave with no civilian life or identity because Bruce is giving her what HE wants for himself even though its bad for both of them is just an example of a huge part of their dynamic. One that can be deeply damaging, self destructive and messy, but also makes perfect sense given the characters involved.

How Jason's entire shift in character and framing was done largely to insulate Bruce from criticism over his death, IE, Jason being characterized post death as violent, arrogant, not particularly bright and then coming back as a villain also ties into 20 something years of smearing his name to protect Bruce's.

Stephanie's entire character history begins falling apart if Batman doesn't treat her like the trash he did in canonical mainline comics, and leaves her with only a couple of borderline cameos at best. Hell, even 'new' stuff where he's "nicer" still has him do things like fake therapy appointments to trick her.

Hell, even Dick in a lot of incarnations as well as mainline comics at different times has a lot of issues that came from being raised/trained by Bruce. No, it isn't universal, but it is far too common & recurring of an element to just say "doesn't count!" & declare the discussion over.

& the thing is, when people say they want the "Real" batman or the "Good" Batman, they not only erase these characters histories. They don't replace it with anything worthwhile for anyone but Bruce himself.

If ignoring all that meant replacing it with stuff like Jason never died & or never became Red Hood & is a totally different character. Or Cassandra and Bruce having arcs about their obsessions with vigilantism at the expense of their personal lives, or Stephanie actually getting to be ROBIN. Then it would be something at least somewhat interesting to engage with. But they don't, instead Jason still became a supervillain & is the Red Hood, Stephanie still got fired if she was Robin at all.

They are either forgotten (Cass & Steph) or end up being warped (Jason) so their characters history, everything is different and all to better serve making Bruce look good. I really find it vexing that even in "Batman is not a jerk" stuff, he still warps the narrative to everyone else's detriments.

[its-actually-minicika]

Dragon Sickness

Part 2;

Pairing: Bookcanon!Aemond x Strong!Niece!Reader;

Warnings: No usage of Y/N, bookcanon Greens, potential spoilers for Fire&Blood (but not really), dubious consent, allusions to sex, to male masturbation and oral from Aemond (female receiving - he just wants to tickle your pickle with his fingers and mouth but yk), slight angst, minor and major character death, vague descriptions of death by asphyxiation;

For the sake of keeping characters as close to canon as I can, the eye that Aemond lost was his right, not his left!

Word Count: 7k+;

Author's Note: Repost because yeah...

Reblogs would be really appreciated, since I believe I was shadowbanned :") ♡

Sorry for taking so long with getting this next part out ♡ I wanted to make sure it's perfect (or as close to perfect as I can get it), because the last thing I desire is to post something I'm not proud of/I wouldn't personally read :")

This gif was made by the love of my life and the moon to my sun - @aemondx here on Tumbr ♡ if you aren't already following her, definitely follow her right now now. I'll wait. The story will wait. She is absolutely amazing, and the sweetest person ever.

I also dedicate this chapter to my literal soulmate @diamantesprincess , who beta-read this whole shit-storm for me, and supported my insane antics ♡

Young girls dream about their wedding day. And women prepare themselves for the humiliation bestowed upon them by the raptures of the night.

Her cheeks flushed with the expectancy that was thrown before her – the avid sting that prickled her skin, flooded her veins and broke her soul. She could feel her smooth-green gown stick to her contorted form. The horrid fires of lashing out already licking at the corners of her downturned mouth.

The Velaryon thus swallowed thickly, whilst flickering her eyes by nigh to each corner of the squaring table. She needn’t glance into the silver plating to ensure what she had known, simply owed to the salacious heat that downed her heart in poisoned terror. How vexing it had been for her to hear the former Queen about – darting to her wedding night, hinting at her lack of purity. How terribly uncertain she’d felt, when Aemond all but abandoned her on that rueful and exerting night.

She’d searched feverishly for his company, trying to converse with him, to allude him to take interest, to inspire him to like her. But her attempts were answered with indifference, with clumsy lines of conversations, which never led her far in musings.

“– Even so, I trust that you understand your duty.”

She couldn’t have been quiet for long. For she felt how her mouth lulled opened, if only to blurt out a passive admission to Alicent’s extended words. Still she felt the decades pass, turning her old, and mean, and cold, as an ample flood of pain engulfed her sparring and incisive heart. The Queen Dowager sighed, either by lack of blitheness or by wry exhaustion, and merely shook her head at the sight of the conflicted bastard.

She supposed she should be grateful – for a private bedding brought across no prying eyes upon her form, upon her skin and womanhood; upon the shame she would soon feel, to spread her legs for the Qybor who slayed her kin. But a private bedding meant she'd have to be alone with him. A private bedding was unsafe, for it meant her maiden blood wouldn't have to be the one staining their rivetting sheets. And Aemond had killed men before, his flesh and blood, innocent spawn – so was there anything that would ensure he wouldn't cut her very throat?

A silent tear obscured her view, and one of Helaena’s beetles boldly flew nearby her plate.

Satin green and oryx white, silky blue and striking violet.

To be born a female was a wright cursed account.

Upon her birth, she belonged to her father. And when he died, she fitted Daemon. She suited to her brother, Jace, to the whims of the New Seven, and very soon to those of Aemond.

When she was young, her Septa was the one to tell her the story of her feeble birth – how she was good and quaint and quiet, how she had not ensued hard labour. How her mother cried when she saw her small and portly face. And how she sighed with half restraint at the notion of her naked sex.

To be born the cursed sex stripped one of their whole autonomy.

Benevolence was to be found within the weakness of a poor female.

‘The girls are easier than the boys,’ The woman nodded as she spoke, ‘They're less rowdy and quick to anger. Easier to marry, too.’

To be born a female meant a deconstructive marriage. Simply something that must happen, not a matter of debate.

To be born a female meant fantasizing about that marriage. Salaciously filling your head with hopeful dreams of charming knights, or handsome princes and comely lords.

To be born a female was underestimated work. Work put up by sons and fathers, whose sole purpose of providing to the girl they had to care for was to find her a good husband.

A future to be predecided, set in stone and judged throughout – all in valour of a missing cock, and a lack of tiny stones.

When Rhaenyra married Daemon, she was happy for her loving mother.

‘I want to be just as beautiful on my wedding day!’ Her voice chirped through the halls of Dragonstone, whilst rotating about the room, chased by an ongoing Jace, ‘We’ll have a pigeon cake the size of a young hatchling, and a venue bigger than that made of the smallfolk of King’s Landing!’

‘Maybe one that smells better, though,’ Jace snickered inside her ear, earning a brisk tickle from his younger sister, ‘But you’re right, my darling sister, it’s better to stay realistic!’

A loud fit of giggles erupted from the waiting children. Rhaenyra only glanced at Daemon, who in turn shook his head, bemused by her swallowing visions.

‘Whatever prompts you to even believe your mother and I will allow such a thing?’ The Rogue Prince graced her with a trumping smirk, as the girl’s face fell to a slouch.

‘I’ll have to get married one day!’ She rebutted her stepfather, ‘With a strong knight in shining armour, or a chivalrous Lord from an important House!’

‘I would be very careful with what I want,’ He mimicked a serious and grieving tone, ‘So far you could only marry Tyland Lannister or Kermit Tully!’

‘There will be yet some time before that happens, sweet girl.’ Rhaenyra grinned at her daughter’s eagerness, pushing down the rotten feeling that gnawed beneath her bludgeon gown. She placed her hand atop her cheek and gingerly grazed the youth’s plumpness with a soft, motherly touch. ‘A couple of years from now on, at best!’ She hummed into her tender caress and opened her mouth to speak again, 'till Jacaerys’ mellow voice cut the base of her new words.

Her eyes widened to the size of two round plates, and the young Velaryon merely scrunched her nose up in dissatisfaction. ‘Kermit wouldn’t be that bad…’ She tried to reason with herself, ‘And his sister, Celia, is very nice! We would get along quite well.’

‘Of course, of course –’ Jace nodded in understanding, before throwing Luke a mischievous look, ‘Or you could always marry Aemond – he’d be quite a match, you know!”

Silence ensued for a while, until all three children broke down in their hysteric fits of laughter.

‘Oh, Gods be good…!’ She murmured lowly, shock and aversion evident on her once impatient face.

She’d found herself someone who loved her, someone whom she could amply trust. A man that’d be reliant for her, in her times of greatest fraught.

When the War of Ravens first ensued, it was he and her small brothers who went to deliver envoys. When Luke died, it was he who mended and arranged the curdling scheme of Blood and Cheese. And when Aemond took a hold of Harrenhal, cruelly burning at their allies’ lands… it was he who gave his life in an attempt to free their folk.

“Gods be good…!” Her voice strained through the musings of her handmaiden, so preoccupied with lacing up her constricting and excessive corset. “Could you go in any tighter?” Her snapping question deterred the young girl to remove her calloused hands from the fine silks that engulfed her. All of the other women who tended to her hair and eyes took a backwards convoluted step and, as if whipped across the face and wholly burnt by dragon fire, they froze up in minute poses – all of them gripping their hands, and looking down in taught submission.

Breathless and submerged in bashness, her reddened lips pressed to a line, as her gaze followed their in suit, falling on the stone below her.

“I’m sorry,” She began with a taut pitch, while expelling one of her brisk and tantalising breaths, “I didn’t mean to shout at you. That was below any level of discretion.”

"W-Would you like us to continue, Your Grace?" One of the older-looking wenches dared to ask the fair Velaryon.

No, she ached to bring herself to say, I'd stay like this, still half-undressed. Unpresentable for him to take.

"Of course," Her meek voice echoed in reply, "You must make haste to get me ready. The wedding is in but an hour."

Tens of dozen of pairs of hands flooded her every sensation with their ceaseless and insistent prodding. The softest of the cluster played with the slicked ends of her charcoal hair, adorning it with a myriad of pins and jewels, grazing her scalp with heavy and relenting hairstyles. Now there was prudence in her tying corset – as if she were a rabid beast who’d sink her claws into their necks, if only she’d feel indisposed by their way of picked-up working.

For the first time since her ladies swarmed into her darkened chamber, the girl’s leer settled on the gown before her. She took in a quick breath through the margins of her teeth, whilst feeling her stomach wail and churn with an unkept overzeal.

Her dress was of a deep set black, which seemed more fitting for a funeral than for a joyous feast precarred soon after by a most imposing wedding. Yet upon a closer look, the brims which laced its puffy bottoms smiled to her in rueful red.

Surprise etched upon her face, and the coy women must have noticed, for they all stopped forthwith again. She brought a hand to the light fabric, and grazed it slowly with her fingers.

She almost hummed in chasmal worry, before fixating her eyes away.

“Apologies, but who told you to bring this dress?” Her voice reverberated with a faint but levelled question, and a retort came back her way.

“The Prince Aemond, Your Grace,” What she assumed was a slight seamstress replied for the whole gathering, “He requested that his vest should also bear your House’s symbols.”

Surprise merged with upheld amusement, until her judgement simmered down to a least lenient of views – since the Blacks were there no more, what point was there for an exorbant gown with any shades of ghastly Green?

No matter his good-hearted message, Aemond hadn’t done it for her. Just like Alicent hadn’t proposed a marriage with her son for her clemented and invested sake.

There was no more point for her to wear his sickly green. There was no reason for the usurpers to display their endless rows of utter power.

Her family was dead. All she knew had gone with them – swallowed wholly by the sea, or by Sunfyre, by Vhagar.

