#there's so much more to say on the subject though

[randombush3]

que te quiero

alexia putellas x reader

prologue

summary: you wake up but you're not sure where

words: 3217

content warnings: just you fucking wait

notes: i slaved away to get this out asap lol

They list your injuries in an awkwardly ascending order: best to worst. You suppose the doctor’s callousness is more professional than malicious – and maybe it’s a good thing he isn’t panicking at the sight of such long, uninteresting words – but he makes it sound clinical (his job) and it’s hard to remember not everyone feels the excruciating pain you are slowly growing accustomed to. 

You wince at your thoughts’ poor choice of words. 

Apparently, you don’t remember much. In the week that you’ve been awake, you’ve been subject to every test, question, and assessment possible, all answers coming out with the same result. 

You know your name and when you were born. You know that you have a degree in Literature, but that you’re now a lawyer with an extensive library instead. You can speak all the languages you’ve ever learnt (that’s a different part of your brain, says the doctor when you ask how). They ask about your parents, your brothers, and names easily roll off your tongue, the childhood fear of hospitals still present (god, there is something that you wish had been forgotten). 

Still, the nurses approach you with sympathetic smiles, replicating the expression when they converse quietly with the worried-looking woman who visits you every day. She’s called Alexia, she tells you, staring at the gap between you as though she is a stranger to being so far apart. 

Although it was blurry when you first woke up, once Alexia reveals her name, you’re certain you recognise her.

“I’ve seen her somewhere,” you tell your favourite nurse, chipper that you’ve worked it out. In an attempt to jog your memory, you’ve kept the small TV in the corner of your section of the ward on all afternoon, sort of missing the noise your committed visitor brings with her. “And she’s not here today, Isa, because she’s there.” You point at a figure running around on a football pitch. “Alexia Putellas. She’s famous!” It explains the secrecy and the inexplicable absences. You suppose a slightly different structure of her job allows her to visit at unconventional times, too. 

“Mm,” Isa hums, not quite committed to this conversation. “Let’s save the discoveries for your chat with the doctor, yeah? He should be here any minute now.” 

On cue, the pot-bellied man appears, clipboard in hand, bottom lip between his teeth. His perception leads his gaze to the TV, which, in turn, causes him to watch your reaction to the match. Growing insecure of his scrutiny, you press a button and watch the screen go black. 

“Good afternoon,” comes his greeting, clipped and determined to not waste time. You try to find comfort in that: maybe you aren't in the worst shape in this hospital. “How are your ribs feeling?” 

“Battered.” 

He writes that down. “You’re on the highest dosage of pain medication. We’ll need to start weaning you off soon, too. Especially due to a family history of addiction.” Your eyebrows furrow, and his pen scratches at the paper once again. “Okay, Y/n. Can I have a seat? Are you comfortable?” 

You take a moment to acknowledge the ache in your abdomen and head. He assumes your silence is a ‘yes’ and Isa is dismissed. “You shouldn’t be looking at any screens,” he says calmly, with the faintest hint of disappointment. “It will not aid your recovery.” 

“How am I supposed to remember anything if I can’t use… sources to help me?” you protest. 

“That is exactly what I have come here to discuss. We’ll start bit by bit. The more open you are to this, the quicker you will be released from hospital.” He smirks. “And I know that you are desperate to leave.” 

…

The stands of the stadium echo with jubilation as the final whistle blows. Alexia barely hears it due to the noise, still reeling from her penalty, proud to have scored in front of such a special guest. She’d made an ‘A’ with her fingers as she had celebrated. 

Despite her teammates’ dallying on the pitch, never in a rush after a win like this, Alexia is jumping the barrier and barreling through the crowd to get to the seats she’s been keeping an eye on for the whole match. Her mother is barely offered a ‘hello’ before Alexia is wrapped in a tight embrace. She won’t admit that the force of the impact winds her a little. 

“You played so well!” squeals Amaia, voice muffled in the sweat-soaked jersey. She seems almost giddy, which is a hefty improvement considering your current situation. 

Alexia laughs, bending down to Amaia’s level, her hands resting on the girl’s shoulders. Tears prick at her eyes but she hopes it isn’t that obvious. “You saw my penalty, right?” 

She’s met with enthusiastic nodding, Amaia’s eyes widening with excitement. “Vaig veure la A! It was for me, right?” 

“For you,” Alexia confirms, pressing a quick kiss to the top of Amaia’s head. Despite her efforts, the softness of the girl’s hair – the way she clings once more to Alexia’s body – is disarming. And Amaia speaking Catalan always gets her emotional. 

She wipes her tears when Amaia pulls away. 

This is difficult. Alexia is trying her hardest, but nothing is the same without you. She finds herself looking at the seat beside Amaia, expecting to see it filled by you, but it’s not; it’s empty. You are still at the hospital. You don’t even remember who Alexia is. 

You don’t remember the past eleven years, they think. Which means no Amaia, no Alexia, no Barcelona. 

It has broken Alexia’s heart. 

Her mother places a hand on her shoulder. “Go and get changed,” she instructs gently, in the same way she has been since the accident. Eli has become an engine, a guide. “Alba said she’d meet us at the restaurant.” 

Alexia swallows, embracing her mother. In her ear, she whispers, “I think it’s time for Amaia to see her.” Her mother’s touch remains firm, grounding her. She breathes out, and it is only now that her lungs ache that she feels like she can no longer hold it together. But Alexia is determined, and she will not crumble. 

Not in front of your daughter. 

“It’s your decision, Ale,” Eli murmurs back, her tone steady and calm. She’s seen how tirelessly Alexia has navigated these past weeks, juggling her team, her grief, her hope – all while trying to keep Amaia’s life as normal as possible. “You have done everything you can. If you think she’s ready, she’ll be ready.”

Alexia pulls back and nods, a quiet determination settling over her face. The thought of bringing Amaia to the hospital without the stability of a coma to predict her reaction has been weighing on her ever since you woke up. But, even though this step is more of a stumble, it seems to be in the right direction. 

"Now, go and get out of this kit. Amaia and I can only pretend you don’t smell for so long," Eli jokes, hand guiding her toward the locker rooms. Amaia is practically bouncing at Alexia’s side as they make their way down the tunnel, still buzzing with excitement over the game and ten goals scored. 

Not everyone is so plagued by misfortune in their personal lives – a reminder which is stark as Alexia passes the conga line of her teammates, all thrilled with their (superfluous) scoreline and exploiting the night off that Pere has allowed right from the get-go. A few of the girls wave at their captain as she walks past, but most feel uncomfortable shoving their elation in her face, aware of the shitstorm she is going through. 

The girls do keep plaguing her about what you had thought of their ‘Get Well Soon’ card, though. Not that Alexia has found an appropriate time to give it to you yet.

“Will she be awake?” Amaia suddenly asks, her voice breaking Alexia’s thoughts. Her expression is open, hopeful. Her eyes have the same shine as yours do in this light. 

Alexia glances down, her lips forming a soft, bittersweet smile. "We’ll see, Amaia," she says, brushing a stray lock of hair from the girl’s face. "We’ll visit, and we’ll see."

Inside the locker room, Alexia changes quickly, her mind already racing ahead to the visit. She imagines you there, perhaps looking out the window or glancing at her with that blank confusion that still cuts her deeper than she’d expected. The nurses have told her that you’re growing more restless with each day, becoming harder to occupy. You sound like a pain in their arses, which is comforting, because at least you are still you. And your questions! Alexia is unsurprised that the doctors rock-paper-scissor for ward duty. 

When she emerges, mood lifted by the thought of you continuing to be a nightmare, Eli and Amaia are waiting by the door, Amaia now clutching a small bouquet of flowers that must have been retrieved from Eli’s car while Alexia was changing. She’s holding them proudly, as if they might be a magic cure, as if a burst of colour is exactly what’s needed to bring you back.

“Ready to go?” Amaia asks, instinctively high-fiving Mapi as she walks out with Alexia. 

“Exciting plans, Capi?” her friend questions. Alexia’s look says it all. Mapi lowers her voice, allowing only Alexia to hear her; “you are strong. You will be strong.” 

“Let’s go,” prompts Amaia. Her impatience was very much inherited. 

After shooting an unconvincing look of confidence to her friend, Alexia nods, holding out her hand for Amaia to take. “Okay, okay. Say goodbye to Eli.” 

Kisses are exchanged. Alexia promises to come for dinner, even if she will be late. 

Amaia plays Taylor Swift in the car. The whiny music gives Alexia a bit of a headache, but at least it’s loud enough to dull the absolute din of her screaming thoughts. And when they arrive, it’s all too familiar for Alexia’s liking. 

She has her route to you memorised. It’s magnetic and intrinsic, and a desperate part of her is clawing at the hope that, somehow, you will have regained everything that has been lost in the day she hasn’t seen you. Before entering the ward, she tries to prepare Amaia, but the girl is as unstoppable as you can be and there is no intervening before she is at your bedside, greeting you like you remember who she is. 

…

A lot of what the doctor tells you are things you struggle to believe. Like, last year, you were made junior partner of the law firm you work at. They’re based in London. You used to live there – you moved after you’d finished your degree, bored of Bilbao and of home and of knowing every person in your world. Another confusing one: your brothers actually visit you, as though you are forgiven. 

Which sparks an aged memory. Two lines in the bathroom at the university. 

“Am I pregnant?” you ask, feeling the colour drain from your face at the idea that you might have lost the baby in the accident. 

The doctor waits patiently for you to remind yourself that eleven years have passed. 

“I was pregnant.” Nothing comes back to you, though this would be an appropriate moment for it to. The rest of the story hangs loosely at the back of your throat, unable to be spoken. You look at the doctor for help. “Did I keep it? I’m not – I wasn’t planning to.” 

“She’s called Amaia.” 

“Amaia…” you repeat. A painful realisation settles in you. How did you feel about becoming a mother? Why did you? When did they forgive you, and was it because of her? 

“Your mother’s name, I believe,” continues the doctor, “although you can remember that.” 

“I barely knew my mother.” She had died when you were very young. She didn’t feel like yours to grieve. To you, it was just time off school, hospital visits, and watching the rest of your world fall apart. You find yourself swallowed up in guilt – anger. How did you let this happen? How could you forget what must have mattered the most? “I want to see her,” you resolve, attempting to sit upright and pretend the movement doesn’t send a searing pain through your chest. “My… I want to know what she looks like.” 

Your patience need not extend for too long, as Alexia and Amaia arrive only two hours after the doctor departs. 

The sterility of the ward is no match for the warmth they exude, and you can almost sense them coming. It’s both comforting and unsettling. You refrain from telling Alexia that you know who she is. 

You have no time to, really, because there is a girl, average height with a bouquet in-hand, barreling towards you the moment you lay your eyes on your visitors. She’s loud enough to make you wince, which, in turn, earns her a sharp warning from Alexia, even further away than usual. She is watching you closely, awaiting your reaction. Her arms are folded across her chest, hair scraped into a damp ponytail, and she is withholding the emotion she wants to express because Alexia, you’ve learnt, isn’t really that kind of person. You often find yourself wondering how she first opened up to you. How long did it take? 

You want to ask, but Amaia – Amaia – begins to speak. Her voice is unfamiliar, her accent failing to reflect any time in Bilbao she might have spent with you. She speaks at first in Spanish. You hardly hear what she is saying, too focused on examining her features. 

She does look like you. Or, rather, pictures of you from years ago. Your father’s eyes, your nose. A smile that you can’t help but reciprocate. You try to remember what her father looked like, but nothing comes to mind and Amaia seems to have been unresponsive to his genes.

“Amaia,” you interrupt, not to cut her off but to test her name on your tongue. It’s foreign to you, but it suits her. She beams. 

“Do you remember me?” 

And what the actual fuck do you say to that? 

Your hesitation is telling. Alexia stiffens from where she had relaxed on the fringes on the section. 

“It’s okay if you don’t.” You look up at her, unaware that you had bowed your head in the first place. She has kind eyes, you think. And she must be clever, because it is not what she says, but that she says it in Euskera. 

“I missed you,” you say. It slips out, but you mean it. Well, you assume you missed her, and therefore it is a logical thing to come out with. And, also, you are aching inside from seeing the life that you have created standing right in front of you. A life you were not going to pursue. 

