#why do you try to make me better than the divine

[balanceoflightanddark]

Hey, I know that the recent comic has gotten everyone down and out of sorts about Azula’s and the treatment form the bigwigs towards both Azula and subset of fans, it was quite a disappointing in many aspects.

Have you ever played Skyrim? Well one of my favorite characters in that game is Paarthurnax. Who was at one point dragon that enforced his elder brother Alduin’s tyranny over the Nordic populace of Skyrim, and helped his brother shirk his duty in ushering in the end of the Kalpa. Until though various reasons (including divine intervention…) he changed his ways and joined the Nords in their just rebellion.

After the war was won he sought seclusion and a life of contemplation and isolation on the “throat of the world” (the tallest mountain in the game lore). Almost like he was a medieval Stylite. Though the fact he was a dragon with wings does kind of take away from that a bit…

So Paarthurnax was an actual remorseful Philsopher who lived life as a hermit of sorts. Basically becoming the Iroh like figure the ATLA fandom likes to pretend Iroh is.

But during the game Paarthurnax says an amazing quote that stuck with me "What is better: to be born good or to overcome your evil nature through great effort?".

So Azula was a bully as a kid, whoopty fuckin doo. That doesn’t change that she fought and bled for her nation, was prepared to sacrifice her own life at multiple points in the story (such as during the eclipse for example or at the Air Temple) for its betterment (or at least was she was taught would be the Fire Nations betterment). In a similar vein to how Iroh did. Only much more successfully and bloodlessly.

Because while I reject the silly fandom notion that she was born wholly and utterly evil, she was raised in the Fire Nation’s imperial system. And has to overcome that taught imperialistic beliefs through “great effort” (which I think is happening to do in your story).

So anyway, this was my long winded way of saying, thank you for writing an awesome story (though ongoing) and we can all (or at least I am) consider to be the actual canon and ending for Azula!

Thanks for the response. I AM working on Chapter 24. It's just I had a lot of work this week and I've got a project for school. Finals are coming up, and I want to focus on that a bit. I'll still try to fit in as much work as I can.

Anyways, the comic. Yeesh. Do I even need to say anything about what a mess that was? I'm just shocked that they made almost every Fire Nation character, sans Azula, unlikable at this point. Which is incredible. We have two victims of abuse (Ursa and Zuko), an old regretful general (Iroh), two girls mistreated by the system (Mai and Ty Lee), and a toddler (Kiyi). You'd have to go out of your way to make those characters insufferable, yet somehow they found a way. On accident. By their creators. That's got to be near impossible odds, isn't it? Somebody do the math for me. I need to know.

It would almost be awe-inspiring if it weren't so rage-inducing. And they didn't go out of their way to insult Azula's fans. And they didn't pretend these guys were the pinnacle of morality or something.

Which is part of the reason I love Paarthurnax so much. There's a good reason why he's my favorite character in Skyrim, and he's a fan favorite overall. Simply put, he basically is what people would imagine Iroh to be. He formerly supported his brother Alduin in subjugating mortals before turning against him. When we meet him in-game, he's become enlightened and offers to guide the Dragonborn in the way of the Voice.

Here's what makes him compelling: Paarthurnax knows damn well what he did was wrong. He knows that people won't forgive him like the Blades if they find out who he is and admits he'd do the same if he were in their shoes. Hell, he's correct in saying that trusting a dragon like him is a big gamble. But that's what makes him compelling. Rather than giving into his instinct to dominate and his background of oppressing others, Paarthurnax sought to meditate and work on addressing his issues. He used to look down on mortals, so he befriends mortals and aids them in their time of need. He used the Voice to dominate the "weak", so he teaches others the Voice and establishes the Greybeards on how the Voice should be used. He aided Alduin, and so he willingly aided the heroes the first time around, aids the Dragonborn in their quest to stop his brother, and fights Alduin himself when they cross paths.

Paarthurnax knows he can do evil, so he makes damn sure that the chances of that happening are slim. "What is better: to be born good or to overcome your evil nature through great effort?". There is a reason that quote is so poignant. He's saying that anybody can overcome their dark side if they work on it, and it's more rewarding to actually tackle their problems instead of ignoring them.

It's what an Azula redemption arc should be about. She should acknowledge her dark side and that she's a bad person, but resolve to try and fix it. She's already halfway there. She's questioning herself in the mirror scene. Even in the comics, it's shown she is willing to change her behavior and bury her grudges if given the opportunity. The problem is that she doesn't see herself as worth salvaging, and nobody is willing to argue against her. That's the ultimate tragedy and something that could work for almost all the Fire Nation characters. How do you be good when you've done so much wrong? Zuko's struggled with it. Iroh's struggled with it. So why not Azula and all the rest?

That's what I hope to accomplish with my story. She's not there yet and she's going to be making some mistakes in the coming chapters. But I'm hoping to get her there. Thank you so much for the ask and I hope to get back to working on the fic as soon as I can.

[serviceable-mechanism]

Oh no you never learned how to argue :/

it seems like you’re getting irrationally upset so I’d advise you to calm down a little and try to see the conversation a little more clearly. Maybe check on your mother. As I previously clarified, I didn’t wear a condom the other night and I’m not sure if she’s hit menopause or not yet. Using basic media literacy skills that I learned in high school, I am easily able to tell the difference between a product simply stating where it was made, and one that focuses entirely on advertising its origin as a selling point. New York, notably, is not referred to as a Jewish holy land by anyone but the most insular and insufferable liberals, and my criticism of Israel was specifically from the lens of its relevance to the holiday in question. If you want to talk about colonial enterprise as a whole, that would require broadening the discussion. I think the existence of the British monarchy is also an affront to any belief in personal freedom or liberty. Happy? They’re just far less relevant to Pesach specifically

Ultimately, I feel like you’re ignoring the actual things I’m saying in favor of grasping at a vague sense of personal outrage. “Lmao even” Yes quite but I’ve yet to see anything you have said actually… contradict the statement. You may be laboring under the common playground belief that conservatism ends at the American Republican political party. If this is the case please let me know and I’d be happy to pick up where your primary education seemed to tragically fail you

It seems as though you are attempting to pick and choose between seeing our traditions as literal Christian gospel, and uncertain metaphor. As a bit of friendly advice, you’d be able to argue better if you chose one side over the other. Whether it’s an actual divine entity, or the vague and ultimately meaningless force of “tradition” you are still arguing without an argument. Believing that things must be a certain way because of historical precedent is probably an even more conservative stance than saying so because you heard a voice from above. Neither position is worthy of respect. Policies should be enacted if they will lead to greater degrees of human prosperity. Whatever you choose to call your justification otherwise, faith or forefathers, it is worthless in the face of real people.

I think you may have misunderstood me again. Israel (that is to say, the Israel of our faith, not the one in reality) can be broadly interpreted to mean the community and freedom of Jews worldwide. I have yet to see any compelling argument as to why it should be an actually physical country with a seat on world councils. To be sat beside the greatest colonial powers of history. Do you truly think so little of our people that we cannot aspire to a better path than that?

I’m sorry but I did say “church” and I meant “church.” Judaism may not have them but Israel might as well. This is hardly an important point to make, but you don’t really see the current existing country of Israel as a real representation of Judaism, do you? The country primarily funded by Christian nations, that allows Christian business owners to speed through their “conversion” and exists specifically due to a Christian belief in the end of days starting with the collective death of the Jewish people. I thought we were trying to engage seriously

I don’t care how you grew up. It clearly wasn’t with Jewish values. Just Jewish trivia. And that’s such a shame. Though I will admit, you made me laugh so that’s one thing to be proud of.

“breAd (dumbass can't even spell???!)”

Genuinely. This was very funny. I promise, when you’re older you’ll get the joke. Now if you’ll excuse me, I think her and I should go for another round

As passover rolls around again this year, i think it's a good opportunity to examine the fascinating interaction between capitalism's neverending drive towards profit seeking, and a product specifically designed to be unpleasant and unappetizing

Passover, for the unaware, is a time when (particularly strong willed) practicing Jews abstain from risen bread and a fair variety of other grain-based foodstuffs, and eat matzah in their place, to commemorate the historical suffering of the Jewish people. As such, matzah itself, the bread of affliction, is specifically intended to be, more or less, pretty bullshit. It's hard and nearly flavorless and cold and boring and nothing at all like warm soft beautiful sourdough bread my beloved (may we be reunited soon). As a result, attempting to sell matzah puts advertisers in a difficult position, presented with the task of making this horrible bullshit (i like the soup, okay?) look like something one would choose to eat outside of the confines of religious tradition

To commemorate this holiday, I'd like to look at a few of the approaches they have taken

Manischewitz

Right off the bat, we've got the brand recognition to carry this one through, and to be honest that's largely all a good box of matzah should need, considering the 99% of the time it will be bought out of obligation. Often considered to be the "autism of religions" Judaism is a faith that celebrates the importance of tradition above all else, so Manischewitz is going to have an advantage from jump. That said, I find the phrase "perfect for Passover" to be particularly redundant in this context. If you're Jewish, it hardly needs to be said, and if you're not, well, please eat something that tastes good instead

7/10

2. Manischewitz (again)

Here's where we hit our first roadblock. In addition to the brand name being sized down, thus lessening the advantage granted by cultural cache, this particular product makes what I would consider to be a rookie mistake. Onion flavoring. That is, they attempted to make matzah taste good. While tempting, this is ultimately an error. It's not supposed to taste good. It was designed and perfected by our most talented artisans for three thousand years to be be the culinary equivalent of watching paint dry. It is absolute hubris to believe yourself capable of turning that into an appetizing snacking treat with the addition of a little bit of onion powder

4/10

3. Streit's

In general, this one is not particular offensive in any direct sense. It has bold, bright colors, and a clear image of the product. I feel that "thin and crispy" is a particularly unnecessary addition, as, yeah man I should sure hope they are, and the addition of (light) salt edges this just a little closer to attempting to taste good, but these are relatively minor complaints. My true issue with this is the assertion that this matzah is meant to "pair with soups, spreads, and salads." This is false advertising

5/10

4. Yehuda Matzos

On the surface this appears to be a relatively inoffensive example, but the longer one looks, the more the cracks begin to show. The images present give off a particularly sickly yellow quality that makes them just a tad less appetizing than they already would be, and the description of them as "Matzo-Style Squares" really sells the unsettling quality of this whole display. And they're also gluten free. Yes, I know some people have dietary restrictions, but as far as I'm aware, most people who are gluten free already don't eat all that much bread anyways, and with the helpful acknowledgment that this particular product is "not a replacement for matzo at the Seder" as in the one time where actually eating the stuff is part of suggested tradition, I fail to see a scenario in which these things are consumed. It also, obviously, loses points for the "Imported from Israel" banner in the lower corner, though I'll get into that in a moment

3/10

5. Holyland

There is basically just the one advertising strategy being employed here. It's subtle, but with a keen eye I'm sure you can figure it out. The natural issue, of course, is that it's an inherently polarizing one. It positions itself such that one's political alignment is the only deciding factor in the decision to purchase it, and without other appealing characteristics, this is ultimately a losing strategy.

Obliviously, the primary issues here would be the ongoing genocide and human rights abuses, but as that's largely out of the scope of this particular post, I'd like to focus on how inappropriate a pro-Israel message is when it comes to the celebration of Passover specifically. Ultimately, the story of Passover is that of Jewish escape from bondage and slavery, leading to a forty-year of wandering through the desert looking for a home. That is, it is a celebration of the history of the Jewish people specifically as a diaspora. As the period of Jewish chattel slavery in Egypt is considered apocryphal from a modern lens, one should approach the narrative not as an earnest recounting of true events, but as a metaphor for the Jewish condition as a whole. And from this framework we understand the forty years in the desert searching for a homeland not to be a specific literal stretch of history, but instead a collective journey that the Jewish people undertake, to escape antisemitism broadly. Considering how antisemitism is alive and well to this day, one must come to the obvious conclusion that this is a journey we are still in the middle of. In addition to the fact that ethnostates as a whole are an evil endeavor, the idea that Israel should exist at all, is, from a Jewish perspective, incredibly hubristic and antithetical to the message Passover means to instill in us.

0/10

6. Streit's (again)

To lighten the tone somewhat, here we have something almost passable. Passover matzah. That's what it's for, that's what it is. And with what appears to be a depiction of the bitter herbs meant to be consumed alongside the matzah during a traditional Passover seder, this branding subtly hints at the clear implication: you are eating this because of your traditions. No attempt is made to make the matzah itself look good, and I respect that. That said, I balk at the idea of purchasing an entire five pounds of the stuff, but that inherent revulsion is in conflict with my desire to find out what exactly the "Passover game" enclosed inside entails.

7/10

7. Yehuda Matzos

I hate this. No, I will grant you, matzah is not supposed to be good. You are meant to long for the taste of bread. You need to want it. But, at the same time, there's no need to make it taste worse than it already does. It may be the bread of affliction, but, like, maybe not too afflicted, and I really think that making it whole wheat ruins my last shred of enjoyment of the stuff. This one's also from Israel

3/10

8. Streit's (again)

Go fuck yourself.

0/10

9. Rakusen's of Yorkshire

There's really a lot to say with this one. From the completely superfluous "vegan" sticker in the lower left hand corner (they're flour and water), to the helpful description of these as "crackers." There is just such a monumentally small target audience for this. I'm sure the population of British Jews excited to celebrate the coronation of King Charles with a holiday snack...exists, I don't imagine they're particularly numerous. Also, doing some research, King Charles' coronation took place on the sixth of May, 2023, while Passover of that year took place between the fifth and thirteenth of April. What event could this possibly be appropriate at? Having them for the coronation itself would mean eating matzah outside of the timeframe in which it is specifically necessary to do so (untenable), and having them for Passover of that year means saving this box in your pantry for a month so you can get questioning and uncomfortable looks from your friends and relatives during the Seder. Additionally, I really can't tell if I think it's antisemitic or just pretty funny that they thought a possibility of winning money was one of the best ways to advertise matzah.

1/10

10. Streit's (once again)

Finally. Now, here is something to be celebrated. Note the helpful yellow ribbon in the lower right corner, and the glaringly prominent "UNSALTED" staring us in the face. No salt, no flavoring, no bells, no whistles. There is nothing here to differentiate this particular product from any other box of matzah, except the specific advertising flourishes being utilized. And what flourishes would those be, precisely? "For each box of this matzah that goes unsold, a woman will die of breast cancer. This will be on you." That's right. Sure, you can rely on creative flavoring, to mask the taste of bitter affliction. You can offer cash prizes, nationalist posturing, or an appeal to tradition. But only Streit's is out here advertising their matzah the right way. The Jewish way. With guilt.

Buy our matzah. If you don't, you're a bad person.

10/10

[sapphicslut777]

Never perform a death defying act

And I won't fall

I am brave, I can save the very small

I am everything

But I'm nothing at all

You compare my light to the sky

Why do you try to make me

Better than the divine?

It isn't the same

Don't give it a name

Let me remain

Let me remain

I'm everything I've ever been

I'm everything I've ever seen

I'm everything that slowly falls

I'm everything and I'm nothing at all

I will perform a death-defying miracle

For someone with the chemicals to believe

I am brave, but I've gravely understated

I can't save you from what you've taken and leave

You compare our love to the sun

What have you done?

There's a limit to the prizes we've won

It isn't the same

Don't give it a name

Let me remain

Let me remain

I am everything I have ever been

I am everything I've ever seen

I'm everything that slowly falls

I'm everything and I'm nothing at all

I'm nothing at all

I will perform a death-defying magic show

For those of you that want to go someplace else

I'm brave, but I can't save you

From the things you won't change for yourself

You compare my light to the moon

What are you doing?

What are you doing?

It isn't the same

Don't give it a name

Let me remain

Let me remain

I am everything I have ever been

I am everything I have ever seen

I am everything that slowly falls

I am everything and I am nothing at all

I am nothing at all

[wethotcrazy]

CAN'T CONTROL IT

pairing: Franco Colapinto x Fem! Driver! Reader

word count: 739

just something a little short and sweet for franco colapinto. also i think the can't control their mouth and can't control their face would suit him well?! idk bro

The F1 social media team had a new favorite hobby: catching YN's reactions to everything Franco Colapinto did.

It started during pre-season testing in Bahrain. Franco, fresh in his Williams racing suit, had spun on his installation lap – a rookie mistake that had the paddock chuckling. The TV director, whether by instinct or divine intervention, cut immediately to YN in the Alpine garage.

Her expression was poetry in motion: eyes rolling skyward, lips pressed together to suppress a smile, followed by a head shake that somehow conveyed both "I can't believe this" and "that's my idiot" in one fluid movement.

The clip went viral within hours.

"Have you seen this?" Franco bounded into the Alpine hospitality area, phone already extended. "'Every Time YN Dies Inside Watching Franco Colapinto: Testing Edition' – they even put sad violin music over your faces!"

YN didn't need to look. She'd already seen the compilation – a masterfully edited collection of her various reactions to Franco's testing adventures. Her personal favorite was the slow-motion zoom on her face when he'd described his first F1 car as "spicy."

"I'm starting to think you do these things on purpose," she muttered, but her treacherous face was already softening at his enthusiasm.

"Maybe I just like seeing your reactions," he winked, dropping into the seat beside her. "Remember in F3 when you said your face wasn't that expressive?"

"Remember in F2 when you said you'd learned to think before speaking?"

His laugh echoed through the hospitality area. "Some things never change, no?"

The Australian GP brought new material for the ever-growing collection of "YN Can't Control Her Face" content. As Alpine's reserve driver, she was in the garage when Franco scored his first F1 points – a remarkable P8 in a chaotic race.

His radio message was pure, unfiltered Franco: "P8! P8! YN, are you watching? Better than that time in F2 when you said I'd never score points because I was too busy talking!"

The cameras found her instantly: pride blooming across her features before she could school them into professional neutrality.

"Every time they show your face, the comments explode," Esteban teased later. "I think you've got more screen time than some of the actual drivers."

YN groaned. "Don't remind me. Someone made a TikTok trend out of my different 'Franco Reactions.'"

"At least you're not 'Can't Control His Mouth' Colapinto," Pierre chimed in. "Did you hear him in the press pen? He spent five minutes explaining how you once bet him he couldn't qualify top 10 without talking on team radio."

"Did he mention he lost that bet?"

"No, but your face when they asked you about it said everything."

Monaco was where things reached new heights. Franco, running in P6 during practice, had been providing commentary that somehow always circled back to YN:

"YN's watching, no? Tell her this is how you take the hairpin properly—" Franco spoke through team radio confidently before scraping through the hairpin.  "Ah. Maybe not like that."

The camera cuts to YN's perfect face-palm, followed by a head shake that somehow conveyed both "I knew it" and "why am I even surprised" in one swift motion.

The resulting clip went viral on Tiktok and became F1's most-watched social media post of the weekend.

"You know what I think?" Franco asked one evening, as they shared takeaway in the quiet of the paddock after everyone else had left. The cameras were finally off, but YN's face was as expressive as ever in the dim light.

"That's a dangerous start to any conversation with you."

He grinned, nudging her shoulder. "I think you like that I can't control my mouth."

"And what makes you say that?" she asked, trying and failing to keep her expression neutral.

"Because every time I talk about you, you make this face – like you're trying not to smile but can't help it. It's my favorite one."

"I do not have a special face for when you talk about me."

"Si, you do! You're making it right now!"

She threw a napkin at him, but her smile – soft and genuine and completely uncontrolled – gave her away.

The next day, during the drivers' briefing, Alex caught Franco staring at YN with an expression that mirrored all of hers – soft and fond and entirely unguarded.

The photo went viral with the caption: "Looks like neither of them can control anything anymore 💕"

[vaguely-concerned]

I understand and agree with a lot of the frustrations about the shortcomings of Inquisition as a story. but sometimes when I hear people complain about the chosen one narrative in it I do want to just be like... you know it's a deconstruction of the concept more than anything, right. the inquisitor isn't actually chosen by anything except stumbling into the wrong (right?) room at the right (wrong?) time because they like, heard a noise or whatever. or if you think they are chosen, as many do in-universe, that's something you have to take on faith, the maker-or-whoever moves in mysterious ways indeed-style. the Inquisitor isn't actually a Destined Chosen One, they're a Just Some Guy in a fancy hat, self-delusions of grandeur to taste as you'd prefer.

a running thread that goes through all of the personal quests of the companions is the concept of a comforting lie vs. an uncomfortable truth, upholding old corrupt structures vs. disrupting them, and the role of faith in navigating that. (blackwall the warden vs. thom rainier the liar and murderer. hissrad vs. the iron bull, or is that the other way around? cassandra and the seekers -- do we tell the truth about what we find, even if it means dismantling the old order of the world? and so on.) and your inquisitor IS at the same time a comforting lie (a necessary one, in dark times? the game seems to ask) and an uncomfortable truth (we are the result of random fickle chance, no protective hand is held over the universe, it's on us to make a better world because the maker sure as hell won't lift a divine finger to help anyone, should he against all odds exist). faith wielded for political power... where's the point that it crosses the line into ugliness? is it before it even begins? what's the alternative? will anyone listen to the truth, if you tell it?

interesting how you also get a mix of companion agency in this -- you have characters like dorian who ALWAYS choose one side of the comforting lie vs. uncomfortable truth dichotomy. he will always make up his own mind to go back to tevinter and try to dismantle the corruption of the old system no matter what you say, or how you try to influence him. meanwhile iron bull is on the complete opposite side of the spectrum -- so psychologically trapped and mangled, caught in an impossible spiritual catch-22, that his sense of identity is left entirely to you and your mercy. you cannot change dorian in any way that matters; you can be his friend or not, support him or not, but he is whole no matter what. you are given incredible and potentially destructive-to-him power over bull's soul. it's really cool (and heartbreaking) to think about.

this is a game about how history will eat you even while you're still alive, and shape you into whatever image it pleases to serve it, and for all your incredible power right now you are powerless in the face of the gravitational force of time -- of more than time, of History. you won't recognize yourself in what History will make of you, because you belong to it now. you don't belong to yourself anymore and you never will again. the further you were from what it needs from you to begin with, the more you will find yourself distorted in its funhouse mirror. (why hello there inquisitor ameridan, same hat!)

and to me this is so much the core of what Dragon Age is about right from the Origins days -- how and by whom history gets written, the inherent unreliable narration of it all. I hope you like stories, Inquisitor. You are one now.