“I see,” Her vocal cords strained with her roughened and perturbed reply, “It’s very beautiful,” She whispered not a heartbeat later, as she turned to the appraised seamstress, “Thank you. You must have worked very hard.”

As everyone resumed their tasks, a trailing truth pierced through her heart – she now had no family left to lead her to the Greater Sept.

His collar fell too tight on him.

He noticed late, as she approached him.

He swallowed thickly once before her, as his burnt brother gripped her hand.

Her softened smile lit up her face, though the disgust within her eyes unveiled her sickly mild facade. A rattled thought surged through his chest, mending with akin distraught. He knew full well she didn’t love him, but at the least, he’d have to try. The subtlety of her rejection stabbed right through his nervous gut, but still the Prince looked down upon her, gracing her with a half-smile.

The ease with which she then returned it relieved the throbbing underneath his leather patch, and as she mouthed him her timid greeting, the man bowed deeply in reply.

“You may now cloak the bride, and bring her under your protection.” The Septon’s voice instructed deeply, snapping both out of their trance.

His calloused fingers unclasped the belts from his broad and heaving shoulders – the cape fell heavily into his hands, yet Aemond still approached his Lady, and placed the Targaryen embroidered mantle atop her tense and fragile shoulders.

Brown eyes clashed with an unnerving lilac – both bride and groom sucked in a breath, and yet refused to look away.

The silence of the Sept was deadly, and as Aemond closed his eye, allowing his relentless thoughts to slip into a hurried prayer, he swore that every witness to their union would hear the keen beats of his heart.

The High Septon clasped his wrinkled hands together, drawing a faint and muffled noise which reverberated through the clearing – signalling to the lost children to place their hands into the other’s.

His Lady was the first to reach him. Shyly she grazed his palm with the smooth padding of her index finger, flattering an anxious probe which distilled his wilted heart, and brought heat into his cheeks.

Her small diversion urged him to press back into her – with a doubting and reserved caress made with his thicker middle finger.

The man bit into his inner cheek, as he aligned his palm to hers, and waited patiently for the Septon to bind their hands with the white linen.

“In sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one, for eternity.”

Her thumb gently caressed his own in an attempt to soothe his breaths. Though her smile had broadened yet, her eyebrows twisted to a brazen furrow. The old man hummed with unturned patience, and he nodded at their leisured and unhurried movements.

“Look upon each other and say the words.”

His chest tightened with unruly pride, as her cheeks flushed with a deep colour, which grew to match the lacings of her fitted cobbler – both took a moment to compose themselves, before Aemond’s voice filled the room with the silk-smooth baritone of his levelled and protruding tone.

“Father, Smith, Warrior,” His lone orb swirled with both uncertainty and desire, as her own voice ushered him suit, “Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger.”

Her chest heaved with a weighty exhale, and her pushed bosom shifted in her dainty dress. Abashed by his sexual intrusion, Aemond focused his left eye on the shape of her inviting lips.

Though they said the words in unison, only her better half beset his ears, “I am his, and he is mine.”

“From this day, until the end of my days,” The Targaryen hushed in return.

Thousand of cheers erupted in the Great Sept, and Aegon even whistled lowly, but nought of the crowd’s boastful words engrained themselves into his mind.

“With this kiss, I pledge my love.”

His mouth pressed hungrily against her own, with a force and desperation that dispersed her every hope for a chaste, intimate peck. The shape of his lips moulded against her with an ease that left her wanting – wanting for it to end, for him to stop, for him to keep going.

His scent invaded her diluted senses, and flashes of her brothers’ faces danced across her hazy view. And just as Aemond was about to deepen and take his uncouth ministrations further, the greying Septon interjected with a subtle but alluding cough.

Despite the fact that he refused to speak to her since the incursive night of their engagement, the palpable need and excitement that seemingly had gathered in him burst for all high lords and petty maidens to see. Coveting whispers reached the girl’s reddened ears – each muttered truth more beguiling than the last.

‘A Kinslayer and a bastard… what an ill match for the grandeur of the Great Sept.’

With her mouth slightly agape and her breath still somewhat staggered, the former Velaryon avoided his stare, with an adamant and willful steer.

Her own eyes began to water. And the aching sadness that curled into her vrying soul muted out any reminder of the crowd’s elated boasts.

What had happened was now irreversible; and the Greens would host a banquet in honour of the newlyweds. Goblets would drown her violent sorrows, food would fill them like fattened-up pigs for cutting.

Aemond would breach her with his cock if he felt disposed to do it. Then he might smother her face, or cut her throat with the same dagger that he used on her late brother.

For why else would he deny a prim and proper bedding ceremony?

Though her eyes still looked at him, and a smile still spurred her lips, the girl swallowed down a prayer.

Perhaps he had grown to like her. She’d been good to him in those past weeks.

The High Septon yelled over the cheering crowd, cutting down each thought that breached through her weary and misguided mind.

“Let it be known that they are now one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder!”

Then cursed be she, in the light of the Seven.

The dizzying nature of the fifth waltz of the night left everyone in the Great Hall drained and panting – fully taken by the mistifying anticipation caused by the encapsulating ardour of Prince Aemond’s wedding reception. Roaring applauses erupted from the few women seated at the high tables – Aegon’s eyes followed the wanton skirts of the lowborn maidens, and even Helaena disregarded her fattened caterpillar to grace the crowd with her absent-minded stare.

At the centre of the King’s table stood the Court’s styled “star-crossed lovers”, each seemingly preoccupied with avoiding any further dancing at any and all occuring costs.

The girl’s fingers traced over the rim of the wine goblet, glancing from time to time at her newly acquired husband, who seemed hammered in his seat and not at all wanting for chatter. The dim lighting of the candled room sprawled its shadows all across his tired features, which loomed all the more sharp and perusing with each notion of a passing hour. His lack of joyful disposition was clear and evident for all to see – for even his contented mother had chastised him under her breath.

Alas, any notion of stability had at large been long repressed, and not even her able chirping managed to pry at her son’s attention.

As her eyes trailed lower yet, over the arch of his broad chest, and the poignant veins of his clenched fist, the Targaryen gasped at the obvious arousal restrained in his black leather pants. Her face turned promptly to the side, before anyone’s conviction should follow her indiscreet trail.

Another smile graced her red lips, as a very drunkened Lord tripped across her narrow view. He approached her with bemusing boldness, borne out of believed renown, and introduced himself as Quince Webber: a lower lord within the Reach, ‘right across the Arbour seat’. His puffy face was basked in red, an indication of his mind’s plied state – and as he blabbered on his woven lapses on what wedded life should be, the Lady bowed her head with grace, thus managing to stop his spiel.

He slurred over his predicted wordings in a heavy and relentless breath, but still managed to congratulate the twain for their well-thought-out alliance.

“Thank you, my Lord, I am indeed very lucky.” Her cheeks hurt from all the smiling, but still she forced herself to laugh, “Aemond has been very kind to me.” She turned to face his stare, abashed, and allowed her hand to touch him. The charcoal leather of his broidered vest burnt her at the faintest touch, and the girl had to stifle a gasp at the arid heat which charred her palm.

“He has, he has!” The lord of Coldmoat agreed well-pleased. A wolfish grin spread across his droopy face, pulling both his plump cheeks higher. An impish laugh beleft his lips, as he took a swing of liquor from a nearby empty glass.

The corner of her smiling eye darted back to that of Aemond, who merely glanced through the drunk lord with a horriedly vexated look.

“Although,” He teased them with a slurred hic, “I can’t say he’ll be nice to you when the bedding ceremony will ensue!”

Wholeheartedly amused at his inappropriate and shrivelled joke, the old man began to laugh, much to Aemond’s disarray.

His fists came into contact with the sprawled-out wooden table, shaking every cutlery which remained scattered across it. The lively whispering of the Great Hall ceased with his vicious display, and even his contented brother jerked his shoulders in dismay.

“Aemond,” Alicent spat out his name, as her face turned cold and wary. “Perhaps it’s time you two retire.”

A restless snarl etched from his throat, and he looked ready to pounce – were it not for the soft hand that touched him, and the sanity utter of her voice, which managed to somewhat reground him, and contort poor Webber’s choice.

But as cruel fate would weave and have it, another end would spend their night.

“Aemond,” His Lady tried to coax him in, “Let’s listen to your mother… please?” Her fevered eyes adamantly searched for his, until a strange yearning and passion registered on his reluctant face. His hand gripped hers in pure devotion, and his large thumb ran over her flaring knuckles, as she'd done so many times before for him.

The lord’s lost face painted over with uncouth excitement, and he turned his back around, almost hitting Daeron’s face.

“It’s time for the bedding ceremony!” He announced the crowd quite loudly, and tens of voices of plastered men rose with every passing second. Some of them swarmed close to the couple, some tried to pick the girl from her leering resting place. Most barely launched up their feet, struggling to uphold their balance.

“There will be no bedding ceremony tonight.” Aemond’s dark and frigid voice thundered through the cluttered hall. Women sighed in great relief, while the men and boys began to bicker.

“It’s tradition!”

“I’ve been told specifically that it would take place.”

“Such stupidity!”

“I bet Renly six gold dragons that –”

“The King long announced there would be none.” Otto’s otherwise calm voice resounded with a harshened tone.

“Has he now?” A slurring lord took three wide steps in the direction of the pressured lady. Her whole face morphed into preleened discomfort, as she placed both her hands upfront. “Oh, don’t you even think about it…!” She warned him with a throaty hiss, but before his hand could graze her, Aemond grabbed his arching fists.

When his nervous gaze settled on his face, he smiled.

The lord clawed at his darkened neck, for Aemond forced him in a kneeling stance, and wrapped his hands around his throat. The timber in his chilling voice rained affront with his obduring malice, sending a shiver down the bent spines of the mere on-watchers, “You wish to gaze upon my wife tonight, Lord Ashford?” The callous ends of his slim digits dug into his purple skin, “You want to see her naked form, and compare her dripping sex to your own wife’s loosened cunny?”

The older man opened his mouth – but the pressure on his wielded neck impedimented his speaking manner and, much like a fish that’d been hoisted out of water, he could barely form a word.

“N…No-n-no – I’m s-s-”

“You’re sorry?” His eyebrows rose in feigned surprise. His wails of anguish pierced his heart – and yet his grip didn't uncurl. “You’re sorry now, are you?”

“Aemond, that is enough!” Alicent’s chastising shouts failed to break his unsound trance. Among the mistifying flock of ladies, the Velaryon stood high, but frozen. Her parlous specks of deep brown eyes bore into the shocking scene, as her own transfigured hand prodded at her covered neck.

"You've heard, perhaps, what happened with little Luke Strong, the bastard.” Her own eyes widened at his cruel retorts, and her deft fist grabbed at her skirts. Despite it being aimed to scare the stupid and unbashful lord, Aemond’s dicey did nought else but expose her to the whole crowd whole.

The heated blade of loss and ire impaled her through her aching chest, cutting both her breath and temper and deterring her to simply shake.

“– I'll gouge your eyes out and present them as a wedding gift to my wife."

Little Luke. Jace. Rhaenyra. Daemon.

Joff. Rhaenys. Corlys. Allyn.

Baela. Rhaena. Viserys. Aegon.

“I-I’m b– begging you–”

Little Luke. Jace. Rhaenyra. Daemon –

“Then beg. Beg my wife for her forgiveness.”

Joff. Rhaenys. Corlys. Allyn –

“My L– My Lady, p-please…!”

Baela. Rhaena. Viserys. Aegon.

