#He was literally the last person to have his plot followed up and resolved

[incognit0slut]

Lose Control

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Spencer finds himself locked in a room with his rival. Based on:

warning: 18+ explicit content including oral (both), hair-pulling, chocking, and unprotected, semi-public, hate sex

words: 6.8k (I'm a smut-with-a-plot kind of person)

a/n: this is not enemies to lovers. This is, quite frankly, enemies to (fuckable) enemies. Also, we hit 1.2k followers!! Tysm!! I legit made this blog 2 months ago that’s crazyyy😳

MASTERLIST

“…mind games until you lose control…”

CHANGE WAS INEVITABLE WHEN IT CAME TO HIS WORK. Spencer encountered many great people walking through the door of the bureau throughout the years he worked as a profiler. Most of them he genuinely liked, and most of them he considered more than mere colleagues. But from all the people he had to work with, there was one person he really couldn't stand.

"Move out of the way, Reid, you're blocking the way."

He turned to see the last person he wanted to indulge in standing close to him, a hand on her hip and a frown on her face. "There is literally enough space for you to pass through."

"And jeopardize myself by touching you?" She wrinkled her nose. "I think I'll pass."

His gaze, usually warm and welcoming, hardened into a steely resolve. It pierced through her like an icy dagger, radiating an unmistakable contempt. He then backed away, walking further into the room that held rows of shelving units lining up the space. "What are you even doing here?"

"Well, ever since we found the victim's body surrounded by those cryptic signs, it reminded me of the cult massacre which happened in—"

"St. Joseph, 1947," he finished.

"Yeah, although this isn't mass murder, I thought the nature of the death was very similar to that old case." He could practically hear the smugness in her voice as she continued, "I also knew you'd be here and wanted to beat you to it."

His gaze settled on her standing by the door. "I don't think that's going according to plan considering I was here before you arrived."

"Please, you just got here. I bet I can find the files before you do."

His brows furrowed. How could he not feel some kind of disdain when she was acting the way she was? One might say he was acting too immature for his age, for a man who was close to pushing forty he did consider himself too old for petty fights. But it was hard to keep his composure when she was often the one taunting him, ridiculing him with that haughty mouth of hers.

It was better to ignore her presence completely, so he did just that, focusing his attention on the files in front of him as she stepped into the room.

She frowned, feeling her throat clenching before coughing out loud as dust particles greeted her entrance. She was busy trying to swat the specks of dust away from her face when something solid suddenly nudged her feet. Her eyes swept towards the floor.

"Why is this massive book laying here?" She picked up the thick paperback and read its title. "The Anatomy of Motive?"

Spencer's head snapped in an alert. "Wait! Don't—"

But it was too late. The old wooden door hanging loosely on its rusted hinges creaked without any support to keep it ajar, and with a resounding thud, it closed, the sound echoing through the stagnant air. "I put that there for a reason," he grumbled. "And now we're stuck here."

She leaned forward and wrapped her hand around the handle, trying to yank the door open. The panic on her face was evident when it didn't budge. "Shit."

"You can only open it from the other side."

She turned towards him. "Do you have your phone with you?"

"No."

She groaned because her own device was also securely tucked in her bag. Not wanting to be locked in a room with the last person she wanted to be with, she started pounding on the door frantically. "Help! Penelope! Luke!" Bang. Bang. "Anyone!"

"Nobody's going to hear you."

She tuned him out.

"Emily! JJ!" She pressed herself against the door, drawing her mouth close towards the tiny gap between the wooden panel and the wall. "Help! We're locked in!" She suddenly caught his movement from the corner of her eyes and turned to him, noticing the way he was already studying a file.

"What are you doing?"

He slipped back the document into the cabinet and went through the other folders. "Might as well work until they realize we're gone."

She straightened herself and glanced at the watch around her wrist. "But it's late. What if everyone's gone home and we're stuck here for the night?" A thought struck her and she looked up in horror. "Or for days?"

"Then you have yourself to blame."

She glared at him. "You're not helping."

Spencer looked up to see her jaw clenching, accentuating the sharp angles of her face. Her normally composed features, so delicately balanced, now seemed to unravel in a heat of fury. It was the only expression she held every time she had to deal with him.

He glanced away and focused back on his task. "Don't worry, we have a team of competent profilers. If they can find dangerous criminals throughout the country, they can also find their two missing agents."

She considered his words and acknowledged the truth behind them, so she reluctantly moved to the other side of the room, going through the shelves opposite of him. The space went completely still as they both went through the stack of folders shelved between the old cabinets. It wasn't until curiosity got the better of him that he finally looked up, his eyes falling onto her form.

Her back was facing him, giving him a view of her tousled hair falling down over her shoulders. His eyes involuntarily trailed the contours of her body, betraying a mixture of intrigue and curiosity. His gaze lingered upon the gentle curve of her shoulder, the graceful line of her spine, and the sway of her hips as she moved onto the next shelf, her steps echoing through the silence and it was then he realized she was wearing heels.

Again.

This wasn't the first time she decided to wear shoes that looked very uncomfortable to wear. Who even wore heels in this line of work? Being an FBI agent meant you had to be quick on your feet because anything could happen unexpectedly. He once voiced out his opinion on this matter, which she only answered with, "My choice of clothing won't reduce the capability of my brain, Reid. You and I are still doctors even if I wear a bathing suit to work."

"It's not about your choice of clothing, it's about being practical."

"That's why I keep a pair of sneakers in my drawers,” she had haughtily replied, then narrowed her eyes at him. "And don't comment on my shoes when I've held myself from judging on your ugly cardigans."

His cardigans were not ugly.

He shook the memory away as eyes roamed over her again, noticing her very exposed legs. She was also wearing a skirt today, something she often did and something he never dared to have an opinion on, knowing she would probably bite his head off if he did.

"Stop staring at me."

Spencer cleared his throat at being caught. "I wasn't."

"I could practically feel your eyes on me." She looked over her shoulder. "I have great spidey senses."

There was a sudden pause. "Spidey senses?"

"Yeah, like Spiderman." When he didn't respond, she turned around and faced him. "Please tell me you know who Spiderman is?"

When he returned her gaze with a frown, she couldn't help but laugh, turning her back towards him again. "You know this is why people like me better than you. We both may be smart, but you got to admit, my knowledge doesn't simply stop on academics."

He should've been offended by her words, he should've countered back a vile reply, but her voice became white noise to him as he watched her body leaning down, picking up a document that slipped from her grasp. His eyes caught the way the tight skirt clung to her form like a second skin. The fabric, stretched taut against her curves, highlighted the alluring lines of her figure. The skirt's snug fit caressed her thighs, tracing their slender form and hinting at the softness beneath.

This wasn't the first time he noticed her beauty in this type of way, beneath all that glare she often carried whenever he was around her, he knew she was an attractive woman. It was her personality that often stopped him from marveling this insight. But being in this closed, tight space, Spencer was forced to study her, and with the way his body was reacting, he knew his lingering stare was more than simple admiration.

He could feel his blood pulsing down south, tightening underneath the confinement of his pants.

As she straightened herself, she felt a sudden shift in the atmosphere. She turned her head and noticed his eyes training on her body.

"You're still staring." She then caught a glimpse of something unguarded in his gaze, something that was definitely far from hatred. Her mind whirled with questions, trying to decipher the meaning behind it. "Stop looking at me like that."

A hint of a smile played on his lips. "Like what?"

"Like you either want to strangle me or—"

"Or?" He prompted.

Like you want to eat me alive.

It was the only way she could describe it. She was aware of how his eyes usually pierced her, how every movement she made or word she uttered could trigger this immense disdain radiating from him. But now the weight of his gaze bore down upon her, casting a palpable heat that danced across her skin. Something had changed, and she felt it in the intensity of his eyes, so different from the usual hostility she had come to expect.

They held a predatory gleam as if he could pounce on her at any moment.

“If I hadn't known you better," she carefully spoke, watching as he took a step towards her, and she took one back, bumping into the wall. "I'd say you're trying to flirt with me with those eyes."

"Me? Flirt with you?" He cocked an eyebrow. "Don't flatter yourself."

She scoffed, squaring her shoulders as he closed the distance between them. "You're right. What was I thinking? You can't even flirt to live."

"You don't even know how I flirt."

"Reid, I've seen you flirt," she said between fits of laughter. "Remember you tried getting that cop's number? You were stuttering and suddenly giving her facts about oil paintings. Paintings."

"She had an interest in fine art," he stated. "And if you must know, after giving those informative facts, I told that no amount of art could ever compare to her beauty as a compliment.”

She snorted, shaking her head in disbelief. "And that actually worked? She gave you her number?"

"No." Then a smirk curled on his lips. "But she did come home with me."

She frowned. That was new information. She never really thought about what went on in his love life, but hearing him implying his active sex life had her feeling strange. "She did?"

He took another step forward. "If I hadn't known you better," he carefully spoke, mimicking her words before. "I'd say you're jealous."

She tilted her head up and scowled at him. "Even if you were the last person on this planet I wouldn't consider breathing in the same air with you."

She waited for his response, but he didn't even seem to be bothered by her words. And as they stood there, holding each other's gaze, she became acutely aware of everything; their close proximity, the warmth radiating from his body, and the rise and fall of his chest. His unfamiliar scent lingered in the air, a distinct combination of earthy musk and a hint of something indefinable. She had never allowed herself to notice it before, but now it was impossible to ignore.

Her eyes then traced the lines on his face, sharp jaw, high cheekbones, and finally settled on his eyes. At first, she thought her eyes was deceiving her, but she knew exactly what held behind his gaze. It was the same expression she saw in all her past lovers. It wouldn’t have surprised her to see the same intensity on other men, but to see it on him? The guy who had always hated her guts the moment she corrected his statistic rants the first time they met?

Spencer fucking Reid?

It was too much for her to handle. She was used to his piercing gaze, his evident disdain. Not this. It became almost overwhelming that she decided to step away.

Just as she turned to retreat from the intensity of his gaze, her body froze as she felt warm fingers gripping her wrist. The contact sent a jolt through her body and her eyes snapped back at him. "What the hell are you doing?"

Ah, there it was, that hatred she was looking for blazing in his eyes again. "You see, I don't like you."

"Good." She held her chin up. "The feeling's mutual."

"You think you're better than everybody else, you think you're better than me."

She was about to retort another response when he suddenly yanked her, a gasp leaving her mouth. "But somehow I can’t help myself from wanting to taste you.”

Then it happened so fast. One moment she was trying to register what was happening, the next thing she knew his lips were on hers, moving frantically in desperate hunger. She couldn't believe he was actually kissing her. It also burned her up inside to find he was good at it. She wanted him to be all teeth and awkward so she could sneer at him and push him away, but he was holding her face in his hands like they hadn't spent months sniping at each other.

A turmoil of thoughts swarmed her mind—What are you doing? Why are you kissing him back? What the hell is wrong with you?—while she gripped onto his arm as a pleased sigh slipped through her mouth before she could catch it.

He slowly pulled away from her, eyes glittering in mischief. "Would you look at that?" he muttered, gripping her jaw and tilting her face like he was appraising her. "All bark and no bite."

She shoved his hands away from her face, ignoring how nice it had felt, wide and warm and firm. "Don't test me."

"Yeah?" His hand settled on her hip, pulling her against him deliberately slow, giving her every opportunity to knock his hand away, to sidestep him, to tell him to stop, but she didn't. He took it as a sign to run his hand behind her. "I think you're bluffing."

Her heart quickened when she felt him gently squeezing her ass. "A-About what?"

"All this bravado of yours," he taunted, his hands now trailing down to her sides. "I bet there's something sweet underneath all this bitterness."

"You don't know me," she hissed breathlessly. It was difficult to keep snapping back at him when his other hand ran up her leg, pushing her skirt up as he went, his grip encompassing the entire width of her thigh.

"Maybe not. But I'm always up for a challenge." His calloused hand brushed at the lacy edge of her underwear and she sucked in a shaky breath. "Let's see how long you can keep up with this attitude."

She opened her mouth to say something snippy, but he ducked down and kissed the words out of her mouth with a low groan. Her brain suddenly froze when his finger curled under the outline of her underwear and tugged it to the side, trailing his slender finger through her bare slit.

A smirk curled at the corner of his lips as pulled away, trailing his mouth along her jawline. His finger brushed along her slickness and it took a lot of self-control for her not to moan. "How are you already so wet?"

Although a small gasp emitted from her as she felt him sliding a finger, and when his thumb pressed against her clit, she closed her eyes, tossing her head to the side at the feeling of him filling her up.

"You're awfully quiet," he murmured against her neck, sucking a bruise against her soft skin as he began to pump his finger. "Who would've thought I had to touch you to keep your mouth shut."

She bit her bottom lip, fighting against the pleasure that surged through her, desperately trying to suppress the enjoyment coursing through her veins. "I hate you."

"No, you don't." His tone was vexingly calm, and all it did was rile her up more. She wished he'd match her frustration because his composure was annoying. Then to make matters worse, he let out an amused laugh. He fucking laughed. "Look at you trying to hold yourself back."

"I'm not—fuck." She gasped as she felt his finger curling inside her.

"Keep telling yourself that." He added another finger and she slumped against the wall, pressing back hard to keep herself upright as he pumped his wrist. "It's okay to admit you're enjoying this."

"I-I'm not," she huffed indignantly.

"Has anyone ever told you you're a bad liar?"

Her breath mingled with the sound of her arousal echoing in the narrowed space as he drove his fingers into her faster. "Shut up, Reid." She then grabbed onto his arm as the pleasure intensified, nails digging into his skin. "You think you're so smart, so full of yourself—"

"You really like picking up a fight, don't you? That's why you always have an attitude with me." His lips brushed her ear. "It gets you worked up. It gets you wet."

She quickly shook her head. "I just don't like you."

"Hmm." He leaned back and watched the way she tensed beneath his touch, her muscles coiling with delicate restraint. It was as if she fought against the pleasure that threatened to consume her, seeking to maintain control even as her body betrayed her desires. "I wonder if you'll like it as much if I put my head between your thighs."

The thought of having his face buried right where her arousal burned drove her over the edge. Her body betrayed her and she knew he could feel it too. "Oh wow, you're clenching around my fingers," he hummed in satisfaction. "Is that what you want? You want me to eat you out?"

"No," she mumbled but he found her hips bucking against his palm.

"Your body is saying otherwise." He withdrew his fingers but kept rubbing tight circles against her clit. Her blood was hammering under her skin and her legs shook as she tried to roll her hips up against his hand again. "Say you want me between your thighs."

She gritted her teeth, her muscles tightening in a valiant effort to hold back the mounting pleasure that begged to be unleashed. "I'm not saying that."

"Are you sure?" His other hand traveled along the back of her head before fisting her hair in his hand, exposing the column of her throat to him. "Don't you want to come all over my face?"

"Reid..." she mumbled hopelessly, her head spinning as his hot breath brushed against her skin. The thought of admitting that infuriated her because him actually getting her off was something she'd never live down. This was Spencer Reid, the man who had always infuriated her with his know-it-all statistics as if she hadn't already known half of the things he said.

But damn it, she really wanted him between her thighs.

"Say it," he repeated, moving his hand away entirely, and she grabbed his wrist desperately, pulling his fingers back to where she wanted them. "Say I want your mouth on me, Spencer, and I'll happily oblige."

"Reid—"

"Spencer," he corrected. "Say it."

Her body quivered, a taut wire stretched to its limit, yearning to snap under the weight of the pleasure that coursed through her. And then his finger suddenly stopped its movement and she knew he wasn't going to touch her again until she gave in. If that's how he wanted it, fine. She was going to consider this as one of their silly mind games, their usual banter whenever they tried to outwit one another. She could figure out a way to get back at him later. She could swallow her pride for now.

"I want your mouth on me," she reluctantly caved in.

"Did you forget my name?"

Unbelievable.

"I fucking hate you," she sneered. Then she pushed him away from the crook of her neck and leveled her gaze on him. "Just put your fucking mouth on me, Spencer."

He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "You have a very foul mouth."

But true to his words, he eventually dropped to his knees, his hands trailing on either of her sides before he slipped her underwear down her legs. His fingers trailed along her skin as he did it, prickling the depth of her anticipation even when her mind was still trying to comprehend what she was letting herself in.