I do think it's probably still the weakest of the games narratively, and it's hampered by its structure and bloated systems. but I also find it disingenous to say that there's nothing deeper or actually interesting going on with it, thematically. if you're willing to engage with it there is Some Real Shit going on under the high fantasy-tinted surface.

[cumironi]

HELP ME, MAN! : GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU

you, their little girlfriend, scared the shit out of your boyfriends. they don't know why, how, them, the strongest jujutsu sorcerers in the modern world are scared of their girlfriend.

warning. established relationship! satosugu, fem! reader. anger issues mentioned, you scared the shit out of them. fluff.

wc. | ( 𝜗𝜚 ) masterlist

( 𝜗𝜚 ) art belongs to the artist.

being the strongest sorcerers in the modern world, gojo satoru and geto suguru didn’t know fear. they had faced countless curses, fought against the worst of the worst, and never once backed down. no matter how dangerous, no matter how terrifying the curse, they’d come out on top, especially when they worked together. their bond and strength were unmatched. they could take on anything the world threw at them without flinching.

but there was one thing that shook them to their core. something even worse than a thousand cursed spirits combined.

you.

their fiery, sarcastic little girlfriend, who had more rage bottled up in her than any curse they’d ever faced. when you were angry, it wasn’t just explosive—it was terrifying. your sharp tongue, your piercing glares, and the way you could tear them apart with a single, biting comment. they’d rather face off against the worst special-grade curse than deal with your wrath.

and right now, they were both standing in front of you, like guilty children caught red-handed. you were pacing back and forth, arms crossed, the air thick with tension. they could handle anything… anything but this.

“so,” you started, your voice cold and sarcastic, “which one of you wants to explain this mess?” your eyes flicked between them, daring one of them to speak up.

gojo, never one to shy away from a challenge, opened his mouth, though his usual cocky grin was nowhere to be seen. “babe, it wasn’t that bad, was it?” he tried to play it off, but even he knew he was walking on thin ice.

you stopped in your tracks, slowly turning to face him, your eyes narrowing dangerously. “wasn’t that bad? really, satoru? because to me, it looks like you completely ignored the one thing i asked for.”

geto stood to the side, looking like he was praying for some sort of divine intervention. he knew better than to jump in too soon, but he also knew you were right. they’d messed up. and badly.

“idiot, stop talking,” geto said quietly, placing a hand on his friend’s arm, though his own nerves were clearly showing. then, he turned to you, his tone soft and apologetic. “we’re sorry. we really didn’t mean to mess this up, it just—”

“oh, so you’re both sorry? well, that fixes everything,” you cut him off, your sarcasm biting. “i guess next time i’ll just expect the bare minimum from the two of you.”

gojo winced, trying to shrink into the background, and even geto, usually calm and composed, was struggling to keep his cool under your stare. the two of them could take on anything, but this? this was something entirely different.

you could feel their unease, but it didn’t soften your mood just yet. “i ask for one thing,” you continued, pacing again, “and what do you do? exactly the opposite.” your voice rose with each word, your frustration clear. gojo shot a glance at geto, mouthing, “what do we do?”

geto shrugged helplessly, though he knew there was only one way out of this—admitting they were wrong. completely and utterly wrong. “look, we really messed up, okay? we’ll make it right, i swear. just… don’t be mad at us, alright?” he sounded genuine, his usual stoic tone now laced with concern.

you stopped pacing, your arms still crossed, and looked at both of them. “you better. because if you think i’m mad now, wait until i’m really pissed.” they both nodded, practically in unison. they knew better than to push their luck. after all, you were the one thing that could truly strike fear into their hearts. curses? no problem. a pissed-off girlfriend with anger issues? that was another story entirely.

“we’ll fix it,” gojo promised, his voice a bit higher-pitched than usual, clearly trying to get back in your good graces. “yeah, we’ll do whatever it takes,” geto added, backing him up, eyes serious.

you watched them for a long moment, letting the tension hang in the air before sighing. “good. because the last thing i want is to be disappointed again.” they both exhaled in relief, knowing they were getting a second chance. you may have been their biggest weakness, but you were also their greatest strength—keeping them in check when nothing else could.

I DIDN'T SLAM THE DOOR, I SWEAR!

there was also a moment—just like any other day—when you and gojo found yourselves in a small argument. nothing major, just one of those little things that built up over time. this time, it was about him always leaving his clothes on the floor. no matter how many times you asked, it seemed like he just couldn’t get the hang of putting them in the hamper.

you stood in the bedroom, arms crossed, glaring at the pile of clothes that had been tossed haphazardly on the floor next to the bed. “again, satoru?” your voice was sharp, laced with frustration. “is it really that hard to put your clothes in the basket? it’s right there.”

gojo, sitting on the edge of the bed with his legs crossed, looked up at you, his signature grin plastered on his face, but you could see the nervousness behind it. “come on, doll. it’s not that big of a deal, right? they’re just clothes.”

“just clothes? satoru, you’ve been leaving them everywhere—everywhere—for weeks. i’m not your maid!” you snapped, waving your hand toward the scattered mess. “you’re lucky i haven’t thrown them all out by now.”

gojo chuckled, clearly amused by your annoyance. “oh, come on, you wouldn’t throw them out. you love me too much for that.” he leaned back on the bed, the smirk growing wider. “besides, you could always pick them up yourself if it’s that important,“ he added, the taunt subtle but noticeable.

your eyes narrowed, the irritation bubbling up even more. he knew exactly what he was doing—pushing your buttons, trying to get a rise out of you. and it was working. you clenched your fists, taking a deep breath to keep from snapping right away, but the frustration was hard to contain.

“satoru,” you said, your voice dangerously calm as you looked at him. “i am not your maid. i’m not here to clean up after you like some kind of personal assistant.”

he opened his mouth, about to say something in response, but you cut him off, stepping closer, your temper flaring. “i already deal with enough without having to pick up your damn clothes every single day. you know i hate it when the house is messy, and you still leave your stuff everywhere. why? because you think i’ll just clean it up for you?”

his smirk wavered, just for a second, as he saw how serious you were. he might have been teasing, but he knew when you were on the verge of losing your patience. and right now? you were teetering on the edge.

gojo sat there, the smirk replaced by a hint of uneasiness. he hadn’t expected you to get this mad, but then again, he should have known. you weren’t one to back down easily, especially when it came to this issue.

he swallowed hard, trying to salvage the situation. “okay, okay, i get it. i know you’re not my maid. but come on, it’s just a few clothes. it really doesn’t take that much effort to pick them up, does it?”

you could feel your irritation spike even higher at his words, and your eyes narrowed. the way he was downplaying it, acting like it was no big deal, just pushed you closer to your breaking point. if it didn’t take much effort, then why couldn’t he do it?

“if it’s so easy, satoru,” you snapped, voice sharp with anger, “then why can’t you do it?”

without giving him a chance to respond, you bent down, grabbing one of the shirts from the pile of discarded clothes and hurled it at him. the fabric hit his chest, and he blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting that reaction.

“you think it’s not a big deal, right? it’s just a few clothes, no effort at all,” you continued, grabbing another piece of clothing and throwing it at him. “then why do you keep leaving them everywhere? because i’ll pick them up for you? i told you, satoru, i’m not your maid.”

gojo sat there, eyes wide, the smirk completely eradicated as you hurled clothes at him. he flinched each time one hit him, and he didn’t say a word, recognizing he’d messed up.

when you grabbed another shirt, he finally spoke, his voice softer. “babe, wait—”

you didn’t stop, your eyes blazing, and he saw the real anger blazing in them. “you think it’s funny to disrespect me like this? to treat me like some kind of servant?”

gojo looked at you, his usual confident facade cracking under your intense glare. he knew he messed up, but he still tried to keep some of his usual attitude, though it faltered when he spoke. “it’s not that big of a deal, doll, come on. i’m just a bit messy, isn’t that part of the charm?”

he knew the moment those words left his mouth that it was the wrong thing to say. your expression darkened even more, and another shirt hit him.

gojo’s confidence shattered the second the words left his mouth. he saw the way your expression darkened, eyes narrowing even further as the tension in the room spiked. before he could even backtrack, another shirt flew at him, hitting him square in the face. he froze for a second, blinking as the fabric slid off his head.

“wrong move, dickhead,” he thought, his heart speeding up just a bit as he noticed the way you were glaring at him, practically daring him to say something else.

without another word, gojo shot up from the bed, all traces of his usual cockiness gone. “okay, okay! i’ll clean it up!” he stammered, frantically bending down to gather the clothes you had thrown at him. he moved faster than he ever did in a fight, scrambling to pick up the scattered mess around the room.

you stood there, arms crossed, watching him with a piercing stare as he scurried around the floor, picking up every last piece of clothing with a nervous energy. the man who faced down curses without blinking an eye was now clearly scared of you.

gojo moved quickly, rushing to pick up all the clothes, his heart pounding the whole time. he had faced down some of the worst curses in the world, fought against overwhelming odds, but this? this was something else entirely.

he could feel your gaze on him, sharp and unwavering, and he knew better than to make any snide comments or try to joke his way out of this. he was in the doghouse, and he knew it. as he finally gathered the last of the clothes into a messy pile, he stood there, glancing up at you, his usual confident demeanor completely vanished before he quickly left the room.

gojo, in his frantic rush to escape the room, accidentally slammed the door behind him with more force than he intended. the loud bang echoed through the hallway, and he froze for a split second, his eyes wide with panic as the realization hit him. “shit.” without wasting another moment, he bolted down the hall, clutching his clothes like his life depended on it.

he raced into the living room, where geto was sitting on the couch, looking far too tense for someone who hadn’t been directly involved. geto had heard everything. every word of the argument had reached him, and he hadn’t dared to intervene—not with you in that mood. he knew better. much better.

when gojo came running in, face pale and eyes wide, geto’s first instinct was to flinch, his muscles tensing even more. gojo practically threw himself at geto, clinging to him like a lifeline, the pile of clothes still in his arms. “suguru, help me! she’s gonna kill me, man. i didn’t mean to slam the door, i swear!”

geto, whose nerves were already frayed from listening to the argument, quickly pushed gojo away, eyes wide with alarm. “fuck off, satoru!” he hissed, scrambling to put some distance between them. “don’t want to be anywhere near you when she starts yelling again. i don’t need to get dragged into this.”

gojo blinked at him, clearly desperate for any sort of support. “but—but you’re supposed to have my back!”

“not when it comes to her,” geto shot back, keeping his voice low in case you were nearby. “do you know how terrifying she is when she’s pissed? no way, man. you’re on your own for this one.“

gojo groaned, his shoulders sagging as he slumped onto the couch beside geto, still clutching the clothes. “come on, suguru. you can’t just leave me to deal with this by myself. we’re in this together, remember?“

before geto could even muster a response, both of them froze at the sound of your heavy footsteps approaching from the hallway. it was slow but deliberate, each step echoing louder than the last. gojo’s eyes widened in panic, and he shot a terrified glance at geto, who was looking equally tense. neither of them dared to move, as if staying perfectly still might make them invisible.

“satoru,” geto whispered, voice barely audible as his eyes darted toward the doorway, “you better hide or something, man. i don’t want to be involved when she gets here.”

“go where?!” gojo hissed back, frantically looking around the living room for some sort of escape route. but there was nowhere to go, no time to run. he was trapped. the footsteps grew louder, and gojo’s heart pounded in his chest. “oh no, oh no, she’s coming…” he muttered under his breath, gripping his clothes tighter.

“this is your fault,” geto whispered harshly, scooting a few inches away from gojo. “you’re the one who pissed her off.“

“satoru…!” your voice called from down the hallway, sharp and unamused. both men stiffened at the sound, knowing that whatever came next wasn’t going to be good. gojo’s face drained of color as he leaned closer to geto, whispering desperately, “don’t leave me, man! i’ll do anything—just don’t let her kill me!”

geto looked at him, weighing his options, but before he could say anything, there you stood, arms crossed, your glare fixed on gojo like a laser. your presence alone filled the room with an intense pressure that made even the strongest sorcerers feel small. “satoru,” you said, your voice dangerously calm, “did you just slammed the door?”

gojo was frozen, his eyes widened like a deer in headlights. he looked back and forth between you and geto, the panic clear on his face. “uh, i...i didn’t mean to,” he squeaked, the clothes clutched tightly in his hands.

geto, watching the scene, leaned back into the couch, trying to make himself as small as possible, avoiding eye contact with you. he knew better than to draw your attention.

you didn’t say anything at first, just raised an eyebrow, and the silence was enough to make both gojo and geto sweat. finally, you spoke again, your voice laced with irritation. “do you want to try that again?”

gojo immediately shook his head, eyes wide with fear. “n-no! absolutely not, babe!” he blurted out, his voice shaky. “i swear, i wouldn’t do that again! it was totally an accident! i didn’t mean to slam the door, i promise!”

he stood there, practically trembling under your glare, clutching his clothes like they were his shield. “i’ll be so careful next time—no more slamming doors. i’ll tiptoe if i have to!” he added, his words tumbling out in a rush as he desperately tried to fix the situation.

geto, who was watching from the couch, subtly leaned back, clearly relieved that gojo was taking the brunt of your anger and praying he wouldn’t get dragged into it.

gojo looked at you with pleading eyes, hoping his quick apology would be enough to cool your anger. “i’ll be good, i swear,” he added, his voice softening, hoping to appeal to your softer side. but your expression remained firm, leaving him to sweat just a little longer, wondering if he'd escaped this round of your wrath—or if he was still in trouble. you slowly nod before walking away back to your shared bedroom without taking your eyes off of him.

gojo let out a shaky breath as you walked away, the silence in the room almost deafening. he stood there, frozen in place, clutching his clothes tightly and wondering if he was really off the hook or if you were just planning something even worse.

geto, who had been watching the scene unfold, let out a sigh of relief, visibly relaxing his tense muscles. “jesus, man,” he whispered, turning to look at gojo. “i don’t know how you do it. i’d be shitting my pants right now if i was in your shoes.”

WHITE TURN PINK

you stormed into the living room, laundry basket in hand, grumbling under your breath. your favorite white button-up shirt was now an embarrassing shade of pale pink, along with almost all the white clothes from the load. it didn’t take long to piece together what happened: one of them had carelessly thrown pink clothes in with the whites.

as you stood in front of gojo and geto, blocking their view of the video game they were so engrossed in, they immediately began to protest. “hey, we were—” gojo started, but the moment they looked up and saw the expression on your face, their words died in their throats.

your eyes were narrowed, and your lips pressed into a thin line. you were pissed, and they could feel the tension hanging in the air like a storm cloud.

“who’s turn was it to do the laundry?” you asked, your voice low but laced with enough irritation to make them both sit up a little straighter. without missing a beat, gojo’s hand shot up, pointing directly at geto. “it was him!” he blurted out, throwing his best friend under the bus without hesitation.

geto’s eyes widened, his head snapping toward gojo in disbelief. “seriously?” he mouthed, glaring at him for the betrayal. but when he turned back to face you, his defiance melted away, replaced with sheer panic as he saw you holding up the now pink shirt.

geto could feel shivers running down his spine, his heart racing at the sight of your anger and the tainted shirt clutched in your hands. he wanted to protest, to deny the accusation that gojo had so shamelessly thrown at him, but one glance at your face told him it was pointless.

he swallowed hard, glancing at gojo who had the gall to give him a shrug and a smirk, as if it wasn’t his fault this had happened. but geto didn’t have time to deal with that right now. right now, he had to survive this. “care to explain this?” you asked, holding up the evidence.

geto could feel the color draining from his face, his mind racing as he desperately tried to come up with a convincing excuse. he shot a glare at gojo, silently vowing to get him back for this later, but right now, he had to handle the wrath of you.

“i...uh...” he stuttered, his voice shaky as he struggled to find the right words.

but before he could say anything more, gojo piped up beside him, clearly enjoying his friend’s predicament. “come on, tell her,"” he teased, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

gojo’s smirk didn’t last long. the second you shifted your glare toward him, your eyes narrowing dangerously, his confidence evaporated. you didn’t have to say a word—the intensity of your stare was enough to make him freeze in place. his lips clamped shut, and he quickly raised his hands in surrender, silently mouthing a “sorry” as he shrank back into the couch.

the teasing look was gone in an instant, replaced with one of sheer regret. gojo knew better than to push you any further when you were this angry. his eyes darted between you and geto, desperately hoping the attention would stay on his best friend and not shift back to him.

the atmosphere in the room was heavy, the tension palpable as both gojo and geto sat there, silent and clearly nervous about your next move.

gojo avoided your gaze, opting to find the most interesting spot on the floor to focus on, all his earlier cockiness gone. he couldn’t believe he’d so effortlessly thrown geto under the bus, and now they were both neck-deep in your wrath. geto, on the other hand, still looked like a deer in headlights, his mind racing as he tried to come up with a satisfactory explanation for the pink shirt.

your gaze slowly shifted back to geto, who visibly tensed under the weight of your stare. you crossed your arms, eyes still sharp as you raised an eyebrow. “well?” you prompted, your voice low but demanding. “explain.”

geto’s heart thudded in his chest, his tongue feeling heavy and clumsy as he tried to form words under your intense scrutiny. he swallowed hard, his mind scrambling to come up with any sort of explanation that might appease you.

“i...i...” he started, his voice cracking slightly. “i just...i didn’t...uh...”

he trailed off, his eyes darting to where gojo sat, silently mouthing, “help me, man!” but gojo only shrugged, unwilling to come to his aid and risk drawing your anger back towards himself.

geto’s throat went dry. his usual calm and collected demeanor was nowhere to be found as he fumbled for words. he could feel the color draining from his face, his mind scrambling for any excuse that wouldn’t make things worse. but there was no escaping this one.

“i—uh…” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “i didn’t realize the pink clothes were mixed in with the whites. it was an honest mistake, i swear.” he glanced over at gojo for a split second, hoping for some kind of lifeline, but gojo was firmly staring at the floor, wisely avoiding your gaze after nearly getting himself in deeper trouble.

“i didn’t mean to ruin your shirt,” geto continued, his voice softening as he gave you a tentative, apologetic look. “i’ll… i’ll fix it. i promise.” you didn’t say anything at first, just continued to glare at him, making him squirm under the silence. geto knew he had messed up, and the longer you stared at him, the more he regretted it.

the silence was deafening, and geto fidgeted nervously, the weight of your glare like a vise around his throat. gojo watched from the corner of his eye, still trying to act casual even as the tension in the room grew.

geto swallowed hard, his mind racing for anything that might soften your anger. “listen, i know i messed up,” he began, his voice dropping to a quiet, contrite tone. “but i swear, i’d never do it on purpose. it was an error, a genuine mistake. it won't happen again.”

“damn right it won’t,” you snapped, crossing your arms. “because you two are redoing the laundry now.” gojo, still sitting stiffly beside geto, looked like he wanted to say something smart but quickly thought better of it. geto, on the other hand, sighed in defeat, clearly knowing there was no getting out of this.

gojo and geto exchanged a glance, both knowing that they had no choice but to follow your command. gojo let out a weary sigh, already dreading the chore ahead, while geto simply nodded in submission.

“yes, ma’am,” geto murmured, rising from the couch. gojo followed suit, reluctantly getting to his feet as well. the two men both looked like puppies that had just been chastised as they trailed after you as you led the way to the laundry room.

with matching groans of reluctance, the two strongest sorcerers in the world—men who had faced countless curses without fear—got up from the couch, heads hanging low, and shuffled toward the laundry room like a pair of scolded children.

as they passed, you shook your head, muttering under your breath, “honestly, how hard is it to separate the colors?” geto shot gojo a sideways glance. “this is your fault,” he hissed, still holding a grudge from being thrown under the bus. gojo shrugged, looking unapologetic. “hey, better you than me, man.”

“you owe me,” geto muttered darkly, glaring at him as they got to work on fixing their laundry disaster, while you stood in the doorway with your arms crossed, making sure they did it right this time.

they both muttered and grumbled under their breath as they sorted through the laundry, each taking their turn to throw in a sarcastic comment.