Mother, mother, mother, mother –

“Please, Aemond, stop! Just stop!” Her own voice screeched into the balling clearing, as the sound of breaking bones and the smell of copper blood menged right through her very veins. “Stop. It’s enough. It’s alright. I’m alright. Please–”

Her panicked breathing flooded her ears. Her lack of presence drowned her in.

Her husband threw her an affrighted look, as he instantly let go of the man’s entwisted neck.

He crawled closer to his own wife’s feet. His piqued-up breathing staggered for a brief momentum.

For two or three seconds they waited.

And then quietness enwrapped the Realm.

Her honeyed voice had reached his ears.

"We're man and wife now, you and I.” She began with a faint murmur, and a small smile on her lips, “We must start talking to each other. Eventually, I mean."

She spoke to him in utter earnest, despite her voice’s nervous edge.

Alas he must not have replied to her, for her body shifted in her narrow seat, ducking away from him in recluded and uptight tension. “I’d like there to be no secrets between us – I’d like for us to tell each other whatever happens to be on our mind.”

The alluring scent of her dark hair, the creamy skin of her bare shoulders…

His breathing turned close to erratic, as he morphed his hands to fists. But two waltzes he had danced with her, before he felt his breeches tighten, bringing forth his quaint undoing.

He would have stayed in bitter silence, focused on the passing hours – were it not for the unlucky words that the brittle lord had uttered.

Oh, and how she looked into his eye; full of shock and brittle terror.

She must have been scared of him. For she was shaking like a leaf.

The walk to their marital chamber loomed with ever-pressing silence.

If only he could read her thoughts – then he might just mend his error.

“I rather liked the pigeon pie.” Her voice came out as weak and gruff, “Though it was far too big for those at present.”

When his answer wouldn’t beckon, the Lady turned and closed her eyes. She snapped her head in his direction, faltering her present smile. “I think that what you did was very chivalrous and brave, my Prince.”

The corner of his left eye widened, as her words registered in. The margins of her flimsy skirts kissed the ground atop her form – the swish and flicker of the candles remained the only source of noise.

The corners of his mouth bent slightly, at her ludicrous but fair assertion. Whether he had meant to thank her, or kiss her on that very spot, the Prince failed to puzzle out. Though his step halted in place, and his face turned briskly to her.

“Aemond,” He sighed, reluctant, whilst awaiting for her change of heart, “You said it yourself, we’re man and wife. You should start calling me Aemond.”

Her daring eyes looked up right through him, dissolving to a kindred stare. “Then you should also use my name… Aemond.” She uttered with a playful tone, testing his name upon her lips. “Though I… much prefer it when you call me ‘wife’.”

His reply was fast, forthright, “I’ll call you whatever you wish.”

“Then…” She began with a weak mutter, allowing her hair to hide her face, “No, forgive me, never mind.”

“Tell me,” He commanded with grave urgency.

Tell me of anything and I will make it yours.

“Mayhaps,” His Lady paused a while again, “You’d agree to call me your ‘dear wife’?”

His cock twitched inside his pants. The blood that pigmented his face descended lower in its lax pursuit.

All that you need do is ask.

“Anything you want,” His voice rumbled in a breathless timber before he could stop himself, “Dear wife.”

She must have thanked him with a smile again. All she did those days was smile.

She smiled when that low lord approached her. She smiled at her engagement feast. She smiled when Aemond took her dancing.

“I trust,” Alicent had swallowed deeply, “That your mother already taught you what’ll occur after the wedding.”

Better said during the bedding. When she’d be forced to spread her legs for the one man who’d damned them all.

She smiled when Aegon named her bastard. She smiled at the mention of her sweet dead brother.

She hummed as she touched her fingers, rotating her golden rings.

“What of Aly Blackwood?” Her eyes pried at her heavy conscience, “You said that if I marry Aemond, you’d think of a way to release her and make peace with Benjicot’s House.”

–

Her trail of thought was pulled before her, like a feeble dream which she won't reach.

The handle of a leaden door was yanked, pulsing the quaint hall with clatter, and basking her with a warm light.

“We’re here.”

Though wailing dread flooded her senses, her voice came out in slight bemusement.

“It isn’t furnished.”

“I wanted you to have a say.” The depthness of his mellow tune carried out his crass remark, “I didn’t know how many dresses you’d have.”

The notion of her moving in, of sleeping side by side with him, of sharing a bed and a mattress and a bath with him – it hadn’t failed to make her snort.

Hidden from his plane of sight, she allowed a distant scowl to break in her pretty features.

She wanted to scream and shout. To lash out in grave disconcern the moment his revolting hands came in contact with her lower back, urging her to step inside. She wanted to laugh at him – at the sight of his scarred face, his forceful probe and lack of honour.

“You’re so thoughtful, Aemond. Thank you.”

A grave unease surged in her gut. Pure fright prickled at the apex of her thighs. Her once loose dress seemed to constrict her form from running – from hitting him over the head and at last make her escape.

A pained sigh escaped his lips – the One-Eyed Prince who killed her family.

The Kinslayer. The Trident’s Terror. The Prince Protector of the Realm.

Almost as if he could sense her worry, the lithe Targaryen beckoned her in.

There’d been a moment when he only looked at her, bearing holes into her face and the front lobe of her skull, as his thick brows twisted slightly, jarring in misguided silence. Her jaw clenched involuntarily, as his face hithered in closer. She closed her eyes for two, three seconds, before she opened them again.

The lack of ease with which he gawped at her would have dearly made her laugh. The great and feared Aemond Targaryen, so incursed, taken aback.

He exhaled deeply in connived frustration, and simply took a few steps back. A rumbled hum of welting havoc trailed behind his high-arched lips, and a simple look of ardour was engraved on his sharp face.

The hands which had been snaked around her let her go within an instant, and as a curse sprung from his throat, the man found refuge and retreat towards the blazing fireplace. The girl followed his lenient steps, which faltered near the goatskin armchair.

His hands moved in accord with stress. Stiffly he had poured himself a hefty glass of liquid courage – swallowing it down with haste, and indifference towards the spectacle that he made with his demeanour.

His hands were shaking. His gulps of dark and bitter wine accentuated with every guise of stolen looks he dared to throw and hatch her way. At one point through his fretful jitter, the Prince snapped with a scorned hiss.

"Do you reckon you need help with your black dress, my dearest wife?” The rattled edge within his voice echoed through the room's long walls – his tone was mystified by pain, by torturous need, and want, and lust.

"N-No, my love, that I do not." She tried with shear to reach her lacings, as her mouth quirked with a smile. The desolation in her orbs spun the man to heave a sigh – his wobbled hand to reach his collar, and pull at it with forced renown.

Multitudes of scattered feelings reveled on her softened face – pain and fear, disgust and anger, lack of confidence and broad distress.

Inch by inch she thus revealed patches of her creamy skin. Feeling all her fingers stiffen with perturbed stilling discomfort, shame and angst and staid mistrust.

Although her corset was now loosened, the source of air within her lungs remained scarce and all the same.

She maintained his carnal stare, watching how his one eye darkened, turning to an opaque black. His lips pressed into a line, his furrowed brows deepened his stare – he gulped another hoist of wine and swallowed thickly at her chaffing stare. His adam's apple bobbed up and down in repressed bewilderment and apt surrender. His weary mind surged with a vast contrast of thoughts, each one more torturous and sparse than the mentioned fleeting latter.

He felt utterly inadequate.

He'd touched and fucked women before – handmaidens that caught his eye, wenches that offered their heat, servant girls who lured him in.

But none had managed to prepare him for the unrelieved pressure of her. Of the one woman he loved, of the one he wanted most.

She'd been kind to him when they were children – and remained polite throughout when he dared to rain his anger on his ludicrous half-sister.

He regretted every hostile instance where he hurt her with his words. And every bite full of prone venom, that he threw her brothers' way.

He regretted how he acted, when he killed the raucous lord. How he taunted him with perverse pleasure, how he named Luke's shocking perish right across from his sweet wife – knowing somewhere all too well that she'd take offence to it.

His face felt numb, his limbs felt heavy. He wanted to denude her slowly, to prode at the extended nature of her smooth and nuanced skin. To devote himself to her fair pleasure, to worship the slickness of her womanhood with a reverence and love perturbed.

He longed to lay his masculinity at the altar of her maidenhood, get on his knees and devout his being to making her peak with him – on his tongue, on his slim fingers, on his chin, or on his face.

He’d read the ways to get a cunt wet – it would take no less good skill and incredible amounts of patience; but for her, he’d gladly wait, and gently stretch her virgin hole, with the aid of his firm touch and the pulsing of his deepened voice.

He closed his eye in a small prayer, as he begged his Gods for guidance – to be able to bring her to the heightened cliffs of sinful rapture, to be able to prove himself as a man fit for her needs.

To make her love him in return, perhaps, and make her see his side of things.

As he remained hammered in place, trying his hardest to regain control over his trembled conscious and his indulgent thoughts, the man failed to notice how his Lady made impressive progress into her methodical and empty musings.

Her head hung low as she undid the lacings of her fitted garment. Her eyes were cast in shadowed doubt and in utter lack of certainty – her breathing came as fast and laboured, and her hands with-held a tremor with every new poignant display of another patch of skin.

Unbeknownst even to her, hot tears of merciless aversion rolled off her rosy cheeks, landing on her petticoat and the cold stone ground below them.

The Prince sucked a jarring breath, as she turned to face the bed with a heartbreaking and crushed compliance. Her softened eyes peered at his form, and a forceful smile unfurled along the corners of her swollen lips.

His expression must have tightened, and his form recoil in slightly – for her hazy eyes enwrapped him, and her shapely brow rose up.

“Aemond…?” She tried to lace her voice with sweetness, “Do you–” The latter words died on her lips, and she remained with her mouth parted, until her thoughts surged loudly clear.

“Should I… d-do you want me to sit in any way?”

The hoarseness in her tender voice made the man pale in disgrace.

“You’re scared of me.” He long admitted, with a rough and neutral tone.

Aemond’s feet carried him slowly, towards the place in which she stood. When his hand came to rest over her wet cheek, she stiffened up and almost winced.

“Why are you so afraid of me?” The desperation in his utter broke the silence of their spacious room, “I would never hurt you. I would sooner die than see you in pain.”

Realisation settled in, and her lost face morphed with awareness. She brought her palm smooth on his own, and searched despairingly to entwine their hands together. When she opened her mouth to speak, she blinked away her forming tears.

“No, my P– Aemond. I could never be afraid of you.”

“Yet here you stand,” He murmured weakly, “Half-naked before me, and shaking.”

“The chamber just feels very cold.” His wife hung onto the excuse. “I’m sorry, I didn’t – I swear to you that I do want this –”

“I will not bed you.” He hummed as he wiped off her tears – a soft and feeble grazing led about by the callous ends of his smooth pads.

Her face breached forward with mistrust, as her weary mouth lulled open, “W-What? No, Aemond, believe me, I–”

“I will not bed you,” The Prince repeated to her gently, “Not until you ask me to.”

A disgruntled and affronted sigh left the high arch of his lips, yet an understanding look rained across his lustful stare. The one hand which hung loosely by his side trailed a slow path to her jolting shoulder. He swallowed thickly before speaking, pushing down his burning desire.

"Ziry iksos ao qilōni lurksas issa kesīr." The meek admission in High Valyrian made her relax into his touch, "Nyke jāhor daor gaomagon mirros bona mazverdagon ao zūgagon."

The Prince staggered with a shaky breath, whilst looking her into the eye. "Skoro syt kostagon ao ūndegon bona?"