Amaia does not cry, but she delicately unfurls your clenched palms and shapes her hands to link with yours. You want her touch to bring it all back. It feels like jumping off a skyscraper when you are met with nothing, still. Instead of the flood of recollection you long for, there is a faint, ungraspable feeling of something you cannot name. 

After a silent pause, a movement in your peripheral vision catches your attention. Alexia steps forwards, her arms still crossed, her expression unsure and more than a little guarded. There is a sudden swell of gratitude in your chest, more for her presence than anything specific, and, without thinking, you smile at her. 

“Congratulations,” you say, voice just above a whisper as though Amaia will be unable to hear. “I saw you on the TV. You scored, didn’t you?” 

Alexia’s eyes widen a fraction as she glances at Amaia, who is proudly informing you, “ez behin, baizik eta bitan”. Alexia manages a small, almost bashful smile, her hand coming up to rub the back of her neck. For a woman so publicly celebrated, she seems to struggle to handle your praise. 

“Thanks,” she says awkwardly, eyes not quite meeting yours. “It… wasn’t a huge match but,” she grimaces at the sound of her voice, “I wanted to play my best for, well, for you guys. Amaia was there, and you… Well, I suppose you were watching it on TV.” She doesn’t feel inclined to show you the band of pre-wrap around her wrist with your name written on it, hiding it under the sleeve of her hoodie, or tell you that you were there with her, like you always are. 

Something tugs at your heart. It’s obvious that she is desperately holding back emotions, likely for Amaia’s sake. She looks away for a moment, regaining her composure, then turns back to you with a steadier expression. Amaia glances between you both, unnervingly perceptive for a girl so young. She squeezes your hands a little tighter. 

In the silence that follows, Alexia finally speaks up again. “I… didn’t want to crowd you, but,” her tone drops into something more serious, “I’ll be back again tomorrow, and, actually… Your doctor and I have been discussing the idea of you coming home soon.” 

The word hits you like a bullet from too close a range; it’s almost too fast to register before the damage is done. 

You don’t even know where you live. In your mind, you have never been to Barcelona, let alone have a home here. And yet there is an inexplicable warmth in Alexia’s voice that makes the idea feel… less absurd. 

She clears her throat. “In three days, if you’re ready,” she softly adds, eyes glimmering with hope in a fearful way. 

Later, Alexia stands just outside the ward, talking quietly with your doctor as Amaia sits nearby, focused on the little bouquet of flowers she brought for you, picking at a petal here and there. Alexia watches your daughter for a moment, the girl’s calm focus oddly grounding. 

“She’ll need a lot of rest and minimal stress,” the doctor says, drawing Alexia’s attention back to him. “But it’s promising. Her physical recovery is progressing, and though her memory may take longer, familiar environments could help.”

Alexia nods, though the doctor’s words bring only partial relief. “I can make things as calm as possible for her at home,” she says, trying to avoid sounding like a child begging for a present she knows she will not receive. “We have spare rooms, and lots of pictures to look over. And she hates hospitals. You’re lucky to have her disorientated, else she’d be kicking up a big fuss.”

The doctor lets out a tired laugh, but makes no attempt to agree that you haven’t made his life slightly more difficult than it needed to be already. “It will be an adjustment for everyone, but it is important that you are looking after yourself too.” 

Alexia’s gaze drifts back to the door of your room, and she swallows hard, steeling herself. The doctor’s words linger but they do nothing to curb her determination. She would do anything for you, and if you fell for her once, you can fall for her again. 

After another quiet moment, the doctor pats her arm lightly. “Three days, then. We’ll make sure she’s as prepared as she can be.”

[mistresscitrusslice]

Thank you so much for going through the effort to even get screenshots! It’s seriously appreciated.

You make a good point, not least of which because this circle looks like a blast zone that came from within. It even pushed other bodies away. I’ve never seen Kindred gameplay, idk what their protective powers look like, but generally spells that are cast on you by someone else use the caster as the center of the spell, not the target. (Basically, the blast circle wouldn’t have been centered on Ambessa, but on the Wolf.)

The protected area around Mel and Jayce when they wake up doesn’t look like a blast zone the way it did with Ambessa (other than, you know, the Actual Bomb), so I’m not sure what to make of that.

I did not know that Ambessa had a bio already, let alone that included stuff from her music video! I thought she just had her blurb. It’s great that they clarified who she was pregnant with eventually. Uh, where’s Kino while she’s out at war then??? I imagine that Kino’s father was probably also a soldier and in the army too. Hopefully Kino was with relatives or family friends.

Also, Rokrund! It’s nice to get a name for the specific region Ambessa is from other than just the wider nation of Noxus. Is this a new name we’re hearing or has it appeared in any other League lore/media before?

“Visions that she would speak of to few others.” I wonder who those few are. Given how she treats her children, I cannot trust that even her kids are among these few. Their dad, maybe? I hesitate to say “Ambessa’s husband” because she definitely does not act like she has a husband, or maybe he’s deceased.

I plead the fifth on the Solari stuff because I know jack shit about the Solari, and if it turns out that Mel does have Solari magic, I do want to be surprised by their lore.

It still puzzles me why, if she does have magic, she wouldn’t use it to defend herself. You mentioned it being linked to situations with certain death. I’m iffy on this because it feels convoluted and kind of like a cop-out if that really is the reason can’t use it at will. If it is the case, though, then maybe Viktor wasn’t hurt because his magic clashed with hers, but because his death wasn’t guaranteed. I rewatched the opening scene, and he was still moving a little when Jayce performed Hexcore magic on him. If his death wasn’t certain, then the magic had no need to save him.

More likely, Mel’s magic has a cooldown and a long period where she needs to build enough magic back up to be able to use, but most likely, Mel doesn’t even know she has magic. There’s no sense in concealing her magic now, especially not after it saved herself and Jayce. Sure, it’d be a bad idea to come out about it to the world even after Piltover accepted Hextech since it would’ve been a secret for so long. However, I do believe she would’ve told Jayce. If not before, then definitely after it saved the two of them and Viktor still almost died.

Jayce needs as much information as he can get to figure out what’s going on with Viktor. Mel cares a lot about Jayce and seems to also care for Viktor even if she disagreed with him last season. She also has the same innate curiosity that Jayce and Viktor do. She’d want him to be able to solve this puzzle with all the information at his disposal and has been able to open up to him in the past with the trust that he would not share her secrets. She’d tell him so that they could figure out why her magic didn’t work as it was supposed to.

Unless there’s a reason we haven’t been told for why she needs to keep this hidden? If you squint your ears real hard, her line of “There’s no sense to these things, Jayce” in response to “How does the explosion do that to him and I just walk out without a scratch” sounds a bit like she’s trying to get him to drop the subject. After all, there is sense to these things for a scientist. There’s physics and calculations that go into why every single piece of debris falls in the way that it does. Which direction it flies in, how much heat is dispersed, the shock absorption in everything and every person in the blast radius, how far each person gets pushed across the room. To Jayce, “there’s no sense” might not be a comforting thing to hear. So was Mel just trying and failing to comfort him or was she attempting to change the subject? Or am I just reading too much into it?

Lmao imagine tho if Jayce found out she has magic, whether she already knew or not. He’d want to study her! And honestly she’d probably be down for it to find out even more ways to use her powers, maybe a way to replicate it with Hextech so more people can have a way to stay safe! That would actually be a good way to use Hextech to help people. And maybe Mel just has a scientist kink, who knows

Mel's protection should have saved Viktor too, and she's trying to figure out why it didn't

S2 ep1 shows a circle of protected stone where Mel and Jayce were during the explosion. My theory is that Mel's magic armor activated and saved them both. It seems like it casts a sphere of protection around wherever Mel is.

The center of this circle is not Mel's seat - it's Jayce's. She ran to Jayce to save him.

No other Councilors were in range of Mel's protection, so they all got hurt or killed.

But Viktor was, Jayce's words, "right next to" him. He was easily within Mel's circle of protection.

1) Viktor tried to run and mistakenly left the circle of protection. But are we meant to believe that Viktor, close to dying already and using a crutch, would have outrun Mel?

2) Viktor's augmented body clashes with Mel's

Why does Mel try to touch Viktor in episode 1? It seems like a throwaway moment, but not even Jayce touches him in this scene. So why Mel?

She's curious. And possibly, feeling responsible. She's wondering why her protection didn't work.

Is this Hexcore brand of the Arcane trying to reach out to Mel? Or trying to defend itself from her?

Mel was trying to protect both Jayce and Viktor, which is reflected in how she holds Jayce as well as Viktor's cane when she promises to protect Hextech:

But if, for example, Mel's magic is Solari in origin, and Viktor's is from the Void - or the Arcane equivalent of similar opposing forces - then it's possible that their magic rejects or hurts one another. So Mel's circle of protection either rejected Viktor, or was what hurt Viktor, and not the explosion.

[subbytcklslut]

First Tickle Session (11/08/2024)

My first tickle session with @dca101

I'm going to do my best to recount everything, but frankly there was so much going on and I know I can't accurately run through every single second.

So, I'd been anticipating this session all week, it was my first REAL tickle session. It had me completely nervous in the best and excited way possible. I'd be lying if I said I didn't have butterflies as the hours ticked down closer and closer.

So of course when he got here we had a moment of just chilling, talking a bit. I got a hug which definitely helped put me at ease. We started slow, him just getting a quick tickle in here and there. I wore shorts, a bralette and a thin spaghetti strap tank. I wanted to be tame but also leave as much ticklish real estate exposed as possible, so yeah at one point the tank came off. I actually had shoes and socks on starting out, so he focused on my thighs and my hips. Working his way up and teasing my sides and finding out how ticklish my underarms are. It was all gentle tickling, some rough tickles mixed in and I can't believe how giggly I was already becoming.

Fun fact, he teased my neck a fair bit( which is a turn on for me) but ummmm he glided his hands along the backs of my shoulders which we both then discovered is weirdly ticklish. Needless to say he had to test every inch between my neck and shoulder blades. Meanwhile I'm scrunched up and trying to squirm away from it. He oh so RUDELY honed in on my knees with some nibbles. Lucky I didn't jerk from how mean and ticklish it was.

He eased me in to some of the tickle toys. The vibrating feather particularly tickly to my stomach and ummm breasts 🫣. I have found my ultimate weakness though in that pure torture device that is the double pronged flosser thing. Doesn't matter where it touched, I was a giggling and squirming mess. He gave me a break from that evil little tool, but it was time to experience my first taste of foot worship.... I can't believe how much I liked it. Feeling my toes in his mouth was actually kinda hot and it tickled the tiniest bit. Then the oil came out! He tested the ticklishness of my feet without oil on one and oil on the other, with the addition of the hairbrush(the only tickle tool I experienced until this point). He discovered an absolute death spot that was my toes and proceeded to call ME a liar for having thought the spot under my toes was the worst. Totally not my fault, so I was subjected to some torture on my poor toes with multiple tools.

Turns out, I'm certain areas I'm also very lickilsh. Um the underarms 😨 and my poor soles.

Of course my sassy and bratty self couldn't help it at times to bite back and it resulted in me getting pinned down(holy fuck was that hot and got more than it's fair share of moans) while he tickled my upper body. His teasing tickle talk only driving me more crazy and to more laughter. He got me to admit what a ticklish toy I am and um excuse me but how dare 😤💀

It wasn't until 3 hours in that the restraints came out. We kept it easy, rope and some good cushioned restraints. My heart was absolutely pounding with anticipation as I lay there while he secured me. Testing my mobility by tickling my foot, my thighs, my underarms. The real ticklish panic set in when I realized I couldn't stop or squirm or hide any tickle spots.

For all my bratiness he had to dole out some punishment to my oiled and secured feet,using each tool he had and really going to town with them. Again, that double pronged flosser is my weakness, followed very closely by grooming gloves 😵‍💫🫣 I was warned these toys were going to be intense but nothing can prepare you for them. Even writing this my toes are scrunching as I remember what happened. He had me so much in lee headspace that I couldn't help but beg and laugh. All the while just adding enough teasing torture to bring a whimper from me.

I'll admit, we had some NSFW tickles... Again that evil fucking flosser right along my pussy. The moans and laughter from me were embarrassing to say the least 🫣 but I fucking enjoyed every minute of that agony. We ended our session with one last vigorous torture to my feet, that evil fiend).