“you know, for being the strongest, we sure do spend a lot of time sorting socks,” geto grumbled, holding up a black one that had somehow gotten mixed in with the white.

gojo rolled his eyes, grabbing the sock from his friend and dropping it into the correct pile. “well, if you had been more careful—”

“oh shut up, satoru.”

you leaned against the doorway, arms crossed and eyes narrowed as you watched gojo and geto sort through the laundry, their faces set in identical frowns. they muttered to each other under their breath, casting glances in your direction every now and then, clearly miffed about being forced into this chore.

as the two men carefully separated the clothes, making sure to keep the colors apart this time, you couldn’t help but smirk. the sight of them working diligently, like a pair of scolded children, was a sight to see. you can hear them blaming each other. “stop fighting,” you tell them.

they both stop their bickering and look up at you. gojo starts to open his mouth, but you shoot him a warning glare, and he quickly closes it. “we’re not fighting,” geto mutters, continuing to sort through the laundry, careful to avoid any more pink shirts.

gojo rolls his eyes, mumbling something under his breath, but you catch it anyway. “what was that?” you ask sharply, pinning him with a look.

gojo swallows hard, realizing he’s been caught. “nothing,” he mutters sheepishly.

WE HAVE TO STAND FOR OURSELVES

in the kitchen, geto and gojo stood side by side, leaning against the counter, their expressions tense but trying to appear more confident than they actually were. they glanced nervously toward the hallway, making sure you weren’t nearby as they quietly discussed their situation.

“we’re the strongest sorcerers in the world,” gojo muttered, half-convincing himself as much as he was trying to convince geto. “we shouldn’t be scared of her. she’s… she’s just one girl. smaller than us. it’s ridiculous.”

geto nodded, though there was a hint of hesitation in his agreement. “right. we face curses and danger all the time. we can’t let her… you know, terrorize us in our own house. we’re the men in the relationship.”

they had a point. they had faced deadly curses and powerful sorcerers without flinching. but here they were, nervously tip-toeing around their girlfriend like frightened schoolboys.

“absolutely,” gojo continued, trying to sound more confident than he felt. “we can’t let her intimidate us. we’re stronger than her. we’re the strongest.” geto nodded again, though he seemed a bit less sure this time. “we need to show her that we won’t be pushed around... right?”

they both tried to sound resolute, but there was a visible nervousness in their body language—shoulders tense, eyes darting toward the door every few seconds, like they were expecting you to burst in at any moment.

“yeah,” gojo added, his voice lowering as if he didn’t even believe what he was saying. “we can’t let her push us around. i mean, come on. we’re gojo satoru and geto suguru. we shouldn’t be scared of her. right?”

but even as the words left his mouth, the doubt was clear. geto let out a small sigh, nodding but with much less confidence than before. “yeah, totally. we shouldn’t be scared… at all.”

there was a brief pause as both of them exchanged uneasy glances, neither wanting to admit just how much they were actually afraid of upsetting you. their bravado was shaky at best.

the silence stretched on. clearly, both men were starting to panic. they were not used to feeling weak, and to have you—someone they cared about and respected—wielding so much power over them was uncomfortable to say the least.

“so we...we should confront her, right? show her we're not afraid?” gojo asked, more for reassurance than anything else. geto nodded half-heartedly, his own confidence flagging as the thought of facing you head-on filled him with unease.

just as their uncertainty reached its peak, the echo of your footsteps rang through the hallway. they both went still, their eyes wide as they heard you approaching and turned to look at each other in panic. the color drained from their faces, and all the bravado they had been trying to muster moments ago completely evaporated.

you appeared in the hallway, looking nothing like the terrifying figure they had been hyping themselves up to face. instead, you were dressed in your cozy cat printed pajamas, your hair slightly messy, and you looked more like someone ready for a peaceful evening than the source of their terror. you seemed so casual and calm, it was almost comical.

but despite how cute and harmless you looked, the effect on the two strongest sorcerers was instant. when you reached them and stood in front of them, a casual look on your face as you were about to ask what they were up to, they immediately went into panic mode. without a second thought, both men dropped to their knees, their faces showing sheer dread.

“it was all suguru’s idea!” gojo blurted out immediately, throwing his best friend under the bus without hesitation, his eyes wide with fear. he didn’t even give geto a chance to protest before continuing. “he said we should stand up to you, that we’re the strongest sorcerers and shouldn’t be scared. i—I told him it was a bad idea!“

geto glared at gojo, but he was too terrified to defend himself properly. “i—what?! you were the one who said we shouldn’t let her push us around!” he stammered, trying to shift the blame back.

you looked at them, clearly confused by their sudden and dramatic display of fear. your eyebrows knitted together as you took in the sight of gojo and geto kneeling in front of you, their faces pale and their eyes wide with distress. it was such a stark contrast to the usual confident and unflappable demeanor they showed in almost every other situation.

“what is going on with you two?” you asked, your voice laced with confusion. “why are you both on the floor?” you glanced between them, trying to make sense of the chaotic scene before you. the sight of them so unnerved and trying to pass the blame off on each other was bewildering. your calm demeanor and casual attire made the whole situation seem even more surreal.

they both looked up at you, their faces a mixture of fear and shame. gojo opened his mouth to speak, but geto cut him off immediately, wanting to defend himself.

“please, we're sorry,” geto blurted out, his voice quavering slightly. “we were just... uh...”

gojo chimed in, his voice still panicked. “we were just... messing around. yeah, messing around. just having a bit of fun.” they look at you, silently begging for forgiveness and trying hard to hide their previous arrogance.

you looked at them, your expression turning from confusion to genuine puzzlement as you tried to make sense of their frantic apologies and conflicting explanations. “messing around? having fun?” you repeated, clearly unsure of what they were talking about.

“what are you guys even saying?” you asked, crossing your arms and raising an eyebrow. you took a step closer, still trying to understand what could have prompted such an over-the-top reaction. “seriously baby, what’s going on? did i miss something?” your hands softly find their cheek, gently rubbing your thumbs across their skin.

the feeling of your hands on their cheeks was both soothing and embarrassing. they leaned into your touch, their bodies still tense with anxiety.

“we... we were just...” gojo began, his voice cracking slightly. geto cut him off again, clearly not wanting his friend to say anything else that could dig them deeper into trouble.

“it's nothing, really,” he mutters, looking up at you with a mix of guilt and shame. “just a silly argument. we're sorry if we worried you.” their panicked expressions soften slightly as they look up at you, still on their knees. they look so pathetic, and so uncharacteristically vulnerable, that it's almost endearing.

you looked down at them, your expression softening as you saw their vulnerable and somewhat endearing state. a small, amused smile played at the corners of your lips as you reached out to gently stroke their cheeks.

“you two weren't in bed,” you said, your tone light and soothing, “i was looking for you two. i just wanted to see if my boyfriends wanted to cuddle or hang out. i didn’t realize you were having such a… dramatic moment.”

the tension in their bodies seemed to ease at your words and soft touch. they both looked up at you, their eyes full of guilt and embarrassment.

“we, uh...” gojo started, but geto cut him off again.

“we're sorry we didn't notice you looking for us,” he muttered, his voice still laced with shame. “we were just having a... disagreement, and we didn't want to bother you.” they both looked up at you with puppy dog eyes, their faces full of remorse.

seeing the guilt and embarrassment in their eyes, you softened, feeling a wave of affection for them despite their earlier antics. you reached out and gently helped them to their feet, your touch reassuring and comforting.

“come on, baby,” you said, your voice warm as you guided them towards the bedroom.

you could tell they were feeling remorseful, and despite your confusion over their odd behavior, you chose not to press the issue. instead, you opted to show them a different kind of comfort. “let’s just go to bed and cuddle,” you continued, smiling at them, “it’ll be okay.“

as you led them toward the bedroom, gojo’s initial nervousness began to melt away in the warmth of your gentle presence. noticing your obliviousness to the full extent of their earlier antics, he seized the opportunity to return to his usual self, his playful side resurfacing.

“you know,” gojo began, sliding closer to you with a wide, affectionate grin, “i’ve really missed you today.” he snuggled up to you, his usual playful demeanor coming back full force. “it’s like, you’re the best part of my day, and i’ve been counting the minutes until we could be like this again.”

geto, feeling the shift in gojo’s mood, couldn’t help but smirk slightly at the change. he followed suit, wrapping an arm around you as you all made your way to the bedroom. “yeah, what toru said,” he added with a softer smile “we definitely missed you.“

behind the closed door, the three of you entered the bedroom, where the soft, dim lighting created a cozy and comforting atmosphere. as you led them both toward the bed, gojo began to shed his shirt, the fabric slipping off his toned body with an air of nonchalance.

“you know,” he stated casually, “i think a cuddle session is exactly what we need right now.” he tossed his shirt aside, not even bothering to see where it landed as he flopped down onto the bed.

geto followed suit, tossing his shirt and pants aside as well before joining gojo on the bed. “definitely,” he agreed, resting his head on the pillow. “i could use a good cuddle right now. it’s been a long day, after all.”

both men looked up at you expectantly, their eyes full of a mix of affection and mischief. they patted the space between them, silently inviting you to join the snuggle puddle.

“come here,” gojo said, his voice low and warm.

as you complied with their silent invitation, snuggling in between them, gojo wasted no time in wrapping his arms around you, pulling you closer against his bare chest. geto did the same, snuggling up against your back and molding his body to yours. his hand lightly caressed your arm, the touch tender and intimate.

“this is nice,” gojo murmured, burying his face into your hair. “i love having you here like this.”

the warmth of their bodies against yours was like a small, comfortable sanctuary. gojo’s arms were wrapped securely around you, his bare chest pressed against your back. geto was curled up behind you, his body molding to yours like two puzzle pieces fitting perfectly together.

“it’s perfect,” geto agreed, his voice soft and muffled as he nuzzled into your hair. “having you here with us like this just makes everything feel right in the world.” gojo hummed in agreement, his fingers tracing lazy patterns across your skin. “absolutely,” he said, his eyes closing in contentment.

for a few moments, none of you spoke, the only sound was the soft rustle of sheets and the steady beat of everyone's hearts. then, gojo spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper. “can i tell you something, baby?”

you hum softly, still buried your face on his chest.

gojo's fingers continued to caress your skin as he gathered his thoughts. he was quiet for a few moments before he finally spoke, his voice soft and serious.

“you know we care about you more than anything, right?” he asked, his hand moving to gently tilt your chin up so that you were looking at him. “more than anything in the entire world.” geto, sensing the sincerity in gojo’s words, moved in close on your other side, his arm wrapping tighter around you. “he’s right,” he muttered. “you mean the world to us.”

you felt a swell of warmth at their heartfelt words. you looked up at gojo, his gaze soft and sincere, and then turned to meet geto’s equally genuine eyes. your heart ached with affection for them both.

“i know,” you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper. the emotions were almost overwhelming. you tightened your grip around gojo’s waist, pulling him closer, and then reached out to draw geto nearer to you as well.

gojo and geto both responded instantly to your wordless gesture, their bodies drawing closer as if magnetized to yours. gojo pulled you impossibly close to him, his arms embracing you like a vice, while geto pressed himself against your back, completing the cozy little sandwich.

gojo pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a few seconds before he spoke again, his voice still soft but with a hint of a smirk. “we just... we want to make sure you feel loved and safe, always.”

geto’s chin rested on your shoulder, and he added his own gentle kisses to your neck and face. his hands stroked your arms soothingly, his touch tender and affectionate.

“always,” he echoed gojo’s sentiment, his voice low and earnest, “you matter so much to us, baby.” gojo’s chest vibrated slightly as he hummed, his fingers trailing lightly over your skin, sending shivers of pleasure down your spine.

“we’d do anything for you,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

you let out a contented sigh, feeling the weight of their embrace and the tenderness of gojo’s kiss on your forehead. the warmth of their bodies pressed against you was incredibly comforting, and you closed your eyes for a moment to fully appreciate the feeling.

“i feel safe,” you murmured, your voice soft and sincere, “i always feel safe with you two, more than with anyone else. each time you cuddle me, it’s like my brain just turns off. i get so comfortable that i could fall asleep in seconds.”

you nestled even closer into their arms, savoring the sense of security and peace they provided. their combined presence was like a soothing balm, washing away any lingering worries or stress. in their embrace, you felt completely at ease, and the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the gentle comfort of their love.

gojo and geto both tightened their hold on you even more as you spoke, their bodies pressing against yours like an impenetrable wall of warmth and affection. the knowledge that you felt safe and secure with them, that their presence could turn off your worries and calm your mind, filled their chests with a deep sense of contentment.

“good,” geto murmured against your neck. “that's exactly how it should be.”

gojo nuzzled against your hair, his arms wrapping impossibly tighter around you. “you should always feel like this,” he said, “like nothing in the world can touch you.”

as the three of you continued to snuggle, geto’s hand began tracing gentle patterns up and down your arm, his touch soothing and rhythmic.

“we would do anything to make sure you feel this way,” he said softly. “you deserve nothing less than happiness and comfort.” gojo leaned down slightly to press another gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering on your skin for a few moments before he spoke again.

“always, baby... always.”

you intertwine your free hand with geto’s, feeling his fingers gently intertwine with yours. with your other hand, you caressed gojo’s bare waist, enjoying the warmth and closeness of him.

as you felt their soothing touches and heard their comforting words, you closed your eyes, already starting to drift off. “i’m so grateful for you both,” you murmured softly, your voice barely audible. “thank you for being in my life.”

gojo and geto both held you tighter as you intertwined your fingers with geto’s and rested your palm on gojo’s waist. the simple touch was like the final piece of a puzzle falling into place, completing the circle of love and affection that surrounded you.

their hearts swelled with emotion at your words, and they both responded in unison, their voices low and soothing. “we’re the grateful ones, sweetheart,” gojo spoke up. “we should be thanking you for bringing us into your life,” geto continued, his voice warm and gentle.

you felt their embrace tighten around you, the simple touches of intertwined fingers and a warm palm on gojo’s waist completing the circle of love and affection. their words filled the space around you, wrapping you in a cocoon of emotional warmth.

as their voices melded into a soothing, harmonious backdrop, you drifted further into the comfort they provided. the gentle rise and fall of their breaths and the steady rhythm of their heartbeats guided you toward sleep.

you didn't have the chance to respond, as the comfort of their presence and their heartfelt words lulled you into a deep, peaceful slumber.

gojo and geto each felt a sense of deep contentment wash over them as they heard your breaths become slower and more even, signaling your descent into sleep. they held you close, their embraces protective and affectionate.

they watched over you as you slept, their gazes full of admiration and love. they continued to whisper soft, soothing words and gentle touches, ensuring you slept undisturbed and surrounded by their love.

“sweet dreams, baby,” gojo said quietly, his lips brushing your forehead. geto echoed his sentiment, his hand gently running through your hair. “we love you so much.”

the room was filled with a peaceful, quiet atmosphere, punctuated only by the occasional rustle of sheets and the soft rhythm of their breaths. gojo and geto were completely engrossed in their silent vigil, their senses fully attuned to you and your every movement.

slowly, the dawn began to break, casting a soft, morning glow into the room. it caught the edges of gojo’s silver hair and geto’s dark locks, creating a soft, halo-like effect around their heads.

[abyssyby]

where shadows rest

— he’s sorry. it happens again. you tell him to count his days. he does. every single one.

ʕ ꈍᴥꈍʔ: part 2 to the blanket war! a lover, yes very much so, but sylus is also a formidable opponent. and a grump when you spoil his games. enjoy! ❀-urs

sylus x reader | more fluff, overdramatic!reader, overdramatic!sylus, evening grumpies & morning cuddles ++ some suggestive intimate touching

He’s sorry. 

He’s sorry, he said, and like a fool, you believed it would never happen again. But he never said it wouldn’t did he? He said other things— more with his body than his words that day— but the promise of never making that mistake again was egregiously omitted from that… conversation.

You wake in his arms once more, head on his bicep, his bottom lip resting just at your hairline. His breath coming out in puffs through his nose, tickling the baby hairs on the top of your head. 

You press forward, seeking more of his warmth. Preferring it today over the sun’s. He reacts accordingly, crowding you closer to his chest and relaxing against your body even more. 

You remember this time. Hazy, but the resentment is there. Heavy evidence rests in his phone, awaiting his discovery, and you seethe in silence until then. Or at least you try to, specially when he starts to stir. Starts to run his fingers up and down your spine. Putty under his hands. No better than the tendrils of smoke he commands with his power. 

He asks, “What did I do?” and you’re caught off guard at the heaviness in his tone. Aside from the ragged texture and the deeper than usual timbre of his voice, he sounds so disturbed that he’d upset you this early. 

You almost don’t mention it. You stall, though. “How did you…?” 

“You aren’t kissing me.” he murmurs, sleep laden and heavy as cold oil. Heated fingerprints leave shivering gooseflesh in their wake as they trickle down your arm to grasp your hand. Your palm is guided to his neck, across like he’s cutting through. “Your usual appetite is… suppressed. I can only assume it’s my doing.”  

A kiss is placed on his adam’s apple to appease him. To prove his smartass wrong. He only chuckles and shakes his head, “Talk to me, angel.” 

“I don’t remember.” you half-lie. Your midnight excursions are usually forgotten by morning, hence why you send the videos. The irritation never follows you past sunrise, and he’s left unscathed no matter how atrocious (not really) his actions against you were. 

His foot glides up between your ankles, his knee between your thighs. You yelp at the contact, and his brows raise. “I get it.” he drawls.

Through gritted teeth, you hiss, “What?” 

“I’ve done it again.” he sighs, though he doesn’t sound too disappointed in himself. Before you can push more, he stretches his arm back to the nightstand to grab his phone. Through heavy-lidded eyes, he scrolls to your messages and—as expected— a barrage of verbally abusive texts greet him.

Beloved: SULUS!!!nN I fant belive u ??  ill haev ur head!!

“See.” he murmurs against the back of your head, the sound resonating in your skull. You’ve turned to face his phone as well, back to his chest to see. The video plays when he’s blinked the sleep away.

You’re there again, of course, who else could it be. The menace that you are, a gremlin in his goddess divine’s body. Sleep mused hair, his button-up shirt hanging off one shoulder, disoriented and bleary eyed, trying your hardest to squint through the harsh flash of the front camera. 

“Sylus!” you whisper through gritted teeth. Behind you, he’s splayed out on the bed, starfished with the corners of the blanket so meticulously tucked beneath his large body. 

You say nothing else when your circle him with the camera facing you, too distressed to flip the point of view. The front camera would face him every few times when you’re tugging at the edges, and fully when you set it down on the nightstand to yank hard on the edge under his feet. “Are you kidding me?” 

You don’t recall this part present time, but you crawl on top of him and splay out your body on his back, lips to his ear. The microphone catches the faintest of whispers of: “Sylus, the blanket.” “Sylus, sylus, please. It’s so cold.” 

Which he answers with: “I love you.” and “Come here” but he makes no movement to let you in. 

Your final action on him is to ruffle his hair and slap his shoulder— he groans, “oww.” 

You take the camera again, furious now, and point to it— to him. “Count your days!” 

And he’s chuckling again. You should be proud that you make him laugh so easily, the cynic he is. 

The pillow you grip to throw at his head is pinned to the bed with his hand, preventing the attack from happening. “Ah-ah,” he chides. “We’ve done that before.”

“Oh, so you’re not a fan of reruns?” you scoff.

He beams, fully awake now. Admiring your fire that rivals the sky’s so early in his day. “I’m a fan of these videos, if that’s what you’re asking. It’s like a morning report.” 

A different tactic then, you aim your fingers to his sides and he twitches as if he’d been electrocuted. 

“Not enough riches to take for yourself, so you take—” You bite back a grin as he yelps, a delightful sound. “—my half!” 

He’s giggly again. And you love it, you love him so much, he’s just so annoying. Fingers intertwine with yours in an effort to sedate your poking, hating this more than the pillow whacking. “How else am I going to get my favorite show on?”

“My suffering is entertainment?!” you shriek, climbing him to get leverage— he loves this part, really— and wrestling his arms back with all your might. 

“Everything you do is amusing to me,” he grins, a challenge. A push towards the edge. He finds the satisfaction at the twisted emotion on your face, and slackens his arms. The force of your own strength snaps you to his chest while your arms are incapacitated by his own pinning them to your sides in a bear hug. 

And again, because he is, he kisses your bottom lip. “I’m sorry.” 

But this time, you hmph indignantly and he is forced (delighted) to make it up to you in more convincing ways. 

𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

The flash is your friend at this point. Pupils dilated in the dark shrink as the light emerges from your phone. If you were on the same side, you’d say you’d look like a cave diver. He’d say, “What’s a cave diver?” 

“Night three.” You mutter tiredly, in bed this time, on your side. Like you’d just reached out to your nightstand without a second thought. 

You are shivering, curled in on yourself like a helpless animal in the throes of winter. Your back is pressed against the hunk of a man that is Sylus, warm inside his insulated cannoli. 