Although she tried so hard to speak, not a word etched from her throat. She nodded in undisplayed wonder, and gripped her husband by the shirt.

He took her balling fists in his, and kissed atop the even skin.

Thoughts strengthened with affirmed abhorrence steered clear through her befuddled mind – there may be hope to fix the error that she so tactlessly set off that night.

And yet before she could place Aemond’s hands down the shape of her small back, the Prince grabbed his sharpened knife, and merely nicked his open palm.

Droplets of deep-crimson liquid seeped into the whitened sheets, and the girl remained upright and frozen, as she watched him clean his blade and rummage through his modest cupboard for a piece of airy cloth.

With one hand he gripped the footboard – and began to firmly shove it into the stone wall up ahead.

The avid creaking of the bed turned into a pleased refrain. One not too fast, but not too slow, which carried on for a few minutes.

Outside their petulant and guarded door, whistles of men and cheers from women crassly seeped into their ears. Though most were muffled down by the sensitive and leal guards, some managed to blurt out half-enthused encouragements upon their midnight escapades.

A flow of compliments descended upon Aemond’s lasting pace – and some of the more improper ladies even dared to coo at her.

“It’ll feel better once you give it time, sweetling!”

“You simply must confine in us what it was like to ride a dragon!”

How utterly humiliating.

Like all bad things within the world, their idle and unseemly chatter ceased after a little while. Aemond sighed and stopped his motions, while granting her a knowing look.

“I’ll remain here for mere more moments. Then I’ll leave you for the night.”

‘N-No!” Her eyes widened in mistrust, as she gnawed her bottom lip. Almost too soon for her own well liking, she’d begged incessantly for him to stay. “Please remain near me, sweet husband… I so long to sleep by you.”

When her words seemed to elude him, she reached for his wounded hand, giving it a slight caress. She pressed her lips atop his cut, and devotedly looked up at him.

“Ao vestretan bona nyke udrāzma ao kesīr. Nyke lurksas bona ao umbagon issa rūsīr."

Aemond drew in a sharp breath, and merely settled on the bed.

“As you wish, my darling wife.”

Translations:

"Qybor" = uncle - specifically, from the mother's side;

"Ziry iksos ao qilōni lurksas issa kesīr. Nyke jāhor daor gaomagon mirros bona mazverdagon ao zūgagon. Skoro syt kostagon ao ūndegon bona?" = 'Tis you who commands me here. I will not do anything that leaves you frightened. Why can’t you see that?

“Ao vestretan bona nyke udrāzma ao kesīr. Nyke lurksas bona ao umbagon issa rūsīr." = You said that I command you here. I order that you stay with me.

[guiltygearconfessions]

Submitting my thoughts as an Indian and Pakistani fan of GG, but I'm kinda disappointed that a lot of analysts who cover Zepp don't seem all too concerned with looking closely at aspects of South Asian culture and history or anything outside of India when it comes to Zepp. Yes it is Indian but you can't discuss India and just magically divorce it from shared cultural ties with Pakistan (and by extension Bangladesh, however I am not Bengali and thus can't speak much on it.) For example Gabriel's blue uniform is so clearly based on a veshti combined with the female air force uniform for Pakistan, or that Zepp's symbol is based on the Garuda Commando Forces logo- even the uniforms of said force match much closer to Zepp's uniforms than any stated "inspiration" I've seen. Hell even the slavery system within Zepp is a reflection that our countries still struggle with caste and class based slavery on a much larger scale (it's affected my own lower class family). This isn't even to mention Potemkin who seems much more tied to how Indo-Pak militarism, nationalism, and facism can affect areas like Kashmir. People are quick to call "German and Russian" influences but the only ones I remotely even observe as a brown person are literally just Pot and Gabriel's names. I dunno. It's just vexing to me. Like it's a country made by dissatisfied Indians post-crusades, so the idea that the old government was somehow less south asian is like. Weird to me. Like there's nothing to indicate that other than people conflating out architectural styles with Russian ones too. Like a lot of Zepp seems to resemble Rajasthani and Punjabi (both sides) architecture in particular but I'm just saddened knowing nobody will look that far into it simply because they might not have that same cultural attachment to it.

Side note I'm also not a fan of how Daisuke refuses to give names to Zeppian characters that match with their ethnic background. For every Leon Mining, Gabriel, and Potemkin, we could've gotten like... actual references to our rock and metal scene. Even "Zepp" as the country name dissatisfies me. Creators and fandoms have such a bad habit at making something or acknowledging something as "South Asian" and then refuse to elaborate on it beyond a few visuals. It feels gauche.

Something something the prevalence of ki not being touched upon for any of South Asia / Zepp by extension within GG is also a major annoyance when we share a lot of faith based aspects with regions like China and Japan.

This has been kinda long winded but holy shit fighting games really just annoy me sometimes with how they treat South Asia as a whole. I just feel it very strongly with GG in particular since Daisuke was very close to peak. So close. I will say he clearly put in a lot of effort that non-south asians probably wouldn't recognize at a first glance, but the smaller details surrounding Zepp and some of the assumptions made about Zepp fandom wise combine into a "nobody will get it like I do" situation.

It's genuinely very cool to see someone's perspective and analysis on it who has more experience and understanding than most western gamers. I appreciate you sharing!

[kimakento]

i’m hurting, but that's okay

synopsis: koga yudai was the boy you had loved for long, yet he’s always abusing that love you cultivate for him. you’re hurting, but as long it was for him you were fine. ⌙ 3.4k

pairing(s): rich heir!student!koga yudai x student!fem!reader

genre(s): angst

tags: pyramid game!au, heir!yudai, koga yudai as baek harin’s character, fuma as sung suji’s, yudai is vry glorified from reader’s pov, smoker!yudai, original male character (tomo)

warnings: (TRIGGER WARNINGS) physical and emotional abuse, love bombing, heavy manipulation, gaslighting, possessiveness, implications of unhealthy infatuation (from reader)

author’s note: i’ve been so obsessed with pyramid game lately and couldn’t not write something based on it. i wrote this all in one night surprisingly. this is inspired/based off of the pyramid game, with some references to characters (yudai as harin, fuma as suji) it does not include the actual pyramid game yet, but if this is well received and i make a pt2, i will definitely add it in. feel free to notify me if i have missed any warning(s) on this post.

disclaimer: this is in no way a real life depiction of how koga yudai acts in real life, if you cannot distinguish that i suggest you click off now.

“so?”

yudai’s voice was monotone, almost uninterested; a tone he never used with you. he held a cigarette in between his index and middle finger, and blew a puff of smoke in your face.

as docile and timid as you were, you weren’t flat-out stupid — you could tell he was just using you. but you just liked being near him. and for yudai, he thought you to be akin to an obedient pet, fulfilling his every bidding. doubts filled your mind as you nodded, a while ago he had asked you to steal the answers for the coming exams and like the loyal person you were, you did exactly that.

there was just something adorable about you to him. he liked that you were terrified by him, but also infatuated with him simultaneously.

it was fun, to say the least.

your voice wavered as you brought the bunch of unkept papers from your back and handed it to him, “here, i’ve brought it.”

your class all knew about you and him, they all ridiculed you; belittling you to be a mindless and blindly loyal suck-up to him. as much as you liked yudai, you didn’t think there would come a time when he did like you back.

at once, he snatched the papers from your trembling hands and brought them closer. as yudai squinted his eyes, a vexed expression adorned his face. brows furrowed, the creases in between them instensified; conveying his anger. in a fit, he threw them at your face.

“this isn’t even our class’s exams. how can you expect to be around me when a bitch like you doesn’t know how to read?”

your eyes fell to your worn-out shoes, taking in the scent of his — probably expensive — cologne and the acrid odour of smoke. dropping your knees, you collected the crumpled papers immediately.

watching you at his beck and call was… exhilarating.

koga yudai liked when you were so quiet. he liked it when you heeded to him and only him.

but most of all, he loved possessing this boundless power over you.

and you would do absolutely anything to stay in his grip. he didn’t even have to lift a single finger since you were always so desperate to be near him.

scrambling back to your feet, yudai tutted tauntingly at you. a haunting smirk took to his face.

“i must’ve read it wrong then, i’m really sorry,” it was like reasoning with an iron wall. “i’ll return to the staff room and try to get the actual answers, yudai.”

immediately, his face dropped. throwing his cigarette, he snuffed the flame with his boot while his expression hardened.

“don’t ever call me that again if you know what’s good for you.” an expression of confusion took to your face. “it’s ‘k’ to you.”

you knew you fucked up. k hated when anyone called him ‘yudai’. no one, not even you, knew why.

hanging your head down in shame, you nodded meekly in response.

yudai smiled. that’s how he liked you to be, weak and faithful. he despised change, he also hated when his plans were ruined.

that all changed a few weeks later, when a transfer student joined the school.

murata fuma.

he was nice; a little naive to the happenings of the class 2-5 but still kind nonetheless. soon after, fuma became your seatmate. and both of you hit it off straight away, finding common interests and such. that was why you decided to tell fuma to steer clear of yudai to which he agreed. it wasn’t surprising to see yudai wasn’t a fan of this new friendship that was blooming. it ruined his plans, he wanted needed to isolate you from everyone else.

before this ‘fuma’ arrived, everything was all in place and uniformly at that. you were isolated and at his heed; now, however, you were slowly slipping through his fingers. yudai observed from a distance in the school cafeteria as you chatted excitedly with fuma, a hand on his shoulder.

he’d make note to speak with you about this in due time.

while laughing at whatever fuma said, you received a message from yudai; asking commanding you meet him behind the school.

as you trampled on the crackling gravel lightly, you notice yudai leaning against a discarded, crumbling, wooden table. with another cigarette in hand, he drew you in with a hand motion. to be honest, you were frightened that you had something to upset the boy you publicly yearned for. taking broad steps closer, you now could fully inhale the smell of nicotine. eyes drawn to his hands, you raked your gaze over his skeletal fingers, the ones you wanted to hold so dearly.

fingers gripped your jaw tightly, forcing you to look at him, “look at me.” his voice was firm and strict, like he was training an animal. “i don’t keep you around me to run after other men.”

that’s what you were to him. a faithful and obedient dog.

the cigarette still in his other hand, he gave a sarcastic chuckle.

“i don’t quite understand.” one by one, those fingers retracted.

you had upset him.

“are you fucking stupid or what? get your shit together. i know you told him to stay away from me. did you honestly think i wouldn’t know?” with his towering figure looming over you, he took a step closer; the end of the cigarette an inch from your face. “i think you deserve a little punishment, don’t you?”

smoke wafted around the koga heir, concealing his knowing smirk. “give me your hand.”

he put his hand out towards you, nodding for you to put your smaller hand in his. when you didn’t, with an overpowering amount of strength, he yanked your wrist. his nails dug into your arms as you grimaced, knowing what’s to come. the heat of the cigarette hovered around as yudai lowered it to come in contact with the skin of your palm.

the odour of burning flesh invaded your senses and you let out a yelp, retracting your hand away. tears welled up in your eyes as you gazed down at your burn. those same tears fell down to your chin as you looked up in disbelief.

yet you never uttered a word in retaliation. you could never.

“i-i won’t do it again, please.” yudai had never been this upset with you, and you hated it. you’d never been on the receiving side of his unfiltered wrath, usually observing those that had been unlucky to have been.