Because she had never thought of getting eaten out at work, let alone with someone she hated. Sure, hate was a very strong word, but it was what she was used to feeling whenever it came to him. It was easy to engross her hatred every time he treated her differently from the others.

Hate she could do, it came naturally to her. But to desire him, actually wanting him to bury his face between her thighs, was starting to mess her up, and not in a bad way. Not in a way that had her feeling repulsed, but in a way that made her want to grab onto his hair and pull his face right at the center of her heat.

Spencer looked up at her and smiled, as if he knew what she was thinking, and pushed up her skirt around her hips. His eyes bored into her as he hiked one of her legs onto his shoulder. His gaze traveled down her body, taking in her flushed cheeks—out of anger or embarrassment, he didn't know—and continued to sweep over the curve of her breasts before they stopped right in front of him.

"Look at you." He leaned closer, his breath brushed her damp skin. "Aren't you a pretty thing?"

There was something compelling about having Spencer sinking on his knees before her, but having his mouth wrapped around her clit pulled away her senses and her legs started to buckle that she had to grab onto the nearest cabinet for support. She stifled a moan, not expecting the enthusiastic way he devoured her from below with frantic motions of his wandering tongue.

This was so wrong. However, heat continued washing over, traveling up towards her face and burning at the tips of her ears. The more his mouth sucked onto her, lapping his tongue through her slickness, the more her body coursed with pleasure that she couldn't stop herself from sinking her fingers into his hair, holding him in place as she ground her hips over his face.

"For someone who claims to hate me," he whispered, his voice vibrating against her skin, his tongue pushing into her walls. "You sure are enjoying this."

A moan was thick in her throat until she swallowed it down, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of how true his words were. "You're annoying. So fucking annoying," she hissed.

Spencer hummed. "And you taste so good."

She gasped in surprise when she felt him lick a long stripe along her slit, the rough pad of his tongue catching her clit as she jolted. His fingers dipped into her thighs as he held her steady, lewd sounds leaving his lips as he continued to suck her wetness. His movements were suddenly fast, so feral and animalistic as he shamelessly lapped her skin, swallowing every liquid dripping off her body.

The built-up pleasure inside her continued to grow as she rolled her hips into his mouth, trying to focus on the sensation of him pressing his tongue against the same spot each time. Her chest was heaving as she tried to focus on the pleasure that was slowly taking over her rational thoughts, the coil inside her desperately close to breaking.

"Oh, god," Her voice shook, head tipped back and eyes staring at the ceiling as she felt herself dance on the precipice of release for a few agonizing moments before she finally started to shatter. Then a strangled cry left her lips as she began to buck her hips as he continued to suck her clit through her climax, the pleasure clouding her mind. It wasn't until he finally stood up, looking down at her with a grin that she finally took in what just happened.

"Do you still hate me?"

Yes, yes she did, especially with that smug smile of his taunting her. Yet she found herself hooking her fingers around the belt strap of his pants, pulling him closer as the weight of her resistance began to crumble under the force of his unwavering gaze. "So fucking much." The triumphant smile on his face grew as she started to unbuckle his belt, the sound echoing in the room. "Do you have a condom?"

"Do you really think I'm the type of person to be carrying a condom in my pocket?"

"I think you're the type of person who never gets laid." He threw her an uninterested stare which she decided to ignore. Then she let her hands fall to the side. "I'm not having sex without a condom."

Spencer weighed in her words. If he was smart, he would've stopped himself, pulled away, and accept her admission. But he didn't want to be smart, after depending on his intelligence throughout his life, he didn't want to be rational. It was definitely out of his character, but there was something about her that stirred a dormant part of him, awakening desires and emotions he hadn't known existed within his soul.

He had always prided himself on his restraint and self-discipline, but after finally having a taste of her, he found himself unraveling. He wanted more. So he leaned closer, and pressed a desperate kiss at the hollow of her throat, marveling at the way her body trembled from his touch. "Why not?"

She was going to regret it. She really was. But damn it, how could she restrain herself when he was sucking into her skin like a man starved. She splayed her hands on his chest and pushed him away before giving him the deadliest glare she could muster.

"I swear to god if you finish inside me I will kill you."

Then a smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. "Was planning to come in your mouth anyway."

She was about to retort a haughty response when he suddenly grabbed her by the elbow and turned her around, pushing her against the wall. She was taken aback by the newfound dominance he exuded in his touch. It was a side of him she had never witnessed before, and it sent a thrill of surprise and intrigue coursing through her veins, something she would never admit out loud.

He dragged his tongue across his lips at the sight before him as his hands reached for his belt, unclasping the strap before unbuttoning his pants, the sound of his zipper being pulled down echoing in the narrowed space. He then slightly pulled down his briefs, slipping out his cock before his knee wedged in between her thighs, parting her legs to open.

He slightly shifted, his jaw twitching as he gathered saliva in his mouth, craning his neck down to spit on her pulsing core before the head of his cock gently nudged her clit. Embarrassingly, she clenched around nothing. Her vision went white and she felt herself tremble as he positioned himself at her entrance, pushing in inch by inch.

"Fuck," he sighed, hips twitching as he finally slid into her fully, feeling her walls clenching hard around him. "I can get used to this."

She could get used to this too. She had never felt so full before, never felt herself being stretched like this so deliciously, but she certainly didn't need to feed his ego by moaning about it. "Well don't, this is the only time I'm letting this happen."

He pulled back his hips, leaving only the tip as he watched her slickness coated around him. "We'll see about that."

And then all hell broke loose.

He slammed into her with so much force that she let out a muffled scream as her eyes shot wide open. He relentlessly bucked his hips, his cock filling her over and over without self-control, the tip of him hitting her deepest parts relentlessly. She could barely even think as his hips fell into a rhythm, sending her higher and higher with each thrust.

Her legs tensed up even more at the pressure, his hands gripping her hips so hard his fingers dig into her flesh that she knew she would leave bruises. Behind her, he was grunting and growling through gritted teeth as he repeatedly buried himself into her without remorse. It didn't take long before his vicious thrusts had her eyes rolling back behind closed lids, her mind going entirely blank to everything but this very moment.

One of his hands released her hip before she felt him grabbing a fistful of her hair, just at the base of her skull, and sharply pulling. A high-pitched, breathy noise tore out of her at the feel of it. "Poor baby," he cooed. "Look at you so desperate for my cock."

She couldn't help but be stunned by his words. Who would've thought Spencer Reid was good at dirty talk? Definitely not her. It was as though he had unveiled a secret facet of his personality that had remained hidden until now, and she found herself captivated by this revelation.

Not that she was going to admit this, of course, so instead, she solely focused on the way he addressed her. "I am not your baby."

"You want me to call you something else?" He asked between bated breaths, hips thrusting into her. "How about Angel? Darling? Sweetheart?"

She let out a frustrated groan at his teasing but it was probably impossible to discern it from the rest of the noises she was trying to hold. "Are you always this chatty during sex?"

"No," he hummed as he picked up his pace, sending a helpless spasm through her.

"R-Really?" She mused breathlessly. "I must be special then."

He then tugged on her hair even rougher, causing her to curse loudly in response, her hips beginning to eagerly press backward into him as his hips jutted into her relentlessly like a man possessed. "Don't get too cocky."

"Just admit it," she whispered, pleasure racing down her body in waves. "You like me."

With another sharp tug on her hair, he abruptly plunged his cock so deep inside of her that she couldn't stop herself from arching her back. He held himself there as he used the grip on her hair to haul her backward to him, a surprised yelp falling out of her. "I don't like you."

Her back fell onto his chest and she felt his body vibrating behind her. "Then why is your heart beating so fast?"

"Well, sex is physically exerting so..."

How was it possible to be this aroused and annoyed at the same time? Wasn't sex supposed to be enjoyable? Well, she was clearly enjoying this, but it was hard to fully sink into the pleasure when he was driving her insane. Unless...

It dawned on her, that was her move. That was how she could play his game. Maybe she should be enjoying this to the fullest, maybe she should stroke his ego, get into his head, and have him feel as desperate as she was. A fierce determination ignited within her, fueling a newfound resolve to turn the tables on him. This was how she was going to get him back.

"Harder," she asked, pushing her hips into him.

His pace suddenly slowed down, uncertain whether he was hearing her right. "Yeah?"

She nodded. "Please?" she added before he could prompt her.

A satisfied sound escaped his lips—it was a sound she had never heard coming from him, loud and crude emitting between a growl and something coming close to a whimper, which had her smiling triumphantly. "L-Look at you begging now."

This was easier than she expected. She rolled her head back against his shoulder and let out a moan she had kept so hard on controlling. "I want you to fuck me harder, Spencer."

His sharp intake of breath at that moment was worth it. "I know what you're doing."

"What am I doing, baby?" she asked sweetly, dripping in forced affection that sounded nothing like her at all.

He instantly released the hold on her hair, his hand snaking around to grip her throat as his other hand slid around the front of her. "You're messing with me."

She let out a strained sound as she felt his other hand traveling down where they were connected. "I-I thought you wanted me to admit how good you make me feel? Is that not enough? You want me to cry out how amazing your cock feels inside me?"

Then she couldn't help her next words.

"Should I call you daddy?"

Oh, that got him. He hissed as the hand on her throat tightened. "You're a menace."

"A menace you enjoy fucking?"

His lips curled into a snarl. "I'm going to wipe that smug look off your face."

Only then he began to thrust back into her roughly. A series of breathy, needy gasps fell out of her as she held tight onto his forearm that was holding her by her throat. His other hand on her clit circled around roughly, touching her just right that she entirely lost it, her hips quaked against him as he groaned out in response, her walls clenching his cock.

Then his hand left her clit a few moments later, instead landing hard on her ass with a sharp smack that sounded throughout the room. His fingers dug into the flesh there as his hips began clumsily ramming into her, his cock twitching inside of her. The stimulation was too much for her that she clamped a hand over her mouth, trying to keep quiet as he stretched her harshly, the delicious burn only adding to the pleasure.

"You're still holding back?" He taunted, bringing back his hand before another loud smack rang in her ears, her ass burning from the pain. "Let that voice out, no one's going to hear you."

It was amazing how long she could hold in her pleasure because now her walls were starting to crumble when a particularly deep and brutal thrust had his cock hitting her just right. And then, it happened—the dam of restraint finally burst. A low moan escaped her lips, a primal cry of pleasure that echoed through the room like a song of surrender

"That's it," he grunted. "You sound so pretty."

As the sensations intensified, her breaths came in shallow gasps, her heart pounding in her chest. Once she let herself go, she couldn't stop herself from moaning out his name, to which he responded with his own moan, especially when she clenched around him even tighter.

"You gonna come for me now?" She helplessly nodded, not trusting herself to form any coherent words, squirming her hips against him for more. "Go on then," he demanded, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. "Come for me."

She finally snapped as she gave in to the sensation that had been gradually crawling its way up her spine. Pleasure was soon coating every inch of her and as her eyes closed. She didn't bother to muffle her cries this time as she fell apart around his cock, her body convulsing as he continued to thrust inside her, forcing the pleasure to keep growing stronger and stronger until small black spots started to appear in her vision.

When her climax had washed over, she was left dizzy and breathless, still leaning against him. His loud panting breaths quickly filled her ears, his chest heaving beneath her head and she could tell by the way his hips were fluctuating in their pace, the feel of his throbbing cock inside of her, that he was very close to his release.

Panic suddenly crept into her daze state and she craned her neck to look back. "Don't you dare finish inside me, I swear to god—"

Very abruptly he slipped his cock out from inside of her, his arms releasing their hold on her just as fast before turning her to face him.

"Get on your knees."

The ground scraped her skin as she quickly sank onto her knees, and just because he looked so damn good tethering in his pleasure as she stared up at him, she gripped his cock in her hands and took him fully in her mouth.

"Fuck," the gravel in his voice was prominent, her lips gliding effortlessly down his shaft until her nose hits his stomach. His hand finds its way into her hair as she kneeled there before him, fisting a bunch of it at the scalp, desperately needing something to tie him down to reality.

She slid back off his cock to take just his head inside her mouth, swirling her tongue around it before flattening it against his tip, licking a fat stripe while looking up at him through her lashes. Spencer sucked in a sharp breath, tightening the grip on her hair.

Maintaining his gaze, she took him completely down her throat again, essentially swallowing him, holding herself there until she gagged around him. She could taste him on her tongue as she continued to repeat the motion, tears welling at her lids and saliva building at her lips, seeping down her chin.

He groaned at the sight.

"I-I'm gonna come—"

And he did. She felt lightheaded as the first shot of liquid filled her mouth, and then he jutted his hips a few more times before another surge of his release spilled down her throat. She swallowed him whole, swallowed every drop of him into her mouth as he continued to look down in wonder. She never thought of ever being in this position, but now she decided there was nothing else more satisfying than to watch her rival come undone from her touch.

Although she couldn't dwell in her contentment for long because as she released him from her mouth, the sound of the door rattling waked her senses. Panic flashed in her eyes as they met his gaze, and they instinctively stepped apart before sprinting into action, Spencer tucking himself back in his pants, while she quickly got to her feet and pulled down her skirt, scurrying to the other side of the room.

It wasn't until she spotted her underwear laying by his feet that she realized she was still naked underneath. Spencer followed her line of sight and just as the door creaked, he bent down and quickly grabbed the fabric, shoving it in his pocket at the same time their friend entered the room.

"There you are," Luke sighed in relief, casting them both a look. "We've been searching everywhere for you guys. Are you both alright? I thought I heard screaming."

In that fleeting moment, they both exchanged a glance laden with unspoken messages, each silently urging the other to maintain composure.

"Yes. I-uh." She cleared her throat, struggling to suppress the heat rising to her cheeks, willing herself not to betray the blush that threatened to expose what went on before this. "I was screaming for help."

Luke watched them with keen eyes, skepticism etched upon his face. A subtle tension crackled in the air, barely noticeable to most but not escaping the scrutiny of his gaze. He watched as Spencer hid his face behind a file he was holding, and she was studying her nails as if they were the most interesting thing in the world.

He narrowed his eyes but didn't say anything, before stepping back towards the door again. "Well, come on, there's a new lead on the case. Everyone's waiting."

When he finally left them alone again, she let out a breath she wasn't aware of holding and quickly held out her hand. Spencer raised his eyebrows at her. "What?"

"My underwear?"

He stared at her empty hand, then at her face, and shrugged nonchalantly, leaving her dumbfounded as he started to leave the room before the door closed on them again.

"Reid," she hissed, following behind him. "Give it back."

He looked over his shoulder and gave her a smile, or something close to it because even after what happened a few minutes ago his smile was far from looking genuine. "Come by my place after work and I might give it to you."

Her steps faltered.

"Might?"

But his back was already facing her as he strode down the hallway. She stood there, feeling extremely exposed wearing nothing but her own skin underneath her skirt, and the only way to get back her missing piece of clothing was to force herself in his presence again.

She closed her eyes and sighed, not sure what she felt right now was either anger or exhaustion. Probably both—no, wait, definitely both.

Because what the fuck did she get herself into?

.

Quick question, if I make a taglist for my one-shots does anyone want to be added?

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Anhedonia 2/2

Word count: 5,5 k (part 1) and 4,4 k (part 2)

Pairing: Ghost x F!Reader Tags: SMUT 🔞🔞🔞 Literally just unadulterated, deranged filth, plot is there for decoration. Angst. Hurt/Comfort. Mutual pining, sexual tension (duh), blood & injury, p in v sex, oral sex (m receiving), mutual masturbation, cum all over the place, light humiliation, dirty talk, some praise, swearing, mask stays on, fluffy/reconciliatory ending. Summary: Reader is a Task Force 141 operator and a terrible brat (and suffers the consequences of it later). Enemies to lovers/toxic relationship that takes a healthy turn in the end. Read PART 1 here

"Wha' a good girl you are now…"

His first words hit you like a moan-inducing massage, but you stay silent and steady in your resolve.

"Good soldier, too. We just need to get you to follow orders so that you don't get hurt," he speaks gently.

There it is, finally – a good girl and a good soldier. You have to mentally bind your hands behind your back and place an imaginary gag in your mouth not to chirp and bounce up from joy. It's pathetic, but it's also harrowing: Ghost never meant to fuck with your head; he only wanted to keep you safe. But then he causes another riot in your brain with the next thing he says.