But honestly, the sweetest fucking thing was how caring and gentle he was. He made sure to give me breaks to breathe, letting me adjust to each new ticket sensation. Making sure I was okay with what happened and not pushing boundaries that I had set. He really helped ease me into my first session and I couldn't have asked for a better first time. He's an absolute teddy bear of a guy and snuggling him as both of our aftercare had me grinning ear to ear.

More sessions will definitely be happening and I'm damn lucky y'all 🫠

[persephonesdreams21]

Sweet Tooth

A/N: Well let me say first and foremost. My bad guys. Lol I didn't mean to keep this rotting in my drafts for almost a year, but life got crazy. I hope you guys enjoy this

Warnings: Explicit. Oral(fem receiving) Body worship. Finger sucking. Squirting. Multiple orgasms. Willy being down bad.

Summary: You’re sweeter than any chocolate he could cook up, and Willy is all too eager to show you just how much he craves you. Your smiles, your attention…your taste.

The last few weeks of your life have been vibrant.

Filled with technicolor so unlike the dreary years you’ve spent in this town. Between the weather and the chipped cobblestone, England was so gray this time of year. Frigid and frozen over with winter winds and a constant flurry of snow.

It was on a particularly cold night that you’d found him.

Saved him, he’d argue whenever he told the story. Saved him from Bleacher and his mangy mutt.

“Don't you ever get tired of harassing people?” you'd sighed as you'd stumbled upon the scene. A familiar one- another poor soul about to get roped into Bleacher and Scrubbit’s barely concealed hoodwink. Everyone who’d grown up in this city knew better.

“Why don't you mind your business, Y/N. And leave us be. Both me and mister-” Bleacher looks to the man. The one with the sharp cheekbones and the ostentatious velvet trench coat.

“Wonka. Willy Wonka” And he’d said it with such innocence gleaming in those bright eyes that in that moment, you knew you couldn't let him fall victim to the cruel scam.

That’s how you’d ended up with an unexpected housemate.

The home you’d grown up in is nothing special and far from fancy, but you do happen to have a spare room. One with an old fold-out bed that’s more comfortable than it looks. It may have been stupid, but you couldn't help but trust him. Want to help him, feel this pull to him…

That was weeks ago. Almost a month now.

Willy living with you, under your roof, feels oddly natural. Like it had been years that the two of you had been co-existing, he fits into your space like he was destined to come to you. Like he belongs there; the two of you working together like a well oiled machine.

You cook dinner, he washes the dishes and wipes down the counters. The house has never been neater. Even though you try to deny them, every day when he returns from the Gallery Gourmet, he leaves silver shillings in the key bowl on the kitchen table.

“It’s not much…but I want to make sure I’m paying my way. I’m real appreciative of all you’ve done for me” he tells you so earnestly it makes you blush. You sneakily slip his sovereigns in the pockets of his trousers when you do his laundry.

He doesn't know it but he’s helped you too. And not just by scrubbing dishes.

You truly hadnt realized how lonely you were until he came along, and you were terrified of losing your found companion. You’d hold on to him for as long as he’d allow.

Your new favorite time of the day is the evenings; quiet ones. With a fire burning in the hearth and the radio playing softly. You and Willy curl up on the couch, warm in your respective quilts. And read. Well, you read to him. At his persistent insistence.

“Aren't you tired of me blabbing yet?” you tease as you pick up the dog eared copy of The Hobbit that the two of you had been working your way through.

Willy gives you a grin, all boyish and crooked “Never that. I adore the way you tell stories”

That makes your stomach swoop dangerously and you shake your head “You’re a flatter, Mr. Wonka”

“No, no. Your voice is more melodic than the bells of Notre Dame” and when he says things like that to you, how are you not supposed to swoon? From any other man it would make you scoff, but from Willy his compliments always feel different.

Like maybe he’s telling the truth…

You ignore it and change the subject to something that feels safer “One day i'm gonna put you in front of a map and make you show me all the places you’ve been”

“Honestly, It would probably be easier to mark off the few places I haven't been-”

“Oh ho ho ho. How modest of you, great explorer” You tease around a laugh and his ears redden a bit at your ribbing.

“It's not like that and you know it” Willy defends “It was a lot less glamorous than it sounds. I spent seven years under the deck scrubbing pots and then collecting ingredients for my chocolate whenever we made port”

“And wooing girls on every continent?” I ask and that blush on his ears spreads to the high apples of his cheeks.

He’s a pretty one and you know even though he pretends to be demure, might come off as innocent, he’s anything but.

You’d gotten a small taste of it, and hadn't thought of anything else since. But neither of you had quite mustered the bravery to talk about that yet.

The two of you settle in on the old worn couch with mugs of steaming hot chocolate, courtesy of Willy. He’d spoiled you rotten, made you develop a terrible sweet tooth. Any cavities you develop, you’re completely blaming on him.

“Willy” you whine.

“Just try it, please. I made this recipe especially for you”

You take a sip.

The first rush of flavor over your taste buds has your eyes fluttering.

“Mmm, oh my god” you can't help but moan. It’s the most complex thing you’ve ever tasted. Truly. He’s outdone himself- cinnamon and warmth.The kind that feels like a a lovers embrace. Sweet milk chocolate. Is that a hit of rose? “This is insane, what’s in this?”

At your praise Willy smiles like the cat that caught the canary “Cinnamon bark from Sri Lanka, Wild roses from China. Coconut milk”

You look over at him, appraising. Trying to figure out why his voice has taken on that husk. Why his eyes are boring into so intensely.

“What a peculiar combination of flavors” you whisper and Willy bites his lip.

“Its become my favorite combination lately” he admits “but I can't seem to get it quite right. You see, I was allowed to taste it only once, and its tormented me since”

Your breath hitches. Flashes of tangling tongues tongues and his lips pressed against yours. It had only been one kiss but it had wreaked havoc on you since.

You eyeball the mug in your hands. Maybe you weren't the only one suffering with the after effects after all.

“Is this chocolate supposed to taste like?...”

“You. Yes. Your kiss. Your tongue and your lips” Willy nods. “I don't know if anything can come close to the real thing, but I tried”

Your heart thunders behind your ribcage. The longing in his voice matches the one within your gut, the need that had been brewing.

“I’ve spent hours. Thinking of you, trying to imitate your taste so that I could have it one more time. Spicy, but not quite. More warm. Sweet…the floral note from your lipstick. I’ve been nearly everywhere and i’ve never sampled anything quite like it”

With his confession, the thin thread of control snaps.

You’d been trying, so hard. Trying not to scare him away. Trying to keep the intensity of your feelings at bay so that he’d stay, even after he secured his shop. That he wouldnt leave you when he found success-

You place the mug down on the old wood of the side table-

“Please” Willy’s pathetic as he grabs at your arm “Don't go, I understand if this was too much but I- I didn't know how else to show you”

You lean into his touch, not away and that seems to calm him if only just.

Of course this sweet silly man couldn't just tell you that he cared for you. That was not his style. He was bad with words, so much better with his hands. To him, he’d shown you the most sincere form of devotion, crafted your portrait with his most loved medium.

“I feel the same” you say, voice quivering just the tiniest bit. His eyes melt and he comes in close, forehead knocking against yours.

When you kiss him its hot from the start. It’s wet and electric, charged with emotion. With desperation. Willy’s sinewy hands are all over you, cupping your chin, squeezing your waist, so much more bold this time. The waiting had lowered any inhibitions he might have had.

It’s frantic, him unbuttoning your blouse and you tugging at his trousers.

You need more. Need to feel his dark silky hair between your fingers, his pale skin under your palms.

Nothing feels like enough. Not when he mouths at your garment covered breasts or when you wiggle out of your skirt.

You reach into his boxers, wanting to palm at the blood hot hardness you’ll find there-

He groans and pulls his mouth away from your neck, where he’d been suckling marks into the delicate skin. “Wait, don’t”

“Why?” you’re confused, you can feel him. Firm and needy under the cloth.

“Because I want to take care of you first. With my mouth. If you’ll let me”

And oh. Oh.

All you can do is nod. Lay back and let him take what he needs, you feel more vulnerable than ever before. When he blankets you with his body, you realize that you also feel safer. Adored by this man, by this odd beautiful man.

Willy is a tactile person. He wants to touch and taste. And so that is what he does.

There’s so much to feel. Your heavy breasts, peaked with hard little nipples that he swirls his tongue round. Your belly and wide hips, so soft, so much give, he watches his fingers dig in and indent. Your thighs, so plush.

He buries his head between them. And inhales, deeply.

“Willy!” you exclaim, scandalized, trying to close your legs, but he shoulders his way deeper.

“You smell so good” Willy reassures you, his nose pressed against the wet patch on your knickers. Groaning like it’s the best scent in the world.

He takes his time, savors the moment as he peels the damp fabric away. His eyes locked on how the strings of slick stretch and shine in the low fire light. You’re so wet, the puffy lips of your cunt sopping already. And when he takes his first tentative lap, he knows that he could do this for hours and there's no way he’d ever be able to replicate it.

Nectar from the gods. Earthy and sour sweet.

You whimper as he feasts, as he gorges greedily. The sight of his dark head bobbing between your thighs makes you shudder. It’s almost unreal. That he’s doing this, that he wants you. His arms are wrapped around the back of your thighs, holding them up, holding you open.

You come for the first time with your fingers buried in his hair, pressing his face deep into you. Riding his nose and tongue.

For the second time you’re arching away from the sharp pleasure.

“Willy” you choke on your whines as his fingers reach deep into you, hitting that sensitive place inside over and over. You’re shaking with overstimulation, but hes groaning like he’s the one being brought to orgasm over and over.

He pulls his wet mouth away every so often. To tell you how beautiful you are. How good you taste.

“I can’t” you whisper, warningly.

“Please” Willy insists, his breath against your clit “One more, one more for me”

You can't deny him anything, can you?

You arch right up from the couch cushions, squealing as you hit that peak again. But this time is different, this time something inside you bursts, pushing wetness out in a flood.

Willy lets out a gutted sound from where he’s smothered by your thighs, that have tightened vice like around his head during your orgasm.

Coming down from it is almost painful and you’ve never sobbed from pleasure but well. There’s a first time for everything. While you shake and shiver Willy’s gentle, petting your thighs and tummy in soothing circles. Pulling away from your over sensitive flesh.

He stares up at you, his gaze heavy and his tongue poking out every few seconds. Swiping at his wet lips. Like he can't stop tasting you. It’s debauched. Beautiful.

“You are the best thing i’ve ever tasted” Willy pants out the vow, raw with honesty. Drunk on the flavor of you.

Wryly, you wonder if he’ll try to manufacture it into a truffle. A fancy bon bon.

You smile as he climbs back fully on top of you, your arms wrapping around him and holding him close. You kiss the shell of his ear before whispering-

“My turn to taste you”

🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬

I never thought I’d be writing Willy Wonka smut but well. Here I am lol

[nekohime19]

Macaque study # S5

At last let's talk about the LMK S5 and Macaque portrayal in it! Took me so much time to edit this one but it's here!

So, to summarize what I said in the previous study of Macaque, after season 4 Macaque showcases a lot of redeeming qualities :

He stepped up to help even though he wasn't asked to, thus showcasing his care.

He admitted that the image of Wukong he was fueling, the one of an uncaring person only thriving for power, wasn't real. And showcased traces of yearning towards Wukong.

Both monkeys reached an understanding at the end of the season. Wukong even extended an olive branch in the form of a peach popsicle.

So if after season 3 Macaque's place within the group was still tentative, this time after season 4 he showed that he was willing to help even when nobody asked him to, thus cementing the tentative trust he forged at the end of season 3. Now, saying that he's buddy-buddy with the rest of the group isn't quite true. There is a distance between them that hasn't been addressed yet.

S5 ep 1

Macaque appears in the first half of the episode, narratively his appearance is here to highlight the season's main plot : MK's origins. He's here to introduce troubles. Essentially, he's doing groundwork for the rest of the season, encouraging the viewers to already question MK's origins.

Now story-wise I think his appearance is very interesting because it highlights the current state of his relationship with Wukong. While season 4 ended in a tentative offer of allyship, season 5 begins with an argument between the two monkeys, an argument they tried to avoid.