“if i see you so much as look at that bitch of a transfer student,” the name ‘fuma’ left a bitter taste in his mouth, even refusing to utter it. “expect much worser than this. and you know i never take shit like this lightly.”

he added one last part, “remember this. you don’t want to upset me again.”

again, you nodded; not wanting to even imagine yudai frowning in your direction. a lighthearted smile replaced his previous vexed expression. his plan of isolating you was again reinstated. you were his puppet, as always.

“now, you know i don’t like doing this to you.” your eyes perked up hearing the surprising statement from him. heat rushed to your cheeks as you avoided his gaze.

the right words always at the right time, he knew how to get you to stay in his grasp.

you asked him a simple question, “you don’t?”

and with that, yudai nodded his head and moved a strand of hair out of your eyes. a look of ‘worry’ took over his features as he stared at the purple-brownish burn on your skin. somewhere inside him, a burst of exhilaration ensued at seeing you like this. it was addictive; you still being the follower you always were even after being treated like dirt.

yudai liked that about you, this was your normal.

rough hands wrapped around the wrist of your palm that was hurt and spoke softly, “let’s get you patched up, hm?”

you were hurting, but that was okay. it was all for yudai.

after that day, you swore to keep away from fuma. that included avoiding him when he tried to speak with you at any point of the school day to even blocking his number on your phone. you weren’t necessarily scared of what yudai could do to you (you were to an extent), but you were scared what he’d do to others, especially fuma.

everyone in class school knew koga yudai came from old money, rumour had it that his parents were afraid of him. something to do with him being a ‘psychopath’, you obviously did not believe that though. the boy you were so hopelessly in love with was definitely not a psychopath.

yudai was always so protective of you and cared for you.

all your classmates avoided affiliating with the dangerous heir, terrified of his influence socially as well as economically; even his control over the school system. he would be able to arrange an expulsion for any that happened to be unfortunate get on his bad side.

however for you, that was not the case; yudai had immediately taken a liking to you. you still remembered when you first joined the school.

at first, yudai was intrigued by you. this came as a shock to him, he’d never been this interested in a classmate before, let alone a transfer student? it was your quiet and timid nature, but the fact you still had a presence in the class. ‘oh he had to have you’, he first thought. a plaything like you would perfectly complete his play set, he even thought it to be a bonus that you were seemingly infatuated with him. to him, people were like chess pieces and life was a chess board; you were only a pawn in his game — an easily discardable one at that.

he still remembered when you stumbled over your words whenever you spoke to him; also that he thought it to be sickeningly adorable.

yudai loved playing with people, especially those who were naive.

when in front of you, he put up a front; a kind-hearted, friendly and helpful facade that drew you in quickly.

amongst your first days, you had decided on studying in the library. observing your classmates whispering secretly, you unconsciously started listening in.

“i hate kei, he’s so stuck up. he deserves what’s coming to him.” one boy — you think was called tomo — said.

“he’s a borderline psychopath, remember what he did to fuji?” his friend, a girl, included. the conversation came to a hush as they realised you were present and able to hear.

“fuck, you’d better not open that mouth.” tomo interrupted with a glare in your direction.

gathering your belongings in one arm, you nodded, and got the hell out of there. during your alone time walking down the halls, you were contemplating on if you should tell yudai. that was until you had collided into someone and almost tripped over had they not wrapped an arm tightly around your waist. your gaze raked along their body until you recognised it to be the boy you were just thinking about.

a warm feeling of admiration coursed through your being.

noticing the worried expression on your face, he pulled you to an empty staircase. the smell of nicotine lingered around in the atmosphere faintly only masked by heavy amounts of expensive cologne. you were confused where the stench came from as you knew yudai didn’t smoke.

the smell made you faint-headed as it didn’t take long of you watching his pretty face to put you under a trance. it was so strong it had stuck to your blazer.

“is something wrong? you look out of it. a little worried perhaps?” his tone was laced with a hint of concern. he put a hand on your shoulder, snapping you back to reality and compelling you to look at him. “you can tell me. i’m here for you.”

a gentle touch, a caring tone, a concerned look all seemed to keep you from communicating back coherently.

should i? you contemplated inside your head, shutting your eyes and tuning the world out. it’s none of my business. but they seemed like they wanted to hurt kei.

koga yudai’s smile was gentle and radiated a disposition of kindness. your heart leaped at his lingering words and you lowered your voice.

“uhm… it’s about some of our classmates,” you whisper as an eyebrow raised on his pretty face. “tomo? i think he’s trying to, uh, hurt you.”

a shiver ran through your body at the thought of anyone laying a finger on the boy in front of you.

you waited for yudai’s expression to shift into worry — for him to react like normal person. but instead, he laughed in your face. you furrowed your eyebrows at his peculiar antics.

“let me guess, he said i was a psycho or something?” a snicker left his mouth again.

at once, you nodded.

he replied with a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “don’t worry your pretty little head about that. i’ll deal with him. thanks for telling me.”

once again, your stomach leaped at his words; he always knew exactly what to say to keep you in his trance.

the phrase ‘i’ll deal with him’ kind of stuck with you.

only to be remembered the next day when you observed the same boy, tomo, entering the school gates with green-blueish bruises painting his face and a busted lip. it didn’t help that tomo kept returning his gaze to yudai and that the koga heir’s fists were covered with bandaids. yudai skipped happily towards you, an arm locked around your shoulder.

“you’re being cute again today.” he whispered to you.

the dots had all seemed to connect, but it was too late; you were already caught up in his spell.

since then, he started smoking around you more. you always caught him with a cigarette in hand and wafts of smoke dancing around him. at first when you saw him smoking carelessly, you had accidentally inhaled the smoke and started coughing violently.

yudai couldn’t contain the smile that threatened to make its way to his face. he loved seeing you in pain, it made him giddy. without delay, tears threatened to fall from your eyes and eventually did. the index finger of his free hand grazed your cheek softly, collecting that tear and wiping it away.

“you look better when you’re crying for me, hmm?” with a sigh of satisfaction, he took another puff and blew it at your face.

this time, you inhaled the smoke, biting back the reflex to cough. that had brought a smile to the man’s face.

meanwhile, murata fuma had tried his best to look out for you after noticing the predicament you were in with the heir that possessed psychopathic tendencies. there wasn’t much he could do after you avoided him and blocked his number. he had to work fast and work now.

so he took the chance; you walked alone in the empty hallway, earbuds in your ear and humming along to some music. you were looking around for yudai, wanting to show him a new artist you had discovered. that was until you were pulled inside a spare classroom by strong hands.

“what the hell— fuma?!” you yelped as you recognised the boy. “no, no, no. i can’t be here with you.” worry creased your face.

confusion laced fuma’s features, prompting you to continue your blabbering.

“if he sees me here with you, we’re both done for. please, i need to go.” as you turned to leave, you felt his hand wrap around your wrist. his gaze swept along the burns that littered along your skin and raised his eyebrows.

“go back? to him? he’s a fucking psycho. that…” a finger grazes one burn softly. “is not someone to return to.”

you were so tired of everyone dictating your life, you shrugged him off angrily. “you don’t know me or yudai. stay out of this, murata.”

and with that, you stormed off. muttering all sorts of curses, you decided to report to yudai himself.

dull sparkles seemed to settle in his eyes as you informed him of the happenings amidst your fellow classmates. your thoughts ran wild; remind you of what you refused to tell the heir in hopes of keeping your dignity. your classmates had asked you to help them bring down the boy and strip him of his power. obviously you had refused, but you couldn’t deny that you were tired of the games he played with you and others.

“they ambushed me randomly. i left before they could tell me anything though.”

you did well, right? you knew he’d be proud of you, yet an unsettling feeling churned in your stomach; plain fear quite literally manifesting inside your body.

a hum of understanding resonated from him, “why do i have a feeling you’re lying to me, pretty?”

the koga heir loved when you heeded his command, but loathed when you’d lie to him.

a liar was one thing he’d not tolerate. and you knew that.

in all his beauty, you observed as he walked towards you, his hazel eyes staring at the burn marks that decorated your palms — it was a reminder of your undying loyalty to him. a reminder of your love for him… that he would never reciprocate.

koga yudai didn’t know how to love, he never wanted to learn either. yet he knew enough about how to manipulate the love others had for him. now, he slinked back and admired his work.

“did those fools mention anything else?”

“no.” another lie.

genuine fear laced with obedience conveyed through your body language. now was not the time to be nervous. you watched as his brown locks ruffled when the wind blew.

yudai always made sure to wear his signature cologne around you. you were obsessed with the smell and it always seemed like you paid more attention to him when he wore it. the boy would also noticed that you would stare at his lips every time he parted them to speak and found that hilarious.

he liked the way your eyes would dart around nervously after before settling on your shoes. the way your cheeks heated up; it delighted him to know that you weren’t planning on leaving anytime soon.

his favourite puppet. sitting prettily for him, responsive and loyal.

sending you on mindless and endless errands was his favourite pastime.

something inside him told him you were a person who liked to feel needed, so he put you to use. as always, you were there to give him a good and proper laugh. who’d need entertainment when he had you, figuratively and comically chasing your own tail. always beaming, you’d return with whatever he told you to, over the moon that you could be of service to him and only him.

it wasn’t like you were any wiser, currently on your way to buy coffee for yudai (or as per his command for some girl from class 2-4 he had been speaking to for a while). as much as it pained you that he had another person he was close to, you did what you could.

cautiously balancing the coffee, you walked towards the table they were at and noticed yudai’s hand was on the girl’s thigh. forcing a smile on your face, you placed — more like slammed — the tray down onto the table and stormed off. the smile on the boy’s face only grew wider at your visible discontent.

this was something he had to do.

to yudai, you looked a bit too satisfied with your position around him, he had to remind you of your designated place in his school.

he followed you to your empty form room and grabbed your wrist, “what’s wrong?”

you took your hand back as you replied, “it’s that girl. why do you hang around her when you have me? am i not enough?” jealousy coursed through your veins.

“i always do exactly what you tell me to.” you take his hand in yours and prompt him to meet your awaiting gaze. “please, look at me and only me. and i’ll do anything you want me to.”

inside him, the wealthy heir couldn’t contain his excitement. this was exactly what he needed; he enjoyed this push and pull game.

“you’re amusing.” perplexity laced your eyes as he spoke. “i like you.”

and yudai always came out on top.

[critical-twenty]

I'm kinda new to the cr fandom so i only know c1 stuff... could you write something with the prompt "is it okay to hug you?" from the part 2 list! Maybe something with the party having a s/o who struggles with touch and being vulnerable who has been having a very stressful day? Cries easily when they are frustrated or upset? 😢 If thats too much maybe just something with Vax or Percy cause i love them the most. 💖

sorry this is so late! it’s been sitting in my notes for ages, i’ve just been too busy to post it!

S/O who struggles with touch has a stressful day!

Vax

Vax never really has an issue with the lack of touch in your relationship

Sure, he likes to hold your hand, but it’s not the end of the world if you don’t want to

He’s able to fluster you with just his words anyway

But when you come home one day with tears in your eyes and tension in your back, Vax is unsure of what to do

His first instinct is to reach out to you. It’s what he does for Vex and the others, so why wouldn’t he?

He stops himself when he remembers how much you dislike being touched without express permission

Even when you start crying, Vax doesn’t want to make things worse, so he just stares at you as he tries to ask what’s wrong

You look up at him through tearful eyes and ask ‘Can I hug you?’