"Such a beautiful sight… You'd make a fine pet."

- - - - - - - - -

You go to offer your apology the next day after sleeping on it.

You feel like you're the most horrible person in the world. And yet, when you knock on his door and call yourself in when only a silence answers, the scalding gaze that locks into you like the sights of a gun remind you why you said what you said.

It's like the man has struck a knife in you, and twists it just to see you squirm. And you do: it's a telltale sign that you've been claimed when you kneel in the middle of his office while he sits behind the same desk he rutted you on less than 20 hours ago.

He says nothing. You wait, equally as quiet, like you're waiting for a pardon from Caesar.

The atmosphere is mellow: his shutters are closed but one window is creaked open, allowing birdsong and summer wind on trees to pass through to his otherwise stale office. It stirs the softest, small smile on your lips as you look at him, adamant and all locked up.

Your knees hurt, but he eventually breaks first: something you hadn't even calculated might happen. The brimstone of his eyes steal a breather to the side, then come back to you with a tinge of confusion in them.

Then he lifts his chin, lifts a hand, a command for you to approach.

Your smile only softens as you go around his desk, and he pushes the chair away with one foot, turns to meet you as you fall on your knees again, then on all fours before starting a slow crawl to him.

His eyes go wide, his head draws back as if you approaching him like a housecat is the most threatening situation he has ever been in.

You have planned this through, and he has the instincts, the sixth sense of a seasoned hunter as he opens his legs wide to make space for you.

He certainly doesn't stop you as you free his erection from the sturdy cargo pants and offer your apology by taking him in your mouth.

He knows what's coming but still gasps and grabs the arms of his chair with white knuckles. You're on your knees, seemingly domesticated, but he's the one begging for mercy before you have even begun. He's heavy in your mouth, but you welcome the weight with greed and a hot tongue.

His thighs travel wide and far, just like yours did last night. The first moan is divine. He eases into the chair while the muscles on his stomach and thighs twitch and shudder.

A pair of boots echo in the hallway behind the door, the sound soon disappearing into the distance. Anyone could walk in at any given moment, and the notion makes your head feel dizzy.

He doesn't say anything, doesn't disclose in any way that he is considering forgiveness.

But eventually, he starts to melt upon your tongue like a snow-covered mountain ridge basking in the sun. Something in the way with which you work him slowly and with gusto makes him send a hand on your head. It strokes your hair softly.

"Wha' a good girl you are now…"

His first words hit you like a moan-inducing massage, but you stay silent and steady in your resolve.

"Good soldier, too. We just need to get you to follow orders so that you don't get hurt," he speaks gently.

There it is, finally – a good girl and a good soldier. You have to mentally bind your hands behind your back and place an imaginary gag in your mouth not to chirp and bounce up from joy. It's pathetic, but it's also harrowing: Ghost never meant to fuck with your head; he only wanted to keep you safe. But then he causes another riot in your brain with the next thing he says.

"Such a beautiful sight… You'd make a fine pet."

You give him some teeth for that. Just the lightest scrape as you arrive near the base of his cock. He hisses, then laughs.

"Careful, love."

It's the first time ever you've heard him properly laugh. The sound implements itself into your core, your spine, your DNA. It's genuine and hearty, and the summer brushes past the open window to your face in a reviving breeze. Combined with the dark musk of his laughter, it makes your heart flip, and a small, tickling giggle bubbles inside you too. It arrives muted against his cock, but it's a magnificent moment – you two laughing together, even if for a second, even if yours is just a huff of an exhale against his pelvis.

"You don't like the idea?" He asks you a question as if you didn't have your mouth full of him.

His offer is alluring – of course you'd like him to take you as his pet. You could get good food and caresses, get to curl next to him when he goes to sleep. He could show you off like a domesticated animal if he wanted to. He could parade you down the street on a leash, and you would only purr as you go.

But while the proposition is enticing, you leave him with no answer, knowing it will only intrigue him if you don't say yes.

"I would be good to you," he starts to slip, and you up the pace a little. Open your jaw as far as it can go to accommodate him as much as you can, the soft hood of his cock meeting the back of your throat.

"So good– nh..." You can almost hear how his head rolls back, and you catch yourself worrying if he might hurt his neck because the chair has no headrest.

You do it again, and again, almost choking while trying to show him how good you are, how well you can take him and what your tongue can do too. You nearly stumble while you're at it, so lost in him, and you have to reach for support to prevent yourself from falling.

Your hand finds his leg, clutches the khaki that hugs a broad thigh. You flinch when a hard, heavy palm descends on top of yours. It brushes a thumb over the back of your hand as his sighs travel through the stagnant air, rampant and unchallenged through the fabric of his mask.

"Be my pet, sweetheart," he prays, growing weaker by the second. It's like a charm that transforms you into a priestess, a Babalon whore, a scarlet woman who adores men before sending them off to war.

His hips buck, he starts to clutch your hand like you're a rope that's going to save him from drowning. The other hand is more gentle in grip, but mercenary in demand as he grabs a fistful of hair to guide you along his length. Your gag reflex almost shoots him out of your mouth, but he is relentless.

He knows you can take it.

"That's it–that's it, luv," he rasps, and every other noise gets shut out of your brain as you go deaf to the sonic world. You can feel his thighs bunch and tremble around your head, the earthquake under your fingers pressed against hard, lifeless textile when they should be scraping his skin instead. He opens like a woman, massive legs spread hungry and wide as he shoots a load in your mouth. Ample, abundant, even if he just filled you to the brim not too long ago.

You drink him dutifully, greedy for the praise of a job well done, but such a thing never comes. He just breathes heavy over you, sounding happy, the happiest man on earth. You lick him clean, although there's really nothing to clean except your own saliva. The cock glistens, jolts happily one last time after you're done.

"I can make you scream on that desk," he offers while his hands release their death grip on you. Your hair gets tucked behind your ear, he even squeezes your hand briefly like you're his most trusted companion. His cock is flaccid, so you assume he's offering his fingers, perhaps even his mouth to you.

You'd like nothing more than to know if he has a stubble under that balaclava. To see if he would kneel on the floor too to shove his face between your legs while you're splayed over that desk. If he would forget about the door too, making it possible for anyone to catch him with his nose up your cunt. For Soap or Gaz or even Price to see how the broody commanding officer is just a thirsty hound dog on a bowl.

But then again, you just worked yourself up to a shattering orgasm. Two times, actually – deliberately, before you came here. The taste of his cum on your tongue will have to suffice; hell, it's almost better than him finally fucking or licking you into a deranged bliss.

You sense another opening, can't just help yourself…

"Thank you, sir. But that won't be necessary."

- - - - - - - - -

You begin to fear that you're the narcissist here. The way you make him twist and turn like a corkscrew, the way it makes you feel to see how he spirals deeper into madness. Even your eyes are too much for Ghost, who avoids your stare on missions but hunts you down at the base.

"What does it take?"

He ruts you whenever and wherever he can, in the toilets if need be, too busy to haul you into his room after a mission. You just so happened to pass him by, and it was the nearest space with a lock on the door.

"What the fuck does it take?"

The static hum of the bright, unyielding light and the smell of chlorite oozing out of tile seams is everything but a romantic setting as he drives into you from behind and watches you through the mirror on top of a small sink – watches how you give him nothing.

You're trying to take support from the white porcelain even though he's holding you firm against his chest with that inked arm wrapped around your middle. You want to spread your legs for him but can't, since he barely had time to rip your pants down before getting himself out as well to fuck you, so you settle for admiring how vulnerable he looks while he tries his all to please you.

"Do I have to take the mask off? That it?" He's far from a calm and collected lieutenant as he sweats black paint and despair. "Ya want my mouth? Just say it. Promise I'll make you cry."

You laugh at him through the mirror. It's an involuntary, spontaneous action, and you can't really help it. The man is absolutely adorable… And here you have been, fearing him for weeks without realizing he's just another lonely soul.

He doesn't know your strategy. He doesn't know that it's just you and your hand that are his worst enemy.

"What're ya laughin' at?"

You bite your lip, allow him to see mischief and a quivering smile, wet, adoring eyes paired with simple silence. He could force and command and bully you, but he doesn't do it.

Who's the pet now?

"Obviously, you like my cock," he grunts. "Always wet 'n' ready to go, like a fuckin'–"

It ends in a huff before a potential slur comes out.

Truly a gentleman…

"You let everyone 'ere have a go at you?"

He ticks like a time bomb inside you.

"I'm the last to get to fuck you? Huh? I get the fuckin' scraps, is that it?"

He doesn't need slurs to tear you down, but on the other hand, Ghost only reveals more of himself with the insults and assumptions he hurls at you.

He's desperate, crying for it, longing to be the one who makes you cry and scream and purr. Be your one and only.

"No," you hum. "I'm all yours, Lt."

He blinks a few times, exhausted lids fall to cover most of his eyes, and the stare tells you he has entered a dreamworld.

"I'm–," he groans with a broken voice. "I'm… Fuck–"

You shiver with ecstasy – his orgasm is a better reward than anything else he could ever give you. He collapses again, even more humiliated than the day before, or the day before that. He doesn't seem to care anymore. His hips press you against the cold sink, and you fear the porcelain is going to break under your combined weight. He doesn't slip out. Instead, Ghost tucks his mask on top of his nose to catch breath.

He has a shadow of a stubble, a stern jaw, and the notion makes your walls pulse. Thin lips part to gasp for air, his blazing chest heaves behind your back, threatens to topple you all over the sink and against the mirror already misty from your mingled heat.

And the mask was lifted for a whole other reason than to catch some precious air.

He presses his lips against your bare neck, breathes you in with mouth slightly open. Pants, like a tormented beast.

"You almost got killed," he whispers on your skin. Your heart leaps, and he still doesn't slip out…

"Took that blast and those bullets f' me."

Your heart flutters; it competes in rapidness with the blinks of your lashes. He's gentleman enough not to raise his head as you swallow some panic.

"Why did you do that?"

You can't tell him it wasn't even that heroic. That the ultimate reason was just to get his attention. To get him to proudly acknowledge what a good, talented little soldier you are. His girl.

The thick, softening heat inside you is too much. It shouldn't be this close, he shouldn't be this close. Tears are not allowed; they would be the end of you. The end of the fucking world. Your doom.

Claustrophobia makes it a shaky business to tiptoe him out of you, to slither and struggle out of his embrace and yank your pants up, fight your way through the cramped space and out of the door.

- - - - - - - - -

He suspects something.

And of course he does: the man is not a clandestine operations expert for nothing.

You usually do this in the morning, knowing you won't get another chance before he steals a moment with you. But this morning, you slept in and know that you're in the biggest danger ever. If he catches you before you're satisfied and immune, you're dead.

Everything's been fucked up ever since you met him. He's like a sickness, and you've fallen ill. You're practically bedridden because of him.

You have to use a toy because your hand is not enough anymore, and you fear that one of these days you will climax while he's inside you.

The funny thing is, you forgot to lock the door.

Maybe it's a subconscious wish – to end this sickness and receive some healing.

And the perfect healer walks in like he owns the place. Owns you.

Your heart shoots up your throat at the sound of a door opening to your most sacred space while you're most relaxed, spread naked on the bed, nipples perked up and pointing to the sky.

You forgot to lock the door…

The chant arises right before he emerges like a dark mountain after opening that weak, thin piece of plywood that separates you from civility and prudence.

You forgot to lock the door you forgot to lock the door–

He freezes the exact moment his eyes hit on you. He's a northern slope that never catches sunlight while you're at your weakest, most vulnerable, leaking around a toy made out of plastic, trembling naked and full of goosebumps from the sudden cold he emits.

"You fuckin' little…"

His chest rises and falls, then he slams the door shut, locks it without ever taking his eyes off you.

He understands the mystery to the full. It unravels before him clear-cut like the steps of a mission he knows by heart before even entering the field. You can't move, can't speak, but you clench around the lifeless substitute of him, far smaller and a thousand times more tame than what he has on offer for you. The throb is simply a reaction to how he looks at you while he realizes the entirety of the childish trick you've managed to pull, a game – some stupid little antics of a stubborn, lovesick girl and nothing more.

"Alright then. Let's hear it."

"Mhm-"

He takes a step, chest puffed up and shoulders wide, eyes burning under the chalked white skull.

"Go on then. Get on wit' it."

You obey like never before. He watches how you push the lavender-colored toy fully inside, up to the hilt, and let out a shy, sad whimper. The first of many cries to come.

Ten soldiers in one man approach your bed, stand tall all around you as you gaze up at him like he's a god. He's panting by the time he gets himself out of his jeans. His eyes scourge you as he takes his cock in hand and starts to pump in sync with you.

He makes more noise than you do at first. You make him falter by changing the speed from slow and languid to shallow and quick. He tries to keep up with you like it's a race, eyes darting from your quivering mouth and wet stare to your soaked pussy.

You sigh and moan, fuck yourself sloppy, dirty, and he looks like he's about to lose his mind and burst.

"Good girl," he says with a charred voice, a soft rasp that hits you with a delicious heat. "Such a good fuckin' girl."

You swallow tears and love, give him moans and sighs, even a high-pitched mewl or two.

Somewhere along the way, you notice you're following his cue and rhythm instead of your own, and the way the angry bulge of his tip disappears into and reappears from his fist dries your mouth right up, makes your eyelids heavy. You're breathless and incoherent, far too close to the mountaintop — already were before the actual mountain even walked through that door.

You have to slow down to brace yourself for the pleasure that swells.

"Oh– oh my god…"

Your sigh is a final admission: how he is a literal god to you. His hand claps against his balls as he pleasures himself, angry as fuck and as relieved as anyone could be when they find out that their heartthrob is just a delightful little minx instead of a cruel, heartless woman.

Everything shakes and quakes and shifts, your insides shudder, your walls grip lavender when they want to grip a man. The skull tilts, the man who compels you is like an avatar of death, but his eyes are hazel longing.

The scream is celestial, wreathed in needy pain, and his shoulders sigh and shake as he watches you come for him.

"Yeah… That's it, fuck that's sweet." He doesn't slow down, quite the opposite: he beats his flesh like a maniac as you slowly but surely come down, squirm on the bed, still clutching the toy as your pussy throbs around it. If it was his cock, you fear the grip would never release him.

"Here comes," he gives an announcement, weak and breathless, rough and mean. Ropes of cum hit your breasts, neck and face, and his eyes are those of a fallen angel. Your chest rises and falls in shock and adoration as he works himself to the last of it, drips of heat dropping on the sheets, the last spurts not powerful enough to reach you from where he is standing.

When he's done, he raises his hand, like the strings of hot lust are some sort of an art piece you're supposed to gawk at.

"There ya go luv," he wipes his hand clean with you, on you. The sticky semen coats you from face to navel, and you half expect him to smear it all over you.

But he doesn't.

He forces the heavy, teary cock back inside the confine of his pants like he's mad at himself and not you.

Then he drops down like a shadow, making you quail again – one hand sinks with a fist on the pillow next to your head, the other sweeps all gentle across your belly and down over your mound. He takes hold of your hand, uses it to ease the toy slowly out while leaning over you, keeping you as a prisoner with his hawklike stare. He pulls more than just the small, harmless toy out of you: a moan or two, a final confession, but he's not pleased. You two are far from even, and he knows it, and he's fucking done. You can see it in his eyes that he's ready to quit.

He leaves you empty and barren, with just a toy to keep you company, heads for the door like a storm cloud.

"Simon…"

He walks away, much slower, but still. Leaves a memory of your shared hate and love on the doorknob as he turns it, as you start to panic.

"Don't leave," you wheeze.

Don't leave me.

Tears prick and burn your eyes as the room turns into a dismal, empty space at the very thought of living without him from this day forward.

"Please."

He opens the door a crack. Probably to let the ghosts out, because after opening it and hearing your heart-wrenching, helpless sob, he closes it.

By the time he turns and walks back to the bed, you're crying like a baby. Finally crying for him, utterly exposed. It's not the way either of you had meant for things to go, it's not the sobbing and wailing he wants.

Still, you expect him to feast on your tears as well, watch with glee how you curl into a fetal position while covered in his cum. You don't want to see it, so you close your eyes before he rapes you with his stare.