So, right after MK left, And Wukong fail to broach the subject of his monkey form, Macaque appears through Wukong's shadow :

Macaque : Well, that went well bud.

Wukong : Hugh, are you actually lurking here?

Macaque : Hey, this mountain has been my home just as long as yours.

This first section of the dialogue is relatively tame. Macaque is falling back on his habits which are : teasing/ taunting. Macaque is shown as smiling, relatively laid-back, while he nips at Wukong's unsuccessful attempt at talking (of course, the “that went well bud” is sarcastic, but it's not as bitter as we are used to concerning Macaque taunting). And the moment Wukong questions Macaque's presence on the mountain, Macaque answers with another quip.

It's also interesting to see that Macaque still considers the mountain as his home and lurks here despite having the freedom to go and explore the world. Of course, I do believe the writers are keeping him around for plot purposes BUT I also find it sweet that he cannot bring himself to leave the mountain. Perhaps, in some way he's scared to let go of the familiarity that the mountain offers. Macaque says that the mountain was his home just as long as Wukong's, considering that Wukong was born on the mountain, it's not far-fetched to think Macaque was born here too. If we follow this line of thinking, it means Macaque never truly left the mountain. So, in a way, Macaque's only experiences with the outside world have been : the brotherhood's wars, his death at Wukong's hand, and his time as a slave under LBD….So I can understand if he doesn't want to leave the mountain yet.

Now, after this first relatively tame section, things turn more serious.

Wukong : You found anything?

Macaque : no but with the Jade Emperor gone the celestial realms… Things aren't good. Wukong… the kid.

Wukong : I know.

Macaque : You need to talk to him.

Wukong : I know. But… He’s not ready.

Macaque : You mean you're not ready. You really are the worst mentor.

First, we learn that Macaque has been lurking around the celestial realms and probably shared his findings with Wukong more than once if Wukong is aware of his lurking. That in itself told us that they take their roles seriously, they're preparing themselves for future troubles, as they said they would at the end of season 4. At the same time, I find it interesting how Macaque is trying to push Wukong around.

He begins by highlighting the importance of talking to MK, especially since he just witnessed Wukong's unsuccessful attempt. But Wukong is dismissive. He answers with a succinct “I know” and turns away from Macaque, as if fleeing the conversation. Macaque notices his unwillingness and frowns, he insists again, and he fully turns towards Wukong. Once again, Wukong repeats himself, while still averting Macaque's gaze, giving the impression he's still fleeing, BUT then he meets Macaque gaze heads on at the end of his sentence : “He's not ready.” This shows that Wukong is sure of himself, he's not just fleeing, he has seen how MK avoids the conversation, the kid is truly not ready. Yet Macaque answers with a quip meant to push Wukong out of his comfort zone.

Yes, maybe the kid isn't ready. But maybe you're also not ready either.

Macaque knows how to make Wukong's react, he's trying to push him around. Yet when Macaque sees that Wukong is getting angry (cue Wukong growling) he drops his smile and attitude, because he doesn't want to fight Wukong, they have more important things to worry about.

Macaque : He needs–We need to know everything we can.

Wukong : He's just a kid. Can we just-

Macaque : He's not just a kid! Why him Wukong? Did you know about-when you chose him…

Wukong : No, I didn't know. It just felt…right.

Macaque : And that doesn't bother you!? This kid just happens to have all your powers, that is at the center of all these battles. And you never questioned why? None of us even knew he existed? How?

They're both obviously frustrated by the other, yet contrary to other seasons they try to not let this turn into a fight. When one of them feels like they're on the verge of snapping, they turn away and put some distance between themself and the other. Everytime they feel like exploding, they try to reign it in. In itself this is a huge improvement from their previous fights. They're really trying to not let this develop into a heated argument.

As we can see in those various shots, they always try to keep a distance between themselves, they're really trying to not let this turns into a fight :

At the same time, Macaque is trying to make Wukong realize that they cannot wait anymore. The question of MK's origins was always looming over their heads, but Wukong never looked into it. Macaque believes they cannot brush the matter aside anymore. That MK needs to know, that they need to know to be prepared. Macaque is a highly cautious individual, so character-wise it makes sense for him to have this need of preparation. He cannot let MK's origins remain a mystery, not when so many coincidences lead him to believe someone is pulling the strings.

But on the other hand, on what grounds can Macaque criticize Wukong's mentoring when he hasn’t been around for long? Macaque is right in his worry, but his way of broaching the subject with Wukong is not right, especially since he's very citisizing of the way Wukong handled the situation. Perhaps because his feelings for Wukong are still very much tainted by his previous hatred, he's very harsh with him. At the same time, if he's not harsh with Wukong, who will be?

In the end, despite their best efforts, the conversation turns into a fight.

Before leaving Macaque says :

Macaque : Look, that kid idolizes you, you're his literal hero and you just…

Wukong : I just what?

Macaque : He needs to know it's not all on him. You need to do better.

Macaque is very harsh and critical, and he's NOT the right person to say this, especially since he has no right to criticize Wukong on mentoring. But he's the only one that can currently push Wukong out of his comfort zone.

At the end of the episode, we see Macaque laying on the same tree that symbolized his friendship with Wukong in season 4 surrounded by monkeys.

First, how obsessed do you have to be to be laying on this particular tree? Macaque… really I have no words, how much of a simp are you? Seconds, the monkeys truly missed him 🥹. It's good that he's home, finally.

S5 ep 2

I found this episode particularly interesting for its duality, at the same time it shows Macaque closeness with Wukong yet it also highlights the distance between them (while also highlighting the distance between Macaque and the rest of the team).

Closness :

Macaque recognizes Li Jing’s spell before anyone else, showcasing how he was already familiar with it. Macaque is also the first to rush to Wukong.

In prison, one look is enough for Wukong to convey his plan to Macaque.

Still in prison, Wukong laughs at Macaque's joke concerning “MK lawyer bit".

During the fight against the celestial soldiers, both monkeys fight in harmony, defeating them together.

After leaving the celestial realm, Wukong explicitly says “I trust no one that isn't standing there right now.” Even Macaque is surprised by this affirmation, as he is standing here, meaning he is part of the people Wukong implicitly trusts.

Distance :

In prison, Macaque is standing in one corner while both MK and Wukong are sitting in the middle, thus creating a physical distance between them representative of the symbolical distance that is still present in their relationship. Moreover, as we can see in the shot, a chain is separating the three, furthermore highlighting the divide between the three characters.

Wukong and Macaque argue a lot. Even MK acknowledges the tension between the two. Wukong even says “Classic, I get all the punishment, you get to mop” which can be a reference to how he was constantly the one being punished (the mountain, the journey, the circlet) yet Macaque always acted like the one suffering. In response, Macaque says “Maybe going to jail wasn't on my agenda for tonight.”, which can be a reference to how Macaque is always getting dragged into Wukong's mess.

After landing, Macaque picks a fight with Wukong and both end up arguing once more. More precisely, Macaque calls out Wukong on his lack of substantial plan, doubting how whimsical, possibly not real rocks, could be seen as a great plan. Once again, Macaque is highly cautious.

This episode does a great job at showing us the chemistry/ the potential dynamic of Macaque and Wukong (their closeness) but still acknowledges the distance between them that cannot be totally breached yet.

At the same time, perhaps because Wukong acknowledges that he trusts Macaque, Macaque in turns decides to trust Wukong and MK. He sacrifices himself to Li Jin, thus buying time for the team to escape and go search for those (possibly not real) rocks, a plan he clearly didn't agree with minutes before.

It could also be a call back to Wukong sarcastic comments “Oh sure, cause normally you just rush to my rescue.” in season 4. Here, Macaque IS rushing to Wukong's rescue, both when he rushed to him when Li Jin threw the circlet at him, and now when he's sacrificing himself to buy time.

We can argue that Macaque never truly apologized to MK and the others, and I do think a verbal apology is still needed, but I don't think it's fair to brush aside his actions as “idiotic suicidal tendencies.” He helped save the world twice, and here he's yet again sacrificing himself. You cannot forget those actions, or brush them aside as bad writing, because you don't like their implications. Yes, Macaque never formally apologized, he still needs to, but saying he did nothing to gain the others’ trust is a bit much and quite uncalled for. For all it's worth, the others do trust him, Wukong trusts him, but that doesn't mean he's their best friend either. He's someone the others can depend on, now is he someone they like is still to be debated on (I do think MK likes him, Wukong too even if it's more complicated, but I don't think Pigsy likes him very much).

S5 ep 7

This episode is great because it does show us multiple things concerning Macaque. It further emphasizes this distance we have observed between Macaque and the others but also showcases how differently Macaque and Wukong process what happened between them.

After saving him from the memory eye, Macaque argues with Wukong (“Geez Wukong, kinda wasting my sacrifice here”). Furthermore, we can clearly see a physical distance, even more so a barrier, between them.

There is a pillar between them, a fracture of some sort that further highlights the divide they cannot mend yet. At the same time, we can notice how differently Macaque and Wukong react in this scene. Macaque is turned towards Wukong, his tail high, he's more annoyed than anything, he acts normally by picking a fight. Whereas Wukong is turning away, tail low, we could even spot tears in his eyes minutes before. He's withdrawn.

Clearly, those two processed Macaque's death differently. Macaque had time to come to terms with what happened to him. He lived through his vengeance arc, he processed the fight in more ways than one. But Wukong isn't the same. It's very likely that he repressed those memories, that he erased them from his mind (cue the numerous times he avoided the word death, instead referring to Macaque as “leaving” or “coming back”).

But this episode also showcases Macaque distance with the rest of the team.

When Macaque saves Pigsy, he does so in the background, by that I mean that he doesn't show himself in front of Pigsy. He stays in the back. Not willing to be on the same level. Moreover, when Sandy brings everyone into a hug, Macaque is at first not part of it, Sandy has to bring him into it, and even then Macaque looks greatly surprised and even confused by the gesture.

Clearly, Macaque is shown as withdrawn when it comes to the team. On numerous occasions throughout the season, he put himself in the back. Because he knows that even though they might trust him, it doesn't mean that they like him. Macaque might have redeemed himself, but it doesn't mean that his development is over, he gained the other's trust, but he'll have to go further to gain their affection. He's not suddenly everyone's best friend. As we can see, and we will keep seeing it, there is physical distance between him and others in each of his appearances.

S5 ep 8

There isn't too much to say about this episode, mainly because Macaque doesn't appear much. It does groundwork for the next episodes, with Macaque being able to free his hand of Xianglu power for a bit, informing us that Macaque powers are effective against him.

Also, Mei make one of the greatest joke :

MK : I'm very used to all our used to our enemies being just your recycled old enemies.

Mei : or like your ex best friends.

Also, not Xianglu acting like he was friend with Wukong when in JTTW he only appear on one chapter and Wukong kicks his butt cause he was scaring a village.

S5 ep 9/10

Ah, so much to say about those two episodes, 😌. The season ties up nicely everything we already observed about Macaque, mainly the physical distance we often noticed between him and the team throughout his numerous appearances.

I will adopt a more thematic approach to analyze those two episodes, instead of my usual chronological order, because I believe it is more relevant in this case.

Confrontation with MK

Macaque confrontation with MK is a great callback to the end of season 4, when Macaque encourages MK to walk his own path. Here, Macaque is trying to let MK know that he doesn't have to bear everything alone.

Macaque : this isn't the kind of things I meant when I told you to chose your own destiny!

MK : you don't understand if I don't do this everyone loses, everything get destroyed!

Macaque : You don't always have to be the hero! It doesn't alway need to be you!

MK : this is the only way

Macaque : You don't know that, you can't know that.

Macaque first sentence is a callback to season 4. Clearly, Macaque is trying to dissuade MK. Trying to let him see that he doesn't have to save everyone alone. It is something Macaque already mentionned at the beginning of the season, when he told Wukong to do better, he also told him that MK needed to know “that everything wasn't on him”. Maybe because he saw what happened with Wukong, what happened when someone decides to bear everything alone, he doesn't want the same things to happen to MK.

The “You don't always have to be the hero” is quite powerful in itself. Macaque always had some problems with heroes, but he did acknowledged how wrong his definition of heroes was in season 4. Here, Macaque tries to take MK's burden away, to let him see that he doesn't need to always sacrifice himself, but also he's trying to let MK see that he's not alone. I think it's very clever to let Macaque have this particular line. Especially since in season 3 MK was the one to show Macaque that heroes never abandon their friends, and thus that heroes aren't alone. Here, Macaque is trying to reenact in some ways what MK did in season 3 by trying to convince MK that he doesn't have to do everything alone, that he has people to depend on.