Vax is immediately scooping you into his arms, letting his warmth invade your senses and comfort you

He tentatively begins to rub a hand up and down your back, continuing when you don’t tell him to stop

He’s relieved, in all honesty. He’s relieved he can help you and he’s honored that you let him hug you in such a moment of need

When you finally calm down enough to talk, he draws away to give you some space

His fingers stay connected with yours though, as you won’t let him go

He smiles at this, before pressing a kiss to your head

‘I’m sorry you had such a hard day, sweetheart. I’ll be here as long as you need me to be’

And he is 🖤

Grog

It took Grog a while to understand your reluctance in touch

It wasn’t that he thought it was weird, he just couldn’t read the signals as to how uncomfortable you were with his physical affection and you didn’t want to say anything

Finally, though, you told him about how you weren’t the biggest fan of touching

He nods, but it doesn’t fully register

Still he tries his best to remember, but he forget sometimes

He apologizes when he forgets and you can’t really get mad at him when he’s so genuine

When you come back home from a really rough day, Grog can instantly tell that something is up

He’s not the smartest, but when it comes to your happiness, he’s learned to become more attentive

He also knows that you don’t always want to be touched when you’re like this

(Pike had reminded him enough that it stuck with him)

So he watches you until he really can’t stand the sight of it anymore

‘Can I hug you?’

You look up at him with tears ready to fall and nod

Grog gives the best comforting hugs. He’s gentle but firm and he won’t let go until you ask him to

He’s not perfect, but he’s trying

Percy

Percival Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III was never a man who thrived in touch

He rarely initiated physical contact with you and whenever he did, he asked for your permission first

It was like he already knew about your dislike for touch without you even telling him

(He definitely did. He’s observant enough to see your subtle emotions and tells)

You were perfectly content with a dynamic mostly built on quality time and acts of service, rather than physical affection

This wasn’t always the case though

You had had a particularly hard day at work. There was so much to do and you felt like not enough time to do it all

So, when you walked into Percy’s Tinker Room, he instantly noticed your tense demeanor

He is the king of stress himself, he knows the signs

However he doesn’t know what to do. He knows that he likes to be alone when stressed, but by seeking him out you seem to want to be around him

He contemplates in his head for a moment as you tell him about your day, waiting for you to finish before he stands up and comes over to you

‘May I hug you, darling?’

You immediately look at him, before barreling into his arms

He’s quick to wrap them around you, pressing a light kiss to the crown of your head as he tries to ground you

He’ll hold you as long as you want. He’ll even offer cuddles

Needless to say, he’s done working for the day. You need him and that’s 10x more important than anything else

Scanlan

It took Scanlan awhile to adapt to your feelings on touch

He’s a naturally extroverted person and he’s usually the first to initiate physical contact with anyone, so it’s an adjustment for him

However, once he finds out that it’s even more fun to fluster you with his shitty pick-up lines and love songs, the physical touch thing becomes easier

He slips up every once in a while, but he tries to make it up to you (he is a secret romantic underneath that… sexual persona)

You go find him, sitting with his lute, after an awful day

You were tired, and stressed, and part of you just wanted to go to sleep and wake up when this project you were working on was over

Scanlan knew the minute you walked over to him that something was up

Not wanting to be obvious in his effort to comfort you, and not wanting to touch you when you were clearly already tense, he decided to do what he does best: talk

He began to make small talk, talking about his songs and his day and whatever was going on with his friends

He thought it was working, until you said his name and looked up at him with tired eyes

‘Can I have a hug?’

He was stunned for a moment, obviously not expecting it, but he got over it quickly

He lightly wrapped himself around you, holding you close and just letting it be

It was rare that Scanlan was so silent but, for once, the only sound was breathing

It was a small moment, but it was more than enough for you

Keyleth

Keyleth was awkward at first

Not because she had a hard time without physical affection, but more because she didn’t know what to do in general

Romance was still foreign to her

Still, she read your body language with perfection

You didn’t even need to tell her that you didn’t like physical touch… she just knew

You were thankful for that

It had been a stressful day and you were really just looking forward to hanging out with Keyleth

Sitting in the forest and listening to her talk to the plants always calmed you down

But even as you sat there, the stress didn’t go away

Keyleth noticed immediately, of course

She’s not great at words but she is more than adept at movement

‘…Is it okay if I hug you?’

You looked up with wide eyes and Keyleth immediately backtracks

‘We don’t have to, of course! You just seemed a bit tense and I thought maybe a hug might help be we don’t have to do that if you don’t-‘

She’s cut off by your arms gently wrapping around her waist

She freezes for a moment, before embracing you

It’s warm and comforting and Keyleth suddenly understands why people like doing this so much

She’ll hold you as long as you need. After all, she’s enjoying herself just as much as you are

Vex

Vex’ahlia is the queen of subtle touches

She loved resting a hand on the shoulders of her friends, or bumping into them playfully as they walked

It took a bit of self-control to not do those things with you

It wasn’t hard, per say. It just required a bit more focus and awareness of her movements

But, Vex would do anything for you, so she learned (quickly, as expected)

It was after a fight, while everyone was setting up camp, that Vex noticed the look on your face

It was the same look she saw when you were stuck on a particular puzzle, or when everything seemed to be piling on your shoulders

‘My dear, are you alright?’

You shrug half heartedly

‘Would you like to accompany Trinket and I on a walk? I think it will be quite relaxing and the moon is especially gorgeous tonight.’

Vex waits for your reply when finally you look up

‘Vex, will you hold me?’

Vex doesn’t even falter

Sure, she’s surprised, but the urge to comfort you overrides everything else

She hold you as close as she can without it being uncomfortable, rubbing circles on your back and whispering sweet encouragements into your ear

When you part, she tells you to take your time joining the rest of the party, before turning around and giving hushed threats to anyone who dares make a comment

You hear them, but it’s endearing. It shows that she care.

Pike

Pike is a very affectionate person

Not in the same flirty way as Vax or Scanlan, nor in the subtle way as Vex

Pike was just a very loving woman. Physical affection (including hugs) were just commonplace to her

Which is why she was a little stunned when you told her that you weren’t too fond of physical touch

It was hard for her, at first, because she had to find new ways to express all the love that she had for you, but your comfort came before everything

She always asked before initiating anything and you were always so thankful for that

One day, you came back to find Pike kneeling in the garden, mumbling under her breath

You assumed she was praying (for what, you weren’t sure) but you really needed her

Today had been hell and Pike had always known how to make you feel better

Sitting behind her, you gently rested your head on her shoulder

She tensed, knowing it was you, but confused by the display of touch

Still, she didn’t saying anything

‘Pike…’

She knew with that one call of her name what you needed

‘Do you want me to hug you?’

A small nod was all it took for Pike to spin around and gather you in her arms

Her hugs were like sunshine embodied

You felt all your stress and tension slip away as she held you close

Maybe she was a God herself, with the way she made you feel so safe in her embrace

[gumi-writes]

a knife, bladeless

source: touchstarved

wc: ~1.4k

summary: there were two main rules when it came to dealing with monsters.

contains: vere-centric with some implied verexoc / canon-typical violence / kudos to my wife for the headcanon that if you spend enough time with vere he will at some point vibe check you by stabbing you / is it rude? absolutely. is it unfair? 100%. but that’s just monsters being monsters babey / this turned far into far more of a character study than i intended it to lol but i just love my bitch ass girlfriend so much <3 /

author’s note: if it were up to me vere would always be malding (affectionate)

It should have annoyed him. Or rather, he should have been more annoyed—enough to be spurned into action, or at the very least full of biting words as opposed to biting them back. Vere had certainly cut people off for far less, a nonzero sadistic streak enabling him to find a particular enjoyment in reminding others when they forgot their place. You could even accuse him of it being one of his hobbies and have that accusation be warranted.

So why was Tiên still slumbering peacefully in his bed?

These days, Vere finds himself watching her sleep.

Not, of course, in a manner most crass—contrary to popular opinion, Vere wasn’t as gutter-minded as many seemed to assume. Something which—while certainly a common misconception, was also one he never felt the need to correct. Why amend when he could weaponize instead?

If people were desperate enough to slip a honed blade into his deft hands, a hold so accustomed to the craft of using that it could be done with effortless ease—then why should he bother denying them?

After all, a show was a show, and Vere wasn’t in the habit of missing out on free entertainment. Not if they were offering themselves, and that was almost always what it was—fresh meat so eager for the taking that it gifted gleaming knife and bared neck alike.

The problem was though—

A steady heartbeat. Too steady, if you were to ask him. His senses were such that people could not hide from him, sharp enough to unearth the most buried of weak spots and expose the rawest of nerves—no matter how cleverly concealed it was.

—easy prey did not satiate him for very long.

It should have annoyed him. Or rather, he should have been more annoyed—enough to be spurned into action, or at the very least full of biting words as opposed to biting them back. Vere had certainly cut people off for far less, a nonzero sadistic streak enabling him to find a particular enjoyment in reminding others when they forgot their place. You could even accuse him of it being one of his hobbies and have that accusation be warranted.

So why was Tiên still slumbering peacefully in his bed?

Perhaps he’d be less vexed by it if it was a post sex occasion. If all the nights she’d decided to crash were post sex occasions. Because while Vere did not have a tendency of allowing people to stick around for that long in the aftermath, it would certainly make this all feel less… irritatingly saccharine.

But it wasn’t.

Eyes narrow. Fingers itch. It would have been a mistake to have called this allowance one of sentimentality—the vast coldness in his gaze revealed as much, completely devoid of anything fond. It would have been a mistake, but that it could have been made in the first place irked him. It was all so irksome.

The gall to not ask—to beg—for permission. The audacity of never reacting to anything normally. The absolute maddening cheek to somehow not be unbearable in spite of all the things he had to bear.

(‘Just kick them out,’ Ais had said, ever the poor sympathiser to his plight. Nothing short of absolutely shit for things like this, but he was one of the rare few that lasted long enough to hear Vere complain.)

Vere knew exactly how they’d react if he told them in no small words to beat it. The first thing was that they would indeed beat it—without any question. The second was that Tiên would not only not get embarrassed, but she’d likely never bring it up. Ever. And not just because the humiliation of retracing a misstep was one she wanted to avoid, but because it would have genuinely not mattered to her.

Which meant that without her to be the affected one, even his perfectly reasonable response would have felt an extremity—a loss of control where anything but a victory was unforgivable. Regardless of it being a matter of relativity.

He could have potentially justified it if she made for a poor bedfellow—a man of his luxuries and comforts that was exceedingly possessive of his own space, were Tiên to have been a poor sleeper, that would have been more than enough to make up for the previous, except…

Tiên does not move in her sleep. Her body temperature, the next thing that could have so easily been bothersome, also wasn’t, and in fact was something she could change on the fly, meaning that it was always infuriatingly perfect. His vanity, in one of the pettiest reasons of all, would surely have enabled him to call it quits if she was unsightly at rest—but he wasn’t granted that either.

And he’d tried to psyche her out. The last time she’d done this, Vere had taken a page out of her obnoxious novel and slept on top of her without asking. In what was a clear bid to make Tiên give him a single satisfying valid reason to get rid of her; were he to have awoken in the middle of the night that would have been it—

Instead, he’d woken up the next morning in what was evidently uninterrupted slumber.

Even now, the thought of it was a trying one. His only explanation was that it had to have been a miraculous fluke, but even that feels wanting when he was bereft of what felt a surefire win. To meet with such impossible standards, including a zero tolerance for his own discomfort even at the cost of—or especially because of—another’s… and to still surpass them…

Well, that didn’t sit right with him at all.