You sigh, turning to face the giant worm the love of your life has metamorphosed into overnight. “Your promises are empty, your love isn’t real.” You spit, but the tone in your voice doesn’t match the venom of your words. 

“I—“ you gasp, mid-monologue and the camera is jostled. The creature bests you, and in an instant you are engulfed by more than just the warmth of your missing blanket. 

The camera falls conveniently on you pillow, at an angle that catches you in the corner of the video in a headlock. Sylus’s bicep secure around your chest, your chin rests in the crook of his elbow and his hair overwhelms half your face. 

His lips brush your neck when he speaks, low and half-conscious. “M’sorry.” 

And you’re gone. 

The phone falls. The video auto-sends as soon as the time limit is up, and it catches you drifting off to sleep in his embrace.

𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

It’s a game when on the morning of night three, you receive a video at work. 

Sy (Fruit Ltd. Co. Intl.): Whats this now…? 

Glancing around, you stuff your ear pieces in to watch it. The contact name change from "my love" to what popped up on your phone in broad daylight is handy when he does this. Annoying, but you can't stop the flutter of your heart when he sends you texts out of the blue to remind you he thinks about you.

When the coast is clear, the video plays. 

“Morning three hundred seventy-nine.” his voice like burning gravel rings in your ears. His one eye is open while the right still struggles to in the dim light. 

He extends his arm, zooming out of his face and ushering in the image of your own sleeping figure, slope of your nose pressed into the muscles of his neck and fingers clasped on his shirt. 

“Consorting with the enemy, sweetie? That’s not very righteous of you.” cocky. he sounds so cocky you want to punch him in the mouth (with your mouth). 

He brushes the hair from your face and kisses your forehead. “I am counting my days.”

The video ends just as you hear yourself say, “huh?”

You text back,

Beloved: BLOCKED. 

𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

Footsteps around his bedroom are as melodic as the vinyls on his record player. Sylus listens as they keep a steady beat, stutter, shuffle and go fast, hesitate and go slow. Your soft voice talking yourself through your routine accompanies the beat as a soft melody.

His eyes skim over the book he reads, but his senses are attuned to you. Finally, when you finish your pre-bed routine, you return to his side. Where you belong. 

Captivated by the narrative he was reading, he trusts you to slip into your place under his arm on your own so he can feel your weight on his side and follow the cycle of your breathing with his own.

But this time you take an extra step at fixing something by your pillow. And he is a creature of habit. Curious, he peeks, and scowls at what he sees. “What is that?” 

You startle at the harsh tone. “It’s for emergencies.”

The book slams shut. He’s turning to face you fully now. Disgust drips off the word. “Emergencies?” 

“I can’t keep waking you when you hog,” your shrug. it wasnt practical at all, to keep blowing up such a non-issue.

“Yes you can.” he says. And when you don’t look at him, he bends at the waist to reach you. He takes your chin in his fingers and turns your face to him— to see him being sincere. Softly, he states, “Beloved, you can.” 

But you cant. He’s just getting into the groove of a normal circadian rhythm and thats all youve ever wanted from him. Already, the darkness beneath his eyes have reduced thanks to… well, you. “It’s okay, Sylus.” 

And like a child, like a cat, like a grumpy, spoiled, crime syndicate, he grabs the blanket and throws it behind him. Off the bed. Away from you. You blink at his petulance.

“Sylus!” 

Arms tackle you to the bed, one hand supporting your head and neck— careful of being too rough. He grumbles something incoherent, loose sounds of disapproval and irritation seeping through. “Separate blankets— on my bed? our bed?— don’t need that— what’s wrong with your head?” 

Half of his body is enough to render you motionless as he pulls the covers over you both and shuts the lights off with his evol. He presumes his position as big spoon, burying his nose behind your ear and murmuring a grumpy “Goodnight.” 

You giggle in the silence when all is said and done, and turn to kiss whatever part of him you can reach from your benumbed state. 

He doesn’t hog that night. In fact, doesn’t even let go.

A warm furnace in his own right. You drown in affection… and your own sweat. Who would have guessed that contingency measures would finally bring an end your cold wars— at least for the foreseeable future.

𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ more sylus thoughts ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

thank you for reading!

[drgnflyteabox]

red ochre [5]

series masterlist previous || part five -> kermes || part six -> madder

> summary: big nun, little nun > tags/warnings: guilt, religious / moral turmoil, stockholm syndrome, child abuse (past), scars, simon returns, corruption (past), misogyny (past), whipping (past), blood, suffering (past mostly), power imbalance, freeze response (past), guilt, dissociation, dom/sub dynamics, we're learning consent (kinda? eeh), violent imagery, dubcon/noncon, vaginal fingering, choking, throat grab

When Johnny asks how it felt to go from there – the convent, you think he means – to here, you can only describe it as dunking your hands into ice water. 

Shocking, painful, and prickling all over.

He only says hm, and moves on. His face is pensive. You don’t tell him that sometimes, you wake up and aren’t in the water anymore.

Even in prayer, you hadn’t thought as much as you had since you’d been taken. Hadn’t worried as much. Teachings from adults since youth had told you that everybody was inherently sinful, even children.

So why is the community around you so happy without God? They have their own, you know this, but the multitude of them and their roles in divine hierarchy aren’t necessarily about absolute power.

There are woman-Gods, Gods without designations, Gods for the earth and the children and unions between people. You find it hard to continue calling them heretics, devils, when they’re really just people. Different, yes, strange and incomprehensible, but people nonetheless.

Heathens, you try to think. Heathens, devils. They took you

You wonder when the last time you thought of yourself as just a person was, when you weren’t a thing set within a rigid mold, beaten down in more ways than one.

On the eve of Simon's return you catch Johnny doing something secretive. He's hunched over the table, the tip of his tongue stuck out of his mouth in concentration. The soft sound of scraping, of wood gently knocking is all you can hear over the fire.

“What's that?” you ask, when your curiosity gets the best of you.

Johnny turns, one eye squinted, the every picture of concentration. He holds up a carved figure – a woman, it looks like. Ah, it’s you. Though hard to tell, the woman wears a veil and sits on a chair, hunched.

Your veil. You’d nearly forgotten what it felt like. It used to be a weight, heavy and pressing, a shackle. Now you miss the safety of not feeling so exposed all the time.

Somewhere in the journey here it had been lost, or maybe thrown overboard. Your habit, too, replaced for the woolen Viking-style dresses bought and bartered for by Simon and Johnny. Even you have to admit you enjoy the colours more, even if the conformity of the convent felt safe.

“How long were you watching me?” you breathe, eyes wide and still staring.

“Not long, lamb,” he smiles disarmingly. “Ah just remember ye, sittin’ pretty.”

“Working on the tapestry,” you correct him, though it doesn’t really matter.

He looks back down to his little figure, pensive.

“Ah guess so,” he says jovially.

“It was my punishment,” you add. This probably matters even less, but the clash of worlds has thrown you off balance. You feel unbearably present, unbearably lucid.

I was a nun, you think. Am I still a nun?

“Punishment?” he frowns. “Ah thought they struck ye?”

“Sometimes. But sometimes I had to work extra hard.”

“Like a bairn?”

“A what?”

“A child, lamb,” he smiles again.

You look into the fire, thinking. Punishment applied to everyone, not just children, no? Even Simon and Johnny had punished you. But who had given them the right? Had you, with your secret want? Your secret lustful sin?

“You punished me,” you settle on.

“Aye, we did,” he nods. “Ye needed it.”

“Then why do you… ah, disparage the church for doing the same?”

He turns to you.

“Ah think ye got it all wrong,” he says simply. “We don’t give it to ye to make ye hurt. Aren’t ye better after? Righted?”

Righted. That’s a word worth its weight in gold. As is the truth of his words, but you stay quiet and look into the fire instead of responding.

You take up Johnny’s offer to spend time with Kari. Johnny walks you there, holds your hand in the cold and blows hot air on them as you wait together outside their door.

When Gaz opens it, he hoots and hollers as if the frigid air outside has no effect on him, as if his inner warmth and naturally excitable disposition is no match for the cold.

You have to admire that. At least a little.

“Hi there,” Gaz says to you, a greeting softer than the one he gave Johnny.

“Hello,” you try to subtly peek inside, “it’s… nice to see you.”

He doesn’t take offence to your awkward, stilted attempt at politeness. Maybe he knows you’re not quite comfortable here, to put it lightly, and only claps your shoulder gently to pull you in.

“Have fun!” Johnny shouts, already leaving, “and give me my wife back in one piece!”

That makes you sheepish, but you try to ignore your feelings in favour of moving towards Kari and the little baby, Tyra.

“Hello again,” she greets, smiling. The baby stares at you, babbles ceasing as if she’s seeing you for the first time. Her little head swings towards her mother, hiding despite her clear curiosity.

“You’ve met me before,” you say softly, trying valiantly not to frighten her as you take a seat opposite to Kari.

“She’s feeling shy lately,” Kari looks down and tuts, swiping a thumb over Tyra’s chubby cheek, “needs her mama.”

Weaving here is not much different than weaving at the convent. Once you get the basics down, you’re threading dyed wool into cloth astride Kari.

Some spirit of confidence grips you.

“Will you tell me anything about Simon and Johnny?”

“About-” she lifts her head, “Simon and Johnny? Don’t they speak to you?”

“They - do,” you rush to assure her, though your voice maintains a weary unsureness.

Luckily for you, she gives you a small but comforting smile over the wool.

“You’re looking for an outside opinion? That’s okay, lovely girl, I just might not know as much about them as my husband does,” she gestures with her chin towards Gaz, who walks towards you both.

“What d’you need to know?” he asks casually, sidling up to Kari affectionately, “think they’ll be able to answer better than me.”

“I only really know… what I’ve seen. I haven’t…” your mouth twists as you trail off, frustration germinating as you struggle. Right, you can commit sins of the flesh but you can’t ask a question to sate curiosity — one which might be the difference between surviving and not surviving.

Knowledge is important, after all. Powerful. You think of Eve, who doomed humanity for it, naked as the day she was born and as clueless as Adam yet ate the apple anyway.

“I know they’re… warriors,” you pause, “since they’re all scarred, but—“

“Well, not necessarily—” Kari starts, until Gaz puts a palm on her thigh and gives her a look you can’t discern. 

“That’s not something we should share,” Gaz says tightly, but kindly.

“How else..?” you frown.

Tyra stirs, and Kari gives Gaz another look.

“Simon’s father used to be chief,” she lifts the babe back into her lap, patting, cooing, “it’s not a nice story, but if you need it to understand them better then I don’t mind telling it.”

“I want to know about them,” you insist, trying to push past the sense of danger, the sense that you’ll be hurt or killed for toeing out of line.

Testing the elasticity of safety here perhaps isn’t wise, but testing it might be what you need to settle. Knowing where the boundaries are, what’s expected, where they come from… you wonder if you’ll doom everybody, like Eve.

“Believe it or don’t, but we’ve only just rekindled the hunts, the raids. How it should be,” she starts.

Gaz sighs, leaning back where he’s sitting. You assume his hesitance is out of loyalty for his comrades, but you choose tentatively to ignore him in favour of his wife.

“We had a lazy, drunken leader,” Kari continues, “Simon’s father inherited the title through lineage, not through prowess as is… more natural to us.”

You nod slowly, trying to imagine. In the church, such things were often gained with corruption: any wealthy lords’ son could rise high in the ranks, if he had the money and means.

The convent had somewhat of a similar issue, though the women were ‘married’ into the church and the power rested in the hands of their families. 

Such was the world.

Not always, but you’d heard of it often enough. One of the abbots of the monastery in the closest town had been the son of an affluent donator, and thus received power of authority over the other monks.

“To make a long story short, and more respectful to Simon—” Gaz looks at her then “—his father was needlessly cruel both to his own children, his wife, and to those he was responsible for.”

“So, those scars…?”

“Some are from fighting, of course. But usually, no one’s getting close enough to those two to land that kind of damage. I’m sure you can fill in the rest.”

Gaz butts in here,  “or, you can ask him yourself.”

“How did that woman, I forgot her name, come to be chief?” you frown in thought.

Gaz takes over again, his hand dragging up from the small of his wife's back and squeezing her nape. It’s as much of a warning as you’ve seen, though it’s quiet and Kari looks sheepish, not afraid, “Kate challenged him.”

“A challenge?” you frown, “such as?”

“A fight to the death.”

“Oh,” your lips close, and thin, and your eyebrows fly up. “I didn’t realize… I mean, violence is…”

They don’t do you the courtesy of filling in for you, so you go silent and the air settles.

Johnny picks you up later, when you’ve helped Kari with a big portion of her weaving. You love the threads, the dyeing process. It’s meditative.

“Good ?” Johnny nudges your side, slipping a hand to just above your waist, fingers tickling the side of your breast.

“Yes,” and it’s honest.

He walks you home, hand in hand, and cannot stop talking about Simon's return.

“Ah’ve never been without him this long,” he rambles over the fire, stirring a potato soup, “think yer gonnae be witness to something dirty. Sorry, lamb.”

Only he’s grinning, and he’s not sorry, and you can see the front of his pants begin to tent.

Johnny later offers you that very same sin, tilting his hips towards you and swinging his cock obscenely, cheekily. You do not take him up on it despite the smolder that begins between your legs – you simply turn, and try to sleep through the sounds of his self-abuse.

Simon returns without much fanfare, slipping into the house with a seemingly practiced silence. He moves like a ghost.

Johnny doesn't wake yet, sleeping like an affectionate log behind you.

His gaze meets yours, as impassive as always, framed in a halo of white winter light. He looks handsome this way, though it also has the effect of making his scars look deeper – crevasses on his face for shadows to lay in.

You watch as he strips his winter garments, slipping then beside you, evening out the weight on the bed.

“How did it go?” you whisper. If he's surprised that you spoke he doesn't show it, staring up at the ceiling, muscles decompressing. Sighing like a big dog.

In lieu of speaking, he lifts something into your focus. Oh, it's a tooth, sharp and white. A predator's tooth.

“The rest tomorrow,” he says quietly.

You can tell he's tired. His face looks weary. How far do they travel for these hunts? You assume quite far, as it’s enough to tire even a seasoned warrior.

So, rather than speaking, asking him from which creature he took this tooth, you tentatively reach your hand up to press your fingers against his thick scars.

Simon freezes, as do you. Then, as he relaxes, you trace the grooves on his face with your fingers tightly. Very lightly.

A delicate moment is born then. Johnny's deep, sleepy breathing behind you, Simon's acquiescence – it's a tranquil thing. As thin as lace, as sweet as a crisp apple.

After some time, when you've traced his face twice over and his eyes are half-lidded, you speak softly.

“Why me?”

“You're beautiful,” he says simply, sighing again, “we wanted to.”

It becomes harder, again, to hold the belief of them as devils. That they smelled the sin on you and picked you that way.

“Don't you think it's cruel?”

“No,” finally, he turns to you.

“It was,” you assert recklessly. Fear twists in your gut, poisonous.

“You were scared.”

“Yes.”

“Are you still scared?”

“I feel like you can see right through me. That scares me.”

“Not at first.”

“Then when?”

His hand finds the dip of your waist. Squeezes.

“On the boat, when you pushed up against me like a wet kitten. Even scared, you needed it.”

“You were cruel to me then, too.”

“I’m a cruel man.”

There's a stray thought that wiggles to life in the back of your head that suggests sympathy for him despite his statement. That you can begin seeing the path of his life and understand how he came to be.

You think of punishment again; about parents and children, husband's and wives, about Simon and his father. That wasn't punishment, if you're understanding it the way Kari implied.

A memory strikes you, unbidden and unwelcome. 

Salt blows in the air,  metallic and thick in your nose. Not sea salt, not the wind you love so much, but from blood spraying. 

The man brought his son to the convent, citing his bad behaviour as ungodly. Sister Margret was pleading with him, hands clasped in desperate prayer and voice high, reedy, as she begged him to just stop hitting him – please, just stop hitting him!

The boy cowered. Not a child, but a boy nonetheless. Young enough to make an impression, round-cheeked, on the cusp of manhood. Stained with blood.

He lifted the rope, again and again and again, even as Margret leapt for his arm and tried to stop him, pulling, shouting.

You were stock still, frozen, not even a tremble in your body. Your eyes had widened when he first struck the boy and you’d been stuck since.

Simon takes your hand, peels it away from your dress, pulling you bodily towards him and out of the memory.

With your cheek pressed close to his bare shoulder, you murmur, “did you take me to hurt me?”

“No,” he says, sounding for once like he isn’t hiding anything.

“Did you hit me to really hurt me?”

“No,” he repeats, then, “I hit you because you needed it, because you liked it.”

“I’ve seen…” you don’t continue.

“I know.”

“We’ve both been hurt,” your voice is a whisper.

“Mm,” Simon confirms.

You think of the boy. Of his father. Of his terrified, deer-like eyes, blood splattered on his back and on the ground and soaked into the rope – about how four townsmen had to pull his father away for fear of killing the boy.

How you felt when you hit yourself, when the abbess hit you, how different they were to when Simon took his palm to your ass.

Shame. That had been in the boy's eyes that day. He had hid his face in his arms, cowering not only from fear but from being seen.

You’d felt that same shame each time you’d been punished, intensifying, twisting together until you’d learned to turn the same pain inwards.

 “Are you afraid of being seen?” you murmur to Simon.

“No.”

You don’t have to say the silent part; that you’re the afraid one. That Simon correctly interpreting your need for a different kind of control, one that let you lose yourself, felt like you’d been flayed for all to see.

Simon moves his hand lower, cupping the soft curve of your behind, staring at you, testing the waters. You know that if you said no, he might anyways, but you stay quiet as his fingers lift the hem of your dress.

The fabric slides over your skin, a whisper in the air, tickling you. He rubs his rough, hairy knuckles against your thigh close to where it meets your leg.

He pauses there, breathing slowly, before he slides a finger up your slit and through the thatch of hair above it.

“If I made a request,” you murmured, “would you grant it?”

“Make it, and I’ll tell you.”

He slips a finger to rub your hole, just outside, teasing, while his thumb finds your clit.

“I don’t want you to take me until we’re man and wife… men and wife.”

Simon hums, rubs gently, makes your hips undulate.

“Do you think you’re in a place to be making requests like that, love?”

“I haven’t asked for anything else.”

He raises a brow, sliding his finger inside you to the knuckle when you’re wet enough.

“Haven’t you?”

Your breathing deepens, hands coming down to hold his thick wrist, pulling almost subconsciously. Even now, you can’t totally let go, leaning away from him and the pleasure.

But he understands, leaning over you, using his other hand to pin you to the mattress by your throat. It’s not the nicest hold, but the burning of your lungs heightens the pulsing in your cunt.

“Think you just made a few requests right now,” he grunts, using your leg to rub his hard, clothed cock.

There’s a stirring beside you. Johnny groans as he wakes up, then laughs sleepily.

“Ah woke up just in time,” his voice is rough with sleep.

Simon hums, mmm, in that deep rumble of his. He slips another finger inside you, crooking them, making you gasp raggedly. Your hands still clutch his wrist, weaker now, but it’s half resistance half comfort.

“Mm, good girl,” Johnny murmurs. He curls into your side, cock growing against your hip, wrapping a leg around you while his hand climbs beneath your pulled up dress and palms your tit.

God, you could die just like this: fighting for breath, touched all over, held down and made free. The hate you had for them feels irrelevant, the fear, the brutal way in which they stole you.

You can’t even think about if Simon will disregard your request – your last frontier against them, the treasure between your legs for a husband only.

Simon’s knuckle deep in it, but still, you can’t let go of that final tether. Not yet, not without any other internal pillars to hold you up.

Everything else has been wiped away. Drawings in the sand on a beach swept by foamy white waves.

Johnny leans in and bites your shoulder, gnawing, hips moving against you. You can’t arch like you want to, but you try.

Wet, sinful sounds grow as you gush around Simon’s fingers, as they use you to get off.

When you peak, white spots dance in your vision, mouth open in a silent scream choked away by Simon's heavy palm.

It’s like flying.

In the afternoon, when you’ve all slept, Simon leaves to speak with John and you prepare lunch with Johnny.

More fish, more potatoes. It’s growing on you.

When Simon returns, he has in his arms a rolled up fur. Though unprocessed and still wet underneath, it’s beautiful, pale, spotted.

He takes a heavy seat in front of you, laying the skin over his knees, taking your hand in his and bringing it to the fur.

Soft. Dense. Your fingers move through the pelt.

“For you,” Simon says.

You look up at him, heart dancing.

His gifts. The apple, the orgasms, this– you don’t know what to make of it. Yes, it’s a kindness, but he’s a cruel man. He’d said so himself, and you’d felt the brunt of it.

Leaning into that cruelty has given you a strange power, a strange solidity. You’d so begun to familiarize yourself with his harshness that you’d forgotten this complexity.

You pinch the fur, feeling it between your fingers, breathing slowly. Your neck ached, but it wasn’t a bad ache; it felt like a phantom hand.

“For me?”

Johnny slides three bowls on the table, grinning.

“Yer first wedding gift,” he says jovially.

 “Oh, I see,” you murmur, but it isn’t a disappointed oh.

Simon leaves later again, full of soup, to process the rest of the hunt’s boon with John. He takes the pelt with him, a snowcat pelt you’ve learned.