But of course, Macaque get interrupted before he can truly get through MK, 😭.

Closing the distance

Macaque distance with the other characters (and especially Wukong) was an underlying theme throughout the whole season, especially within the shots’ composition. As we already saw, Macaque was always withdrawn, he never truly fit in the frame, always cut off by either an external object (chains, pillars) or pushed to the background. And of course, the end of season 5 offer a tentative resolution of this story-line.

First, we have this very short scene, after Macaque is interrupted by Xianglu, he decides to give his all and free the other and himself at the cost of his strengh. Before doing this, he clearly say while glancing at Wukong :

Macaque : here goes nothing, make it count.

So Macaque is putting everything in Wukong's hands. He explicitly decides to put his trust on Wukong. This is a great improvement, especially when we consider how cautious Macaque usually is. Moreover, once Macaque free everyone he falls to the ground in a way that is very remiscinent of season 3, after the fight with the possessed Wukong. However, contrary to season 3 where Wukong walked over Macaque while not even glancing at him, this time Wukong reaches towards Macaque and asks if he's okay.

Macaque is the one who has to push him to leave. This is a great callback to make us realizes how much those two evolved compared to season 3 and how much things changed between them.

Morever, after MK leaps in the pillar and everything fades to white, each member of the team calls for MK but Macaque is the only one calling for Wukong. Probably because he knows that if MK was able to jump, it meant Wukong failed, and thus meant Wukong is probably crushed by guilt right now.

But truly, the gesture that ciment Macaque place is Wukong reaching towards him.

Once the pillar is on the verge of being destroyed, and everyone stands together to face what is probably their end, once again we can see that Macaque is in the background.

There is still a distance between him and the team. But this time the distance isn't ignored, instead someone reach towards Macaque, inviting him to stand together with the team, on the same level, and that someone is Wukong.

The fact that Wukong is the one who pulls Macaque at the forefront, who close off the distance between them, is a very powerful gesture. It is a sign of their healing, but also, symbolically, can represent how truly Wukong is the one that connect Macaque to the others. It is through Wukong that Macaque met the team, and thus Wukong has to be the one that close this distance we have observed throughout the season.

Unfortunately, as we all know, Xianglu (damn guy) will intefer before Macaque can take Wukong's hand. Symbolically, it can represents how difficult mending a relationship can be, and even if both parties reach out to each other, it doesn't mean that everything will be healed. Yet the attempt was made all the same. Wukong reached out to him, and Macaque reached back, this alone is proof that their relationship, even if rocky, is slowly healing.

It is proof that this distance, while not fully breached yet, is slowly being closed.

Macaque's powers

Those two episodes also gave us something really interesting to think about and that is Macaque's powers. Macaque's powers are admittedly the most mysterious of LMK and that is because his powers don’t come from JTTW. Indeed, it is never mentioned, in JTTW, that the Six-eared Macaque possess shadow powers. As such, Macaque's powers are an unknown factor to us that had never been truly explained.

Here, we finally have some lead on his powers, especially when they directly confront Xianglu's powers. Indeed, Macaque is the only one able to free himself from Xianglu's hold. Moreover, his shadows are very similar to what Xianglu's uses, the only exception being their colors.

Xianglu : Oh that was quite a trick. That power, who gave that to you? Who did you make a deal with?

Macaque : a deal?

Xianglu : ah, it doens't matter.

So that's very interesting. First if Xianglu is to be believed, his powers are not something he's born with but rather something he borrowed. However, Macaque doesn't seem to be aware of any deals whatsover, so either Macaque unknowingly made a deal or he doesn't need to make a deal. I'm more inclined to believe the second option.

First, Xianglu powers are linked to the chaos. And the end of the season confirm that Macaque's powers also stem from the same source with this particular shot :

What lead me to believe that Macaque didn't need to make any deal is because he has been tightly linked to Yin symbolism throughout the whole show.

Indeed, the Yin is linked with darkness, passivity (which was one of Macaque trait in the past, as in he prefered to avoid confrontations), the moon… But the Yin can also be tied to chaos. As such, perhaps Macaque doesn't need to make a deal because chaos is a part of who he is, it is in his nature, and thus he's born with it.

The idea of Macaque being linked to chaos could also explain a personal theory of mine. During the brief flashbacks of Wukong and Macaque fight, that we saw previously in this season, we could clearly hear Macaque laughing manically while Wukong was pleading for him to stop. Macaque sounded unhinged, precisely chaotic, perhaps because his powers, naturally linked to chaos, took over him in that moment.

So this ends Macaque study in season 5. As we saw, this season follows through what have been established in season 4 : Macaque gained the team’s trust but it doesn't mean there is no distance between them. In fact, it is only at the end of season 5 that an attempt at breaching this distance was made.

Macaque and Wukong relationship also greatly evolved from the first seasons. They still fight, but now they try to make a conscious effort of not letting it get messy. Moreover, Wukong actively reach towards Macaque at the end of the season.

As always, this is my interpretation of Macaque character and you are free to disagree, no hate. I do love Macaque so even if I try to be unbiased, I know my appreciation of the show will shine through no matter what I do.

Maybe if season 6 comes out and I am still into LMK, I will do another study of Macaque.

S1 / Previous

[tracybirds]

Started this a wee while ago because @astranite and I were excitedly discussing astronomy textbooks and in particular BOB which is a real astronomy textbook for the undergraduate level, written by Carroll and Ostie as mentioned in the fic. We started joking about Lucille being an academic and writing the second BOB and then well... this happened :P

Many thanks both to @astranite and @gumnut-logic who have both read bits of this at some point - I hope you enjoy the finished fic!

---

"Imagine a world with no stars."

John reached down, brushing his fingers across the familiar preface, the uncomfortable weight of his mother's textbook feeling like home.

"Hi Mom," he whispered, his heart aching as he turned the pages.

Her orange highlighter was everywhere, notes in her clear, rounded hand scattered across every paragraph as month by month, year by year, she read yet another paper that strengthened the collective understanding of the universe. He knew that some of these notes made it into the second, third, and even fourth editions of BOBv2, but others lay dormant, waiting for a fifth edition that would never come.

Until now.

John took a steadying breath. He hadn’t dared to touch his mom’s personal copy of the astrophysics textbook that had redefined a generation in years. The Tracy text, with its dry wit and clear conceptual language, voiced with an undeniable love for the heavens above, similarly ignited a passion in everyone who read it. John was too young to know exactly when BOBv2 – the Big Orange Book – had become the standard text, but in doing so, Lucille Tracy had cemented her name as one of the great educationalists of modern astronomy. A companion to the original Carroll & Ostie, a text that delved with enthusiasm into every branch of space science, his mom had inspired a generation of astronomers.

His mom had inspired him.

And, as it turned out, there were people who wanted to see that legacy continued.

John scanned the email that had arrived without fanfare in his inbox that morning, though he already knew every word.

“Dear Mr. Tracy…” it began, and John knew they hadn’t meant him. Scott had forwarded the email himself, not reading beyond the subject line that mentioned only the title of the astronomy textbook he held in his hands.

This was how John learnt that his mom’s old publishing company were seeking permission to engage a new author to perform the necessary revisions for a new edition. John had never thought of Scott as being the executor of their parents’ estate, had never given much thought to any of the legalities of what their parents had created.

He glanced up as TB5 rounded the dark side of the Earth, the familiar patch of ocean his family called home slowly moving towards sunset.

His brother had gotten home less than an hour ago and it was for this reason, John told himself, that he hadn’t drawn attention to Scott’s error.

In truth, he wasn’t sure what he wanted to say.

Well.

That wasn’t quite true.

John’s grip tightened around the book as he steadied himself once more.

This text had belonged to everyone, that’s how his mom had wanted it, and that’s what John would want too.

He connected to Scott’s line.

With each ring, his heart sank further and further.

“Hey John, wha–”

“Don’t do it,” blurted John.

Scott’s blue face scrunched up as he peered at him through the holo. “Don’t do what?” he asked.

“Mom’s book, let me instead,” said John, his words beginning to stumble across themselves in his hurry to make Scott understand. “I can do it, just don’t let someone else take it away from her.”

“Woah, woah,” said Scott, looking more alarmed with every second. “Nobody’s going to take Mom away from you, what are you talking about.”

“They want to revise BOB,” said John desperately.

Scott’s silence rang between them, a pause that filled the distance between them before John huffed and thrust the book into the holocam.

“BOB,” he said impatiently, “Mom’s textbook, the Big Orange Book the Second.”

“Can you.. can you start from the beginning, John,” said Scott weakly.

John’s fingers twitched, struggling to steady his shaky inhalations.

“Mom’s publishing company sent you an email. You sent it to me so I read it, but it was for you.”

With every word, John willed Scott to hear him, to understand what he was asking. It wasn’t the revision that was troubling him, John had worked alongside academics too long to question the need for an updated edition as new evidence emerged and new lines of reasoning developed into discoveries.

“It’s the only link to her that’s just mine,” he said quietly. “I have to share everything else, and maybe that’s selfish of me to ask, Scott, but I want this one. I don’t want someone to overwrite her words, her passion, her memory with a fake. Someone who’s just pretending they could ever know what she would have said.”

“I can say no,” suggested Scott, but every fibre of John’s being rebelled at the thought.

What was worse, he wondered, to remain true to her memory and thus condemn his mother’s greatest achievement to history? Or to give up his claim to her and allow her work to shine anew, albeit polished with a varnish he’d never known.

Obscurity or lies?

John knew which he’d choose.

It felt like burying her all over.

“John,” said Scott hesitantly. “Would you want to do it?”

John’s eyes widened. At once a thousand reasons to say no erupted, his mind running through emergency scenarios and the intensive workload that revising a beast like BOBv2 would take, not to mention remembering the half a dozen other projects he’d made promises to look at when he got a chance.

There was no chance he would ever be able to agree to what Scott was suggesting.

There was no chance he’d ever say no.

“How?” he asked breathlessly.

“We’d make it work for you, John, you know we would,” said Scott. “We’d do it for Mom, but we’d also do it for you.”

John’s smile was wobbly, and he rapidly blinked back the tears that welled in his eyes as warmth flooded and swelled in his chest.

“Then let’s do it,” he said hoarsely.

***

“John!” shouted Alan, racing up the stairs two at a time. “You’ve got a package, Grandma picked it up on the mainland, it’s here – it’s here!”

John leapt up from the sofa, his quiet conversation with Brains and Virgil forgotten in a heartbeat as he reached out with eager hands.

“Scott, Gordon!” bellowed Alan, running outside and leaning over the balcony’s edge. “Hurry up, John’s book is here.”

There was a mad scramble, water splashing all over, but John hardly heard it, his hands turning the brown paper over and over. He could feel the bio-bubble packing material, its gentle give beneath his fingers making him doubt the reality of what he was about to find.

Alan slammed into his side, legs bouncing with excitement. John could see the amused glances traded between Virgil and Gordon out of the corner of his eye, but he ignored them, suddenly terrified that he’d ruined his Mom’s book forever.

“We all know you gave it everything,” said Scott, dripping water all across the floor as he gripped John’s shoulder with firm encouragement. “She’d be proud too. Let’s see it.”

The spine was orange, the dusky colour of sunsets as the night gave way to twilight and the field of astronomy arose. Tracy & Tracy stood out, stark white and magical. Each leaf was glossy and vibrant, full of excitement and wonder.

He glanced down at Alan, whose eyes were wide in awe, and smiled, opening the book to the dedication page.

To Jeff, who travelled my stars and inspired my heart. – L.T. 1st edition To Scott, John, and Virgil, who helped me to dream. – L.T. 2nd edition To Gordon, who gave me new adventures. – L.T. 3rd edition To Alan, for all the skies we’ve seen together  – J.T. 5th edition

John wrapped an arm around Alan, who had gone still as he read.

“It was time you were added to the Tracy text,” he said quietly.

Alan only hugged him back.

“It looks incredible, John,” said Virgil. “It’s all paid off.”