In the dusk of rose, barely blinking—a frigid chill grows all the more biting. What might’ve seemed a petulance ultimately boiled down to an immovably monstrous nature: an affinity towards discord and an aversion towards harmony.

Rule one was to remember that a monster was always a monster. Rule two—

Moonlight and shadow as the sole witnesses. Nimble fingers twitch in a call to action—where idle hands were synonymous with the devil’s tools; the watcher no longer content with just watching. He couldn’t be blamed, in the end. It was on her for letting her guard down. It was on him to teach her a lesson.  

—was to never forget rule one.

The dagger may as well have been slipped into his hand. A sleek, pretty little thing, gleaming steel a perfect fit for the space between Tiên’s ribs. She already looked the part he would have found triumph in, flat on her back with her hands neatly clasped, locks of ashen silver to halo her form—a most picturesque corpse-in-waiting if he’d ever seen one. At least she was good for something.

No remorse. No hesitance. Night itself seemingly darkened in a wicked embrace of blood-soaked sin; its silence a clear sign of approval—why else would it have carried the heady weight of a rapt audience worth putting on a performance for?

As easy as breathing.

As quiet as fallen snow.

Of course, it struck true. Of course, it slid home.

Of course, the buried, bladed evidence was revealed in jewel-encrusted hilt, one that stuck skywards and out of Tiên’s chest.

They hadn’t even cried out.

And yet—

A steady heartbeat. Still too steady. Always too steady.

Where metal met meat, a red slit simmered in something almost ponderous. A languid, near bubbling, as if the inner was deciding what to do with the intruder and it had all the damn time in the world to do so.

It’s clear, then. In the moment that should not have existed. In the imposition that should have been imposed in its place. Vere never strikes without the complete and full recognition of what that strike can and will do, but when he’s not afforded even a single drop—no crimson tear to grace the canvas of flesh, no crescendoed swansong to precede the final curtain—somehow, he’s not surprised.

Just like when the murder weapon…

…tips…

…landing onto its side—he’s also not surprised, either.

If anyone claimed that he was secretly hoping for it not to take, they’d surely have been corrected—if not by him, then by the world itself. Because it’s not relief that fills him when he can still hear that blasted beating organ, but neither was it hatred that had driven his hand in the first place.

By the time he retrieves the dagger, a wintry cool has settled within him. A quiet resignation, perhaps. Or at least an acknowledgment—of inevitability, of futility.

Of her.

She’d not been so much stabbed as her heart had become a blade’s cradle, up until it was eaten. Steel piercing flesh? A tale as old as time. Flesh swallowing steel?   

Vulpine ears had flattened. A sigh rises and falls. They hadn’t even done the courtesy of stirring, as immovable as ever—with her breast unburdened with the need of the rise-and-fall, she really did look dead. And while it was a shame that Tiên couldn’t follow through, by the time Vere comes back to bed, he’d already let her have it.

At the very least, if she complained about the pain, then perhaps it would be worth the cost of a knife.

What an utter waste, otherwise.

[utilitycaster]

🔥 each member of vox machina

Vax: really the sadboy narrative for Liam has always been stupid but it's egregiously bad that it started with Vax, who is like, sad for maybe a fifth of the episodes and largely because Liam O'Brien's actual mother was dying, like, with all due respect what the actual fuck, fandom.

Vex: I am the founding and probably only member of the "Vex is my favorite character and also I am 100% cool with Colville's depiction of her." The generosity she shows even very early on in C1 is still a generosity borne of some degree of security - they have a keep by then - and I also just don't think you have to like a character to write them fairly. Granted it's been a minute since I read early VMO but nothing stood out to me as out of line with my understanding of Vex.

Pike: repeating myself once again but I like Pike a lot and wish we could have seen more, but because we didn't, people who say she's their favorite in C1 do tend to turn me off in that I feel they're looking for a relatively flat and widely praised character to project onto rather than a character who goes through more messy development.

Grog: I think he's often underestimated and I was guilty of doing so myself, to be honest, until I saw Travis play more and until I personally got better at D&D. Also I still maintain that playing INT 6 sensitively and well is infinitely harder than playing INT 16, all things considered, and this is yet another reason why people should play high INT more often.

Scanlan: Also underestimated; I do understand being turned off by the whole extremely horny playboy thing but as I've said before Bard's Lament is a major litmus test for me: if you think Scanlan is completely at fault here, you are wrong, and if you think he's not partially at fault, you are also wrong.

Tary: I genuinely love him and think he's a great character and one of Sam's best, but while his character arc is strong the Taryon Darrington Arc of the VM Campaign, through no fault of his own (and partly bc I personally think D&D Hell, especially pre-Descent Into Avernus publication, is kind of boring), is one of the weakest parts of the campaign because it's kind of a grab bag of loose ends. With that said I would happily watch more Darrington Brigade-one shots.

Percy: Percy is also generally a litmus test in that it's like. Is he a good person? Eventually I believe he becomes one, and even before that I think he's very sympathetic and deeply traumatized and like, 24, so I get it, but also, who the fuck cares. This ties into the Essek and the Ashton opinions and all kinds of other stuff but why are people so invested in fucking absolving their blorbo of all sins? I want someone who's lived enough of a life to have done some heinous shit because that's fun and interesting and it's pretend and also because then they can have a rewarding character arc by either working towards redemption or coming to terms with who they are or spiraling into tragedy.

Keyleth: I like Keyleth a lot but I am, as this post indicates, far more sympathetic to Vex, and so while I do think Keyleth is a fairly good person she is also extremely sheltered and naive and terrified of doing the wrong thing and I would have, like Vex, wanted to scream at her half the time were I just a random NPC wandering about the campaign. On the other hand C3-era Keyleth? fantastic no notes she has grown up in such an interesting way.

Tiberius: I think we, and by we I mean people capable of separating the art from the artist, can recognize that his concept actually fucking slapped and unfortunately he was played by someone who absolutely sucked in a myriad of ways. I would love to see the alternate universe in which the same general concept (prodigy sorcerer from Draconia who is full of themself) had to face not just the destruction of their civilization but the realization that they were taking advantage of the Ravenites and while they did not deserve to be killed by Vorugal, had done nothing to justify aid from those they had subjugated either. Like, the alternate world in which one of the current cast members or like, a close friend of the main cast (Ashly, Erika, Mary Elizabeth) played this is one I'd love to see.

[beyondmistland]

I read through all your posts about Alysanne Targaryen as Maegor's daughter and am now in a rabbit hole. Thank you. I've been thinking about Maegor's wives and which one of Henry VIII's wives they represent. Ceryse is Cathrine of Aragon and Alys is Anne Boleyn. The others are hard to pin for me since there isn't a lot. What do you think? Would Maegor's reign have been more interesting if his marriages had more similarities to those of Henry VIII?

I think this is where we run into a number of problems regarding the way GRRM wrote Fire & Blood specifically and the way he setup Westeros more generally.

For one, the fairly homogenized nature of southron culture as well as the oversimplification of religious institutions and history means you can't quite get the same dynamism as from real life European history, with its dizzying array of languages, cultures, cuisines, fashions, etc., to mention nothing of the then-ongoing Protestant Reformation. I suppose GRRM could have had Maegor convert to the Old Gods a la Julian (II) the Apostate or the Drowned God (you just know the Ironborn are the one race on the surface of Planetos that would say King Maegor the Good with a completely straight face) or even R'hllor, which would be the best choice in terms of worldbuilding opportunities in my opinion.

Moving on, we run into a handful of problems with Maegor specifically, one of them being the length of his reign. Look, while I can't deny Maegor ruling for 6 years and 66 days is incredibly cheeky, it also isn't anywhere close to Henry VIII's 36 years as king. With so little room timeline-wise, there isn't a lot of flexibility when it comes to telling new stories and fleshing out preexisting ones and all that is before you factor in Maegor himself.

I won't hold back. For all GRRM's talk of moral ambiguity, the human heart in conflict with itself, good men who were bad kings and bad men who were good kings, etc., his Targaryen monarchs are, for the most part, numbingly one-note. Aegon I is a literal enigma, Aenys is weak, Maegor cruel, Viserys I a party animal, Aegon II and Rhaenyra mirror-images of each other in their disqualifying vices, etc. As I've written before with my post reimagining Maegor as more of a Ivan (IV) the Terrible figure there was room to make him a genuinely controversial figure of historiography but instead GRRM doubled down on sensationalism and apathy-inducing slasher porn for lack of a better word. The fact Maegor is also the first and last of Visenya's line just adds more salt to the wound but that's part of GRRM's more general (and for me personally, vexing) habit of keeping family trees incredibly small.

(I do recall another alternative someone once brought up to the late Steven Attewell. Namely, turning Maegor into the Westerosi version of Macbeth by way of Der Untergang.)

This brings me to my semifinal point. GRRM didn't have to write Fire & Blood as Procopius' Secret History on steroids with a dash of Suetonius' Lives of Twelve Caesars and I, Claudius (the entire Saera episode is practically lifted wholesale from the scandal that envelops Augustus' daughter, Julia) but he did, which is doubly disappointing because not only does the final product suck quality-wise as a result but also because there were so many other avenues available to him.

He could have written Fire & Blood as a proper history (with less focus on the sex lives of teenage girls for one) or as a mirror for princes or as a dialogue between two characters or even as a character study. You can even see GRRM struggling with the constraints imposed by his use of Gyldayn in certain sections like the death of Maelor and the entire Hour of the Wolf episode, where you get reams of dialogue and characterization as well as more traditional narrative trappings like build-up, mood setting, etc.

Now, to answer your actual question (lol), I don't think any of Henry VIII's other wives map well onto Maegor's. Tyanna is, more or less, his female counterpart in terms of cruelty and zero redeeming features and entirely a fantasy construct. Elinor and Jeyne are both married to Maegor for only a year (with poor Jeyne dying in childbirth because Jeyne Westerlings, like the Brackens, Peakes, and Florents, cannot catch a break in Westeros) and before said marriage takes place neither appears on the page. As for Rhaena, well, credit where its due, she was a rare (and unexpected) highlight of Fire & Blood.

Thanks for the question, anon

[thefirstknife]

idk if you've talked about this, but Maya says something interesting in her "final" message to the Young Wolf. She says the YW should ponder "iterations" of the conversation on the riverbank (iirc) but I don't remember the YW mentioned in the Dark Timeline, and in the Epistemic lore tab, Praedyth says "the figure always changes." Is the YW a unique individual or do they exist in other timelines too? (I feel like I've missed a few details so I'm hoping you can answer. 😅)

It's a really cool message that will be interesting to revisit from time to time.

I leave this to you now, when it is too early to act. Before you have the faculty to understand its gravitas. You were offered the age you've fought to restore. Everything we've lost. You won't find it on this narcissist's station. I will set it in front of you, finely crafted and tuned. You mistakenly label it hubris, and resist. And you know... failure is a catalyst: it breeds invention. Would you comprehend the endless permutations of our conversation on the riverbank? I was only trying to change your mind. To help you see a better future. That exchange... did not always end in your favor. It does not have to still. You believe my ideology, virulent. All right. Know that I have bled across time, and under the skin of the cosmos. My knowledge became its fabric, filled its vessels, through its mind. Humanity is scattered, yet to see a Collective, focused. But in this infinite network the Vex have created... There is one answer. A Golden Timeline... With a heavy cost.

It took a few reads for me to wrap my mind around this. Maya definitely confirms that this happened in multiple timelines, in some way. We're not really sure if it's exactly the same though, obviously, since we can't really check.