"Sweetheart."

But his voice shatters a heart. So tender that it washes over you in waves as you repeat it inside your head like a lullaby.

"Sweetest…" he trails off into somewhere, some obsidian space that stretches out before you, between you, until you cross that space with no effort at all. Meet him in the middle.

"Yes, love..?" Your own shaky voice is a mirror of his compassion as you pledge yourself to him. A warm hand brushes your cheek not seconds after, dries a tear away, adds to the heat that pangs on your face.

You open your eyes to dare a peek up. He has the same wet look in his eyes as he did when he found you in the rubble, bleeding for him.

"You did well today," he says, voice laced with love. You don't know if he means you did well at work or on this bed just now. What makes the praise scary is that it's authentic, the way he adores you with both word and touch. It breaks you into smaller pieces still, and your voice comes out as a needy whimper.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

You hope he would take you in his arms, just the way he did weeks ago. You still remember how it felt to succumb to his warmth and the soft tang of gun oil and smoke that always surrounds him. Now you're only shrouded by the scent of tears and salt.

"Must be due to a good leader," you whisper.

He cocks his head, the hand halts, hovers over you, a last suspicion.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Your hands are crossed over your chest, palms on opposite shoulders, shielding you from him. But you open them as he lays down and settles beside you, takes you in his arms, and presses your head to rest on his heart, underneath his chin. The massive palm covers half of your head, but the predatorial weight is gone. He only feels like home.

"Look at you, ya silly little thing… Always gettin' yourself into trouble." He brushes your beef off with a few words and an imply that you're just a blameless, stubborn little thing who he can't be mad at even if he wanted to. And it feels like the sickness finally starts to pass, that it was just an odd inflammation, a passing fever that made you so delirious. You anchor in, slither an arm under his to take support of the bedrock of his back.

He caresses you, makes you sob in his shirt from the sudden overdose of gentleness. His cum dries somewhere between your skin and his clothes as he swallows, then asks you about the mission that went wrong.

"Why did you do it?"

He's not an idiot. Surely he knows why by now. He only wants to hear it because he's stubborn like you, but also in desperate need of love and affection.

"I think you know why." You're exhausted, only able to breathe through your mouth, but the bitterness from your tone is gone. Lost, somewhere in his shirt that smells of ferrous solitude. You wonder what your combined scent, your togetherness, will smell like. It must be something sweet. Promising, like a refreshing summer rain.

"Yeah."

He caresses you slowly now, until his hand comes to rest on top of your head, making sure you won't escape his sanctuary.

"Never do it again," he commands, so soft, voice only a smoked whisper. "Love. I need you to promise me."

"Mh."

"Promise me."

You're feeling sleepy and spent, and he's to blame for it – he simply feels too good. You decide that your first kiss can wait just a little while longer. It's only wonderful; to have something lovely and pure to wait for.

"I promise…"

You drift off to sleep, cradled by the safe slopes of his mountain.

[jadejedi]

Fantasy Book Review: A Taste of Gold and Iron by Alexandra Rowland

JJ's rating: 5/5

How feral did it make me: 5/5

My book reviews

I’ve been reading (or listening) to a lot more books this year than normal, and I have realized that I need an outlet to talk about them. I considered making a goodreads account, but hey I already have this! So I will be reviewing the books I’ve read this year, and depending on how long it takes me, I might just start reviewing all my favorite reads. I'm probably going to add links to my blog to make them easier to find.

Let’s get into it. This book is so good. SO GOOD. I listened to it on audiobook, which normally means while I’m at work, driving, or at home doing chores, but I literally listened to the last 2 hours of this book at home doing absolutely nothing, just on the edge of my damn seat! 

Here’s a quick summary: the very anxious Prince Kadou accidentally causes a serious incident that leaves multiple of his personal guards dead or injured. In the aftermath, he is assigned a new guard by the sultan who is known for being an uptight rule follower. As their personalities clash, they have to solve a mystery and learn to work together…

I want to preface this review by saying that this is definitely a romance novel with a fantasy setting. The world building, especially for the main country this novel takes place in, is great and extremely vivid without unnecessary info dumps. The main plot of the story is perfectly serviceable, if a tad predictable, but it 1000% does what it needs to do for the romance. 

But, the romance. THE ROMANCE. This book was advertised as an “enemies to lovers slow burn romance” and it 100% delivers on both. Now, when some people think “enemies to lovers” or (even better imo) “enemies to friends to lovers”, they imagine that at least one of the parties involved is a horrible villain and the relationship is probably abusive in some way. I’m sure there are plenty of books out there where that is absolutely the case, but Rowland gets what makes that trope so good. It’s about two characters who are both good people, but initially clash. It’s the mutual hatred born out of a fundamental misunderstanding of the other’s character, it’s the eventual begrudging respect, it’s THE YEARNING. THE PINING. 

Both of these characters are so wonderful. We get both POV’s throughout: Kadou’s anxious desire to do what’s best for his country and not fuck anything up, and Evemere’s steadfast, noble determination to understand what makes the prince the way he is. 

I don’t want to give too much more away, but this book is filled with ALL the delightful romance tropes you could ever desire. 

Can we talk about pacing?? Pacing is so, so important, especially when writing a slow burn romance, and this author GETS. IT. Sometimes if the romance is resolved too early, all the tension goes out of the story, because if it’s a romance novel, we’re here for the romance, not the plot. But in this story the whole novel is centered around the romance, and the pacing just works so, so well. 

Also, the way that queerness is written into this story is wonderful. Third gender pronouns abound and  same sex attraction is fully accepted, and it’s really refreshing. Also, there are multiple female characters who play significant roles in the story who are fleshed out characters, which I feel is sometimes lacking in M/M romances. 

I have not been able to stop thinking about this book since I finished it like four days ago. I listened to the audio book, which had an excellent narrator, but have also ordered the paperback with my favorite version of the cover. Please, do yourself the favor and read this one. Also, if you do read it, the author published a 10,000 word fanfic epilogue on AO3. It’s called What spring does with the cherry trees, and it’s a goddamn delight. 

[tarlossource]

‘9-1-1: Lone Star’s’ Ronen Rubinstein and Rafael Silva on Tarlos Wedding Twist, Surviving That Tragedy in Season 5

SPOILER ALERT: This interview reveals major plot points from the “9-1-1: Lone Star” Season 4 finale, “In Sickness and In Health,” which aired Tuesday on Fox.

They finally did: After seasons of will-they-won’t-they drama, surprise wives, multiple tripes to the ICU, and a last-minute murder, T.K. Strand (Ronen Rubinstein) and Carlos Reyes (Rafael Silva) made it down the aisle, said their vows, and were pronounced husband and husband on the Season 4 finale of Fox’s “9-1-1: Lone Star.”

Here, the on-screen newlyweds discuss with Variety the beauty and tragedy of the two-hour Tarlos wedding episode, and what it sets up for the married first responders in Season 5 (the first season that “Lone Star” will air on a different network from its parent series, “9-1-1,” which is moving to ABC).

In the final moments of the first hour of the two-hour finale, Carlos’s father is murdered, and by the end of the finale, he still doesn’t know who killed him. What was it like for you to play this version of Carlos, who becomes obsessed with getting revenge just before his wedding?

Rafael Silva: Carlos does go through a lot, and I think we see Carlos in a way in which we’ve, thank God, never seen before. How does one prepare to have your father murdered? One does not. So I think, in that sense, Carlos does his best to cope with the nothingness that he has left. Not only the nothingness of his father, the physical presence, but no explanation, no leads as to who did this. It wasn’t an accident. His father was purposefully murdered, purposefully taken away from him, taken away from his life.

And as an actor, that’s such a joyous gift to receive. It’s something you can play with, especially next season, it’s fertile soil. Carlos is holding on to dear life so he doesn’t lose himself. As a police officer, your purpose is to deescalate whatever is happening in front of you: solve the problem, identify the target, resolve. And I think as not only does his profession accentuate that in his personality, but his personality already has that. Where is the safe spot? Where can I be myself? And I think for Carlos, I think he has felt like he hasn’t been able to be himself more often than he has. And so to watch him lose himself completely, I think it only leads us to believe that he will no longer be himself again, in the sense that the Carlos that we have, that we have fallen in love with. And I think that’s something truly exciting to explore next season.

What are your thoughts on how T.K. supports Carlos following his father’s sudden murder, immediately deciding to postpone the wedding, and then also immediately being on board to go through with it, based on what Carlos wanted?

Ronen Rubinstein: Carlos is the most important thing in T.K.’s life. He is quite literally willing to do anything and everything to make it work and to make his partner feel safe and loved in this relationship. T.K. would would probably die for Carlos– I know he would die for Carlos, because T.K. would die for anybody on the job, and we’ve seen that happen almost many times. At the core of T.K. he’s a very selfless giving, very vulnerable, young man. And, of course, that will translate to Carlos, but it’s heightened on such a tremendous level.

Carlos is everything to T.K. In many ways, Carlos has saved T.K.’s life. We even say it in the vows, when there were moments where T.K. felt like he didn’t deserve happiness. That’s one of my favorite little excerpts of the vows; Carlos has finally allowed T.K. to feel happiness and to open himself up to happiness and he’s his rock. There’s no other way for T.K. He’s his soulmate. That scene where he reveals, you’re my soulmate, it’s so true. They are soulmates, and it is meant to be. And they save each other in many ways up until the last minute of the episode.

Paul Strickland (Brian Michael Smith) was the wedding officiant. Did you have any say in T.K. and Carlos’s vows, or suggest anything to be included?

Silva: No. We’re really blessed to have extremely dedicated, hardworking writers. And we’re very thankful for them. And when I received the vows, I got to read Paul’s part, I got to read Ronen’s, and, obviously, I got to read my own. I think the simplicity in which everything was written enhanced what was within, for each and every character. For what T.K. could have been, for his journey with addiction and being rejected by an ex-partner. And Carlos, who just suffered the biggest loss of his life to date. So he already had everything within him, going against him in this precious and beautiful moment. But I think that’s what makes it even more tender and sweeter. It’s the pain behind the joy. We have really good writers, and we’re very thankful for them.

Rubinstein: I’ve been saying this for a while, because a lot of fans are always like, “Are you going to have any say in the vows?” or,”Are you going to write your own vows?” And I think there’s no one better to write the vows than Tim Minear and Rashad [Raisani]. These characters were born out of their brilliant minds, and of course we trust them explicably with the vows. That was never a question.

Ronen, what was it like to have Lisa Edelstein back on set for a brief ghostly appearance as T.K.’s mother, Gwen, whom only Owen (Rob Lowe) sees as T.K. and Carlos say “I do.”

Rubinstein: The relationship between Gwen and T.K. has been the most sensitive thing for me, maybe because of the relationship I have with my own mother. I was raised by women, so I’ve always been very precious of that storyline. And I just love that mother-son relationship on-screen. Lisa is an incredible person to work with and we got along together immediately. Having her back, I got very emotional. I got very emotional when I saw her in the fittings, before we were even on set, because I think it brings back so much of that episode where it showed, truly, the lengths she went to to save her son.

That episode is a lot of trauma for me, as T.K., and I’ve always sort of had that in my heart. So seeing her was really emotional, but it also beautiful. And we got to hug, and get one last goodbye. Hopefully, it’s not — but I think that was Gwen’s way of saying, “All right, I can step away now. Our boy did a good job.” And it’s making me emotional thinking about it, but she said to Owen, “You saved our boy, and I saved our boy. And now he can.” It really intense. And it was amazing to have her. I’m not gonna start crying on Zoom right now, but it was really good.

Speaking of crying: I thought T.K. and Carlos walking down the aisle would get me, I thought the vows would get me, I thought Lisa would get me — but what ultimately got me was the end with Gina Torres’ Tommy singing “Being Alive,” Gwen’s favorite song, to Carlos as a wedding present from T.K. And that is set to a montage of T.K. and Carlos going on their honeymoon and Owen helping his brother die. What did you think of that choice to close out the finale?

Silva: It highlights that, no matter where you from, what kind of job you do, what kind of community you belong to, we all go through our lives going to a certain type of gain and a certain type of loss. And that happy moments can actually coexist with sad moments as well. They’re not necessarily separate. They’re always not necessarily together. But having that being led by Gina, the artist that she is, the talent that she is, and the heart she brings and the story that she tells, it couldn’t have been done by anybody else. Because who else knows loss just like T.K. and Carlos? Tommy. Tommy discovered her husband dead, right in front of her. It has even greater power, because it comes from that person. And it touches each and every person differently. But it touches with that same intention because it comes from the person who knows what that feels like. I can assure you when we did the first take, just like when T.K. and Carlos walked down the aisle, when everyone sat down to hear Gina sing, to hear Tommy sing that story of being alive, it certainly blew everyone away.

Rubinstein: It did a beautiful job of really teetering the balance of how fragile and how beautiful life is, especially for first responders out there.

The honeymoon location looked tropical — umbrella drinks and a pool — but no clear sign of where it was. Do you know where they went?

Rubinstein: We’ve been asked that a lot. It’s sort of up to the fans’ interpretation.

Silva: It’s a secret Tarlos has, and they’re not sharing.

Do you have any thoughts on where you’d like to see the writers take these newlyweds next season?

Rubinstein: I think there’s a very clear idea that we’re going to have to discover what’s going on with Carlos and who murdered his father. And I think that’s something that’s going to unite these two young men, the worst possible common trait, which is losing a parent. So it’ll be very interesting to see where they go with those circumstances. I’m sure it’s going to be something extremely epic, because you can go many, many ways.

Silva: I’m excited to see how Carlos has changed. And I’m excited to give my opinion to the writers. They write from their presence, from their collaboration, but my collaboration comes with what works and what doesn’t work on set. And I will stay very true to what works for that moment and that character. I only say this because we have such fantastic writers. That’s why I’m able to take that ownership, because they give that powerful and complex content to me for me to digest. And Carlos will never be the same. Carlos doesn’t live in a world in which both his parents are alive and his family is great. He lives in a world in which his father was murdered. And there are no answers. There are no explanations. There is no lead. What does that leave me with? What does that leave Carlos with? And I think that will be the juicy stuff to explore.

This interview has been edited and condensed.

[rustygateofme]

Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The Movie is a great mix of a “traditional” tmnt storyline and the show (also body horror wtf):

The Movie is the closest Rise has been to all of the other tmnt mainstream media, yet the tone of the show and it’s quirks is still there. That was the plan, but the way it was executed is amazing.

The subtle introduction to the change of leadership that is in Rise. Sure, they made Leo leader in the finale of season 2 but it’s clear that the new role hasn’t set in for him. Raph is not only the leader of the group because he is the oldest, it also has to do with the fact that Leo is irresponsible. He is less chaotic than he was in the show, again, it’s a blend of the other Leos that came before him and his rise personality. Same goes for every turtle here. Donnie’s evil scientist personality has been nerfed (big time) yet there he is being absolutely unhinged every time he uses mystic tech. Raph is more on edge than he was in the show, but who can blame him if he became more serious in the time skip. As he said, he is responsible for his brothers and it definitely takes a toll on him. And Mikey is the easiest to do, I like how he is not as much of a comic relief as he was in some other incarnations. We shouldn’t forget that he is literally the unofficial therapist for his family in Rise. Leo and Raph argument that they have is so familiar to the other tmnt media and not out of character for them in Rise. The only arguments they have in the show are because of Leo’s ego, but it’s resolved way faster because of the runtime. They were also younger back then, Raph just got fed up with it while Leo started acting out even more. Now he is confident with his mystic weapon and in the show he was the last one to figure it out. He knows what he is doing and he gets results, way too much power for Rise Leo to be honest (do you remember lair games? It’s possible that in was the way Leo’s brothers lived this whole time). Casey’s interrogation scene is where that classic Rise humor and visual gags shine, it’s just enough for the darker tone of the movie too. In the first fight the turtles loose their mystic powers. It’s good for the story and I have a feeling that it was something that the crew had to follow because of nickelodeon. Both “traditional” characters of Raph and Leo shine trough after Raph got captured. Leo’s classic “we’re doing things MY way” and Raph trash talking the Krang. Donnie pods are one of the few physical tech projects that he has going on. It lets his genius to be the weapon he has in the fight against the Krang after he lost his mystic powers. The way it’s brought up that he has put trackers in every member of the family is the classic Rise Donnie move it’s not even surprising, after all he records everything. April and Splinter team up is a classic for Rise. Donnie’s soft shell is brought up! Visually yes the bros are different species of turtles but it’s actually brought up in the plot. Before Donnie’s tech shells were his main thing, so his shell being acknowledged in the movie moves his character arc and gives a nod to a big trait that he had in the show. Leo is called out, but he wants to brush it off at first. It’s only when he is told what happens to his family he becomes serious and reevaluates his actions. In rise that is the only way Leo will stop the jokes and take the blame. They addressed Donnie’s eyebrows that he has been drawing on for at least a decade by this point, I respect it. Again, the fact that Donnie didn’t use that much tech in the movie is a detail I like, he also went FERAL when he merged with the spaceship. Turtles getting their mystic powers back because the point of the hamato nimpo is family. The final fight with the mystic powers back IS RISE. The animation, turtles working together and HOT SOUP which is a direct parallel to how they defeated the Shredder. You can say it’s cliché that family is the solution in the end, but in Rise it was always the main focus. The last detail that was almost crucial to a lot of fans, they didn’t erase Cassandra, she is still the original Casey Jones.