One by one, everyone gave their congratulations and wandered off, the novelty soon wearing thin. Even Alan slipped away, his video games beginning to call, but not before making John promise to get him his own copy.

Eventually, only Scott remained and he fell down on the sofa next to John, watching him quietly as he flipped through the pages one by one.

Soon enough John paused, running his fingers over the familiar foreword, every letter of Lucille’s passion immortalised once again. His foreword came second in deference to the original and, sandwiched between his mother’s words and the contents page, John had allowed himself more sentiment than he usually considered wise in a public sphere, comfortable in the knowledge that only the few who were truly inspired by what he and his mom had made would ever read them.

“She would be proud,” he said with certainty. “Of this, of what we’ve done without her.”

“She would,” Scott agreed. “They both would.”

John nodded, and closed the text, laying it carefully on the coffee table.

His green eyes shimmered earnestly, a mirror of their mother.

“Thank you, Scott,” he said. “For giving me this.”

“It’s yours, John,” said Scott. “Always.”

[batfambrainrotbeloved]

Hey, just wondering if you could give us some insight into how the sleepy kitten cafe staff met Alan/got close to him/what they think of him. Also curious to see what all the bats think about cardinal. Did they ever meet in costume?

P.S: Keep up the good work!!

Of course!! I touched a little bit in "Jerry the Raccoon" but that was mostly Tim & Zeek (and it was not my best chapter- but I refuse to edit it for my own sanity)

Also so far? No. Cardinal manages to maintain a distance 24/7 with bats (almost as if hes tracking them during patrol- wild right??) But overall

Bruce is tearing his hair out, but admits they are useful and more effort than they're worth.

Babs adores them, and is on a mission to find them out and take them under her wing

Dick finds Bruce plight funny- but is kinda unnerved how similar Cardinal is to a talon in some ways. (also just creepy in general)

Jason "Game recognizes game" but wishes Cardinal would stop running so he could ask him more questions

Cass never gets close. But not bothered by them.

Steph thinks Cardinal is badass but keeps her distance, doesnt trust the vibes

Damien acts like he doesn't care about Cardinal (He so does, hes obsessed- lowkey fanboy behavior)

Alfred thinks its nice Bruce has someone else willing to deal with Gotham, who ISN'T under his nagging control. Theres some respect there.

NOW Sleepy Kitten fam backstory (as of rn, subject to change as lore provides)

Well Alan Draper (Originally Alvin) was a normal civillian persona Tim had- but in order to MAKE a persona, people need to know you. Otherwise it takes a quick asking around to realize you aren't who you say you are.

So when Tim was Fifteen or so Alan "moved to Gotham" from Chicago and started taking classes at Gotham University. He started showing up at the cafe out of pure convinence before Obi and Gwen worked there (officially)

Obi's dad had a run in with a rouge, got injured, and couldn't work both shifts. So they turned to part time student and began running the store. They'd gotten used to Alan hanging around and they talked on ocassion but mostly enjoyed silence when the other was working. Slowly but surely Tim grew to love being Alan- one of the few times he could be stress free anymore and yet not be so alone. And Obi dealing with the stress of taking over family buisness had one customer whose ever presence was comforting.

A few months pass and they consider each other pretty close friends to the point Alan had a spare key to the cafe in case of emergencies. Soon after some of the other staff quit and Obi opened applications- Gwen showed up, nervous as hell having never worked a day in her life and already applying to like ten other positions.

But Obi was desperate and soon enough Gwen was at the cafe just about every hour of the day and night. It got to the point where she would hang out even after her shift.

Then by pure forced proximity, Alan grew to love her company just as much as Obi- though in a way that forced him out of his shell just a bit.

It was clockwork of Alan, Gwen, and Obi all at the Sleepy Kitten on random day hours chatting away while working.

Events of the chapter transpire, with Alan showing up with this guy who 100% belongs in a gang, but Obi takes "minding their own buisness" HARD and trusts both Alan and Gwens opinions (Gwen who just saw sad guy and forced to help)

Now Obi has basically permenantly taken over the cafe, but still takes some art school classes on the side with some of the profits that don't go back into the cafe.

Gwen and Zeek have an apartment together in the far narrows since Gwen was desperate to move out, and Zeek was company and free security, who also needed a place. Apartment is just a block or so from the cafe too

Alan lives outside downtown but commutes often, works odd hours but whenever he is free, will set up in the cafe and enjoy the peace for a bit with his friends.

Long story short- they were coworker friends, except Alan refused to take a job literally ever.

[neuvigroove]

𝒊 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒔 𝒍𝒆𝒇𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚.

pairings. scaramouche x fem reader synopsis. scaramouche swore to himself to protect you from dottore, but in order to do so, he must abandon you. before he leaves though, he makes sure to put a smile on your face. genre/warnings. pure angst, written in scara's pov, reader is energetic and childish, she/her pronouns used for reader, mentions of blood, stabbing, and death wc. 1.1k a/n. i actually shed a tear while writing this and listening to summertime sadness. playlist. die first - nessa barrett, summertime sadness - lana del rey, train wreck - james arthur

[2:39pm]

today is y/n's birthday.

i can see her in the near distance, skipping around like an excited little kid. she's always had too much energy for me to bear, but perhaps i've grown used to it, seeing that she's always glued to my side for some reason unknown to me.

that bliss however, will change today. dottore knows about where she's from. a planet far from the depths of teyvat. a globe dominated solely by the human race with no room for elemental power. a planet currently known as earth.

very little is known about this planet, which only causes dottore's interest to peak. her origin makes her the perfect test subject for the doctor, but i will not let him lay a dirty fingernail on her.

we cannot continue to travel as one; dottore will find her if she's with me. i don't have any cards left to play.

i do worry that leaving her alone would put her in another danger. she carries no vision, nor any strength that could compare to the creatures of teyvat. however, nothing is more dangerous than becoming an experiment of the second fatui harbinger. on the inside i know she'll be okay. she can find-

she can find my replacement. a new companion.

my only option is to watch over her from the shadows. that is the only way i can protect her.

sometimes i can tell that i hurt her feelings when we converse. but my personality is something i can't change, and she's never seemed to want change from me. perhaps that's why i've enjoyed her company more than i could ever enjoy another human being's. she understands me more than i think she does.

since i made her cry on her last birthday, i've decided that i could attempt to make her smile this time around. in my defense though, the cookies she made for us to share together were truly detrimental. but... maybe my words were too harsh. i forget what i said exactly... "you wanna poison me? are you so dumb as to have forgotten that i'm not human?"

my eyes trail back to ms. craziness and my eyes widen when she trips over a tree branch. i actually have no idea how i've been traveling together with a girl who has two left legs without dying. i don't notice the tears streaming from my eyes until she looks my way and spots me.

she runs over to me, and i quickly wipe the useless, hot tears. when i see her happy expression, i need to make an effort not to let the guilt eat me alive. i think i've admitted it to myself a while ago, but i love y/n. i'd presumed just as everyone else that i'm a puppet incapable of anything close to love, but if what i feel for y/n isn't love then i'm not sure what it is. i am positive that it is love. when you experience pain, you don't doubt it and assume it's something else. you just feel. and when i'm with her i feel.

"SCARA!" y/n exclaims as she topples me over in a hug. i nearly fall to the ground, but i'm able to catch us before it's too late. gosh, can she even contain her energy for two rational seconds?

i shove her off of me, but before i can say anything, she excitedly holds up a compass-like trinket in my face. "look! a sweet young boy gave me this lovely compass! it's supposed to lead you to wherever you'll be the happiest! and~ it led me right to you! we are just the perfect little duo, aren't we scara?"

i scoff, "and you believe that? it led you towards me because i'm standing north from where you were earlier."

y/n's excited expression drops.

"oh..." she pouts. "well... we can still pretend, right?"

pretend. maybe i can pretend she'll always be with me.

"pretending won't get you anywhere in life," i respond flatly.

"oh, but you pretend all the time," she responds. "i know you sometimes pretend that you can't hear me when i ramble about random things. although it hurts my feelings, you're still my best friend, scara."

what she said is actually not true. i in fact remember everything she rambles about in great detail. like that one time she was complaining about how she hates her hair because the wind blows it in an unattractive way. it was just so annoying because she needs to set her priorities straight. her appearance should be the last of her worries.

"give me your hand," i say. my voice is softer than i intended it to be. when she extends her hand, i slip a diamond bracelet around her wrist. on it is a charm with her nickname for me engraved in the center: scara.

please don't forget about me.

"oh, scara... it's beautiful! I'll never take it off. i promise."

"i have a matching one," i respond as i hold up my wrist for her the see.

she smiles when she sees the nickname engraved on my bracelet: princess.

there it is. her smile.

i sigh. "human, i know that you have your other shenanigans to deal with today, as do i. but meet me up that hill in the forest at sunset."

"oh, okay? scara, why are you being extra nice today?"

"um," i attempt a half smile. "it's your birthday, isn't it?"

[6:03pm]

i pick up the sword from the wet grass of the forest mountain beneath me. it's raining hard tonight. y/n is going to catch a cold, and i won't be there to care.

i walk over to the puppet standing across from me. my puppet. the puppet i've created to fake my own death. isn't it funny? the puppet of a puppet. both abandoned by their creators.

i take my bracelet off and slip it on its wrist. she has to believe it's me.

"i'm sorry," i whisper before stabbing my clone in the chest. i close my eyes when i hear my own voice cry out in a short-lived pain. it falls to the ground, lifeless as i walk away into the forest.

the bloodshed spreads with the heavy rain, and moments later, i see y/n approach the dead body. there she is.

and i feel as if my nonexistent heart has cracked in half when she screams. my eyes close in a sort of pain i've never experienced before. i'm sorry. i'm so sorry, princess. it's the only way you wouldn't look for me.

i wish that a day will come where we can be partners again. but on the inside i know that her human lifespan is not long enough to fulfill that silly wish.

scaramouche fanart credit: X (Twitter) : llxx88103769

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hi! I'd like to hear more of your thoughts on Rebecca and Eric from "Luster" by Raven Leilani. I just reread it recently and yeah, it is incredible (saying this as an almost 23-year-old Black woman that sort of identifies with Edie).

I really enjoy both Rebecca and Eric as characters - and within their separate relationships to Edie. However, it's really hard for me to understand which scenes/instances - besides the obvious humiliation they both participate in in regards to Edie - that show explicitly Rebecca's issues with rage and Eric's more absolute loserish tendencies.

I mean, I'm not completely unaware of the unsavory ways in which they act; not going to list them all out. But some of the reviews - including yours - and even interviews with Raven Leilani that talk more about the characters, don't go as in-depth as I'm looking for. I feel like the ogre reading Joyce :(

[The lines from the book I've been thinking of most often - though not my favorites are Eric saying "I don't think of you as a person at all" and (I'm gonna get the wording kind of wrong, but) "I cry everywhere and often" near the beginning of the book]

I hope this is asking too much. I really enjoyed your review and I'm already kind of looking forward to reading it again because of it <3

hi anon,

well Rebecca, to me, is impossible to read as anything BUT a white woman hitting middle age and realizing that she made all the "right" choices - she has a job that pays well and she married a stable man and together they adopted a child and got a good house in a good (read: white) neighborhood - and still isn't actually happy with her life.

I mean, what does Rebecca actually have going on? she's exercising furious control over her body via furious physical activity because it's one of the only things she can feel in charge of. she pushes the same on her daughter, making a child count calories in a way that's absolutely going to give her a complex. she didn't want the child in the first place; she tells Edie verbatim that she never wanted to be a mother and while I do think she cares about Akila's well-being I think she also knows that she's wildly ill-equipped trying to parent a traumatized Black girl. she's in an "open" marriage that reeks of "we either had to open the marriage or get divorced" that she micromanages from afar so that Eric gets as little freedom as possible with Edie in the early stage of their relationship; Rebecca doesn't actually want Eric to fuck someone else, she wants him to get tired of trying and come back to her.

after the initial humiliation of trapping Edie at their anniversary party Rebecca remains emotionally distant towards her; even after she invites Edie to stay in her house she stays mercurial and her mood is subject to switch on a dime, always falling back into little power plays to remind Edie she's in charge, because Edie is a safer and easier target for Rebecca's pent up frustrations than her husband or daughter. she's exactly warm enough to Edie to make it hurt more when she's callous and mean, which I don't think is strictly intentional (I don't think Rebecca consciously knows what the hell she's trying to get out of their dynamic, either) but is still an extremely shitty way to treat a vulnerable young woman who's currently completely dependent on her for shelter.

arguably the most relaxed we ever see her is when she takes Edie to a mosh pit, because that's one of the only moments of unrestrained emotional authenticity that Rebecca gets to have - and it's wildly outside the norm of her day to day life, something that she's supposed to have left behind when she started dating Eric. Rebecca is so furiously dissatisfied with everything about her life and I frankly think she'd be happier if she disappeared in the night to go be a bartender or a roadie and never saw her husband or daughter again, but she'll never do that because you Can't do that, not if you're a respectable woman trying to cling to the signifiers of success that you worked so hard for.

re: Eric being a loser I really don't know what I need to cite other than him having a wife and a girlfriend and not treating either of them well tbh

[starlitprism]

"That's a Major": My Marcille Degree Rant

OK we're starting with this. Funny right? Yeah.