Yet, he’d returned with not much more than scratches on him from travel. Tired, yes, but a few hours of sleep and splattering his spend on your belly had fixed that earlier.

You’d bathed, since, though the feeling was hard to shake.

Johnny putters about again, returning to his carving of the little mini you. A peek into the past, one you no longer embodied.

“Can I see when you’re done?” you ask, slipping your favourite wool dress on. The red, well worn one. Soft, comforting. 

“Course,” he mumbles, concentrating. Then, his head shoots up.

“Ye want one o’ Simon ‘n’ I, lamb? Carry us around?” Only it sounds like aroond.

You nod, walking on socked feet to where he’s carving.

“Yes.”

[hazzashouse]

The Weight of a Name PART I

Author’s Note: This was my first attempt at writing for Anthony Bridgerton, and I loved delving into his intensity and passion. I’m considering writing a part two—let me know if you’d like to see where this story goes!

Triggers: Emotional confrontation, feelings of rejection, societal pressure

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1,703

Summary: When Anthony Bridgerton’s relentless pursuit of you reaches its breaking point, a fiery confrontation reveals the depths of his feelings.

PART TWO: here

The soft hum of violins and lilting laughter echoed throughout the ballroom. It was a scene of perfection, one carefully orchestrated by the host to impress even the most critical members of the ton. You moved with grace, your every step measured and deliberate, but your mind was far from composed.

Anthony Bridgerton was watching you.

You had felt his eyes on you all evening, and no matter how hard you tried to shake the weight of his gaze, it lingered. It wasn’t just that he watched—it was the way he looked at you. As if he already had you. As if his claim was inevitable.

But Anthony Bridgerton wasn’t the kind of man you trusted easily. His reputation was whispered about behind fans and through veiled glances. He was handsome, yes, and powerful, but he was also dangerous. The stories of his past were enough to make even the boldest debutantes wary.

You had no intention of falling for a man like him.

————————

Later that evening, you had sought refuge on the balcony, eager for a moment of quiet. The cool air kissed your skin as you inhaled deeply, savoring the temporary escape. But your peace was short-lived.

“You’re avoiding me.”

The low, irritated voice made you stiffen. You turned to find Anthony standing just beyond the balcony doors, his jaw set and his dark eyes locked on you.

“I wasn’t aware I was obligated to seek you out,” you replied evenly, though your voice betrayed a hint of exasperation.

Anthony stepped closer, his movements deliberate. “You know precisely what I mean,” he said, his tone clipped. “I’ve been trying to speak with you all evening, but you’ve been too busy entertaining every other man in this room.”

Your temper flared, and you straightened your spine. “Perhaps that’s because every other man in this room doesn’t believe he has some divine right to my attention.”

Anthony’s eyes narrowed, and he took another step closer. “Is that truly what you think of me?” he asked, his voice low but seething.

“What else am I to think?” you shot back, your voice rising. “You stride into every room as if the world should bow at your feet, as if no one could possibly resist the great Viscount Bridgerton. Well, I’m not one of your conquests, my lord, and I won’t be treated as such.”

Anthony’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, he said nothing. But then he stepped even closer, his voice dropping to a near-growl. “You think I’m trying to conquer you? That this is some sort of game to me? I have been chasing you for months. I’ve ignored every other debutante, turned down every match my mother has pushed my way, and still, you look at me as if I’m nothing more than a rogue.”

Your chest heaved as his words hit their mark. “And why shouldn’t I?” you demanded, your voice trembling with emotion. “Do you deny it? Do you deny the countless women, the scandalous liaisons, the reputation you’ve so carefully crafted? How am I to believe you would ever honor a vow made to me when you’ve broken so many others?”

Anthony flinched, and for a moment, his mask slipped. There was pain in his eyes, a vulnerability you hadn’t expected. “I am not proud of my past,” he said quietly. “But you—you’ve made me want to be better. To be more than what they say I am.”

You laughed bitterly, shaking your head. “And I’m supposed to believe that? Because you’ve paid me a few compliments and danced with me a handful of times? Forgive me, my lord, but I’ve seen how easily you charm others. I won’t be another name on your list.”

Anthony’s temper snapped, and he grabbed your wrist—not harshly, but firmly enough to stop you from walking away. “You don’t understand what you’re doing to me,” he said, his voice rough and urgent. “I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can’t think of anything but you. Every time I see you with another man, it feels like a knife to my chest. And yet, you look at me as if I’m nothing, as if I’m unworthy of even your consideration.”

His words hit you like a tidal wave, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. His grip on your wrist softened, and he took a step back, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“You don’t know what it’s like,” he continued, his voice quieter now but no less intense. “To feel so completely undone by someone. To want them so desperately, so utterly, and to know they see you as nothing more than a mistake waiting to happen.”

Your eyes stung with unshed tears, but you refused to let them fall. “Do you think this is easy for me?” you asked, your voice cracking. “Do you think I enjoy rejecting you, knowing I might be giving up on something—” You stopped yourself, shaking your head. “But I can’t ignore the part of me that’s terrified you’ll hurt me. That I’ll wake up one day and realize I was nothing more than a passing infatuation to you.”

Anthony stared at you, his chest heaving. “You think I would hurt you?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “After everything I’ve done to prove myself to you?”

“What have you done, Anthony?” you demanded, your voice rising again. “You’ve watched me from across ballrooms and interrupted my dances, but have you ever truly shown me who you are? Or are you still hiding behind the charm and arrogance that the ton has come to expect from you?”

The silence that followed was deafening. Anthony’s jaw clenched, and his hands curled into fists at his sides. “You’re right,” he said finally, his voice trembling with restraint. “You don’t know who I am. But that’s because you’ve never given me the chance to show you.”

Your heart ached at the raw emotion in his voice, but you refused to back down. “Perhaps I would have, if I believed you were capable of being the man I need.”

His eyes darkened, and for a moment, you thought he might argue. But then he stepped back, his expression hardening into one of cold resolve. “You’ll regret this,” he said quietly, his voice laced with both pain and anger. “You’ll regret not taking the chance when you had it.”

And with that, he turned on his heel and disappeared into the shadows, leaving you alone on the balcony with your heart pounding and your hands shaking.

As you stared after him, a single thought echoed in your mind.

Had you made a mistake?

————————

PART TWO: here

[somereaderinblue]

Warrior!Penelope God Games

After writing Odysseus's Challenge, I was still on a creative high & decided to do this too. NOTE: The swaps between gods were taken from @too-much-flynnolium’s art.

[ARES]

Mother, God Queen, rarely do I ask for favours

Now, I'm kneeling on your floor

With hopes to save a friendship

With one who's a prisoner far from home

Penelope

[HERA]

Divine intervention, so that is your wish?

To untie apprehensions that were placed on that Greek?

You are braving such dangers for a girl full of shame

But if she's worth the risk of going under

Why not make it a game?

Convince each of them that she ought to be released

And I'll release her

[ARES]

Who's them?

[HERA]

Artemis! Hestia!

Dionysus! Athena!

Demeter! Or me

What do you say?

[ARTEMIS]

Sure.

[HESTIA]

Very well.

[DIONYSUS]

Hic!

[ATHENA]

Alright.

[DEMETER]

Interesting.

[ARES]

Bring it.

[ARTEMIS]

You all know I'm a fan of nature and all

So with so many sirens gone

I think Penny's in the wrong

[ARES]

They had planned to do their worst

All she did was reimburse them

Now they'll tread with caution first

To live another day and sing even more verse!

[ARTEMIS]

Good point, release her.

[HESTIA]

Trust is not wasted, it’s forged

Why should I give her my support?

She turned her back on her cohort

[ARES]

Did you forget they failed to listen?

She was betrayed and now imprisoned

But if you make the right decision

She can still have a future with those who miss her!

[HESTIA]

Fine, release her.

[DIONYSUS]

Your little high and mighty Penelope

Claims to love another, but keeps him chained to a broken heart

[ARES]

She was busy fighting

[DIONYSUS]

More like busy spiting the cyclops

Let her feel the pain that the others feel and rot

[ARES]

Wait!

You must reconsider this!

[ATHENA]

Really now, Ares, no new tricks?

[ARES]

Athena!

[ATHENA]

What kind of so-called fighter holds back her power

Just lets her friends get devoured?

She couldn’t fight Scylla, but didn’t even try to outwit her

Hides with naught but a sword to get the job done

Tries to handle things upfront

Dim-witted and weak like her son

[ARES]

Hold your tongue now, her son's my friend!

And tell that drunkard that all kinds of hurts can mend

You want more mind games? Then set her free

To get back to her homestead, she'll make everyone’s brains bleed!

[ATHENA & DIONYSUS]

Then release her.

[DEMETER]

So many talents, so many tales

Give me one good reason why yours should prevail

[ARES]

She's got the hands of a weaver!

[DEMETER]

Dig deeper

[ARES]

She's pretty skilled with words!

[DEMETER]

You can do better than that!

[ARES]

She's very sassy…?

[DEMETER]

Eh

[ARES]

Never once does she give up on her child.

[DEMETER]

Release her.

[ARES]

I’ve played your game and won! Release her.

[HERA]

You dare to defy me? To give me more shame?

No one beats me, no one wins my game!

Marriage, bring her through the wringer

Show her I'm the judgement call

The one who makes the final call!

.

.

.

.

[ATHENA]

Is he dead?

.

.

.

Penelope had told Ares that for mothers, childbirth in itself was a difficult battle and the parenthood that came after a race with no finish line in sight. Personally, Ares would’ve likened it to war. If family had truly been something as linear as a race then surely Hermes would be on their father’s throne by now.

She placed her spawn in his arms. Said spawn miraculously didn’t squirm or squall against his battle-hardened muscles and cold gauntlets. 

“His name is Telemachus.” Far from battle. The irony wasn’t lost on anyone. Then again, considering how eerily squishy the infant was, perhaps the name was fitting.

Ares blinked as tiny fingers gripped his, the pudgy digits unable to full wrap around it. Yet, the grip was strong. No, it was simply alive. He’s bathed in blood so often that he’s forgotten even the tiniest of hearts can still beat.

“Telemachus.”  Penelope and Odysseus smiled. Smiled at him, smiled because of him. They were happy. He was happy.

.

.

.

[ARES]

Let her go…..please

Let her go……

[perfectlyoongi]

JEALOUS!JUNGKOOK who watches you closely at every party. Jungkook didn’t even realize he was looking at you — it was something instinctive for him: to admire you, to pay attention to you and any of your actions to see if you needed him; simply having you always there in some way was the most natural thing for Jungkook. that’s why, when he followed you with his eyes, making sure you were having fun, he didn’t realize that he prolonged his attention when someone wanted to be nicer to you; or when someone wanted to take a little risk and try to touch you in some way, Jungkook simply couldn’t look away from you. Jungkook just wanted to make sure you were having fun, but that you weren’t having the time of your life without him. “oh, was i looking? sorry. i was just admiring how all the men here are mere children in adult bodies. just a thought, really”

JEALOUS!JUNGKOOK who made getting to know you a contest. Jungkook knew that, at the end of the day, he was the one who had you. he always saw you talking to everyone. your words came out freely without any problems, revealing fond memories and fantastic stories. in just a few hours, you made yourself known to those who wanted to know you. but none of them knew how you liked your coffee; none of them knew you were still crying over lost friendships; none of them knew how you liked to make your bed; none of them knew you, as you were, in your entirety. none of them except Jungkook. he was the only one who knew you. he was better than everyone. “what do you mean they only found out now that you don’t like elevators? you’ve been afraid of it since you were 5. frankly, they could be more considerate and walk up the stairs with you, but oh well.”

JEALOUS!JUNGKOOK who compares himself to everyone you talk to. you might be accepting a drink from that bank clerk, but Jungkook cooked for you every saturday. you’re laughing at the professor’s joke, but you ended up crying and clutching your stomach from laughing so hard with Jungkook. the engineer could have put his arm around your neck, but it was Jungkook who hugged you from behind when you felt under the weather. you’re telling the story of how your boss mistook you for an intern to the psychologist, but it was Jungkook who heard all your secrets. yes, they could be a lot of things, but none of them were Jungkook. “are you sure the story you just heard was the best you’ve ever heard? don’t you remember how you liked that story i told you so much that you called me at 4 in the morning asking how it ended?”

JEALOUS!JUNGKOOK who had no doubt that you would be happier by his side. no matter how many laughs and conversations you had with everyone else, Jungkook was still special, he knew it. he was the only one capable of turning your tears into melodious laughter, he was the only one capable of bringing you comfort on the coldest nights, he was the only one. yes. Jungkook didn’t need to worry — he was the one who knew you, who made you smile, who made you happy. no one else could make you feel grateful to be alive like Jungkook did. none of these people who wanted your attention knew how divine you were. only Jungkook — the only one capable of making you truly happy. “i know we agreed to marry each other if we’re single by 35, but i’m just suggesting you consider moving that date forward. that’s all.”

JEALOUS!JUNGKOOK who just wanted to make you smile like others did. yes, Jungkook was himself, and he was a lot to you, but he couldn’t make you smile like that. you had shining eyes, your skin was glowing, and your smile, as if drawn by the happiest artist, sculpted by the luckiest god, painted by the brightest star — your smile was everything. and Jungkook had never been able to put a smile like that on your face, a smile capable of stealing the light from the moon and the heat from the sun — pure, heartfelt, yours. “i noticed that you were enjoying the conversation with the group of professors. you looked really pretty smiling.”

JEALOUS!JUNGKOOK who doesn’t want to lose you, but he can’t ask you to stay. you were happy. you were having fun. you were charming the entire audience with your smile. you didn’t belong to Jungkook anymore — you never did. now you were theirs. of all those who admired you and wanted to know you better. and all Jungkook could do was look at you, admire you, see you conquering the entire world without any effort. like he always did. like he always will.

JEALOUS!JUNGKOOK who finally decided to talk to you. “when you were with the others and having fun with them it was as if you held my heart in your hands and squeezed it with your every laugh. i feel like i was never able to make you as happy as you were with them and i realized that that hurts, a lot. what i’m trying to say is that i like you, and that’s why i don’t like seeing you with others.”

[matchatarot]

Your spirit team wants to connect with you, Bunny! Here is some information about you and your life path coming from them. To pick a pile don’t overthink it; choose the one that draws you in the most while thinking about the reading’s intent. Only take what resonates! Love, Matcha ♡

☆ masterlist

Pile 1 ₊˚.༄

Spirit sees in you a vivacious, creative mind full of potential. They see that your destiny is to be free, unbothered by others' expectations, unchained by society’s standards. They know how unique, young and adventurous you are. Your guides know that the opportunities are endless for you, that in this life you are made to set your own path, that whatever you tell them you want, they’ll give it to you. You might be trying to find your true calling, your spirit team is telling you that you’re the one who will choose that path and that they’ll be helping you along the way. Your guides are asking you to be precise in your wishes so that they can give you exactly what you want. Your guides know that your soul absolutely needs action to be at its full potential, you’re not supposed to rest too much, you’re not supposed to be too comfortable. Your spirit team know that you don’t need to worry about the future because they know you are divinely protected. Spirit sees that you’re someone who needs concrete hands-on learning, if school has been difficult for you it’s because you find your true calling in concrete action, not words. If you want to learn something new, you better start doing it, reading endless information about it is a waste of time. Your spirit sees that you’re a young spirit in search of high emotions, that when you’re unable to sleep at night because you’re feeling that void in your heart, this is what you’re yearning for. Spirit sees how naturally talented you are, they know you have the potential to be extremely successful being self-employed. Your spiritual team sees you making choices that are attracting your soulmates and they know that you’ll meet them right after you shed your old limiting beliefs that don’t serve you anymore. Spirit sees that you could be a very persuasive leader and that you’ll meet a lot of people willing to support you in your pursuits. If you’ve lost a pet or a family member, know that they’re with you in spirit. If you’ve had a feeling that a deceased loved one came back as a pet, this is confirmation.

417 hz, 666, 2222, 3, 1, dove, the moon, amethyst

↳ book a personal reading with me on ko-fi ★

Pile 2 ⊹˚˖ ☆

Spirit sees that you are healing your root chakra. They’re celebrating your new understanding of the world around you, perhaps you’ve let go of some limiting beliefs. They see that you’re on the path of self-fulfillment, guided by your own faith you do not mind being alone. You understand that it’s only by putting yourself first that you’ll get what you want. If that’s not where you’re at right now, this is a message that it’s the mindset you’re heading toward with your current actions. You’re energetically protecting your manifestations, shielding yourself from the evil eye. You’re no longer a people pleaser. You don’t stop the universe from giving others the karma they rightfully deserve anymore. You, you’ve done the work. You’ve worked on yourself, gone through the karma, evolved from it. You’re spiritually awakening because of that work. And you’ll do it again. You’re a phoenix, rising through the ashes, always stronger. That’s actually why you’ve got this strong, because you process your emotions and go through things instead of procrastinating life. You’ve amassed so much occult knowledge, you know way more subconsciously than you consciously know. You have claircognisance and you get spiritual downloads in your dreams. Spirit sees how much knowledge you’re amassing at night. Your dreams are currently preparing you for another spiritual awakening. During that spiritual awakening, you’ll let go of suffocating relationships and values, you’ll be confident in your manifestations and you’ll let your soul take the reins of your life. Right now, you might be intuitively preparing yourself for great change by assessing which relationship is bringing value into your life and which is not, spending more time with authentic people, and shielding yourself from monitoring spirits.

528hz, 444, 7, citrine, pyrite, the sun, Apollo

↳ book a personal reading with me on ko-fi ★

Pile 3 ‧₊˚ ♡

You’re processing some of your parent’s or ancestors' karma. The reason why you’re going through this injustice, after all this is not your own karma, is because the knowledge that you’re getting from this situation is what will, in the end, bring you justice. You’re healing your bloodline but at the same time, you’re going through difficult emotions that are helping you improve your craft. They know that you’re supposed to be advancing in the unknown right now, don’t worry if the future seems blurry, this is exactly what your spiritual team want for you right now. Before you go to the next step of your journey, you absolutely need to create a deep bond with yourself, you need to become your own favourite person. Meditate and prioritize yourself. The thing is, you have a lot of abundance coming, life is gonna start making a lot of sense, and you’re truly going to understand why life has been like this for you. You’re gonna meet your soul family and be financially free. You’re not getting any of that before you actually put yourself at the center of your own life. So you’re narcissistic mom, your abusive dad, that one friend secretly wishing for your downfall that you’ve been knowing since middle school? Yeah, you’re gonna have to cut them off. Have faith in yourself. Spirit knows that right now is a key moment in your life and that your decisions are gonna be setting the tone for the rest of your life. So take time for yourself. You’re already free, you always have the choice. Bunny, you have the key to your own cell. Listen to yourself. Let that old part of you die. Follow your own rules. Also, maybe get to know your ancestors and your family members so you understand a bit more what kind of karma is circulating in your bloodline.

coraline (the movie), palo santo, piano, 8, 4, 1, Dionysus, fairies, Ichiko Aoba’s music

↳ book a personal reading with me on ko-fi ★

decks used for this reading: fairy tarot cards by radleigh valentine, les vampires oracle by Lucy Cavendish, mystical wisdom by Gaye Guthrie, l’oracle du chemin spirituel by Valérie Defour & Valérie Saussez, ors et ombres by Stephanie Lafrance

[weediee]

New Orleans Beignets

HUMAN ALASTOR X FEM WIFE!READER (She/Her pronouns)

Summary: Y/N is one of the leading bakery owners in the entirety of New Orleans! People travel minutes, hours to try the sweet treats that reside within her bakery. But there's one special radio host who's obsessed with none other than her famous New Orleans Beignets.

E/N: This is based off of Princess Tiana's Beignets. It was too perfect not to make into an Alastor story so why not + she's one of my favourite princesses.

This story isn't proofread so it's not perfect. Also I haven't written for a while so I might be a little rusty, but I hope you all enjoy it anyways! x

No trigger warnings besides some light kisses! (Lmk if I forgot any.)

Rainy afternoons were never the brightest time for those in New Orleans.

The freezing cold, the shivering of finger tips, the multiple layers worn in hopes of being able to keep at least a little bit warm. It was always certainly a surprise when people realized that instead of the usual sunlight and humidity, it was going to rain.

So, what do those in New Orleans do during these miserable days? Well there's one of two things. Stay inside, bored half to death, or go find a nice place to have a cozy meal and settle down for the day. And what better place to go rather than Y/N's bakery?

That's the thought that Alastor thought of every day when these storms swept through New Orleans (and every usual day too.)

No rain, hail, nor shine could prevent him from leaving the studio on his lunch break to go check on his dearest wife who was slaving away in her bakery, and in the process of greeting her, he could never resist stealing one of her heavenly Beignets.

"Hello, anyone home?" Alastor spoke loudly, his radio voice on show as he entered the door. He watched as Y/N perked up from behind the counter after hearing the short chime of the door opening. "Hello, stranger." She laughed softly, standing up straight to brush off her dusty apron. It was adorned with pastry batter and powdered sugar from all the sweets made throughout the day, if anything it was just a sign of how hard she worked.