In conclusion, what was needed is another tmnt movie. The original characters were cut, Casey Jr. might have been added because of the older sexist demographic. With all of these challenges Rise crew still made it their own. From small details all the way to the final fight. You can watch it regardless if you’ve seen the show or not. I see a lot of people are discovering the show for the first time now and even if it is not someone’s cup of tea there’s a high chance they will enjoy the movie. That’s why Rise is my favorite tmnt cartoon, you can feel the love for the original yet we are given an absolutely new spin on it. Perfectly balanced as it should be.

[actionsurges]

A FURTHER EXPLANATION OF MY DMING PHILOSOPHY

I made a post earlier that was titled something like "anyways here's how to be a good DM" and I never really fully explained the points I made and what that looks like for me when planning and prepping a game. Now that my current short game is mostly through and most of the big reveals have dropped, I'm happy to use it as an explanation for this because I think it's a good example of it on a small scale.

"Give your players a clear idea of the game you want to run and make sure people are on the same page."

What I mean by this is it all comes down to how you present your game. I'm going to be using my three-part heist game. What I did to make sure my group were on the same page was I gave them the following information:

I wanted the game to be split into three parts, the set up to the heist, the heist itself, and the complication / resolution. 

I asked them what sort of heist theme they wanted to do, if their characters had pre-established relationships? What type of item did they want to steal? What atmosphere did they wanted to heist in? And my party settled on stealing a significant item from a semi-public function and that their characters loosely knew of each other. 

I told them about our setting, a floral, horticultural themed city inspired by Italian and Spanish architecture (which also means partially inspired by Al-Andalusian architecture bc nothing in the world is in a vacuum lmao) and with a huge theater/opera scene that is largely only available to the upper class. 

I gave them my house rules for character creation to get them started on the mechanical side

This last one came halfway through me figuring out the plot / partway through they had figured out the character concepts they wanted to pursue but I gave them a more detailed premise of what the heist would be from an in-world perspective and how their character was going to be connected to it. (Imgur Link Here)

Then I set them loose and let them start coming up with character concepts and figuring out how to tie them to the setting and how they influence what the plot will be. Which leads us to-

"Create a situation and put your players in that situation, watch what they do to resolve it, and repeat the process based on what they do."

This doesn't speak to how you build things gradually leading up to a larger plot, but this is how I approach short games, one shots, or the arcs in my long game. I would also say you want to make the situation you're creating connect to the characters in some way whether it's in a plot way or an emotional stakes way.  

My players for the heist game settled on:

A) a down on his luck mafia goon who was being blackmailed by his mafia don using the pc's niece, who he couldn't raise on his own and has no clue she's a bargaining chip because she's grown up in that situation. she's also goth but that's irrelevant.

B) an accomplished but now retired thief who has become an art restorer and still mingles within high society, but worries about his adopted sibling who is still plotting and scheming even after a terrible injury that took her out of the game temporarily.

C) a graduate of an arcane university whose student loans are the reason they've turned to crime, with an unusual connection to a quori adrift in space that is the literal embodiment of the dream of recognition. 

D) a courtesan by 'day' / assassin by 'night, who has fallen in love with the governor's wife, who is both her patron and her patron.

These concepts are what helped me flesh out the heist premise that I ended up giving to them (its in that imgur link above) and helped me start to realize how I wanted to thread things together. As soon as I knew that B had a storied history, I wanted to make that NPC important and ended up making them the plot device and person who got the party together for the heist. When I knew D wanted to have an important archmage patron and was determining what sort of event I wanted them to steal from, something just clicked into place for political race and having her NPC be the governor's wife. I wanted to connect C and the governor's wife via the type of magic they use so they're both connected to the lost planet of aberrations. And then of course, the mafia's going to be involved and have some hand in trying to rig the election for A. 

What this led to was a gala where the following things are going to happen which the party cannot control and could change the course of their plan and how they do the heist:

the governor is going to be assassinated by someone hired by the mafia (revealed to be. a courtesan/assassin bc somehow one of my players sniped an NPC concept I came up with 4 years ago when i first went, huh i want to do a heist game in fantasy italy someday.) 

the mafia don and A's niece will be there

news flash, the special object is holding someone inside it and the party has no clue who or what yet

the ticking pressure of if they'll even be able to make it out with the catastrophic complications, and where their ally, B's sibling is... 

So yeah, that's how I set up a game and a situation. I like to build ways for my players to be connected to the scenario and have a personal stake in it even if it isn't explicitly About Them. They all still get to have great beats that are important to their characters and things to pursue within the structure of the plot and I find that it works well and I recommend the "put these guys in a situation" strategy for any DM that wants to feel like you're giving your players good boundaries to work within and also give them agency to propel the plot. 

I have no clue if my players will make it out of this situation with the rose or with all of their allies or how their interpersonal relationships will be affected, but that's okay. I'm reacting to their strategy and the dice rolls to bring them towards a resolution, whatever that resolution may be and they have the power to affect where they end up because I haven't decided an ending. I haven't assumed that they'll successfully get away with everything they want and everything perfectly resolved but I also haven't assumed they'll end up in jail or dead. It will be what it will be and I'm optimistic and excited to see what they do with the scenario!

Anyway, that's all. Put your guys in problems.

[commentaryvorg]

The Great Ace Attorney Final Trial Commentary: Day 3, Part 1

This is an ongoing mini-commentary covering the final trial of The Great Ace Attorney (Resolve) in line-by-line detail. It’s written from a perspective of already knowing the full truth of things, so there will be spoilers for facts that only get revealed later on in the trial. This is not a commentary to read along with one’s first playthrough!

(The commentary will update on Tuesdays and Saturdays. Check this blog to find any other parts currently posted, and if it’s not yet finished, follow to catch future updates!)

Now that we’re below the readmore, I can add that this isn’t quite a commentary for everything going on in the final trial. It’s focused specifically on Kazuma and what’s going on in his head, only covering things which are relevant to him in some way (for the most part). I already had a lot to say about him in a big analysis post over on my main blog – but I have even more to say about him during the trial in even more detail, so here we are!

Time for the final day of the trial!

Van Zieks:  “On what grounds is Kazuma Asogi permitted to continue in his role as prosecutor? He has admitted to colluding with the victim in a plot to assassinate an innocent man. He shouldn’t be enjoying the privilege of freedom, let alone be leading the prosecution.”

Of course it’s van Zieks who points this out, when nobody else was going to bring it up.

(Kazuma should be in prison right now for a lot more than just this, but we can’t have that, grumble.)

Kazuma:  “I submitted a written petition to Lord Stronghart… requesting that judgement of my transgressions be delayed by one day.” Van Zieks:  “You did what?”

This is probably highly irregular and not something that someone would usually be able to get away with. But Stronghart wants van Zieks convicted and figures Kazuma’s the best person to have do that… and Kazuma is so, so desperate to get to do this.

Kazuma:  “In today’s proceedings… I intend to expose everything. My whole life for the last ten years… has all been leading up to this one day!” Ryunosuke:  “Kazuma…”

Hnnnngh, Kazuma. The outcome of this trial is everything to him, everything he’s been working so hard for, for so long. And now he’s trapped himself in a situation where he has to finish it all today, or else he might never get another chance.

I enjoy Ryunosuke reacting to this, at getting a sense of just how huge this is for his best friend.

Kazuma:  “Whatever the outcome of this trial… I give my word that I will accept whatever punishment is deemed appropriate. However severe.”

Kazuma means this, too; I don’t think he was ever intending to escape repercussions for his actions forever. All the way back when he agreed to the assassination mission in Japan, and when he went with Gregson and threatened him – he probably did all this while fully expecting to face the consequences for it in the end. He just needs to be able to finish getting justice for his father first, before all that happens. Afterwards? It doesn’t matter what happens to him afterwards. So long as he can fulfil his mission, that’s the only thing that’s important.

The ”however severe” especially brings this home. Even if it was capital punishment, which might actually be on the table under the circumstances. He is and has always been determined to avenge his father at any cost, even if it’s literally the last thing he ever does.

Of course, it’s not like he didn’t also have other things he wanted to do with his life – he still did mean it about wanting to study in Britain to be able to improve Japan’s legal system. But all of that is minuscule next to his main goal. He would sacrifice anything for this. Anything.

(The game actually kinda drops the ball on what’s supposedly going to happen with Kazuma’s own trial after this main trial concludes. The writing sort of just forgets about it and doesn’t bring it up again? So I can only assume that the British legal system also kind of forgot about it, or at worst let Kazuma off with only a minor punishment. That certainly feels most fair to me, given that his only real crime was saying that he’d kill someone, which he was emotionally manipulated into in the first place, and that his own guilt over what he’s done is more than punishment enough already. It did rather bother me on my original playthrough, though, that there was this apparent nebulous future punishment for his transgressions hanging over Kazuma’s head, and the game acted like it kind of just didn’t care and didn’t want to push for him getting a reasonably happy ending… until suddenly his ending did come across as reasonably happy after all.)

Ryunosuke:  (Kazuma is bristling with hostility today. I get the distinct impression we’re heading into very dangerous territory.)

I dunno, Ryunosuke; while Kazuma might be even more hostile than usual today out of desperation, we were already deep in quite some territory regarding Kazuma’s twisted tunnel-visioning on van Zieks’s guilt.

Susato:  “Is that even really Kazuma-sama standing before us?”

Oh nooooo, Susato, my heart. Ryunosuke also said something similar during the intervening scene at Baker Street – that Kazuma’s no longer quite the friend he knew and that he’s changed. I really wish the game did more with this! Kazuma is still the person they both know and hasn’t actually changed; it’s just that he’s dealing with a hell of a lot more issues than either of them expected him to have. I wish the narrative had gone more into exploring this and having them realise in the end that he is still their friend, instead of, again, having things between them suddenly be okay again in the ending scene with no real transition.

(There would have been a perfect opportunity for such introspection and development regarding this if only Kazuma had been arrested for Gregson’s murder and Ryunosuke had had to defend him, just saying!!! Again, this is why I wrote my AU fic.)

Ryunosuke:  “The defence is ready, My Lord.” Kazuma:  “The prosecution is more than ready.”

Once again, Kazuma is more than ready. He didn’t say this on the second day of the trial, but today of all days, on which he plans to bring this to an end – on which he has to bring this to an end because he won’t get another chance – of course he’s more ready than he’s ever been.

Jigoku:  “Haah… So it was you who issued this, was it?” Kazuma:  “Your subpoena? …I did what was necessary.”

It’s interesting that the game highlights that it was Kazuma who issued Jigoku’s subpoena. Without that, Sholmes and Mikotoba wouldn’t have been able to bring Jigoku with them off the Grouse yesterday, and he’d have got away. They had the subpoena with them when they went after him, meaning Kazuma must have issued it shortly after the first trial day at the latest, just in case it became necessary.

This is in stark contrast to how Kazuma was on the second trial day, where he was absolutely convinced that Jigoku must have been killed, and it didn’t even seem to occur to him that the court could possibly want to hear testimony from Jigoku about what happened on the Grouse if he did happen to be alive. That is not a Kazuma that I would have imagined preparing a subpoena for Jigoku in advance at all.

I guess what this speaks to is partly a hint of that very small and buried part of Kazuma that isn’t actually sure if van Zieks is guilty and genuinely wants to give him a fair chance. But perhaps it’s also partly a sign of something else I’ve been meaning to bring up at some point – that Kazuma’s tunnel-visioning has been getting worse as this trial’s gone on.

See, I roasted him a lot for his terrible logic yesterday, but it actually wasn’t nearly as bad on day 1! There was that part near the beginning where Susato commended him for not trying to argue that the gun might have belonged to van Zieks – and yet, “this gun could have been van Zieks’s, and so that somehow proves it definitely was, which means he totally did it” is an argument pretty much on par with his day 2 arguments in terms of logic.

So it seems, perhaps, that Ryunosuke casting very valid doubt onto the Fresno Street crime scene on day 1 made Kazuma become more desperate. With less confidence in the actual evidence, he began pulling more and more from his own hatred and twisted justifications that van Zieks is the worst and must be the killer and the Reaper and everything bad, to the point that he ended up with logic as flawed as in yesterday’s session.

Jigoku:  “…but my decision is unrelated to this case. I can’t be bound to testify.” Stronghart:  “Unrelated, you say?” Kazuma:  “………”

Kazuma is again pointedly shown being silent, and I imagine what he’s thinking is similar to what he was probably thinking at the end of the trial yesterday. Jigoku’s actions on the Grouse totally are unrelated to this case, because van Zieks definitely killed Gregson at Fresno Street, and so bringing Jigoku onto the stand is just a dead end that’s going to do nothing but quickly put an end to Ryunosuke’s hypothetical version of events. Right?

Susato:  “It has ties to another murder. A case that was tried in Japan almost a year ago now.” Kazuma:  “A year ago in Japan… The murder of Dr John H. Wilson, you mean?”

Kazuma looks to be in thought for a moment here, as if he’s only just realising the connection Gregson’s assassination has to Wilson’s death.

Kazuma:  “What’s this all about? Why is my name on that list?”

Here, too, is an indication that Kazuma had no idea about this being an entire plot with multiple assassinations such that there’d need to be a list of four names and not just two.

Ryunosuke:  “K. Asogi and A. Shinn… are the names of assassins.” Kazuma:  “No…”

It seems like Kazuma was really hoping he could at least get through things without this assassination agreement also coming to light – but nope.

Ryunosuke:  “…were masterminded by a pair of individuals from each country as a form of assassin exchange! And the telegram the defence has acquired is proof of this international ‘contract’ to kill!” Kazuma:  “Wha… WHAT?!”

And again: Kazuma’s reaction to this is distinctly shocked. He did not have the slightest idea that the assassination he was involved in one of a pair – that back when he was furiously defending Ryunosuke from false charges in Japan last year, that crime was the counterpart to the very murder he’d been forced to agree to himself.

Kazuma:  “Judge Jigoku…? What’s this all about?!”

Kazuma’s pretty forceful in questioning Jigoku here. Obviously he already knew Jigoku wanted him to kill Gregson in England, that’s not a surprise – so this is about the other crime. He’s probably only just realising now that for the entirety of the trial for Wilson’s murder, Jigoku – who was the judge – knew who the real killer was and yet cheerfully tried to get Ryunosuke convicted as a scapegoat. Kazuma faced a lot of roadblocks back then to even be able to defend Ryunosuke in the first place, which he must have at least partially known were thanks to Jigoku; now he understands exactly why.

Meanwhile, Ryunosuke accuses Kazuma of having lied in court yesterday, because his mark wasn’t actually Jigoku but Gregson.

Kazuma:  “……… Very impressive, Ryunosuke. But actually, I didn’t lie.” Ryunosuke:  “…!” Kazuma:  “The name of the target I was ordered to kill never passed my lips yesterday. The idea that Seishiro Jigoku was the mark… came entirely from you!”

I like that we have this one moment of Kazuma getting to show off and draw attention to his incredible skill at hiding the truth without actually lying. He’s done it a lot more than just this once, but explicitly pointing out this one instance invites us to look for other times he’s done the same kind of thing!