BUT IT GOT ME THINKING

You know what no one brings up in that story? NO ONE?!

This is just a major. This is a MAJOR! YOU CAN DO IT AT HER ALMA MATER.

It is not HER FAULT that this was available. She went in, saw something interesting and went "COOL" because IT'S A MAJOR. Because apparently this CODIFIED FORM OF STUDY is also just something the elves hate. NOW, it honestly seems to surprise all the characters that this was a MAJOR she could choose but let's be honest here. This is just a reverse of the meme where experts greatly overestimate how much the average person knows about their craft. Of course they don't know. The only one that WOULD know in the story is the impetus for the whole FUCKING PLOT.

She who probably would respond by "yeah I know. That's on the curriculum. I took an intro class" BUT NO. We don't get that because she's too busy being dead or other weird shit partially thanks to that same set of courses. Like, you will notice everyone is super surprised when they bring her back but NOT HER. SHE KNEW. Everyone else is like "look at this unholy abomination" when it's just like a history degree. Seriously though, Falin seems a little surprised and disoriented at first but otherwise seems utterly unfazed at waking up in a blood circle surrounded by a dead dragon's innards.

THAT SAID, I am exaggerating for comedy. Here is what we actually know. In the very next scene in the hot tub, she does note that there was something about the circle that felt wrong to her. So maybe she didn't know her shit about this. Or, maybe she only knew about it academically as related to what Marcille studied and never seen or experienced it in any way. That or somehow Marcille managed to keep a secret from the woman she very obviously adores with her literal everything which I... doubt. Then again, she is Laios' sister so who knows if she carries the same level of general obliviousness (I am also autistic like Laios is so I can just state that outright. We can be fucking OBLIVIOUS at times).

It also goes to show, the elves are idiots. They are so certain that this is so unknown that they have to hunt individuals while there is some professor(s) somewhere just... teaching it. Or at least something related! For, like, a day job! And they never even think to ask "where are all these people learning this" NO. THEY DON'T. THIS IS GONNA KEEP HAPPENING. BECAUSE IT'S JUST AVAILABLE. AND THEY, in their hubris, can't imagine ANYONE EVER having this information BUT THEM. It could just be freely available and everyone knows not to talk about it because the elves got a SPIKE in their collective ass!

Ok, you ask, "but what if it was a secret?" and you know what? Fair. To that I have to say https://tenor.com/view/marcille-best-girl-failure-tantrum-breakdancing-dungeon-meshi-delicious-in-dungeon-gif-7429268588073434370

(The above is a picture and link to a gif of Marcille on her head, kicking her legs wildly because this girl doesn't react normally ever to anything) This. This is Marcille when something happens. She's not subtle. She has never been subtle. She commonly screams her reactions. I call bullshit on secret.

More importantly though, that's not really how education tends to work. People study something and, outside of MAYBE grad school level or PhD level minimum, you largely talk with people who know your subject.

You gotta remember, education is a bunch of nerds who want to talk about their shit. People don't just research something to know it. They research it to publish it and have it peer reviewed even if it's just an assignment they turn into their professor which I guess is like a first step to publishing.

Research is gathered, references found, pointed to, and then showed off. AND IN THE CASE OF PRACTICAL STUDIES, people do it! You got to prove your research was right. Otherwise it's a bunch of potentially useless theory. So if you think Marcille hasn't done SOMETHING like this before, there's no way. She was confident she could do SOMETHING about it. Just saying, I would pay a lot to see the face's on the member of her dissertation committee.

I brought this up with some friends and they mentioned that she might have just studied Dungeon creation and studied Ancient Magic on her own. And fair but then Ancient Magic wouldn't be her specialty would it? At least, except in a very egotistical self estimated way without ANY outside feedback which is a core tenet of education. Unless she was the pre-eminent lone scholar of ancient magic of course but she never goes on about that so i'm going assume that's not the case. Here is what we got from the show

In the show she says "What I specialize in is actually ancient magic which is highly forbidden. It's use is frowned upon but using it to revive Fallin, it's our best option"

When Senshi and Chilchuck, protested she just says "magic doesnt' have morality"

Now I could be wrong but for this wonderfully high-strung woman whose reactions are so so much, this looks practiced and calm. She either has defended this before, was quoting something someone else (like a teacher), or somehow she has suppressed all her beautiful exaggerated weirndess in the midst of ABSURD amounts of stress. Personally, I think Option 2 and 1 are more likely as this is a highly emotional subject for her and her self control is shit.

Like seriously, let's say her alma mater doesn't have a class that teaches ancient magic. Let's say, no one but her knows much of anything. What would happen if someone caught her in the library grabbing strange books that have scraps of ancient magic knowledge in them? She's allowed to be there but she's just so... HER that she would probably jump in surprise and try and justify it while trying NOT to reveal what she is researching. And because she has all the cool of a pickle, EVERYONE in school would know Marcille was up to something.

The above is a picture of Marcille losing her shit from a video titled "Marcille gradually losing her mind for 6 minutes || Dungeon Meshi. The link to it is https://youtu.be/gmY2x8_nnjw

So yeah, there would be rumors. The worst kept secret in the school is Marcille is a bad girl who researches something questionable. To say nothing of the fact that this girl has demonstrated major teacher's pet energy. I would put my money on there being at least one professor there who gets occasional downloads of ancient magic from one of their top students all while they look on going "I can tell no one" unless of course there is an actual program.

FOR MY FINAL POINT I HAVE BUT ONE WORD TO GIVE. Internet

By which I mean, the lack of it. Do you have any idea how hard it is to research something based only on the physical books you have access to in a specific location? IT TAKES AWHILE TO GET ANYWHERE.

That means travel for you or your subject matter and, with something like THIS that could be considered dangerous, you would have to be SO damn careful to make sure you don't get a reputation as "the ancient magic girl." That said, she's a (warning, spoilers) half elf so she has time. SO MUCH TIME. But we know it hasn't been too much time because Falin attended at the same time as her. Falin and her brother did various (failed) things for several years before Marcille showed up at the dungeon. I, at least, don't know how much time passed but they both clearly look to be in their 20s or so to me. Could be wrong due to the art style but that's just my read. At most, SUPER low 30s. Which means, Marcille couldn't have been traveling everywhere taking months and months to cross seas to get specific books for that long. That time would get eaten up so very quickly.

WHICH LEADS US back to the start. And my claim that the simplest most likely explanation IS

This Is

A Major

[legomonkiefics]

*BOLTS TO YOUR INBOX*

hiya!! i really love your work and am glad that you are feeling better, even if its a little bit! welcome back :3

could i request red son with a S/O he’s known since he was a kid, but only as an adult did he confess to them?

❤️🔥 Flickers Left Unsaid — Red Son x GN Reader Drabble 🔥❤️

Genre: Fluff || He/she/they pronouns for Red Son, they/them pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆˚｡⋆୨🔥୧⋆˚｡⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖

Though he often refrained from admitting it, the flame prince was rather emotional. However, that's not to say that he was particularly good at managing said emotions. She felt very intensely, anger like a wildfire and joy like fireworks. But expressing these feelings, processing them, or reasonably resonating with them? Much less common for the princess.

You, somehow, had stuck by him when he was a particularly rambunctious and chaotic kid. His parents saw you as someone to keep their kid distracted while they planned his future, so you were allowed at the Demon Bull Kingdom whenever you pleased. Red Son delighted in your visits as a kid, always excitedly holding you by the wrist and dragging you everywhere. She wanted to show you every single scrap of metal they'd find, and displayed great enthusiasm n having you witness her majesty. But there was something a little more to it, something that stuck with the demon for many years to come.

She remembered a particular instance where you were playing his favorite game, Kingdom Battles. He'd set up obstacles, having designated areas for where each 'Kingdom' was, and you'd be his most trusted right hand, helping them take over the world. After a vicious fight with a mock dragon made of cleaning materials, Red Son had excitedly taken you to his 'castle' to announce to her loyal subjects of stolen home objects that you'd returned safe and sound. In the middle of narrating and acting out the joy of the monarchy, you'd said something that caught her attention. "You're such a great king, Red Boy! I can't wait to be part of all this for real someday!"

And though it had all been a game, just a young royal and his pal playing pretend, in that moment it felt very real. You were genuinely his closest and only friend, so having you in these big, important positions only felt right. And he'd always brag about how they'd be the king someday, so it made sense. He'd given you a bright smile that day, already mentally planning how he was gonna convince his mom and dad to let you rule beside him.

Things... didn't quite end up going as planned. Red Son was still merely a prince, and he'd had a few arguments with his parents over you for so long. But things were getting better. Red Son was flopped on his bed, one arm draped dramatically over his eyes. They'd never had the chance to tell you how she felt back then. When they were young, they had no idea what it was. She assumed the flutters in her chest and warm feelings were some demon biology thing or something. But he knew now, and he was all too aware of it. He ruminated over his feelings for what felt like the 50th time that hour. Sure, he was still abrasive, but he was much more controlled than he was a kid. This shouldn't be so hard, right?.... Gods this was going to kill her. But they were pulled out of their own thoughts at the sound of the door being knocked, making him shoot upright immediately.

"Darling, your friend is here" Princess Iron Fan announced, not even sparing a glance as she held open the door. You entered, giving her a polite "Thank you, ma'am" before the door was closed, leaving you and Red together. You walked in, flopping on the bed next to her "Whew. I thought their lectures were never gonna end". Red Son smiled, laying back with you "Did they try to convince you to leave again?". "Not quite, but they did go on a lot about how a prince 'should' associate himself with others" You answered. Red Son rolled his eyes "They can complain all they'd like, you're still welcome over anytime". "Thanks, Redsy" You smiled, making that extra soft warmth fill Red Son's chest once again. He was almost on pins and needles from the idea of actually doing this.

"So, why'd you call me in? Get bored of royal junk again?" You asked. This was it. That was her opening. Red Son took in a shaky breath, slowly sitting up once more. "No, I... I have something I need to discuss with you" they said softly. You sat up as well, a concerned frown on your face "Shit, did something happen? Are you okay?". "Yes, I'm alright, it's nothing like that" Red Son replied, waving their hand a bit. They felt a little heat to go their cheeks as they added, "But it is... rather personal". "Ohhh" You responded. You sat cross-legged, scooting in closer "Hey, you know I won't tell anyone, yeah? You can tell me anything". Red Son nodded, giving you a thankful smile. She was sure the pink hues to her face were growing noticeable, but he purposefully tried not to think about it.