"Yes, I did prepare your Beignets darling." She admitted without a question needed, walking over to her husband to pass over a small brown paper bag, inside two hot Beignets showered perfectly with powdered sugar. They smelled divine, it was like heaven itself had been baked into two small pastries.

"Just how you like it." She nodded slightly, moving forward to kiss her husband's cheek nonchalantly.

"Thank you my dear, without you I fear I would starve!" Alastor laughed, looking at his wife with such a thankful and loving look plastered across his face. "You truly are such a darling when it comes to spoiling me."

"Only for New Orleans finest radio host." She said proudly, crossing her arms over her chest.

Alastor leaned forward, kissing her forehead softly for a moment before pulling away, smiling down at his gorgeous girl. "And only for New Orleans finest Beignet maker."

E/N: I'm tweaking I hate this. Am I still going to post it? Yes.

PLEASE don't be hesitant to send me some Alastor ideas or head cannons you'd like me to write. I really don't enjoy writing without a plot like this story, you can see the laziness within my work.

All dandy though, have a wonderful evening everyone!

- Weedie 🥀

[peach-top]

❝ 𝙑𝙄𝙎𝙄𝙊𝙉 ! ❞

➤ ACT I. | CHAPTER VI.

➤ PAST.

There are two types: A listener and a yapper. [Y] and Shadow Milk Cookie seem to match that. The beast cookie had been yapping for hours while the wanderer listened while reading books. Who listens and reads at the same time?

Shadow Milk Cookie pouted, then pulled on the wanderer's cheeks, ❝Are you listening to me?! Hmph!❞

“Yes.” [Y] replied. The beloved trickster crossed his arms, ❝Hmph…It's no fun when you're being too honest.❞

“Would you rely on my terrible skill in lying?” [Y] asked.

❝C'mon! It can't be that bad!❞ Shadow Milk Cookie snorted. ❝Give me a lie!❞

The wanderer tries to think of a lie to prove that he's bad at lying. How can someone as stoic as [Y] be bad at lying? Shadow Milk Cookie has seen bad liars before, but [Y] has a great poker face and that is how he imagined the face that the former guardian makes when lying. Uh…the results weren't so great…

[Y] made the infamous or famous Tanjiro's lying face as he lied through his teeth, “I…I’m not an honest person…”

Shadow Milk looked at him, shOOked at what he saw and what he heard. Not only that [Y] has an inability to lie, but also BAD at coming up with lies! He has NEVER, EVER seen anyone this bad!

❝THAT'S THE BEST LIE YOU COME UP WITH?!❞ Shadow Milk Cookie hollered, gripping on the taller male's shoulders and shaking him violently, ❝AND WHAT'S WITH THAT FACE?! ARE YOU TANJIRO?! THAT'S CUTE, BUT IT'S SUCKS!!❞

[Y] fidgets, scratching the back of his head, “Sorry, Millennial Tree taught me to be an honest person which gives me the inability to lie…”

Shadow Milk squish [Y]’s cheeks, ❝My poor beloved…What's your name?❞

“[Y]...”

❝Hmm…I’ll call you my pookie, pookie! Still, how can he make you this bad at this?❞ Shadow Milk whined, continually squishing the male's cheeks. ❝You were a great liar keeping a poker face~ Telling such cruel lies that can break other’s mind. Like mine~ My mind was nearly broken but you somehow showed mercy…❞

“Huh? What do you…mean by that?” [Y] tilted his head. Shadow Milk hummed, ❝Are you really sure you wish to know?❞

“It'll help regain his memories, right?” The spirit thought.

❝Are you looking to know the truth? I may or may not be a liar, but…I can't lie to you, pookie. Let's go somewhere private where no one can hear you. I know just the place.❞

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

With White Lily, the female was flipping through pages of the history book about Red Spider Lily Cookie. However, some pages were ripped out of the book. Why is that? It's almost like someone angrily ripped it out or tried to hide something.

“...” White Lily Cookie frowned, feeling that using the book is useless. Tho, she spotted something poking out from between the pages.

Curious, the female flipped over to the page where it was poking out. To her surprise, it was a folded up map, but it ripped in half. What's the map for? Why is it here?

White Lily Cookie took notice of a divine figure in a photo with orange lilies surrounding them. Now that she looks at it, this mysterious figure looks almost identical to Red Spider Lily. She has so many questions…

“...What is all of this? Could this be the secret of Red Spider Lily Cookie?” White Lily Cookie thought to herself. “This is only half a map, could it be leading to treasures or an abandoned kingdom?”

“If I try to explore the secret, I might make the same mistake. But…curiosity is taking the better of me. I must find the other half of the map without Elder Faerie noticing…”

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

Elder Faerie Cookie rubs his temper while pacing back and forth. It was stressing him out. The last remaining flower left behind by its master, Red Spider Lily corrupted White Lily’s dream, and his plan of return. It'll be double the threats if Red Spider Lily Cookie was awakening and will release the beasts.

Worse than that, if Red Spider Lily Cookie was awakened, then the creator behind his existence will make their official appearance rather than in a dream.

The flower that was shrieking earlier became a yellow lily flower which means it was reborn. What can he do with it now? Set it free?

“I'll take that.” Elder Faerie jumped when a tendril grabbed hold of the flower pot. Before the elder faerie could react, tendrils wrapped around his figure. Oleander tilted his head, “Ah? This isn't how it is supposed to look. He must've really changed.”

“Who are you?!” Elder Faerie grunted, feeling the tendrils tightening its grasp around him. Oleander ignored him and tried to use his curse magic to reverse the spell on the flower, but failed.

“Oh? My spell isn't working…Even though he has no memories of the past, his spell still remains the same.” The lilac haired male mumbled before glancing over at the trapped elder faerie, “He’s here, am I right?”

The faerie kingdom flinches before looking away, “I prefer to remain silent.”

Oleander forcefully grabs Elder Faerie's face, forcing the faerie to look him in the eyes, “You're with the spirit of the forest, correct? Let's see…Elder Faerie Cookie is your name…?”

“...”

Oleander then looked over towards the tree in the distance. He has heard of the Beast Cookies, the first holder of the soul jams. They were sealed away by the witches and entrusted Elder Faerie Cookie to guard the tree to keep them sealed.

“I'll give you two choices: tell me where he is or…” the lavender haired male trails off and points to the tree, “...I'll release the beasts in the wild…”

Elder Faerie's eyes widened, “...! You can't—”

“Choice #1 or #2…?” Oleander glared.

The fool faerie was forced to make a choice to protect both [Y] and the Faerie Kingdom. Although, he might think it's impossible for the oleander-scented cookie to remove the seal from the tree. If he wants to escape this then he has no choice but to pick choice #—

“Not yet…” a deep voice spoke. Elder Faerie's heart nearly jumped when he pointed the horned cookie behind Oleander, who got scared by him.

“Fuck! Mayhem, give me a damn warning next time!” Oleander scolded, placing his hand over his heart. Mayhem crossed his arms, “Master ███████ only wants the flower for now. He isn't our objective yet.”

“That name again… I think I might have heard that name from somewhere, but where…? They're after [Y]... Perhaps, the master they speak of is that very same cookie who threatened Millennial Tree Cookie in his dream.” Elder Faerie furrowed his eyebrows.

“Should I crumble him? He may have the remaining power of a guardian left in him, but…he won't last longer if he were to use it again.” Oleander huffed, placing his hand on his hips. “He's a fragile cookie.”

“Your problem. Not mine.” The [h] haired male scoffed before he transported himself elsewhere. Oleander shrugs it off then whistles, commanding the tendrils to suck the inside of Elder Faerie's body.

❝ewwwww!❞

Don't think that way. Oleander has the ability to suck every meat and bone from his victim’s body, leaving them with nothing but skin. Their bodies deflated like a balloon. His tendrils are carnivores.

❝double ewwwww!❞

The tendril wrapped itself around Elder Faerie's neck, allowing the other to insert itself in his mouth to remove everything from inside his body until there's nothing.

❝ew! this came out weird and yet they can't find a way to explain it without making it sound weird!!!❞

“...” Oleander let out a sigh with disappointment when his tendrils let go of the foolish king, “Ugh. He's expired. That's not enough food for my tendrils. All of the faeries are expired. Two or three have already been deflated.”

“Your majesty!” Silverbell and Mercurial Knight shouted out to the king once they arrived at the scene. Elder Faerie choked out the saliva, holding his sore throat. Before they noticed Oleander, he disappeared with the flower.

“Your majesty. Are you alright?” Silverbell asks the choking king.

“I-I’m quite alright…Just a sore throat.” Elder Faerie strained, rubbing his sore throat. Silverbell and Mercurial Knight help him up on his feet. The king apologized, “Sorry that you had to witness this.”

“As long as you're unharmed, then that's fine by me.” Mercurial Knight said. “However, we made a…terrible discovery…”

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

❝Ah. This seems like a great spot.❞ Shadow Milk Cookie smiled, plopping down on the bouncing spore. He then patted the spot next to him for [Y] to sit. So [Y] did. Shadow Milk Cookie plops on the male's lap and clears his throat, ❝I shall tell you a tale about the Light of Knowledge and the cookie who lost hope of life. This is a tragic tale about a dear friend of mine…❞

The spirit of Deceit pulled out two cardboard puppets of himself and a cookie that [Y] never seen before.

Light Milk Cookie was wandering in the hall of the Blueberry Yogurt Academy on his way to the library. He slowed down when he heard a soft shriek from the darkness of the hallway. Curious, the male follows the sound cautiously.

“Hello…?” Light Milk Cookie whispered. The soft shriek was getting closer as the male stepped closer until the light lit up in a limping [h] haired male male, injured. The inverted flower took notice of Light Milk Cookie and let out an alerted shriek, shattering the glass and nearly bursting Light Milk 's eardrums.

“Ugh…Enough…” the injured cookie demanded the flower, causing it to stop. The male glare over his shoulder, “...What do you want? Power? Wealth? What is that you foolish, greedy cookie wants from me…?”

“Ah…sorry, I heard shrieking and found you injured.” Light Milk apologized before kneeling before the male, “Are you alright?”

“Stay back…! I don't need your pity.” The injured cookie growled. “You just want to get on my good side so you can stab me in the back…”

“Eh? No. I just want to make sure you're alright?” The dual haired male declined. “A…are you new here? What happened?”

“...I'm not new to Earthbread, but I'm not sure what the hell is this place…” the injured male mumbled. “But I might be safe from that helluva place I used to call home.”

“Whatever happened to you?” Light Milk asked. “Ah. Before you can explain. Let me take you to the clinic.”

❝I met him back at the Blueberry Yogurt Academy, injured. The reason for his injuries was that his own cookies that he created betrayed him.❞ Shadowmilk explained as he showed off the pre-corrupted Red Spider Lily Cookie being attacked by his people. ❝They grew greedy for power and wealth. They want nothing more but greed. They were made to have peace and happiness, but that doesn't last long❞

❝Sad, right? How could they harm someone who wants nothing but peace and happiness? Cookies these days are nothing but disappointment.❞

❝He’s not a bad person, it's the fact that greedy cookies force him into something he's not. I won't forgive those bastards for hurting him.❞

“Ah…poor Red Spider Lily Cookie…” [Y] frowned. Shadow Milk Cookie sigh, lean back against the male’s chest, ❝Yeah. I didn't get the chance to…tell him how I feel…❞

“Oh? What feeling?” [Y] asked innocently.

Shadow Milk Cookie turns to face [Y] with a serious expression on his face. He then cup the male's face and confessed, ❝I love you even if you don't remember me…❞

“...What does that—” Before [Y] could finish questioning it, Shadow Milk Cookie pulled him in a kiss. After a few minutes of kissing, the spirit pulled away and licked his lips, ❝Your lips taste off. Cacao, maybe?❞

“Ah…”

╭      ⁞ ❏. facts

┊      ⁞ ❏. before red spider lily cookie strike fear to earthbread, he been hanging around the pre corrupted beast cookies and grew fond of them

┊      ⁞ ❏. red spider lily cookie has hatred towards the ancient heroes, but despise white lily and dark cacao more

┊      ⁞ ❏. red spider lily wish to take dark cacao’s eye and take it as his own

➤ chapter v.

➤ chapter vii.

[dangermousie]

2024 list - cdrama edition

Yes, it's cdrama world so even though December is halfway though, they may drop 10 more dramas I will check out between now and 2025. But if I wait, this will never get done and it can always be updated, so here we go. This has been one of the best cdrama years for me!

This is only going to cover cdramas that aired in 2024; if I watched it but it was made in a different year, it’s not on the list. As always, very subjective.

DRAMAS WATCHED

(In order of liking from least to most as opposed to pure quality; I am including if I’ve seen enough to make up my mind; yes I realize that’s inaccurate, but that’s my list)

61 My Divine Emissary - it’s actually a pretty good drama year when the worst cdrama I’ve checked out this year is merely utterly shrill and brain dead but not horrifyingly offensive to good taste.

60 Are You the One - no you are not. There are objectively worse dramas I've ranked higher but this is here because I am annoyed at the waste of Zhang Wanyi and this drama's popularity and douban rating. I am a petty bitch.

59 Fight for Love - they had wonderful actors and a great premise and utterly wasted it. There might someday be a good drama about a female general torn between a royal and an enemy general but this ain’t it.

58 Peacock in Wonderland - I am a few decades too old for this brain dead fest but I am glad Zhou Jun Wei is not canceled at least.

57 Her Fantastic Adventures - honestly, this, MDE and Revenger are all the same type of subgenre - they aren’t offensive they are just as empty as air. This also suffers from casting an utter dud as ML and a charisma boat as SML. Why?

56 Lady Revenger Returns from the Fire - the main thing I remember from this is that Miles Wei must have stolen the wig maker’s parking spot. That wig is the one that should have gone into the fire.

55 Fox Matchmaker: The Red Moon Pact - it’s so pretty, so full of gorgeous costumes and actors and I enjoyed the first few eps, but ultimately it was like watching colorful paint dry. It was so dull, I couldn’t even hate watch it, and that is more damning than anything.

54 Your Trap/Imprisoned Love - the plot of this mini made no sense but the softcore vibes of sanitized 1990s cinemax were on point!

53 The Unexpected Marriage - cutesy dumb period romcom. Could be worse, not that this is much of a praise.

52 Love’s Rebellion - so twee, so precious, so full of cutesy awful CGI and actors who aren’t bothering. I am not sure why Zhang Linghe and Jing Tian are in this mess that looks like rainbow vomited on a xianxia set.

51 My Wife’s Double Life - her life may be double but her brain is only half.

50 Jade’s Fateful Love - I lost some braincells trying this one, but (a) it’s gorgeous and (b) no transmigration say you? Multiple transmigration in first ep alone! Good for you, makers!

49 Follow My Heart - how do you have Luo Yunxi, Song Yi and Cheng Lei and waste them so utterly? First few eps were nice and then it’s like exercise in how much you can tolerate before you call it quits.

48 The Story of Pearl Girl - almost made me dislike ZLS and LYN and that's a feat. Dull and stupid and pointless from beginning to end.

47 Brocade Odyssey - more like Snooze Novella.

46 Melody of Golden Age - see write up for FMH because it fits here. This is bland with a side of bland.

45 The Legend of Taotie - an unequivocally bad drama but the look is such a nostalgia trip and I had fun.

44 Sword and Fairy 4 - it’s kinda a mess but I loved the actors and some of the plots and you can do worse.

43 Dawn Amidst Hidden Clouds - I enjoy watching Chang Huasen as a ML but the rest is eminently forgettable.

42 Blossoms in Adversity - dumb as a set of particularly dumb bricks and ML I don’t think could act if his life depended on it, but it was strangely addictive and I watched it often before better dramas. It’s just a genuinely good time somehow!

41 Judge Dee - it’s not you it’s me in action. It’s smart and gorgeous and well acted, I just don’t do procedurals.

40 The Substitute Princess’ Love - it’s like some of those trashy web novels I enjoy. It was clearly cut, its budget was equivalent to loose change found in the pockets of makers of Fox Spirit Matchmaker, but it was a surprisingly fun watch, though I enjoyed the first half better than the second. Also as a drama old, it was a fun blast from the past seeing Dylan Kuo (if you have never watched the old twdrama The Outsiders, what are you even doing with your life?)

39 Rise from the Ashes - a wacky as hell mini where reborn FL wreaks revenge with help of her fake uncle as they carry on as some sort of Borgia/Phillip II of Spain fame hybrid. If you don’t need to use your brain, you could have a worse time.

38 The Legend of Heroes - it suffered from me seeing other versions of this tale before that I liked more and not loving how dark looking it is but that cast is A+ and Wang Hongyi was a revelation as Yang Kang.

37 Beauty Strategy - a mini of what a few years ago would have been a proper angsty drama of palace scheming enemies while lovers, powerless emperor etc etc. Honestly, I loved it.

36 Lovesickness - this year’s gender-reversed Ancient Love Song, not as artistic or good but still a good time about a woman traveling back in time and falling for a powerful but doomed duke.

35 Fragments of Kylin - demon slayer falls for a demon; this one came out of nowhere and didn’t have much of a budget but is surprisingly lovely.

34 Love of Nirvana - the good parts are vvvvv good and points for making the emperor the villain, but it almost never emotionally grabbed me, and a lot of time was spent on narratives I had no interest in.

33 Enslaved by Love - the only reason it’s not the most fucked up drama on this list is because Shadow Sect, Palace Shadows and Burning Flames exist. The ML is toxic enough to be banned by the Geneva convention but FL does get some of her own back and also if you ever wanted to see blindness-curing sex, boy do I have a drama for you!

32 The Princess Royal/The Grand Princess - I am in the minority of finding this drama very mid. The acting was fine (except for former eunuch dude), the writing was fine, but I never really got invested alas. I don’t even know why. I think it’s just not my type of narrative; there was no intensity.

31 Secrets of the Shadow Sect - head of sect lady and her very very subby bodyguard. What’s not to love?

30 Palace Shadows: Between Two Princes - ML pretends to be his own twin, bdsm and sluttiness ensues. I cannot even explain how wild this drama is but the acting is on point and way way fun!

29 Dashing Youth - I had no expectations of this drama (was either indifferent to or disliked everyone in the cast, wuxia and wuxia-adjacent is rarely my genre, the number of characters is huge) but I loved how under its bright colors, it eventually gets very dark (it’s quite old school that way) and somehow I am invested in everyone in the huge cast. This being a prequel to The Blood of Youth makes us know the fates of many of the characters and this adds the air of tragic inevitability to it all.)

28 The Last Immortal - a surprisingly sweet and touching xianxia that works largely because Zhao Lusi and Wang Anyu are so so so so solid separately and together.

27 Burning Flames - the most gonzo drama on this list. I love it for committing to insanity as it should (if you pick insane source material, commit.) Humans taking on the worst Gods since Olympus, fur and chains, sentient crystal FL, ML who goes from Crown Prince to mine slave to rebel leader, bare chests and fur, demon elves, a villain that leaches color from the world - this drama has everything and I loved its unhinged glory.

26 Lost You Forever 2 - it would have been higher except it fell apart in the last third so badly I am still wondering how the makers could misunderstand their own characters and their own narratives so badly. The first season was a masterpiece. This is a hot mess.

25 Fateful Love - this was released after years in the dungeon and feels old school in the best way. It's what reading one of those OP FL web novels feels like, and the OTP is shockingly competent and adult. I loved that.

24 Love Game In Eastern Fantasy - excellent start, mid middle, and a terrible last third but I cannot have truly hard feelings since before it fell off, it really was fun.

23 Love in a Dream - it's a mini that has the most gorgeous cinematography I've seen all year except for Fangs of Fortune and Eternal Brotherhood. I loved the vibes and the story (though of course it suffered from mini running time constraints) and its feeling of tragic love and lost time.

22 Different Princess - a ridiculous amount of fun and ship about an author falling through to her own novel and falling for the villain.

21 Kill Me Love Me - the story is a mess and a half but the OTP gave me some incredible incredible scenes, and Wu Jinyan, Liu Xueyi and Baron Chen are gorgeous and acting their hearts out, plus the whump mmmm.

20 Meet You at the Blossom - this is a Thai/Taiwan/China coproduction so I am including it. It's my list! An uncensored BL adaptation with delicious dysfunction, sunshine x murder boy, angst, shippiness, groveling and wigs that are surprisingly decent for the budget!

19 Sword and Fairy 6 - I love this tale; the young OTP (a whale weapon and a clone of her trigger? More wholesome than you think) who are so ride or die for each other, the other amazing characters (sect leader who has to live as a man and her “twin” who is an ancient trapped spirit, a wolf demon, etc…) It’s just genuinely good and proof that targeted to younger audience doesn’t have to be bad.

18 In Blossom - sure, we all know JJY can’t act, but the narrative was so fun and the visuals were so gorgeous and Liu Xueyi so gorgeous and magnetic in his first proper Male Lead role, it was all worth it. I liked the first half when they were still cautious of each other more than the second but this is just a good time!

17 Snowy Night Timeless Love - a classic, tragic, romantic wuxia the way "they don't make it any more" only they did. Just lovely.