The interesting bit is that the few timelines that Elsie has seen, all of them have failed because, essentially, the YW never became what they did because we didn't destroy the Black Heart. Those timelines have failed completely. But there seems to be other timelines in which we do exist, except we're always someone else (kinda like keeping everyone's Guardian canon, in a way) which we know from Epistemic as you've noted, and it's really cool:

Some visions he gets once, while some come back over and over again. One recurring image: a piece of the Traveler cracked off from its body, lying belly-up in a forest, with a small figure standing in front of it. The figure changes every time, but the sickly glow of the Traveler doesn't.

This is us regaining our Light at the Shard of the Traveler in the Red War, so it's post-Black Heart.

I think the YW is unique in a way that they only exist in the timeline where they destroy the Black Heart (D1 base story), but since there's an unknown number of timelines, this person is always someone different (so there's no one canon YW, it could be any of us). There's also timelines where we never become the YW because Elsie never helps us and we never destroy the Black Heart and things spiral from there.

It always remains a question if anyone using the Vex and their Network and technology is actually seeing real existing things, or perhaps simulations or possibilities. I do wonder if they left Maya around with the Echo for some future purpose or at least to keep their options open. Also intrigued about her mentioning "a Golden Timeline" and if that will mean anything in the future or if it's just her yapping from the Network. I did not expect her to stay around and especially not with the Echo in her posession so I'm super excited about the possibility of storylines with this in the future.

[burr-ell]

On the Matter of Trinket

So I had a lot of good things to say about Vox Machina: Kith & Kin, and I stand by them, but I do have one sticking point—the story of how Vex got Trinket. Since this extends beyond Kith & Kin and to canon as a whole, I thought it should be its own post.

So here's what happened, per stream canon in 1x65:

VAX: What's the dagger [that Saundor was referring to]? VEX: Oh, that. Yeah, I killed a couple people and I saved Trinket, that's all. VAX: When? You'll have to be more specific than that. VEX: Do you remember when I brought Trinket back to camp? VAX: Originally? VEX: Yeah! All those years ago? VAX: Yes! I thought it was a terrible idea. I was dead wrong. VEX: Well…turns out, I found him in a camp where I'd been taken. VAX: What? VEX: Yes, and there was some really dark people there, and they had harvested Trinket's mother. [...] I did what I had to do, and I killed them. VAX: The people that took you. VEX: Yes. I did. VAX: The people that took you from me? VEX: Yes. And I saved Trinket that night, and that's what Saundor saw. More than anything I just… I don't know how he saw it. VAX: Are you just creeped out because he knew or because of what happened? Why are you upset? VEX: I'm not. VAX: Well, listen. I wasn't there. I don't know what happened, but… you came back to me, so whatever happened can't be wrong.

This incident is recounted in full by Laura Bailey in a short story she wrote from Vex's first-person perspective explaining to Matt why she was so protective of Trinket, which can be found here. Even if you lack that context, though, it's clear from this conversation that Vax very explicitly did not know what happened. This is not easily missable, either; there isn't leeway to insert him into that backstory without directly contradicting what's happening in this scene.

In Kith & Kin, however, Vex tells the story of when she got Trinket to a little girl she meets, and says that Vax was actually there and helped fight off the poachers who kidnapped her—not really anything of note that she didn't do herself in the original, but he was there. This could be taken as simply her softening or embellishing the story to make it more exciting for a child, but the narration otherwise notes where Vex has left details out and does not imply that Vax's presence is an alteration. Additionally, later on in the denouement, Vex thinks about everything that's happened and reflects on "two young half-elven twins fighting monsters in a horrible poachers' camp", again suggesting that Vax was indeed there. This is further supported by The Legend of Vox Machina's change to the story, which also added Vax and had him be the one to break Vex out (originally she did it herself), and those two combined together suggests that this is going to be considered the canon narrative going forward.

Now, I'm not inclined to think any of this was done in bad faith, so don't misread me here, but I am disappointed by the change.

The conversation between Vex and Vax in episode 65 is very important for what it says about Vex and their relationship. (It furthermore serves as a parallel to a scene in episode 42, where Vax tells Vex about the circumstances of his joining the Clasp, the secrecy of which is maintained in Kith & Kin). Vex was so traumatized by this incident that it was brought up to emotionally torment and manipulate her years after it happened, and the fact that she never told Vax about it until he asked speaks to how important it was to her to avoid talking about it. Vex is a character who struggles with letting down her walls and taking off her masks, and not only could she not bring herself to explain it even to Vax at any point in the intervening years, but when she finally does, his words of support and reassurance don't even work—she still ruminates on Saundor's words at night following this conversation. That matters for the full context of where she is, and where the twins are, at this time in the narrative.

Now you can make the argument that this change only highlights a different facet of their respective stories: Vex is hurt by this incident in a way Vax is not. The problem with this is that we already have an element of their story that serves this narrative function—Syngorn, where Vex took the elves' racism and their father's abuse much more personally than Vax did. As an adult, she tries to wear a mask of untouchability and contempt for the place, but she did everything she could to measure up and meet their standards in the hopes of one day pleasing them and finding acceptance, while Vax pushed back against it at every turn and openly rebelled and caused trouble. Vax's disdain for Syngorn is straightforward; Vex's is much more complicated, and it feels redundant for the Trinket incident to repeat this pattern. It also robs the characters of the much more interesting story from the stream, where Vex keeps this to herself and doesn't seem to feel better even after Vax tries to comfort her.

As I've said, I do really enjoy Kith & Kin and TLOVM, and there are changes made in the animated adaptation that I really enjoy or even think are better than stream canon, but necessary changes to adapt a story to a different medium are different from an important character moment being undercut in canon supplementary material. Not only does Vax's insertion into this incident fail to substantively add anything to it, but it actively detracts from both his and Vex's stories as a whole. And as someone with a lot of love for Campaign 1, the willingness to do that kind of retcon unsettles me.

[tricerotopicpt2]

Alright guys the fable smp pokemon au brainrot is back and full swing because ocie was posting about it so here's a couple of thoughts based on that (warning this post is a bit long 😅)

Ok ok, so it terms of what pokemon people would have and how they got them, here's the thoughts

I think icarus' partner pokemon would be an archeops they got from their dad. Something about the overworld foundation doing some kind of research with ancient pokemon and fable giving his kid one seems right. They'd also probably have a pom-pom style oricorio and a decidueye (something about a ghost type archer pokemon that bird shaped feels right). They'd absolutely have almost exclusively flying types. Charles is just a really high level torchic they got from and trade and cant use.

Rae would probably have an Espeon. It's just feels right for him between it being a psychic type and evolving through high friendship. Going with the idea of him studying psychic and dark types, an inkay could be good for that, but idk if it fits his vibe. I also think that a pa'u style oricorio could be fun because he could totally study its dancing and how that connect with its "psychic energy". Also it could be matching with icarus which is fun. While it's not dark or psychic, a lucario or riolu could also be fun because they literally sense auras. Like. It's their whole thing. A lucario evolves with high friendship, but it also might be a bit to strong for rae to own. Maybe a riolu that evoles later on.

Athena just gets all the fire types. And maybe some fairy and dark types. Their partner pokemon is absolutely a torracat. They deserve all the fire types. Athena could also have a baile style oricorio so all of prince trio can have matching bird guys (maybe I just like oricorio alot. But it's a fire type and it fits and its fun). Just give this guy fire pokemon. And also maybe an alcremie because baking.

On that same note, give Jamie a dachsbun. And some bear shaped pokemon.

Arisanna gets fairy pokemon, specifically I think her partner pokemon is a togekiss because I think the allays being togepi is really fun. Im not entirely sure about what other pokemon she would have tho. Maybe an azumaril because blue. I dont know how vexing would translate over to pokemon au, but vexed ari would absolutely have a tinkaton.

I think magearna comes into play somehow here, maybe Caspian would have it and fix it up. Idk I think magearna is a fun pokemon and could be a fun stand in for Raza. Similar thing with type null.

I think the first pokemon that ven would end of catching is an alolan vulpix. You cant tell me I'm wrong. Its literally a little white fox guy. It's probably the only pokemon he'll have for a while and probably won't evolve. Maybe he gets a ghost type pokemon later.

I'm starting to realize how much alolan pokemon I've given these guys. But to be fair, alola has fun pokemon and I watched the anime for it a lot after they took xy and xyz off Netflix.

I think the world sisters would probably just be besties with some legendaries/mythical. They probably wouldn't catch them, but momboo just hangs out with shaymin sometimes and ocie is homies with phione and manaphy. Or if we wanna stick with the alolan theme, tapu bulu and tapu fini.

I absolutely have way more thoughts, but this is what I'll say for now since I dont want this to be too long 😅. I want to hear more people thoughts on fable smp pokemon au's tho

[notori]

On a more genuine note from my previous post though: I do not think Imodna will go the same way as Vaxleth for a few reasons.

Vax's story was very personal to Liam. It always frustrates me when people act like the Raven Queen 'took Vax away' (and thus she is a bad goddess) when in fact she answered his prayer and granted his wish. Vax's story is about "Take me instead!" - not some kind of "Don't let Vex die!", and certainly not someone who was raised from the dead without their consent and bound like a puppet. Unless such an ending is expressly what Marisha wants for her character, I don't see it being narratively satisfying. Even if Laudna dies in sacrifice to save the others, because of the breadth of Delilah's power, it would be more of a general "I'm dying to save everyone" and less personal (and impactful) than Vax's trading his life for Vex's.

I joked about how this is Delilah Briarwood vs Laura Bailey again, so don't sweat it, but it's true! The players play their characters differently. Liam loves tragedy and plays it well; Laura loves romance and plays it well. Percy also had a dark streak with a hunger for power, and Vex would not let him go. I see more parallels with themes like: "I feel cruel, but in control." and "Take the mask off." Meanwhile, Imogen and Keyleth are different characters and their love interests have different relationships with death. In the end, the reason Keyleth could not do anything against the Raven Queen isn't because she's a god and Keyleth is not, but because Vax - as a paladin - chose to honour his faith and uphold his end of the deal. Imogen is not in that position because Laudna is not in that position. Laudna may see herself as just a puppet, or a risk, or a dead end - but we the audience, and Imogen, know that she is not (maybe a bit of a calculated risk). If anything, I see us on the precipice of an arc of Imogen inspiring Laudna to fight for her independence again and figuring out a way to do that (this is a world of magic after all).

And that theme of fighting for independence is something that has been there since the beginning. We have seen it both in analysis and confirmed on 4SD that Laudna's relationship with Delilah is in many ways similar to struggling with addiction. And now, into year three of C3, we are really seeing that take form when things get rough. When things get out of control, when you get desperate, that's when you grasp at anything to make it easier. It would be a real kick in the teeth to have her not overcome that struggle. Of course, there's the possibility that she does overcome that struggle by getting rid of Delilah and dying as a result. But out of game it has been referred to more in line with addiction that is constantly managed rather than addiction that is ended cold turkey - which for some people is the only way. I'll admit this one is more a personal preference but I do see it overall leaving a bad taste if Laudna were to die from Delilah in some way (again). Presuming they resolve issues with the solstice and resurrection spells, True Resurrection does exist and I'm certain the Hells would work off a 25k GP debt to bring Laudna back for good (which I see as more of a final episode/epilogue/post-game situation).

Regardless, it's a beautiful story and I'm sure that whatever happens will be what the players want. However, in this case I genuinely don't see them repeating something they have done before. Although we saw many parallels last night, there is still much which sets Imodna and Vaxleth apart narratively.