He took in a deep breath, taking your hands in his. "Do you remember that game we used to play when you'd come over? With um-". "Flareblast Kingdom?" You responded, chuckling at the memory "Yeah, of course, why?". "Well... I've been thinking a lot recently. We've known each other for so long, and... I want to fulfill my promise that I made back then" Red Son said. He was speaking a little slowly due to some stammering, but you nodded a little as you followed along "Which is?". Red Son took a second to collect herself. They took a chance, moving one of their hands to gently cup your cheek in her palm. "I... want you to be a part of my kingdom. This one" they began, adding in, "Mother and father have said I can appoint my own staff now, but with very limited positions. I- I want you to be my advisor, in real life, and-" he nearly got choked up on his nerves, but he pushed through "If- If you'll have me... I want you to be mine. My- partner, for life"

Red Son had turned their face away from you, full of anxiety and worry. He knew this was probably a massive shot in the dark, and that there were many more appealing than a hotheaded royal. He felt like his heart was in his throat, and he was almost tempted to immediately apologize. But that's when he felt you plant a soft kiss to his cheek. Her hair sparked, a puff of smoke and flames coming up in surprise. They turned to look at you as you giggled from the reaction, gently cupping the hand Red still had on your cheek and leaning into it. "I'd be glad to. You'll need someone here to keep you sane. And besides..." you smiled warmly "I love you too"

Red Son blushed even more, nearly all of his face entirely pink. They were stunned for a moment before hugging you tightly, burying their face in your shoulder. "I- I love you too," he finally said, hugging you close. He felt elated as you returned the hug. "I love you more" You replied playfully, causing the princess to chuckle as she nuzzled into your neck "That's impossible". You huffed in amusement, patting her back "Is too. You're just too stubborn to accept it". Red Son let that one slide, too wrapped up in the feeling of being in your arms to mind. You stayed there with them, holding them close as you enjoyed his warmth. "You gonna tell your parents?" You asked. "I'll tell them you're my new advisor, yes. The rest..." Red Son trailed off with a smile "they'll figure it out. For now, I just want to be here with you"

[jaydude1992]

I think you give way more credence to those novels than I ever will, to be honest. These days, I just don't automatically consider Legends content canon, because so much of it goes against the narrative of the films in my eyes. Guess this is just an "agree to disagree" thing.

Like I said earlier, my understanding of why Anakin and Shmi never remained in contact is that it ultimately comes down to bad writing on Lucas's part. If he had intended for it to be a strike against the Jedi, I'd assume it would've been portrayed as such. But it isn't.

My understanding is that "love without attachment" basically means love without possessiveness/unconditional love/valuing people and things for reasons besides the fact that they're involved in your life/not attempting to cling to stuff that doesn't want to be held by you. Lucas's logic is that all the above is easier to teach the earlier you start, hence why the Jedi prefer to recruit young. Anakin was recruited at nine, and he ended up defecting to the Sith and directly aiding in a genocide against the Jedi because he was that unwilling to simply risk losing Padmé.

Also, when we see Obi-Wan bring up the dreams about Shmi in AOTC, Anakin changes the subject to Padmé. And as far as I recall, he never says anything about wanting to inquire about his mother to Obi-Wan in that film, so we can't say for certain how Obi-Wan would've reacted. If we're going by Lucas's intentions though, I'd assume he'd at least try to be understanding about it.

For the whole Jedi and blood parents thing, it's ultimately not explained, because the focus of the Prequels is basically just how Anakin became Vader and how the Republic became the Empire. With the benefit of hindsight, I feel the Jedi could've benefitted from a bit more worldbuilding in the films, but at the end of the day, Lucas doesn't intend for us to see them as bad people. Whatever grievances Anakin has with them by the time of Revenge of the Sith, he ultimately puts them aside and warns Mace, Kit, Kolar and Saesee that they're going to be facing a Sith Lord when they go to talk to Palpatine about surrendering his emergency powers. And the only reason he's shown to get cold feet about this later on is more fear of losing Padmé.

[Attack of the Clones reveals that sometime after Anakin left to become a Jedi, Shmi found herself freed from her enslavement to Watto, but tragically died later on due to the actions of some Tusken Raiders. Anakin came to her aid in her last moments, but was unable to save her, and his main hangup over what happened is indicated to be a belief that he could've saved her if only he'd been stronger.]

Jedi critical folks: The Jedi should've gone back and freed Shmi; that would've TOTALLY prevented her from randomly dying! Also, Anakin and Shmi not speaking for ten years was OBVIOUSLY because the Jedi forbade them from contacting each other, and he DEFINITELY came to resent the Jedi over that, nevermind that there's absolutely no evidence to support this in Lucas's works!

[progeny-ex-machina]

So, I'm not saying COVID was synthesized by a 30-year-old amateur filmmaker from the American Midwest as a marketing stunt...but I'm not saying it wasn't.

(It probably wasn't.)

Let's start at the beginning. In 2010-11, I was in this fandom...

It was an ongoing story run by one guy a little older than me and it was clearly his first time having a fandom cause the first two parts of this story were done and for most of my time in the fandom we were all eternally waiting on the third and final part, which he kept saying vague things about, but never seemed to actually get anything done on it. Eventually, he conceded defeat and officially went on hiatus, saying that he did plan to finish the story and made this bizarre statement that when it started back up again, we would know, even if we didn't have internet.

The fandom, which for the record was comprised almost entirely of piranhas, was like "what the fuck does that mean??? is he going to get it on the fucking news? is he going to commit crimes? what the fuck???" and yeah, that was it. I moved on and mostly forgot about the thing.

Fast forward to like, January 2020? I think? I'm not fact-checking this as I go so whatever. I didn't know about this when it happened, I found out a couple years later, but he randomly started posting weird journaling videos from the POV of a guy who was in lockdown because of a global pandemic. After COVID became a thing, he dropped that storyline or whatever it was like a hot potato, and started the actual third part in earnest, and it was big and by now it's done and anyway the ridiculous thought just won't leave me that these events were related and that this dude made COVID as part of his promise to let people know when he started working on his story again.

Obviously this "theory" is a 3 AM shitpost level of seriousness, but yeah. That fandom was batshit insane and tbh I wouldn't have put it past some of them to come up with something like this. I sound like I'm exaggerating, but it's actually comparable to some stuff I remember from before the original forum went kaput. I wonder how many people following the third part were old fans from 2011 and how many were new people who found it later on. Either way, I'm a little sad in hindsight that I wasn't aware of part three while it was going on, because that would have been fun to be part of, I think. Oh well.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

chat if i may speak

[captainhysunstuff]

22 more images (with some saucy shenanigans and immature "seduction" tactics towards the end) below the cut:

Ryuk makes his grand return and is brought up to speed with Light and L's immoral union. The date seems pretty successful~.

Next (Mature)

Next (Super Abridged)

Previous

First

Master List

Transcript

[magiclwritings]

The weight of Apollo's arm around his waist was truly more than he could deal with at that moment. Though he made no gesture to stop him from touching, Isaac went completely rigid feeling Apollo getting closer. This was just like it had been back in college. All the secrets and strange happenings. Only this time the problem was sitting a room away, drooling all over himself. He supposed that was better than an entire fiance and wedding just waiting at the drop of a hat. But Isaac kept his gaze forward and merely smiled at Oliver because he didn't trust his own voice not to betray him at that moment.

Cass didn't dare reply to him when he'd caught the tone in Oliver's voice. But he couldn't deny that Apollo had a point. While the other two didn't know what they were up to, it was entirely possible that it was something they would do. But why a child? That was what he couldn't understand. Of all the crazy things to happen or even be possible, a child seemed far too much a risk. His mind was racing with possibilities and what ifs. "He only said it was crazy and he couldn't believe something like this was happening." He quickly interjected, taking Apollo's point to detour both Isaac and Oliver off this subject as smoothly and quickly as possible. "I think anyway."

He'd slid himself behind Oliver and brought his hand slowly up the center of his back. "I almost didn't recognize it." He told Apollo and the other two. Which was a complete lie. His grandfather would have been insulted to hear either of them say it was just a stupid language. A strong, noble language. Just as their dancers. "I guess that's my fault for not keeping up with it." He felt a little laugh accompany that but he was too busy tangling his fingers through Oliver's hair just then. But what if he's right? Cass glanced over at Apollo, being careful to avoid Isaac at all costs in that moment. "But maybe you're right. We might be able to get something he may not be willing to tell the both of you." He turned and leaned in to kiss Oliver's cheek and sighed. "If nothing else perhaps we can at least make some use of the toy store Uncle Ollie has seemed to acquired today." He teased and drug Oliver behind him and out of the kitchen before he could actually protest. He was damn glad for it too. The blond drew in a deep breath but it did little to slow the trains and trains of thoughts no littering his head and he and Apollo couldn't discuss in private. He doubted they would the rest of the night at this rate.

The door swung shut behind the two and it felt as though the walls and swallowed them. Isaac turned on Apollo with fury glaring in his eyes. There had always been an understanding since the beginning. Cass and Apollo were sort of a package deal. Where one went, the other followed. And for a while it had been fine but at some point, Isaac had hoped that need between them would have died down. Especially with both he and Oliver in the picture. Both relationships flourished but then there was just always what that was between Apollo and Cassio. Isaac wasn't sure if it was jealousy but there was always just something, some part of Apollo that he would never have. And Cass would. And it irritated him into his very soul. "Wha' the fuck was tha'?" He asked so abruptly he damn near startled himself.

Isaac sniffled slightly, settling into his own body without Apollo's warmth against him. It stung, and given the rest of their day, all he had wanted was just to take this slow and figure it out without involving everyone else and their nine aunts twice removed. Instead, there were at least three, possibly four if Apollo had found a moment to get a word out to his sister, that they now had a toddler in their possession that was calling the both of them dad. "You tell me wha' ya said to hi' righ' now Apollo o' I swear I ..." He trailed off, feeling the fury rushing through his veins and he drew in a deep breath, calming himself for just the briefest of moments. "I will no' allow secrets. I don' know wha's goin' on wi'h this kid bu' you will no' keep things from me." He felt how cold his gaze must have been before he continued. "Especially no' if this has somethin' to do wi'h her o' your family o' the blonde in the otha room." He paused, feeling his mouth go dry as he spoke again. "Wha' did ya say to him?"

“I can’t imagine they stayed in touch with her after…everything,” Apollo explained, crossing his arms over his chest after Cassio let his hand go. It was an assumption at best. Everything during that period was intense and generally destructive to the two families. Apollo hasn’t been in contact with his parents since. He imagined it was the same for her. “Her parents were just as strict about a pureblood marriage as mine were. Theodore hasn’t mentioned a dad other than referring to both Isaac and myself as his fathers, so I can’t imagine she’s married. If she and I didn't get married, having a child out of wedlock wouldn’t cause a lasting rift between her and her parents.” 

Apollo opened his mouth to answer Cassio, but Isaac beat him. He looked between the two most influential people in his life and felt the thick tension in the air. Of course, he knew the two were cordial with each other because they had to be, and he knew the tension between them mostly came from Isaac, as Cassio really couldn’t be bothered. It was something Apollo had always avoided discussing with Isaac, hoping it would just go away one day. Apollo would have had that conversation if he had known all of this would happen. He wished he had because Isaac was going to be fucking furious in a moment. 

Because Apollo had to talk to Cassio, it couldn’t wait, and he knew without a doubt that going off into another room with the blonde would send his boyfriend over the edge. So he did something slightly just as wrong. 

“Ya ne znayu, kto yeshche znayet.” Apollo did not look at Isaac as he spoke but felt his chin leave his shoulder. He did not look back at his boyfriend; there was too much of a crowd to see his face. Instead, he watched as Cassio’s gaze snapped at him. “Mozhet byt', oni poslali yego ko mne.” Every inch of Apollo felt guilty for using Russian to communicate with Cassio, to keep Isaac out of the conversation, but it was imperative. He couldn’t just talk about their actual employer out of in the open. Learning Russian was something stupid for them as teenagers. A way for them to speak in private while in a crowded room. They hadn’t used it in years. Until that desperate moment, Apollo had forgotten they had done it. “Ya khochu poiskat' yego vospomin-”

“Some would consider it rude to speak in another language when others who don’t speak it are present,” Oliver cut Apollo off, coming to stand next to Isaac. He looked between the two of them, hands on his hips. He nudged Isaac with his elbow. “Wouldn’t you agree, Isaac?” 

Apollo then turned to face Isaac and yearned to reach out, wanting physical contact to ensure he was okay. Isaac wouldn’t cause a scene in front of them. No, he wouldn’t display a weakness like that in front of Cassio. “I didn’t mean anything by it,” Apollo said softly, reaching to wrap his arm around Isaac’s waist, his attempt at testing the waters. “It’s just a thing we did growing up. I don’t speak it often, and I haven’t in years, actually, but when I’m overwhelmed, it helps me center myself sometimes, you know, thinking about the words and dictation. Quiets the brain.” Always the smooth talker, always the liar. “If you and Cassio sit with him for a bit, maybe you can see something we didn’t, but I wouldn’t waste any time. He ate his weight in pancakes, and I’m sure he’ll pass out from all the carbs soon.”