He’s also smirking a little bit as he says this. Apparently he feels at least somewhat smug about his prowess in deception-without-lying, although he probably wouldn’t consciously think that.

Ryunosuke:  (You… deliberately avoided saying a name?)

Oh, Ryunosuke, there are so many more things that Kazuma has deliberately avoided saying than just that.

--- Testimony 1 ---

(The game’s chapter select calls this one “Testimony 3”, because it seems to want to treat this day and the previous trial day just one long extended day. Which is pretty silly, because it isn’t. We may have had much less of a proper investigation in between than usual, but it is still day 3 of the trial now! So anyway, I’m going to ignore the game and number these testimonies based on what number they are in this trial day. Add two to these if you want to match them up with what the game calls them.)

Susato:  “To use such a worthy practice as foreign study to coerce somebody to commit murder… It’s the most appalling thing I’ve ever heard!”

Usually-soft-spoken Susato is not pulling her punches! She is incredibly disgusted at her family friend for manipulating Kazuma into agreeing to be an assassin. The fact that she sees foreign study as such a “worthy practice” in itself probably stems from how Kazuma wanted so badly to study in Britain all along – and as far as Susato knew, that was entirely for its own sake and not for a specific purpose.

Jigoku:  “Asogi had a reason for taking his sword to that British inspector, you know.” Ryunosuke:  “What?!” Jigoku:  “Which is why he accepted the mission in the first place. Isn’t that right… Counsel?” Kazuma:  “………”

I’m not convinced I believe this claim of Jigoku’s. Obviously we know Kazuma does have a motive to have wanted Gregson dead, now. But I’m not sure about Jigoku’s implication that Kazuma was aware of that when he took the mission, a year ago. The only person who could have told Kazuma about Gregson’s connection to his father’s case is Jigoku. For one, I’m not entirely sure Jigoku even knew that much, since he was only involved in the prison escape half of the plot – but more pointedly, I doubt he would have wanted to tell Kazuma anything he knew, because that’d cast suspicion on his own role in Genshin’s death, something he very much would not want Kazuma figuring out.

Nonetheless, Kazuma is evasively silent in response to this, because while he may indeed not have known about Gregson’s involvement back then, it’s likely he was able to piece things together enough to suspect something. And of course, it all eventually came to a head with him actually wanting to kill Gregson in that terrible moment, which Kazuma must not enjoy thinking about.

Kazuma:  “As I said yesterday, I’ve killed nobody. I freely admit that I accepted the mission, but on the night the plan was to be executed, I backed out.”

Kazuma is still wording things carefully. While talking about the night in question, he simply says that he didn’t go through with it, and not that he didn’t want to go through with it, because that would be a lie.

Kazuma:  “Gregson was killed after returning to London. In the room on Fresno Street. And the perpetrator of the crime was the Reaper, Barok van Zieks! The prosecution’s accusation remains unchanged.”

Naturally, Kazuma wants to remind everyone that van Zieks, who is definitely the Reaper, definitely did the murder, and everything we’re talking about now is just an irrelevant dead end. He is still genuinely convinced of this.

Susato:  “It’s unforgivable! Using Kazuma-sama’s feelings to manipulate him into agreeing to such a despicable plan…”

In the testimony’s recap dialogue, Susato has more Strong Opinions. I love that she’s thinking about Kazuma’s feelings and fully realises that he was manipulated and should barely be morally condemned for this decision at all. Honestly, I agree with her – despite all of Stronghart’s many crimes, the thing that gives me the biggest emotional reaction out of any of the villains’ actions in this game is Jigoku doing this to Kazuma. He knew that Kazuma was so desperate to get to Britain that he’d agree to absolutely anything if it was presented as his only way to do so, and ugh. To his friend’s son, and all. What a bastard.

Ryunosuke:  “But I think Kazuma manipulated Judge Jigoku, too. He completely double-crossed him.” Susato:  “Oh dear… It’s hard not to see that as a stroke of brilliance on Kazuma-sama’s part…”

I wouldn’t quite call it “brilliance” when it was as simple as “not keeping the promise he never wanted to be forced to make in the first place”, but I’m still with Susato here. Kazuma didn’t do anything wrong by refusing to go through with Jigoku’s expectations when Jigoku was the one who wronged him first by expecting him to do it at all.

Susato:  “I know I shouldn’t let my emotions cloud my judgement… but you must destroy him, Mr Naruhodo!”

Yesss, Susato. Love her being so furious on Kazuma’s behalf, not even caring that Jigoku is a respected figure and a family friend.

Kazuma:  “I thought it was a joke at first, of course. But then… it was made clear to me that if I didn’t accept, I wouldn’t be considered for the study tour.” Ryunosuke:  “So, so you agreed to it… just for that?! I mean, I know how much you wanted to study in Britain, but… assassination?!”

Ugh, I get it, but it still hurts to see Ryunosuke react with horror like this. You know he wasn’t planning to go through with it, Ryunosuke! His only crime was agreeing to something shady without any intent to follow through!

But even then, it’s still not remotely something he would have expected from his best friend a year ago.

Kazuma:  “………”

Kazuma’s not trying to defend himself. No doubt he always felt guilty about hiding this from his friend, and always expected it would make Ryunosuke think less of him.

Ryunosuke:  “Why Kazuma? Why did you pick him as the assassin?” Jigoku:  “He was the most capable of all the applicants. And in addition… I knew his desire to travel to Britain was very strong. In fact, it was almost more than a desire. It was his whole purpose in life.”

Ugh. Jigoku knew exactly how desperate Kazuma was and took advantage of that. He couldn’t risk bringing up the assassination mission to any potential candidate unless he was already sure that they would agree, lest they just turn him in to the police. But Kazuma was someone he could be certain would agree to this, so long as Jigoku threatened his chances to ever make it to Britain if he didn’t.

And conveniently, the candidate who was so utterly desperate to do this that he’d agree to an assassination for it was also the candidate who’d studied ridiculously hard to the point that he was the most capable applicant anyway and it wouldn’t look suspicious. Funny, that.

Kazuma:  “There’s nothing I wouldn’t have done to get here. Be that agreeing to assume the role of an assassin… or betraying people’s trust.”

Guhhhhhh, Kazumaaaa. This line really punches me in the gut with how completely desperately determined Kazuma was and is. And it’s interesting that he’s saying this to justify his decision… but he didn’t do so just a little earlier when Ryunosuke was directly accusing him. This time it’s directed more at Jigoku, or just the court in general. Perhaps he doesn’t really feel like these words would be enough to justify his actions to his best friend.

The “betraying people’s trust” part especially hit hard on my first playthrough. What with the more distant and hostile way he’d been acting lately, it felt like Kazuma could have been talking about betraying Ryunosuke’s trust. Aaaagh.

Jigoku:  “Well, you certainly did a fine job of betraying mine, Asogi.”

What Kazuma actually means, though, is this. He promised Jigoku he would carry out the assassination, Jigoku trusted him with it… and then he betrayed that.

And yet it’s so incredibly grossly entitled of Jigoku to be angry at Kazuma over this when he was the one who betrayed Kazuma’s trust in the first place by forcing him into this at all. If he had any sense, he wouldn’t have trusted Kazuma’s promise, when it was a promise made out of coercion.

(I guess this is Jigoku being mad that this then meant he had be the one to murder Gregson in the end. Oh no, you had to get your hands dirty yourself instead of coercing the son of the friend you also killed into doing it for you, how terrible.)

Ryunosuke:  “But why was Inspector Gregson the target?” Jigoku:  “I have no idea. Those were the orders from Britain. I was in no position to question them.” Kazuma:  “You have no idea? Really? I find that hard to believe.”

Kazuma’s right to. Not only is he bound to suspect that Jigoku knew something about Gregson’s involvement in his father’s death from his time in Britain ten years ago, but also, Jigoku literally just told the court that Kazuma had a reason to kill Gregson, which definitely implies that he knows the reason too!

Ryunosuke:  “Obviously, Kazuma didn’t actually die at all. But he did lose his memory. Including all details about his special mission.” Kazuma:  “………”

This bit is very rude to me personally, because on my first playthrough, I thought, “Why are they making a point of Kazuma’s silence here? Surely this is meant as a hint that he didn’t really lose his memory?” Which led me to continue to entertain that fervent theory of mine just a little more, even after I’d mostly abandoned it. First-time-me had further ammo for it by this point, too, because wanting to pretend he’d forgotten about his assassination mission would have been a very plausible reason for Kazuma to have faked amnesia!!!

In reality, we can presume that the actual reason the narrative is making a point of Kazuma’s silence is that he’s thinking about how losing his memory was painful and difficult, but god forbid Kazuma ever actually talk about or openly acknowledge the suffering he’s been through.

Kazuma:  “But I’d never intended to go through with the assassination mission anyway.”

Again, some very careful phrasing. He had never intended. Meaning he’s referring to a period of time in the past, around when he accepted the mission, at which point he did not intend to go through with it. A certain point in time much closer to the present day? He’s not talking about that point in this sentence. That would be a lie.

Jigoku:  “So you were playing me right from the outset, were you? Is that it?” Kazuma:  “I’d sooner be guilty of that crime than of taking someone else’s life. I was prepared to do whatever I had to in order to get myself here to Britain.”

Yes, Jigoku, and you should have realised from the start that he was planning to repay you in kind.

It is something that Kazuma still considers this – simply double-crossing Jigoku and making a false promise he intended to break – to be a “crime”. Kazuma cares a lot about honour and integrity, and it really hurt him to have to tarnish that in order to make it to Britain! Even though he was only doing this to somebody who’d already done much worse to him. Really, Kazuma, don’t beat yourself up over this – Jigoku deserved it.

Ryunosuke:  “I suppose Inspector Gregson was there in his capacity as the Reaper… He was intending to take the witness’s life.” Kazuma:  “Exactly. As I’ve said numerous times now, I had no intention of killing anyone.”

Once again, Kazuma is referring to a specific time period here – the point at which he and Gregson entered Jigoku’s cabin. At that point, he had no intention of killing anyone. Later than that? He’s not talking about that. Because he doesn’t lie.

It’s also starting to seem just a little suspiciously specific that Kazuma keeps repeating that he had no intention of doing any murders. Overcompensating for that guilt much, Kazuma?

Kazuma:  “I stayed to talk with Inspector Gregson for a short while… and then I left him there and made my way off the ship alone.” Ryunosuke:  “Was the guard still at the door when you went?” Kazuma:  “Yes. He glared at me as I walked past.”

Yes, just a short, casual conversation in which nothing at all serious happened, don’t worry about the blade tip in Gregson’s trunk, it’s totally irrelevant to the case.

Given that Kazuma must have been in rather a panicked state of mind after finding himself wanting to kill Gregson and very nearly doing it, it sure is something that he then immediately passed by the guard glaring at him. He must have managed to put up one hell of a poker face.

It’s surprising that the crewman didn’t hear the sound of Karuma hitting Gregson’s trunk, honestly, but then that could easily have led to Kazuma being arrested, and we can’t have that, apparently

(…Actually, scratch that – there’s a specific reason he wouldn’t have heard it. Someone had muffled the speaking tube in the cabin with a piece of cloth, which likely wouldn’t have drowned out a gunshot, but I could buy it muffling less loud sounds. It’s never revealed who did that, but it could very easily have been Kazuma, given that he wouldn’t have wanted anybody to overhear him threatening Gregson.)

Ryunosuke:  “But a hole like that made by a bullet was found in your cabin, Judge Jigoku! That’s compelling evidence that a gun was fired in there!” Kazuma:  “What’s that? A bullet hole…?”

Yes, Kazuma, speaking of bullet holes—

…That aside, Kazuma’s reacting to this in surprise because he’s only just realising that Ryunosuke has actual evidence that the murder might have occurred there. What do you mean it could have actually been Jigoku who did it, and not van Zieks.

(Jigoku goes on to write off the bullet hole as totally just woodworm or something, and Kazuma probably justifies it that way in his head, too.)

Kazuma:  “All crewmen were… away from their posts?!”

Kazuma also reacts to this. He’d been seeing Jigoku’s testimony as open and shut, he obviously couldn’t have done it because the guard would have heard the gunshot – what do you mean it actually was possible after all?!

Kazuma:  “A twenty-minute window of opportunity… That’s an excellent find, Ryunosuke. But it amounts to nothing!”

Even though he’s proud of his friend for figuring something out, Kazuma is still quick to brush this off as definitely irrelevant, because a mere possibility isn’t proof that anything actually happened.

(Funny how he’s able to acknowledge that proving something is possible is not the same as proving that it definitely happened that way, now that we’re talking about it being someone other than van Zieks who maybe did the murder.)

Kazuma:  “Unless you have some decisive evidence […]… your accusation is nothing more than conjecture!”

So is yours, Kazuma! Someone is still managing to forget this.

Ryunosuke:  “Judge Jigoku! This was found in your cabin yesterday.” Stronghart:  “What is that? The crown of a pocket watch?”

Interestingly, it seems Sholmes missed out a few details when he passed the evidence from his investigation of the cabin onto Ryunosuke. The crown of the watch was actually found in Jigoku’s trunk, which is distinctly not the same thing as his cabin. It could have been in the trunk without ever actually being in the cabin itself, so this technically doesn’t prove Gregson was attacked in the cabin… but on the other hand, it being in the trunk pretty much already proves that Gregson was inside there at some point. That’s not something the game wants us to get to just yet, so instead we have this little discrepancy that’s honestly very easy to not even notice (and makes sense to have happened, since Sholmes could have just not mentioned it).

Ryunosuke:  “Moreover, this crown is a perfect fit on the spindle protruding from the victim’s watch.” Kazuma:  “…!”

Kazuma’s shown being alarmed as he realises that Ryunosuke has some actual compelling evidence here. But barely a minute later…

Kazuma:  “Expertly manoeuvred, Ryunosuke.” Ryunosuke:  “…!” Kazuma:  “And your argument sounds entirely plausible… at first. But rather like this pocket watch, it’s full of cracks.”

…even despite praising his friend (I love how Kazuma’s always proud of Ryunosuke for coming up with his arguments even as he’s shooting them down, they are friends), he’s already figured out a way out of it. It’s probably easier than it would otherwise be to come up with ways in which this still doesn’t prove Jigoku’s guilt when you’re utterly convinced that van Zieks must have done it.

--- Testimony 2 ---

Jigoku:  “When I walked through the door, a mustachioed Englishman was there, foolishly waving a gun at me.”

Here’s an interesting point: I don’t think Gregson actually did point a gun at Jigoku. Sure, he was technically supposed to kill him since Kazuma had walked out, but I don’t believe he actually wanted to, given that Jigoku isn’t the kind of irredeemable criminal that the Reaper usually kills. He was probably feeling pretty conflicted about this whole mission, especially with his imminent transfer to France in which he was going to finally be done with all this murdering.

That and, if Gregson had had his gun out during their struggle, it rather begs the question… why didn’t Jigoku do the murder with Gregson’s gun? That would have been much easier to pin on somebody else, because anyone could theoretically have turned Gregson’s gun on him. As it is, by using his own gun, Jigoku limited the possible suspects to other judiciary members who carry the same model of gun (and coincidentally happen to have misplaced theirs). Framing Hugh Boone, like he'd originally intended to, wouldn’t actually have worked, because where would that guy have obtained such a weapon?

Ryunosuke:  “Far from being impossible for you to do… the transporting of Inspector Gregson’s body back to Britain is something ONLY you could do!” Kazuma:  “What are you talking about, Ryunosuke?”

Kazuma’s leaning forward and seeming quite urgent with this. What do you mean, it was possible, and maybe Jigoku did do it, and not van Zieks.

Ryunosuke:  “The actual scene of the crime…” Kazuma:  “The prosecution’s stance is unaltered. The killing took place on Fresno Street when the gunshot was heard… as the accused, Barok van Zieks, shot the victim at point blank range!”

Kazuma’s still insisting on this, again. He has to be starting to think by this point that maybe Ryunosuke’s onto something, but no, it was definitely van Zieks, it has to be.

Stronghart:  “Since no tangible evidence exists to disprove the prosecution’s claim at this time…”

No tangible evidence has existed to prove it for quite some time now!!!