16 The Rise of Ning - such a pleasant, easy slice of period life with a side of revenge and fakecest (but only a teeny side.) Secondary characters are not particularly engaging and the plot suffers from being limited to 40 eps, but the main OTP is so enjoyable and Ren Min and Zhang Wanyi are doing such nuanced, lovely job that I can't even complain.

15 Hard to Find - my second favorite mini on the list, this is an aesthetic feast. The doomed couple from enemy kingdoms, the vengeance, the twists - if ever a mini deserved to be a proper drama, this would be it. But alas, if it was they’d probably not let it.

14 The Double - unhinged web novel vibe done so perfectly in the inimitable Yu Zheng style. The leads were so good even the amazing villains didn’t truly steal the show. Like with a lot of cdramas, it lost a lot of steam in second half for me, but still a great watch.

13 Strange Tales of Tang Dynasty 2 - I never like procedurals. Somehow both seasons of this show are the sole exception. It is so gorgeous, so impeccably acted, with such great characters. I cannot wait for s3.

12 Love in the Desert - a mini drama in story but with a proper budget and run time, this is such gorgeous sensual fun with a great main OTP, a truly incredible secondary OTP and some beautiful visuals.

11 Fortune Writer - the best mini this year and better than most “proper” cdramas (Douban raters agree), this tale of villains in love fighting the narrative has a lot to say about writing cliches and writing conventions. I love how clever it is and how it actually made me care for the characters.

10 Tender Light - except for that ending, this was in the running for my favorite 2024 cdrama. The writers’ lack of ability to commit and carry through pushed it lower but otherwise it’s a genuine masterpiece. The acting, the chemistry, the looping narrative, what it has to say about abuse and complicity of society and blazing your own moral path is something else.

9 Derailment - who knew a little quasi scifi modern would be this high but this one is amazing. If you watch one modern this year, make it this one. Our FL is a rich girl a little in the future who somehow wakes up in a different timeline a few years back in the body of that universe’s version of her (who is poor and has been missing) and her one connection is a young man who was in love with that universe’s version of her. I don’t want to say more so as not to spoil because the twists are twisty but this is EVERYTHING and also addresses transmigration, what it means to love, what is ethical etc etc. And that OTP!

8 Will Love in Spring - this is a year of miracles because I don't just have one modern among my favorites, I have a bunch. This is a gorgeous story about love and healing and awkward, scarred emotionally and physically people feeling if their odd angles and prickly flaws actually fit and working towards a future with fits and starts and it's just so chemistry driven, so tender, so gorgeous.

7 Snowfall - a fever dream of a vampire narrative set in an alternate universe of the Republican era, it’s gorgeous, passionate, hella queer and just like watching the most amazing fanfic come to life.

6 Heroes - a complete masterpiece about three men about to be on the scrapheap of history in the Qing Dynasty about to fall (a constable devoted to obsolete norms, who spent his whole life studying for the imperial exam which got canceled, the world’s best swordsman in the era of guns, and a former imperial guard who emerges from prison into a different world) whose stories intersect as they search for treasure and the women and other people in their lives. This is smart, impeccably acted, filmed in a stunning way, bleak and funny at once and - I don’t use the term masterpiece often but I will use it here.

4 (tie) Blossom - a romantic fever dream, with gorgeous damaged destined lovers. The director is the person who made A Familiar Stranger and Butterflied Lover into amazingness on a short run time and no budget, so when he actually has a proper run time and a budget - oh boy - it's romantic and beautiful and intense, a drama as opera.

4 (tie) The Legend of Shen Li - I am often indifferent to xianxia that suffers from too much CGI, hella immaturity and not enough stakes. Shen Li is everything. It’s gorgeously filmed, it’s adult, it gives the story time to breathe and centers it on characters and relationships. And the OTP is everything you can ever dream of - it reunites Zhao Liying and Lin Gengxin, totally healing those Princess Agents wounds - their chemistry is still utter fire but the narrative supports them every step of the way.

3 Eternal Brotherhood - if JoL2/FoF did not come out this year, this would be my favorite cdrama of the year. It’s clearly a passion project with a small budget but this complex and grim tale of three rather different sworn brothers in a world at war is gorgeous, smart, well acted, dark and inspiring at once. There are shots that take my breath away, the love stories are amazing, the pace is perfect, and ohhh our complex mainsssssss.

1 (tie) Joy of Life 2 - (almost) nothing can beat this masterpiece. The first season was perfect and somehow the second is even more perfect. It’s smart, it’s funny, it’s heartbreaking, the cast is still impeccable and Zhang Ruoyun still gives a completely jawdropping performance as the focus of all the madness Fan Xian. If you watch only one cdrama this year, make it this one; well, this and Fangs of Fortune.

1 (tie) Fangs of Fortune - this is an emotional and visual feast, with such incredible characters, interesting explorations of fantasy and mortality and morality and what makes life worth living. It made awful actors good and mid actors amazing (and amazing ones extra amazing.) It is also the most stunning drama I've ever watched as well as throwing me back into what it's like to be immersed into an amazing fantasy book as a kid and the characters and the relationships and the themes sing to me. A miracle.

FAVORITE DRAMA

Fangs of Fortune - I have rarely seen a drama that speaks to me so personally, but it is also narratively perfect, emotionally devastating, with impeccable acting, complex characters and visuals that are beyond stunning.

Joy of Life 2 - there is not one second I forwarded, not one unnecessary scene, not one weak link character. It’s a smart, fierce masterpiece.

Eternal Brotherhood is a runner up - it came out of nowhere and owned my whole heart. It’s the sole other cdrama this year where I did not ff a second.

WORST DRAMA

My Divine Emissary may have been the lowest ranked drama on my list but honestly, a drama with a tiny budget and a bunch of nobodies does not deserve to be listed as the Worst. What does? Fox Spirit Matchmaker - a huge budget, fancy stars etc etc and yet it's a completely and utterly unwatchable mess. To make something this thoroughly dull is a genuine feat. I cannot think of a drama that insults its viewer more not just this year but any recent year.

FAVORITE MALE CHARACTER

Fan Xian (Zhang Ruoyun), Joy of Life 2 - how could it ever be anyone but smart, irreverent, fierce, broken, idealistic, funny Fan Xian. The man who fights against the horrors of the universe, who remains human while being so larger than life. This character is everything.

Or Zhu Yun (Hou Minghao), an ancient, irreverent, vivid, borken demon who wants to die even as he might finally find a reason to live in Fangs of Fortune.

Runner up: Zhou Luo (Zhang Xincheng), Tender Light - idealistic loner who refuses to compromise his principles even as it would be easier to, even as it destroys his life, ZXC has always been a solid actor but here he is beyond.

Alternatively, Zichuan Xiu (Yang Xuwen), Eternal Brotherhood - only way to describe Xiu is “trauma sunshine.” He’s funny, he’s irrevocably fucked up, he is magnetic and intense and he fights for his hopeless ideals and he breaks and he keeps going.

or Xing Zhi (Lin Gengxin), the lonely ancient god in Shen Li discovering the pleasure of life for the first time in aeons.

or Zhuo Yichen (Fangs of Fortune) - a traumatized idealist who goes through so much hell but retains his heart and his core of steel even as he grows up about complexities of the world and the human heart.

FAVORITE FEMALE CHARACTER

Shen Li (Zhao Liying), The Legend of Shen Li - so fierce, so certain, so alive. She is a goddess but ZLY made her feel so real.

Runner up: Nan Ya (Tong Yao), Tender Light - an abuse victim who keeps trying to find a way out, she’s strong and damaged and complex and honestly, one of the best performances this year.

Alternatively, Jiang Xiao Yuan (Liu Haocun), Derailment - she makes a character that in other hands would be boring or trite, someone I want to reach through to the screen and protect and love.

Or Mi Lan (Ouyang Nana), Snowfall - a tiny, suicidal, abused, seemingly helpless blind girl who decides she needs to protect a deadly ancient vampire as her reason for living and she is unstoppable, fierce and a force of nature in her goal.

NEEDS TO BE MURDERED

99% of the denizens of the town in Tender Light - selfish every day denizens monstrous because of their very everydayness - they watch abuse and choose to blame the victim and gossip and enjoy the view. I hated them all.

BEST BAD GUY

Li Lun (Fangs of Fortune) - with his glorious mane, equally glorious eventual redemption, and incredibly dramatic attitude to a bad breakup, that was a feast.

The Emperor (Joy of Life 2) - a magnetic monster, smartest and the most ruthless character in any scene - Chen Dao Ming gives an insane performance.

Wang Jia Luo (Heroes) - a revolutionary for conservatism, a young man with brains and ideals who gets destroyed by them, who out-Javerts Javert, his descent into villainy and inability to live in the modern complex world, is one of the most compelling and tragic arcs of the drama.

Shen Yurong (The Double) - both repellent and somehow sympathetic, it takes skill to make me feel for a man who tried to bury his wife alive in ep 1. The performance of the whole drama for me.

City Lord (Eternal Brotherhood) - an utterly vile toad of a man, with nothing truly human and yet hiding it under weak and caring facade. I need him taken out.

"HAROLD, THEY ARE LESBIANS" AWARD

Wen Xiao x Pei Sijing, Fangs of Fortune - Duh.

"HOW DID CENSORS NAP THROUGH THIS" AWARD

Vamp Daddy and Loser Li in Snowfall and the entirety of Fangs of Fortune.

MALE LEAD MOST LIKELY TO BE BROUGHT HOME TO MOTHER

No, thank you! The few modern ones she'd not approve of (a mortician with issues? A teenager? A man who had his memories rearranged?) and the period ones are no go since few moms would be keen on wild-eyed, bloodied sons in law however hot and long haired they may be.

FAVORITE SHIP

Dou Zhao x Song Mo, Blossom - one of the most perfectly in sync couples out there, smart, competent, different kinds of damaged, get each other before they love or even trust each other. Your OTP could never. Unless your OTP is them.

Fan Xian x Lin Wan'er, Joy of Life 2 - she is his peace and his haven and the place his busy mind can rest, he is her safety and happiness and ability to live and not exist. They are everything to me.

Shen Li x Xing Zhi, The Legend of Shen Li - the chemistry, the yearning, the slow inevitable collapse into admittance, the way he protects the world and she protects him, the way they dance around each other, her being the aggressor, his surrender to forbidden emotion, their utter mutual belief in each other’s competence. They are everything to me.

Whatever the throuple (with sides?) thing was going on in Fangs of Fortune - I've raved enough about it elsewhere but that was insane in its intensity and gorgeousness and emotion and narrative arcs.

Runner up: the OTP in Derailment - those two went through some mind and soul breaking stuff and made it out.

FAVORITE SECONDARY OTP

Hands down Ruo Wen x Ge Xinwei, Love in the Desert. An amoral, magnetic bandit leader and a princess gone wild on spring break stole the drama utterly. His unhinged energy was so matched by her sfl but with an appropriate target fixation. They made me swoon, laugh and cry.

Amusingly enough, Fu Xin Bo is the male actor in two - the crossdressing sect leader x wolf demon OTP in Sword and Fairy 6, and First Prince x Eldest Princess in Joy of Life 2. What can I say, man knows how to pick them. Those OTPs are both utterly adorable!

If we are talking about an OTP where it’s not that it’s not the main but it’s not a ship-centric drama so they don’t get much time, then we have Si Yilin x Ka Dan, Eternal Brotherhood - they are both such desperately good people in a mad world, tender with each other despite surrounding cruelty and Shen Zhiheng x Mi Lan, Snowfall - a vampire age gap romance done well, the ancient gentleman vampire and the tiny fierce blind girl who decides to protect him.

And of course Qing Geng x Fei, Fangs of Fortune - Ai Mi and Zuo Ye breaking my heart yet AGAIN.

NOTP

The couple in Fox Spirit Matchmaker - such pretty people, and so bland and boring and pointless together. It was kinda amazing.

HOTTEST SCENE

Ka Dan and Si Yilin (Eternal Brotherhood), the primmest, properest OTP of them all, consummate their love without any marriage, but with plenty of golden light.

FAVORITE SCENE

God, so many good scenes this year so far - Fan Xian watching the death of the old censor and the aftermath, in JoL2; his confrontation with Wan'er after she finds out about the truth behind her brother’s death, the scene where he poisons Second Prince, his scene with the registrar. Xiu giving up his future to protect the surrendered soldiers only to come back and find Di Lin executed them all in EB, the scene in Ning’s bedroom when he tells her how he really feels because she can’t hear, the very end of that season and Di Lin striding into the light, Ka Dan and SYL’s letters to each other. XZ literally defying heaven’s lightning and all their longing in Shen Li. The last scene of LYN and his girl in Heroes, the way Heroes always intercuts the golden past of the guard and princess and the dreary present (especially when we see her bicycle spin out of control back when and her husband lose it in the present and this time there is nobody to catch her), the big reveal in Derailment and the hairwashing scene, Mi Lan touching Vamp Daddy’s face as their thing in Snowfall, and the cage stuff, the aborted sex scene in Will Love in Spring, so many scenes in Fangs of Fortune but especially the aftermath on the stairs between ZYC and ZYZ post the latter's loss of control, the final sacrifice,Li Lun x ZYC x ZYZ battle against the bad guy, the whole plague demon storyline, ZYC becoming a demon, ZYZ having to slap himself to nerve himself to walk to his death, everything. And we haven't gotten to it yet, but the scene in all Blossom previews where Song Mo falls to his knees in front of Dou Zhao from a dead run is imprinted in me.

BIGGEST CRUSH

Shen Zhiheng (Gao Weiguang), Snowfall - Vamp Daddy made me hormonal in a way I haven’t felt for a cdrama lead since the heady days of Darren Wang in The Wolf. Those outfits, that hair, that height, that restraint, that lack of restraint. THE CHAINS

BEST SCENE STEALER CHARACTER

Liu Duan Duan as Second Prince in Joy of Life 2 - what a performance! Unhinged, magnetic, pitiable, terrifying and always mesmerizing. The Second Prince is Fan Xian’s foil and a worthy one. LDD is always a great actor, and with a role that actually gives him something to sink his teeth into - wow!

Runner up - Baron Chen in Kill Me Love Me. It's the year of unhinged royal princes, I guess.

BEST COSTUMES AND WIGS

Fangs of Fortune - the whole design is exquisite!

MOST EXTRA OUTFIT

Burning Flames - this drama was a feat of extraness and that meant costumes but even among those, costumes worn by Peter Ho's human king and Jeremy Tsui's psychotic god stood out.

FAVORITE SECONDARY ML

Wu Shan, Blossom - this man is a literal sunshine angel.

MOST BLATANT INNUENDO MOMENT

The Double - As our FL fondles her wet flower petals in the bath, our ML wields and swings his giant sword shirtless in the rain. That was eye popping.

FAVORITE 2024 CDRAMA SONG

This Chen Xueran song from Eternal Brotherhood:

MVP OF THE YEAR

Liu Xueyi (In Blossom, Kill Me Love Me) - this is the year LXY finally achieved leading man status and he was spectacular in both of his outings - so very different in both but equally magnetic in either even if the dramas themselves had flaws. I have a new fave!

ACTING SURPRISE

Ouyang Nana - Li Muge performs miracles. He made Yang Chaoye be good in Heroes (2022) and now Nana, who was always as wooden as a post, is a revelation as blind abused girl who becomes a vampire in Snowfall.

Hou Minghao - I've always found HMH a stunningly beautiful man and a thoroughly bland actor. But he was surprisingly solid in Dashing Youth and utterly blew me away in Fangs of Fortune. Like jaw on the floor level blown away.

Wang Hongyi - found him bland as paint in LYF (both seasons) but his Yang Kang in Condor Heroes blew me away and then he repeated that feat as a very different character in a very different drama (Snowy Night.) Consider me a new fan.

NEEDS A SEQUEL

Joy of Life 2 of course - I need to see the looming confrontation between Fan Xian and the emperor, though not sure how that will pass censorship.

NEEDS SCISSORS TAKEN TO IT

FF button has cured me of finding contenders for this category, but perhaps cutting out a lot of terrible acting and lack of stage presence of “not yet a eunuch” dude in The Princess Royal, would have improved it.

TOO MANY SCISSORS TAKEN TO IT

Lost You Forever 2 - there were other issues with it, but all the cuts couldn’t have helped with coherency.

TROPE THAT NEEDS TO DIE

Same as last year - the emperor cannot be irredeemable. WTF, China, you are a communist country! Though they are nibbling at the edges this year. Also fake feminism - I am all for girl power but not when it's ridiculously anachronistic for the period with no explanation at all. And finally NO MORE TRADE DRAMAS PLS PLS PLS

FAVORITE TROPE WE’VE SEEN A LOT OF

Men (and women) knowingly fighting for a doomed cause because otherwise they’d cease to be who they are. Or if we are being shallow all the beautiful men in chains.

BIGGEST DISAPPOINTMENT

Lost Your Forever 2 - the first season was my favorite drama of 2023 but LYF2 just fell apart so so so badly, it was almost fascinating. It totally eviscerated the characters and the meanings of the story.

BIGGEST GOOD SURPRISE

So many of top dramas on my list are not dramas that were on my radar at all before airing - Heroes, Eternal Brotherhood, Fangs of Fortune, Will Love in Spring and Snowfall were not anything I anticipated, let alone I realized how much I’d love them. Same for Derailment and Tender Light. This has been a year of surprises.

2024 DRAMAS I HAVEN’T SEEN THAT I MOST WANT TO WATCH

I have honestly watched everything I wanted.

BEST NON-2024 DRAMA I’VE WATCHED IN 2024

Lighter and Princess, hands down. I rarely even enjoy moderns and this one made it into my Top 5 cdrama of all time. This is how you make a love story. This is literally perfect. PERFECT.

Runner up: Strange Tales of Tang Dynasty - I, a procedural and mystery hater (especially when there is close to no romance) somehow fell like a ton of bricks for this gorgeous, smart, impeccably acted show.

MOST ANTICIPATED

A Dream Within a Dream looks like Fortune Writer with proper length and budget, Legend of the Female General looks epic and I love the novel, Divine Tree with Deng Wei is all my fave tropes, Veil of Shadows is peak Guo Jingming, and so many more.

[mysteryanimator]

Breaking down "Even the Iron Still Fears the Rot" (almost) shot by shot!

The fan-animatic can be viewed here!

HEADS UP: This is a fan-made content. I am a fan. I just love Castlevania/animation a lot and I love storyboarding nuances and making people cry over character dynamics. Also apologises for any grammatical/spelling mistakes!

I wasn't planning to do another breakdown of my own work, simply due to imposter syndrome but I genuinely put so much love and care into this animatic! I want to talk about it! Also, people have been really open to hearing about my inspiration and notes, and why I take the directions I do for my work, even if it's fan-made, so here we go!

(Also the reciprocation of my animatics has been so kind and uplifting, and I'm really glad that there's a lot of love for them as much as I love doing them! I learn and grow with every single board I make, it's been really fun! I hope I get to shine this much passion in the future in actual work!)

Since this is also an adaptation of a fan one-shot by Aquila, (which you can read here!) I knew I wanted to evoke what they had written and interject some of my own nuances/personal readings to their story to elevate what they had! In turn, kind of created this monster (positive) of a fan creation haha. There are some changes/rearranging the placement of aspects of the one-shot to strengthen the existing tension going on!

With this out the way, let's begin!

(heads up, for any shots I completely skip over, it is because I'm reaching image limits here)

I wanted to evoke that strong halo light you see in a lot of media. Often than not, this visual is used to depict the character as a divine force of nature and/or when a character is bobbing in and out of death. It can also be a very very terrifying image, as, for example, s02e8, Mizrak is literally all dark with a brightly lit background. It is scary- BUT people will say hot because it's Mizrak but hey, look, all I can say is I fully understand haha. It all depends on your intentionality and what follows before and after to give context to your scene!

Mizrak is dead. Well, undead now. Olrox is the so-called angel giving him life and love and this halo of light gets repeated a few times!

By the end, not only do their literal positions switch, but their roles shift too so I hoped to convey that visually by also giving Mizrak that halo glow for the second last shot. At the start, Olrox consumes Mizrak’s love, and then it ends with Mizrak consuming Olrox’s love. Guh I love blood themes in vamprisim.

This shot honestly took me a bit to do, since I was going a lot cleaner than usual, the expression for Mizrak was super important for me to get right. I wanted him to look like he was about to die- yet still have an unwavering amount of life in him. (Also I hadn't warmed up drawing in this cleaned-up style so it definitely was me messing around). It was important for me for this to feel like a POV shot to contrast the first scene so we can get inside the mind of Olrox!

This too is where I only have sound effects since I can't have voice so I limit my SFX to the only most vital things to elevate things I personally find better elevate the scene with audio. It only happens TWICE. The heartbeat. His wrist is shown and from context clues from not only S01 of Nocturne with Tera's turning, but a whole bunch of other vampire media- the wrist is a place where the dead accept their new life of immortality!

Also, the pulse effect was definitely inspired by the transformation of Sekmet! I'm not sure personally if this went to a further stage I'd want to keep this since I'd personally want something more unique for vampire turning, more specifically for Olrox, HOWEVER, I think it still does a good job conveying the supernatural pull for the time being!

Wow who saw this coming HAHA

Immediately when I saw the line where Olrox said he went to straddle him immediately, my mind went to go and try to parallel this scene again! I don't have much to say about this shot rather than the feet are purposefully cut out for animation convenience's sake HAHA.

Jumpscare for sudden Olrox character layout (even though he's really off model and sketchy here HAHA)

I was again, wanting to depict Olrox BATHED in light and since this animatic is purely in greyscale (with accents of colour), I could really push for dramatic lighting when it called for it! This is also why some of the scenes just do not have backgrounds at all. I wanted to make some of the scenes as "heavenly" as possible and for Mizrak to be embraced by the light because Olrox is giving him a new a life.

If this were to ever be animated (I won't be since it would take too much of my time, but it's still a good thing to note when boarding anything... maybe I'll do cleaned screenshots since those are a breeze, or animate ONE scene from this animatic... we'll see what I have time for. I unfortunately don't have proper time to try and figure out the layout of s02e8 bgs and paint them. I did consider quickly doing a 3d mock-up but no haha), the light in the background can probably be lit with candles since it was already pre-established in s02e8! Also, the windows can reflect light into the room so there's that too since Mizrak was backlit in that episode too!

Fun fact, this entire scene was the first thing I ever thought up and why I started even making it. I thought about how cool of a visual it would be to have Mizrak's eye in the reflection.

I wanted to imbue the fact that Mizrak does not fear Olrox holding a blade, hell, he's not even looking at the blade. He's looking at Olrox. What is described as a relic from a terrifying past, Mizrak is not scared. Mizrak is not scared of Olrox.

This is where the heartbeat occurs AGAIN. This is mostly to signal to the audience what Olrox actually has planned. He's not feeding Mizrak from his wrist but from his actual chest, especially with how gently Olrox runs his hands over it.

I debated a lot on where the initial cut should go. The heart, for sentimentality, under the breast in the same way Christ had been pierced, etc etc- however I landed on just dead set in the middle so it could form a cross that would grow bigger and bigger as the animatic went on. (Fun fact, the blob of blood turns into a little heart as he squeezes his chest)

I wanted to put some weight to the repressed catholic guilt, so I thought a cool visual way to showcase that Mizrak has only known how to love is via worshipping God which has consumed his entire being and self. God has given him faith, a companion in the hardest of times when the world has abandoned him.

Now, once again, his world has abandoned him. The Hospitaller Order of Saint John of God is gone. In the face of death and fearing the devil will be waiting. Olrox has given him love, and he will be a companion in the hardest of times. He will not abandon Mizrak.

This aspect of the cross in the animatic gets expanded upon as time goes on. Both literally as the cross literally turns into a pool of blood more closely to the symbol Mizrak bares, but also it slowly expands upon Mizrak feeding off Olrox's love! I'll add some more of my personal notes when we get there!

Also by far one of my favourite scenes I've drawn. It's still rough but it decidedly made me go a lot cleaner with the rest of the storyboard!

This is supposed to be suddenly jarring because it cuts midway through Olrox in a midshot to a close-up of a hand! We need to see him actively halt Olrox for just a moment, but also to show that even when it's sudden- its not hostile, it's gentle.

This shot does a couple of things!

It showcases how gently Mizrak is reaching out to Olrox

It helps to continually establish Mizrak submission to vampirism. He is constantly placed on the bottom from the composition, or we as an audience, are always looking down at Mizrak! Seeing parts of Olrox here really cements this fact as Olrox towers over him to the point we don't even see him fully!

It helps to lead into the Fallen Angel reference!

This shot makes me sob because it is so gentle. Despite being placed constantly much higher in the composition in the animatic, therefore making him the most powerful in this dynamic- in no way Olrox is intentionally made out to be an intimidating figure. He is comfort. He is a companion. He will not abandon Mizrak. The act of turning Mizrak might be read as selfish. It may be read as cheating the natural cycle of life, it may be everything wrong and doomed as your mind makes it to be, however, it is done out of love. Morals, whether good or bad, no longer matters because Olrox is in love. Love has such a strong chokehold on this series, so I'm shoving as much love into these characters as I can. Both literally make these characters so sickly desiring love that it will be their doom and saving grace, but also me as an artist deeply putting love and thought into this board because care a lot about how to convey these complex emotions! Sure it is quite easy to churn out boards without care, but without putting care into your boards, your characters and stories lack life (in my personal opinion).

Immediately, this animatic shook me and told me to put in a reference to The Fallen Angel by Alexandre Cabnel!

Also, how does one portray the soul? EYES. Eyes are the window to the soul. Mizrak’s eyes are also considerably the most important/crucial part of his design. His eyes in both seasons ‘glow in the dark’ due to the highlights in his eyes. Mizrak is considerably really emotive too and that was important to me to emphasize. I wanted to capture his essence, his soul if you will, into this shot.

This is also why this shot is done really prettily if you will.

The reflection of Olrox's eye in Mizrak's is important here! Olrox is here to act to comfort Mizrak. Even when Olrox is not on the screen with us, he is majorly present here. He will not abandon Mizrak. Also, since it is coupled with this line, people can choose to infer what they wish with Olrox! It can symbolize Olrox does have a soul, it can symbolize how Olrox and Mizrak are now intertwined together, it can symbolize Mizrak reciprocating Olrox's love. The list can go on! I give that room for open interpretation (same as the rest of the animatic, the only reason I'm going through, breaking down almost shot by shot is that I deeply care about this sort of thing, and I know other people do too!)

This shot, is deceptively simple but it's here to actually initiate a bunch of scenes I wanted to happen after this!

Firstly, I needed a very nonchalant but easy way for Olrox to let go of Mizrak's hand without needing to overcomplicate. I needed something that gave it just enough importance for the hand kiss BUT not too much where it is the sole focus on the shot.

Secondly, I needed a way for Olrox to lean down to Mizrak and initiate him being way closer to him.

Thirdly, it acts to parallel another shot that happens with Mizrak where instead of going diagonally down, he goes diagonally up!

This is one of the points where I visually slightly deviate from the one-shot! I really REALLY wanted to emphasize Olrox's dialogue here so I chopped up and elongated the scene to make it that much more intense and tender. Which is why we get the next two close up shots!

Look it was very VERY important to me to have Olrox cup Mizrak's face and intentionally cut off his eyes. The important part I wanted to focus on solely was his hand and Mizrak looking up because genuinely, Mizrak's eyes are 'distracting' and it would remove the focus on the gesture! Also I am saving Mizrak's eyes for the next shot haha

After this shot too, you may notice the blood from his neck disappears for the rest of the animatic. This is because, after this, it began to take too much of a visual focus away from the blood on Olrox's chest since it is bright red against greys in the shot. We can chalk it up to Olrox wiping the blood off when he goes to cup him.

"The most beautiful soul a vampire can posses."

It was so important to me that we get a BEAUTIFUL shot of Mizrak. I needed the audience to see his entireeee face close up, unobscured by anything. Olrox is holding a beautiful soul in his hands. He's holding Mizrak. Actually makes me sob.

This shot by the way has been repeated 3 times with slight variations by this point. Yes, this is a very pretty shot so how could I not help but repeat it? HOWEVER, I was trying to make a reference to how Mizrak has said Olrox's name only 3 times in the show with a variation of what was said around it. After that, Olrox calls him my love, basically unlocking a new stage in their relationship.

So here, three times when he looks at Olrox, he's mentally calling out his name. After this, Olrox brings him to a new stage in the relationship.

Also in Catholicism, a lot of things are in 3s. One of the major ones is that three times, Christ fell over carrying the cross. On the third hour of that day, he died and on the third day, he was resurrected from the dead. The three sacraments that welcome someone into the Kingdom of God are Baptism, Communion, and Confirmation as they all build off one another! I could go on both those are the main points AND I feel you might get the gist now!

It was very important to me that when Olrox makes this promise, we HAVE to see his full face. This is why it's a close-up.

It lets for no shadow of a doubt that Olrox means what he says here. He's looking AT Mizrak. He's telling the truth to him.

This is a parallel to a much earlier shot of Olrox! He moves closer to Mizrak by going from top right to bottom left, while Mizrak moves closer to Olrox by going from bottom left to top right! You also both see them exit the screen too!

In this shot, we bring back that halo vibe but also this is a reference to S01E04 and S02E08! The curtain! It is BOTH their first-ever shots to establish a new scene, so I wanted to go “Hey this is establishing a new scene- a new life for Mizrak and Olrox.”

The camera is super purposefully cut just below the eyes. You can see them open then closed, but we will never ever get to see the look he had in his eyes, the single decision in his brain that let him indulge. That’s only for Olrox, and only Olrox will know.

From here on out, A LOT of the shots of Mizrak get segmented/have his face hidden for that reason too (except for one shot, also done intentionally).

When Mizrak actually closes his lips around the blood- it’s on the growling sound in the song. Mizrak has turned into the animal that he’s been calling vampires. In this new life, he is now given the choice to be freed from the man-made shackles of shame and guilt. To be untamed and unrestricted. A wild animal so to speak!

Honestly, I spent a lot of my time here (besides the pretty Olrox frames) because I was super particular about how I wanted to portray Mizrak giving into sucking the blood. The way he accepts vampirism is vital because it sets the tone and mood for how the rest of the board feel since his face gets hidden and you now have to infer from when you saw his face last.

If you have seen my analyses or my work before, you will know how much I enjoy having a frame within a frame. I loveeee my boxes! They're in the box! TOGETHER! THE CENTER TOO! There are no real divisions with the exception of Olrox's head which is important because it's not Mizrak we're focused on at this point in time, it's Olrox~

This is because the one-shot, even in third person, is mostly through Olrox's perspective!

Also, the camera is moving around in this shot, and the following subsequent shots! It hopefully gives off the "hand-held" feel, which often is associated with feeling as if you're right there in the moment with them.

Why pillows?

This is me shaking you to say how the blood-drinking is an allusion for sex if that wasn't already obvious enough. So showing pillows coupled with Olrox groaning really goes "Yes they are technically doing it."

Originally this shot (and the previous shot) was supposed to be way more pulled out, but I was saving it for the very last shot of the animatic so I went to pillows with the tinest hint of their body in the frame to make it seem super scandalous. Like what on earth could they be doing for me to cut them mostly out of the frame? Also also, the pillow was supposed to have an embroidery of a painting from 1790s or earlier BUT, for the life of me, I could not decide what I wanted and I did not want to keep reusing the same references I have had in past work. I didn't want to fuss about it for too long since its more of an easter egg rather than adding to the story. The main point is pillow = fucking HAHA.

Side tangent, you can get away with SO MUCH by having blood drinking be an allusion to sex. Like obviously when you have an age rating you must abide by, you must be creative with how you go about mature topics (my age rating is YouTube hahaha)! Not only is blood drinking in vampirism just inherently queer-coded, but the intimacy of it can convey so much more if it was just a regular ol' sex scene! I actually deeply enjoy conveying nsfw topics into art because you can discuss character dynamics at a much more vulnerable, raw state that literally bares them to just their essence and their current desires/needs. However I am getting off-topic, let's get back to it!

This shot was actually heavily inspired by the statue Adoration by Stephen Sinding!

While there are a lot of differences now simply because Mizrak is at Olrox's chest, I still hope that the vibe of that statue is still imbued. It also gives the sense of not only Olrox adoring Mizrak in this very moment, but Mizrak is too despite not seeing his face. Again quite intentional because it's only for Olrox to see.

Also, a lot of people have been telling me how Olrox is breastfeeding him, and in technicality, they're not wrong, he's feeding blood, from his chest. It is the funniest thing ever LOL

This shot was important to really focus in on his throat and how, much like in the one-shot, Mizrak is literally not taking breaths and is just continually consuming Olrox.

Wet sounds fill the room as his throat bobs with each steady gulp...He doesn’t stop, doesn’t take a moment to gasp for breath.

I also just wanted to make this scene feel very slow in order to contrast with a much more passion-filled desire that consumes Mizrak in this animatic! Also hopefully the descent of blood and the descent of the camera helps to strengthen the idea of Mizrak descending into vampirism!

It felt really cheesy to have this close-up shot of his eye HOWEVER at the time, I thought this was by far the clearest way to convey the immediate switch from gentle devotion to devouring devotion and how suddenly rapid it is. In my brain, the stylization for his eyes open would be textured and pulse in the same way Olrox's wrist did, which is why it's just outlined. I'm once again not 100% set on the pulse look and it probably needs some iterations if I ever came back to it again.

Also, the green hearts in his eyes only come through when he's actively consuming blood from his chest! The heart motif comes back later when Mizrak ends up throwing up the blood!

Here's the cross again, except it is growing bigger. This was very important to me that you see how "gentle" the blood-sucking is at first. A gentle devotion despite the "terrifying" shadow of Mizrak. Also, super an excuse to have kiss marks in my animatic, I love painting them in my art because it can say a lot with placement and how aggressively smudged they are!

Also, I thought it would be SO FUN to have Mizrak's turned self literally have his eyes overlay where Olrox's eyes are. It conveys how Mizrak and Olrox are now switching roles in this animatic! For the first half of this animatic, Olrox has been placed pretty high up in the shot composition, or where the camera looks up to put him in a high place of power! It makes him appear way more etheral and otherworldly, while Mizrak was placed lower in the composition, always looking up at him! Which I'm hoping invokes religious imagery of a God and his worshipper/follower!

When Mizrak's transformation is set, the dynamic switches up. For the rest of the animatic, Mizrak is now placed at a more supernatural/otherwordly position, while Olrox is just there passively, letting Mizrak BE in this position. He does not fight it, he embraces it, embraces how Mizrak reciprocates his love, his desire, and all his messy complications, much like how earlier in the animatic, Mizrak embraces vampirism.

Also if you slow it down enough you can see how I accidentally left my perspective grids in it HAHA, but it goes by fast enough it doesn't really matter! (I guess it's also kind of indicative of my natural style when it comes to digital painting too, I genuinely like having my sketch still peek through into the final painting!)

Wow even more shots to cement the new role switch AND how much much of the passionate need to consume is controlling his urges! Free to consume at his leisure, he is no longer bound by human nature (for now)!

This shot and his leg shot help to really strip Mizrak of his humanity. Faces in a shot really help to connect people to the characters because we see the emote, we see them breathe, we see them live. Especially for a character like Mizrak? He's super expressive face-wise and I'm purposefully not showing you the defining features of Mizrak. Here I am basically going "Mizrak is no longer human."

This is why in horror/thrillers with antagonist characters, we don't see their faces much and are saved for only key moments (usually, again your intentionality matters). It doesn't allow us to connect with the character on a much more human level. Think of Count Orlok from Nosferatu (2024). Purposefully a lot of his character is shrouded in darkness, focusing on his hands and other aspects, never his face, and even then it is really hard to make out because so much of him is obscured. It makes him that much of an imposing intimidating character! Otherworldly and something that we cannot fully understand.

This is a flipped version of Mizrak's close-up eye shot much earlier when he asked if his soul would remain. Again to hark on how Mizrak and Olrox are switching roles in this animatic! Olrox is looking at Mizrak's soul as we speak.

Despite us not seeing Mizrak's face, we as an audience noticing how unhuman Mizrak has suddenly become, Olrox looks quite gently at him and that was important to convey!

Woo! Lot's of horizontal lines here! While the camera is moving towards the left, Mizrak is moving right!

Originally this shot was going to have Mizrak's teeth sinking into Olrox like a very cool Olrox throwing his head back and Mizrak's fang reveal HOWEVER, I want to leave the "carnage" and bloodshed of the feeding out of the frame and only have it show up in very specific moments so I can have those moments actually have their proper impacts. I did not want to show any part of the front of his face at all since it would dampen the effect later on, so I opted for this instead. The legs give a sense of "something is happening but we don't know what, but it's to a point where Mizrak's entire body is moving oh jeez." Won't lie, this looks very sexual and I'm purposefully toying with that line again because blood drinking is an allusion to sex.

Also, I'm continuing the concept of having aspects of Mizrak's face only for Olrox's eyes. What does he look like when he's actively consuming him with such passion? Idk, Olrox you tell me.

This is everything I was building up for when I introduced the small crosses! The physical manifestation of how Mizrak reciprocates.

My thought process here was that Mizrak only knows how to love by fully devoting himself because that's all he's done for God. So he applies it here. He is reciprocating love, but it is FULL ON. It is intense. It is all-consuming.

The face once again is obscured for all the reasons I have mentioned before, but also it REALLY helps to really hard cut to Mizrak choking on the blood after because before it seemed like he was doing just fine. He is literally looking DOWN at Olrox, he takes up A LOT of the screen with just his back and head. He literally gets pulled into full focus while Olrox is blurred in the background. He appears like he is in control of the situation, however it could not be further from the truth.

Also, I was mostly inspired by the insane amount of bible verses talking about blood, so I'll drop some of those here!

John 6:53-56 ESV

So Jesus said to them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day. For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him.

Ezekiel 16:6 ESV 

“And when I passed by you and saw you wallowing in your blood, I said to you in your blood, ‘Live!’ I said to you in your blood, ‘Live!’

Matthew 26:28 ESV

"For this is my [Christ's] blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins."

Absolute contrast to most of the other shots, not only because I decided to add way more character acting here, but it's because we actually see his FULL face. It's intentional because Mizrak realizes himself now so we need to see him have this reaction. I wanted to show that he is still a person. He still has a soul. He may not be human, but he does have a mind that can think and a heart that can love. He still retains human qualities.

He's choking on all the blood (a physical manifestation of love) and his body is rejecting it. He's not used to consuming this amount of love and he's not used to being self-indulgent. It's deeply overwhelming.

I wanted to say I LOVED drawing blood it is SO FUN, planning the camera movement, and how Mizrak coughs at specific moments was sooo fun. I wanted this to be MESSY AND INTENSE. I wanted the audience to feel the weight of Mizrak's sudden distraught. I wanted to throw him around and to really hark on this line from the one-shot.

What has he done? What has been done to him? What has he become?

It helps to deeply contrast with how still and gentle the next scene is!

Yes, that is right, Olrox's pupils are DILATED :)

Coupled with the fact that the blood splatters are hearts! They're outlined in cyan! Olrox has a massive heart-shaped blood splatter on his cheek while Mizrak has a few heart-shaped splatters BUT there are gaps in his bloodied mouth that create heart shapes as if Mizrak spewed out those hearts!

Firstly this is because Mizrak literally eats at his chest where the heart is. Secondly, I'm again pushing for Mizrak to consume and throw up his love due to how overwhelming it is. Not only is Olrox's love for him literally beyond his imagination, but Mizrak is trying to love back in with that same amount of passion and utter devotion. A lot is happening for this new-born vampire that is pushing and pulling at him. His emotional state is so overwhelming that it is manifested in physical form.

The green reflections are shown to visually communicate Olrox anchoring Mizrak back, as, throughout the animatic, it is one of the things that ease or calm him down. I could not portray it through voice BUT I can portray it via visual (guys walk with me here, imagine the insane combo of audio and visual, it would be so tasty). The sole reason why I did not have hearts in his eyes here is simply because I reserved the heart motif for when he's actively drinking out of Olrox's chest (so he's literally consuming his love) or when he's spitting out the blood!

Also, the reason why I cut to his eyes rather than pan to them is purely because I wanted the violence of his mouth to be suddenly jarring to the gentleness in his eyes. I didn't want the slow reveal, I wanted the "OMG the blood- aw Mizrak...."

"Lulled into a sense of hazy compliance by Olrox’s voice, the former monk carefully lowers himself and continues though not for long."

This final shot was soooo important to me to include. The “musty inn room” was mentioned much earlier during Mizrak’s transformation but there was a poeticism by having what is considerably the blossoming moment of their complicated relationship be the final shot. With the lyrics also ending with "Take me back to Eden" how could I not? Clearly, both the rooms between s01e4 and s02e8 are parallel to each other. The only difference is that s02e8 has the room be both red AND GREEN, while s01e4 is just earthy/green. Olrox has taken them both back to their earthly paradise. This is their Garden of Eden.

Woo ok and we're done! Also yes I do thumbnails for these, it's half the reason why I'm fast (this entire animatic, cleaned and everything, was done in 3 days good lord. Is that fast? I can't tell) I make the barest of bones chicken scratch of sketches to get a feel of pace/vibe, then I do my roughs/cleans and add/take away shots necessary for the story that needs to be told. I normally would not let this see the light of day because these are AWFUL BUT, this post is also half a documentation of my personal process so I'm going to close my eyes and share this HAHA

If you got this far, thank you for reading me geek out about this! I find a lot of joy in the visual storytelling medium. As much as I do enjoy animating, (wow could you guys tell in the name?) I have a deep love and passion for storyboarding personally and I get sit back, and enjoy crafting the entire picture! I still have a long way to go but I'm having fun and I'm pursuing my passions of storytelling!

I desperately want to make more animatics, dealing with different tones, pace etc, but I genuinely have to go prioritize other things for now that will help me build these skills hahaha. I say this but who knows, seeing my current track record haha, look I can do both. I follow wherever my creativity takes me. I may have missed a few things but I have to wrap this up now!

Thank you again! The final takeaway, go watch Castlevania again and go be inspired by animation <33333