The part where you have to prove Gregson couldn’t have been shot at Fresno Street because he died instantly and couldn’t have curled up like that is a bit silly and unintuitive. This is something Ryunosuke could have pointed out at any point earlier in the trial, to support his argument that the murder took place elsewhere! I suppose it makes some sense that it’s coming up now, because now that we know Gregson’s body was in a trunk, we have an explanation for why he was curled up, but still.

(But then if Ryunosuke had brought it up earlier, that might have been seen as actual proof that Kazuma’s argument is all wrong, because apparently the scorch marks on the candle were not already enough proof of that, even though they were and just got conveniently brushed aside and forgotten.)

Also, we could have just skipped this awkward unintuitive bit by simply forcing Jigoku to present his trunk for inspection, which would prove it anyway.

Ryunosuke:  “…before it was coldly turned out on the floor… from the inside of a large travel trunk!” Kazuma:  “No!”

Anyway, here’s Kazuma with a powerfully shocked reaction as he realises how much sense Ryunosuke’s argument makes and that Gregson couldn’t have been killed at Fresno Street at all.

Jigoku:  “Present my trunk? I refuse!” Kazuma:  “What?!”

What do you mean Jigoku’s being suspicious in a way that implies he obviously did it?!

Stronghart:  “Well, Mr Jigoku… what’s it to be?” Jigoku:  “………” Kazuma:  “You can’t be serious! You did it?!”

What do you mean, Jigoku did it, and it really wasn’t van Zieks at all???

Kazuma’s reaction here goes to show that he had still genuinely managed to keep convincing himself it was van Zieks until only just now, when the truth becomes completely impossible to deny.

And then Jigoku admits to moving the body but accuses Kazuma of the actual murder in a last-ditch effort to defend himself, which is far too little too late, grumble grumble. There’s no interesting narrative tension surrounding the question of whether Kazuma really might have done it when it’s already so obviously Jigoku at this point!

Jigoku:  “As you know, there was one other person in my cabin that night. He had the opportunity.”

We’ve known that Kazuma theoretically had the opportunity to do the murder for a while now, which is such a juicy point, but the narrative’s done nothing with it until just now! Like, I get why Ryunosuke and Susato wouldn’t want to think about it, but why has nobody else even pointed out this possibility until it already became clear the killer was someone else anyway???? Bah.

Stronghart:  “Well… the prosecution counsel has already admitted to visiting the witness’s cabin on the night in question.”

And this is all we get from Stronghart on the matter – the vaguest indication that he’d be more okay with throwing Kazuma under the bus for this than Jigoku. Because somehow he was not more okay with sacrificing Kazuma rather than van Zieks, even after Kazuma had repeatedly shown himself to be impossible to keep in line.

There’s not even that much narrative weight behind Ryunosuke being the one to prove Kazuma’s innocence in this one brief moment here, because Kazuma could perfectly well have done it himself anyway!

The “Overture to Pursuit” music kicks in about here as Ryunosuke begins to do so, which is a track that I love and that usually gets me really hyped. But no matter how much the music wants me to be, I can’t get hyped here over the fact that it was always literally impossible for Kazuma to have done this murder. He just had a freaking alibi the entire time, removing any potential for tension over whether or not it could have been him!!! Why.

And the thing is, Kazuma’s alibi is a really incidental, offhand sort of thing. Him staying at that boarding house in Dunkirk is only mentioned one other time and isn’t connected to any other part of the plot – it could have been completely removed while keeping everything else intact! This is particularly notable when almost every other plot point in this narrative serves multiple purposes for the story one way or another. Kazuma’s Dunkirk stay is one of the only things that doesn’t! It’s just… there, purely to give him an alibi and nothing else.

This means that it would have been so, so easily possible to write a story in which Kazuma theoretically could have done the deed and we’d actually had something come of this! If he’d just been on the ship the whole time – perhaps because the cabin’s guard had actually done his job and refused them entry due to Kazuma’s two fricking swords, meaning they had to wait until that window when all the crewmen left – then Kazuma would have been a perfectly viable suspect!

But nope, he just gets an alibi, making it that easy to prove his innocence when things actually come to this. Grumble grumble grumble.

(I think I am probably done complaining about this, finally, now that we’ve got past this point. Please read my fic in which Kazuma does get arrested if this idea seems enticing to you too.)

Jigoku:  “To lure the man in, he was given a sham mission by the Reaper.” Ryunosuke:  “W-What?!” (The Reaper…?) Kazuma:  “But there’s only one person who could have done that! The mastermind of the entire operation: the Reaper himself!” Ryunosuke:  “Ah!” Susato:  “So… that means the assassin exchange was… It was all planned by the Reaper!”

Kazuma is the first person to jump on this and point out that Jigoku has just effectively told the court that the Reaper mastermind and the exchange mastermind are the same person. As I touched on earlier, Kazuma would already have been pretty sure of that himself due to the circumstances of him getting the mission to supposedly kill Gregson, and he’d have been itching for an opportunity to prove as much in court, so that he can use his father’s case as evidence that van Zieks is the Reaper.

Jigoku:  “I decided that man [Hugh Boone] would be the perfect person to set up as the culprit.”

Framing van Zieks was actually an unexpected accident! While it’s a little frustrating that this means that Stronghart’s insistence on using this trial to get rid of van Zieks (and not Kazuma for some reason) wasn’t even planned, it does actually matter that Jigoku’s intended scapegoat was not van Zieks, as we’ll see later.

Kazuma:  “………”

Kazuma’s shown silently uncomplaining as Stronghart accepts Jigoku’s confession. No doubt he’s just waiting until he can get to the part where he accuses van Zieks of being the Reaper and the man who ordered Jigoku to kill Gregson.

Ryunosuke:  “Mr Jigoku! One last detail! Who was your counterpart in Britain? Who was the mastermind behind the assassin exchange?” Jigoku:  “………” Ryunosuke:  “Nothing you say now can make matters any worse for you! Just tell us!”

Ryunosuke’s got a point here – Jigoku’s apparently going to go down for murder, so he really shouldn’t have anything to lose. Even the fact that Stronghart’s holding him shooting Genshin over his head shouldn’t really matter any more, because one murder or two doesn’t make a difference to the death penalty. (Although I do suspect that Jigoku might feel a certain amount of personal guilt over shooting his friend dead, to the point that he just doesn’t want anyone to know about that, regardless of the consequences.)

But mostly, I think the reason Jigoku insists he can’t say anyway is that, despite what he keeps saying, it’s not actually over for him. Not as long as Stronghart’s still able to pull some strings behind the scenes to get him out of this.

Stronghart:  “Seishiro Jigoku, it is the opinion of this court that you should be found… Guilty. And may I remind all those present of the strict confidentiality demanded by this closed court!”

Stronghart’s approach here certainly implies he’s planning as much. Look, everyone, he’s unofficially declared him guilty here, so that totally counts right? And nobody’s allowed to tell anybody that this happened – which means nobody can complain if Jigoku conveniently gets let off the hook in his actual trial later.

(It is a bit silly that it does the whole flames-in-the-scales thing for the Guilty, but not only is that setup for Stronghart’s breakdown later, declaring an unofficial verdict here actually does make some sense with the manipulation Stronghart’s trying to pull for Jigoku. See – most things in this story serve multiple purposes!)

Anyway, that was a point I found interesting and non-obvious enough that I wanted to talk about it even though it has nothing much to do with Kazuma, but let’s get back to Kazuma.

Stronghart:  “In short, the defendant’s innocence has therefore been established beyond doubt.” Kazuma:  “………”

Kazuma’s still biding his time, just waiting for the perfect moment to object and argue that no, it hasn’t.

Ryunosuke:  “I’m just a little troubled… by his silence.”

Ryunosuke notices it too! He knows his friend – which in this instance means he knows Kazuma’s fervent determination to convict van Zieks well enough to be sure he’s not just going to give up and accept defeat like this.

Stronghart:  “I hereby declare the defendant, Barok van Zieks………” Kazuma:  “Objection!”

Seriously, Kazuma, you really were just waiting for the most dramatic possible moment, weren’t you? Dork.

[purrincess-chat]

I think I know now why the writers decided in favor of pre-reveal Adrienette. Adrien desperately needs someone to be there for him in his civilian life and inspire him to solve his problems. Unfortunately, Ladybug can't do it without one or both of them revealing their identities, and I guess now isn't the time for an identity reveal yet. What do you think?

I think what a lot of people in the fandom forget is that seasons 4 and 5 were written together, so this whole arc over the last couple of seasons was planned at the same time. It wasn't a random occurrence or the writers just up and deciding to throw something in for shits and giggles. It was deliberate, and likely important for whatever plans they have moving forward.

As a writer, I understand the importance of having the whole picture, which is why I often just tell people to wait and see what happens. Additionally, because I am accustomed to view storytelling from a writing lens, I can say that pre reveal Adrinette wasn't that surprising to me. I saw the hints and signs of it since s1, and especially after what happened in s4, I can see why Adrinette is happening over the other sides. There were certain key developments throughout season 4 that lead to where we are now.

I think the other factor goes along with what you're saying in that we don't fully know the extent of the Agreste plotline yet. We have a lot of speculation, but we don't know it as well as the writers do. I definitely think there is something to what you're saying. Adrien can't go to Ladybug about his home life, which is a very huge problem for his character. His home life has been at the center of this show just as much as the love square. His home life has been the main plot since s1 because everything in the show is linked to it. And one of the main reasons I've appreciated this season so much is it's finally allowing Adrien to speak up and realize that something in his life is very wrong, and he needs help. He needs someone to support him and help him stand up for himself because he can't (either because he's a sentibeing and literally cannot bc he is being controlled or bc the psychological abuse is so bad. Possibly both). And you could argue that they should just reveal their identities already, but the thing is, canon only gets 1 shot to do the permanent reveal. It's not like fanfic where we can write as many reveals as we want. Canon gets 1. And idk about yall, but as someone who has been in this fandom for years, I want that 1 moment to be the biggest one in the show because it has been the whole shtick of this show since it premiered. I want it to be good, ya know?

The way I see it, this season had a two fold problem as it relates to Adrinette. The first one is the situation with Adrien and his homelife, and they set Marinette up to be his person for that at the end of s4 (I mean honestly she kind of has been for a while, but Risk really drove that point home). The second is Marinette's trauma surrounding love. Because of everything, she convinced herself that she was not worthy of love and could not have love because it leads her to making big mistakes. It's clearly an issue the writers wanted to resolve before the reveal. Why? We will have to find out, but my best guess is they have other plans for post reveal that require them to be past this point and go through all of the development they're going through. Everything I've seen and read has told me this season is wrapping up the Agreste plotline we've been following since s1, and we are seeing evidence of that with how things have been progressing. I'm not gonna spoil later episodes for those who haven't watched, but it's clear that something final is going to happen on that front this season. And with how fucked up that whole situation is, yeah, I can see why they gave Adrien a cute gf to hold his hand and help him through it just like I can see why they gave Marinette a cute and patient bf to hold her hand and help her through her shit. Narratively, with everything we've been given, it makes sense to me.

So, yeah, I can see where you're coming from. I think there is more to it, but I think that is one of the reasons we're seeing pre reveal Adrinette this season. I think we also forget that the writers like the love square too. I'm sure they've been waiting for this moment just as long, if not longer, than we have. But they have to be purposeful with how they do things in order to tell the story they're trying to tell. I think this season as well as s4 will make a lot more sense once we have all of it, and we can go back and watch everything in context and see where all the threads were leading. MLs biggest struggle has always been the broadcasting schedule and leaks. People get spoiled to things they don't have context for yet and then run with wild assumptions and bad faith interpretations. It's unfortunately been this way since s1, so I don't see it getting better. 🤷‍♀️ Either way, I think you're definitely on the right track, and I'm curious to see how the rest of their relationship unfolds and bridges the gap we have between episode 11 and episode 20. I think the missing episodes will provide a lot of context that we are missing.

[deeplyridiculouslyinlove]

I finished book 14 - and the series!! Minus New Spring which I am about to start :D

I’m not going to lie, I cried throughout many parts of that giant last battle scene. I also have some gripes that I’ll talk about, but I think it’s important to note that it definitely did grab me emotionally!

Overall for the book, I think I would have been good with it being like half as long. That’s just personal preference because I don’t care that much about the battle parts, but I also got confused with the constant jumping around for literally half the book - I didn’t feel like I got as much time with each character as I would have liked.

Overall for the series, I really just would have loved more “show don’t tell.” Rand’s “compassion” suddenly becomes a major plot point this book, when we’ve never seen him being compassionate?? Unless it means his weird “I don’t kill women” thing, which I would argue is actually the opposite of compassion - it’s dehumanizing to both women and men and compassion is rooted in seeing people’s humanity. But otherwise Rand is just grumpy and then mean until book like 12, yet we’re supposed to believe one of his core values is “compassion” because he thinks it in a narrative chapter? Show don’t tell not being followed is the root of so many other issues I have with the series too, most critically the weird romantic relationships.

Speaking of the romantic relationships, I think the more powerful parallel would be if Rand loved only *one* person that was Ilyena’s soul reborn again. Particularly because I’ve never understood why Lews Therin is the only prior Dragon Rand hears/is, given that my understanding is there will be literally continual Dragons? I think the parallel would have been more powerful if Ilyena was also reborn into this age, and thus fated to love Rand. To make the Rand fated to polygamy thing make any sense I have to hear Siuan in the show asking Moiraine, “Why would the wheel split the dragon’s soul into many?” and then it fits my head cannon, and that’s fine, but like … it could have been actual cannon if Rand hadn’t needed all these women as plot devices. We finally learn why Rand loves Elayne this book and like - would have been great to know that eight books ago. Also would have loved a similar chapter for Min and Aviendha. At least Aviendha gets good characterization thoughout - poor Min just becomes “Rand lover.”

Okay for the book 14 gripes:

- This peace treaty comes sort of out of nowhere. War between the countries isn’t really a theme of the books up to now, but suddenly peace is Rand’s whole purpose? Like yes we hear about wars here and there but I at least didn’t get the impression it was like constant fighting.

- I’m very confused how the great captains are compelled only for battle related things, when we otherwise see compulsion as fully taking over people’s minds?

- Siuan’s death feels very anticlimactic. What does she even die protecting? I feel like it should be given more emotional resonance. Also why does everyone only die in this last book. If they’re going to kill off key characters they should do it throughout the series so we get a sense of the stakes - in the last book it’s just like “okay well I’m done with these characters now anyway” lol.

- I almost threw up when Leane thought verbatim, “It was remarkable what a woman could achieve with less.” This is literally regressive propaganda!!

- I am deeply troubled with the way the Seanchan plot was resolved (or not resolved). The male characters basically become okay with Damane as the books go on, which already gave me great pause. And then I thought only those who chose to become Damane were allowed to be treated as Damane per the treaty, but then oh, nevermind, it’s okay to make Moghidien one because she’s a bad woman. The books show this as basically a fitting end for her, just like Elaida. Umm excuse me? No male Forsaken has to spend his eternity being humiliated and punished and treated like a literal animal. The fact that the books end with a moral relativism position on a system that is very similar to the chattel slavery system is really gross, I’m sorry.

[sizeable-star-wars]

Major Ahsoka Episode 1 and 2 Spoilers below.

This is my brief review of the first two episodes.

Ugh, Disney. For five minutes, can you not write formulaic, predicable stories. FOR FIVE MINUTES?!

I'll start off with things I like:

1) The Fan Service is strong with this one. Ahsoka is good, Rosario Dawson once again delivers a good performance. Having Hera featuring so heavily in it is great too, her actress does a good job. They even get a very good facsimily of Ezra, which was a nice bit. Hopefully they put him to good use.

2) The supporting cast have given good performances too. The male "Jedi?" seems cool, and his Apprentice is interesting. Though I predict she is going to change sides down the line. She just has that air about her.

3) The effects are good, on par with usual Star Wars. However some of the practical alien costumes are a bit... stunted. There's a Mon-Calamari officer at the start who can't seem to flex his lower arms or his fingers, just like the Rhodian guy in Book of Boba Fett.

4) Chopper is a highlight, a fun highlight 😄 You can tell what he's trying to say. Hopefully we get to see him commit more w*r cr*mes! 😄

5) The HK Droids are awesome. While they're not like our beloved HK-47, they are still decent side-adversaries.

Now for the things I don't like:

1) It is so, so predictable and formulaic. Ahsoka shows Sabine the show's first McGuffin device (more on that later) and tells her to stay put. Sabine did not stay put.

Sabine makes the McGuffin work, only for the enemy to show up and steal it. Things go bad. But luckily they left behind a clue for them to follow!

They go to the place, and surprise-surprise, people loyal to the bad guys are there! The bad guys escape, but not before a tracking beacon gets put on their ship!

It's just so formulaic and by the numbers. Andor didn't have this, I didn't predict much about that. This was entirely predictable, like they read a book on story tropes and just put it all in there!

2) Sabine gets stabbed through the stomach by a lightsaber. And she's fine! Totally fine after what, a day in hospital? No lasting injuries, no death, barely an inconvenience. First Reva (a literal child) and now Sabine. Poor Qui-Gon must be very grumpy after all these others surviving being stabbed! Her internal organs should be cooked! She should be dead!

But nope, Lightsabers just aren't what they used to be. Yet all those soldiers at the start die instantly from being slashed across the chest or arm. They forgot their plot armour!

3) The typical "Estranged Master and Student" thing with Ahsoka and Sabine. So predictable, they seem to do this all the time. They waste a good portion of time with them arguing or speculating about whether it's worth reuniting again. And they resolve that after two episodes, which is at least brief by most arcs.

4) The fight choreography isn't great. Not as bad as the Sequel Trilogy, but not great either. Gone are the days of the beautiful prequel fights. There's a point where Ahsoka is fighting the "Not Inquisitor" and is in a lightsaber bind with him, but one of her sabers is behind his. So she just had to flick it, and he's decapitated. Same goes for Sabine fighting the Apprentice. Very, very stunted and plenty of exploitable moments from both fighters. Sabine being out of practice, I can understand. But the Apprentice was giving her plenty of openings and also ignoring Sabine's lack of experience too.

That's my basic summary, I'm happy to discuss more with people who want to 😊

5) The McGuffin device! Yet another star map which leads to the person everyone is looking for! Just like Luke Jake Skywalker! How did they even know that was where he went? He got sent there by Ezra and the magical Hyperspace Whales! Did the Ancient Nightsisters forsee it somehow? Or did they know that the Hyperspace Whales would go there? Is that their home?

Disney, please stop with the McGuffin devices! Please, come up with something original! 😭

[meanderingstar]

Hi, I was wondering what you thought of Priory of the Orange Tree and if you're planning on reading the upcoming prequel?

I gave it 2.5-rounded-to-3 stars

honestly, I think the book was very mediocre. It took me a while to acknowledge that to myself because I wanted to like it very badly and was caught up in my own anticipation and hype, but I was very dissatisfied during my reread months ago. Please keep in mind, though, that these are purely my opinions; if I criticize something and someone else is able to overlook/enjoy it, it's fine.

Ultimately, I think the crux of my issue with the book is that a collection of interesting (albeit staple) ideas and in-depth research does not automatically translate to good storytelling.

Its pacing was abysmal - it was too long, it started too slowly and ended too fast, and it's genuinely bizarre that in a book with multiple kingdoms and a looming draconic apocalypse, we spend more than half the story following a single nation's daily court life + political intrigues that ultimately has no literal or thematic connection to the overarching plot and felt very disjointed and aimless as a result. It also wastes too much time on incessant filler descriptions about irrelevant details + scenarios that don't matter. When the grand finale against the Nameless One finally arrives, it lasts for less than a chapter and is resolved with embarrassing ease; I recently saw an ask that compared it to the final battle of Blood of Olympus, and that's a hilariously apt comparison. The book could and should have been trimmed down, because it could have been easily concluded in just half the page length.

It had an incredibly uneven and unbalanced focus: The West is given immensely more attention and pagetime than the East, which results in the latter seeming reactive, unimportant and vague in comparison. Many people have commented that dragons, despite being used to hype up the book pre-release, were minimally present in the story. The Pri/ory of the Or/ange Tree, despite giving the book its name, also plays an extremely negligible role in the story and barely receives any pagetime; it's also extremely ridiculous that a society of magic-wielding women whose entire purpose resolves around the Nameless One doesn't even fight in the final battle against him. Ead (I'll get to her in a bit, I have a lot to say) is the only one who gets a role. This is explained from an in-universe perspective, yes, but from a writer's perspective, my question is: what's the point of glorifying the Priory, of emphasizing the truth of Cleolind's history, if her legacy doesn't even matter to the plot beyond the actions of one member? I don't know if this is a criticism or a skeptical observation; take your pick.

The book also felt very flat, which was the most irritating aspect to me personally because I'm drawn to books based on their sheerness and the emotions they invoke, and while the language of this story was descriptive, the tone was dry, lifeless and monotonous. It had no sense of stakes and failed to invoke plausible surprise, tension or dread - characters having arguments is written with the exact same intensity as a world-ending apocalyptic battle. The Nameless One is an utterly lackluster villain: despite being told that he is terrifying, we don't feel it because the pov character (Ead) has a negligible emotional reaction; and he's defeated in less than a chapter with barely any difficulty.

Everything also felt far too convenient. The plot is full of ridiculous coincidences where characters just happen to stumble upon objects they need to find or people they need to meet - and so there's no actual sense of anticipation or active engagement. To give you some examples: Loth has to infect himself with a life-threatening, lethal plague to escape? No worries, it's just temporary, there's an easy cure that a group of people have vigorously hidden for 1000 years but he's given explicit directions to find. This results in a global, terminal plague seeming like nothing more than an aesthetical backdrop with no direct relevance to the story. A legendary sword has been missing for centuries, has been hunted for several queens to no avail, and is crucial to defeating the big bad dragon? No matter, it's conveniently connected to two characters despite no prior indication of such a relation, its vague location is almost instantly predicted and its precise location is directly fed to another character via a riddle that took her about two seconds to crack. Multiple nations with rivalries, cold wars, and deadly feuds are meant to ally together for an apocalyptic threat with no concrete evidence except for a random letter written by a woman who is regarded as a myth in one continent and almost completely unknown in another? It hardly matters because all of nations - I kid you not, ALL OF THEM - agree to ally with barely any conflict and without the traditionally established (as per our world and their own) pact of marriage. It's fine if these things happen once or twice; coincidences can be fun. But the plot of Pri/ory is not just laden with them, it's dependent on them. It would crumble without them.

Oh, and hardly anyone dies. A lethal plague, feuding kingdoms, fire-breathing dragons, a (poorly written) grand battle on the sea, and hardly anyone dies except for a few negligible side characters. Lmao.

The characters are stiff and abstract with little to no emotional resonance, at least not for me, which is a symptom of her descriptive but dry, overly formal tone, but also because 1) the author relied too heavily on broader concepts, aesthetics and superficial personalities to define and differentiate them, and 2) wrote a book with an incredibly uneven chapter focus between her povs. Her characters also had very similar internal voices: the vocabulary used and the way scenes/scenarios are described, for instance, are exactly the same in all their povs except certain instances with Niclays, despite their vastly different backgrounds and backstories.

I was very bored/dissatisfied with the pov characters in particular. Loth and Niclays were barely relevant to the plot and could easily be scrapped with little to no change to the overall story. Tane had the most potential: the combination of relentless ambition and haunting fear, the brief moment of greatness before the inevitable fall, and the grieving climb back to the sky was fascinating as a concept, although the dryness of the book obstructed its resonance. But she's constantly given the short end of the stick: she's barely present in the middle of the book and her relationships with people from the East are barely explored (eg: Susa's death, despite its importance to Tane's story, was utterly unimpactful to me because we barely knew Susa at all beyond what we are told about her relation to Tane). Even worse, although she's supposed to be one of the two main characters as a wielder of a jewel, her connection to the overarching story feels purely coincidental and disjointed. She had no arc of discovering the threat on her own the way characters from the West were afforded; instead, it's only due to her link to them that she becomes involved in the main plot at all. Loth tells her about the Nameless One, she and her dragon are used to heal Ead, and Ead explains the full situation and decides their course of action during the final battle. It's a massively uneven balance of narrative attention and respect, especially considering she's our only Eastern pov. This is repeated in the final battle, where she loses the sword which is retrieved by Ead; where she's unable to bear the Nameless One's voice even though Ead somehow knows how to respond to him. Tane's only able to properly succeed with Ead by her side; she's allowed no discovery or victory on her own.

Ead is probably the most irritating to me because 1) blatant authorial favoritism drives me bonkers, and 2) despite dominating this book's pagetime and clearly intended to be its main protagonist, she has no concrete personality to show for it. I loved her chapters the most and her pov the least: she, more than anyone else, is primarily defined by an Aesthetic because her narrative voice is incredibly flat and her characterization is vague and all over the place. The events that occur in her chapters are interesting in theory (although the writing remains deeply dry and unengaging) and she's the only character who's given the chance to Do Things, but that is even more aggravating because 1) she's simply not resonant or characterized enough to stand on her own and is therefore subsumed by her own story, and 2) several other characters get sidelined and disregarded to enhance her importance. She also had an incredibly static arc, imo: while her situation has changed by the end of the story (she is Prioress, in love with Sabran, saved the world, etc), her individual character has changed very little. And that's because her motivations are entirely external rather than internal: she reacts to the plot, but she's never actually affected by it. She has no journey of discovery and risk like Truyde (who was framed very weirdly by the book), arc of acceptance like Loth, or story of ambition, downfall and reclamation like Tane. I'm not saying any of these were written well, but the concepts were there and they could work for Ead as well. But she was, ultimately, stagnant. There's very little introspection, internal conflict or overarching goal for her as an individual; it's always in relation to the current plot, which arranges itself to accommodate her (eg: the moment there's a spark of tension between her love for Sabran and loyalty to the Pri/ory, it's revealed that the current Prioress wants to send her to Ungulus and murdered her mother. There's no tension or actual choice: leaving the Pri/ory to aid Virtudom is her only option, and it's conveniently the only moral one with no room for complexity or ambiguity. The isolationist plotline was also very arbitrary - we do not see Ead actually contemplating this policy in Inys, so her disagreement with Mita falls entirely flat; we don't see her contemplating it after she leaves the Pri/ory either, and so her proposal that she'll be able to "shape the future of the Pri/ory" to "ensure the stability of the new world" feels utterly random. Similarly, Ead becoming the Prioress at the end had no satisfaction or catharsis because 1) the Pri/ory barely played a role in the story, and 2) we only learn that Ead has always wanted to become a Red Damsel 150+ pages into the book. Nor does she consider becoming the Prioress/conducting a coup against Kalyba to save the Pri/ory until the queen of Lasia explicitly tells her that she'll be offered the position after they win. Compare it to Tane's overarching goal of becoming a dragonrider that drives so much of her arc, despite how flatly it's written; Ead is extremely scattered and lacking in comparison). Since she has the most pagetime and is clearly meant to be the protagonist, my irritation with her is more than the others.

I liked Sabran, though! Rulers burdened by their weight of their crowns, legacies built on dust and lies, selfhood devoured and finally reclaimed. However, when her arc reaches its pinnacle and she has to confront the truth of her family and her name ... the book falls flat. It seems like Sabran is barely affected by the reveal beyond "it will take time for me to come to terms with this". She argues for a few lines, and that's it. We're told that she's grappling with it, but we're not actually shown anything and it seems like she just moves on. And at the end, her proposal regarding abdication and succession change came from literally nowhere - she surprises Ead by saying "I have something to tell you" and surprises the reader as well because the last I checked, she was still struggling to accept the lies of her ancestry, and she led her people into war as their queen. Abdicating and removing the monarchial structure altogether is a huge decision that requires a lot of internal conflict and development that we're simply not shown; instead, we're merely informed of it once she's already made up her mind. It also feels extremely uncomfortable that the overhaul of an entire political system is limited to Sabran's own personal experience rather than, yk, an external exploration of how it affects the people who are being ruled. I also think the book would have also benefitted from her pov, at least for some specific scenes/a few specific chapters. Ead's perspective and observation has its own merit, yes, but I think it does Sabran a disservice to view her from a purely outside perspective and it lessens the impact of her arc. God knows she's more relevant to the actual story than Loth and Niclays.

One of the most potentially interesting concepts of the book to me was the intersection of history and mythmaking. However, I personally think it was executed quite shabbily? There is no proper build up or gradual uncovering or startling revelation: we are matter-of-factly informed of the truth right alongside the myth within the first 50 pages of the story. From an in-universe perspective, as mentioned before, Sabran, the descendant of Galian who staunchly believed in this lie all her life, is barely affected by the reveal. Nor is this publicly revealed to the nation as a whole; all we have is Sabran's promise that she'll eventually do it once the story is finished, so there's no proper collective impact, either. And to be really honest, how does this origin myth actually matter? I don't dispute the injustice that was inflicted on Cleolind's legacy on a personal level (although her true story is remembered and revered in the South) but how does this traditional gender dichotomy actually shape and impact the Bereth/net dynasty and Inysh society? Because as far as I can tell, it does not. Inys is a matrilineal queendom with no concept of gendered roles or customs with Cleolind as the sole, inconsistent exception. And frankly, in a world where gender is largely irrelevant, where misogyny doesn't exist, how does Cleolind get cast into such a traditionally gendered role (a "swooping waif" as Ead calls her) in the first place? I think Sh/annon wanted to explore patriarchal reconstructions of myths but also wanted a patriarchy-free society, and imo, those two ideas are pretty contradictory. Or maybe they're not, and it simply wasn't executed very well here. Either way, it ultimately felt scattered and illogical.

Religion and its differences across cultures is another major theme in the story, but I found its portrayal very surface-level. I'm agnostic, so take this with a grain of salt, but again, it feels as though Sh/annon mainly relied on aesthetics rather than exploring how it shaped her characters? Two instances where this was prominent pertained to Ead and Sabran. Sabran, by all accounts, is an extremely devout follower of her Faith and a devoted believer in the myth of Galian and Cleolind. Yet, like I mentioned, when she's actually confronted with the haunting reality of the truth, that her entire religion was a lie ... apart from a few lines here and there, she accepts it and moves on with mind-boggling ease. Another instance was Ead and her feelings for Sabran. Because honestly ... Sabran isn't just a queen of Virtudom, she is Virtudom. She is the descendant and the embodiment of a lie which she subscribes to entirely and which is the direct antithesis of the Pri/ory. Ead had to convert to remain at her court, she has called Ead's people and her beloved mentor "heretics" to her face, she commanded Ead to stop recounting the southern version of the story in favor of the Inysh version instead. The fact that Ead, a passionate follower of the Mother who holds the Inysh myth in contempt, falls so quickly for Sabran is simply bizarre. I might be forgetting, but I don't remember any guilt or anguish or fear or crisis of faith. Her love for Sabran seems entirely disconnected from virtually everything she is and everything she believes in. It could be an interesting dynamic, but the book didn't really explore or emphasize that. Maybe it's a personal issue for me, though.

That being said, I'm definitely reading ADO/FN. Despite Pri/ory's many flaws and lack of engagement, it was readable with some interesting (if staple) ideas and some genuinely beautiful lines/paragraphs; and I'm aware that it was Sh/annon's first book in the series and the genre of high fantasy. I'm also very partial to prequels, and from what I've seen regarding the world and characters of this one, it seems a lot more interesting and fairly promising. At the very least, I enjoyed her worldbuilding posts. Let's see.

Ik you sent me this weeks ago, sorry for answering so late! I'm planning on starting ADO/FN soon (probably tomorrow), so I figured I should probably write down my thoughts before I begin. Again, these are just my personal opinions and nobody has to necessarily agree or disagree!

[bleakyblues]

Any idea about when you'll be able to update His Kingdom to Keep??? 👉👈 I have been waiting patiently for an update for more than a month now and it's like the best post-canon kp fic out there and i really, really want to know how Porsche will go on about being the mafia head and how his and vegas' relationship will work out and what is going to happen to all the problems brewing between kinn and porsche. I went and read the story again and now I am literally dying out of curiosity. Can you give me a hit as to what's gonna happen or even when you can post or at least something???? Please don't abandon the fic 🙏🙏🙏

just so you know, i wasn't gonna continue with the fic at all because the plot i had in mind is angsty and I'm kinda scared of writing angst. but then i got your ask and i couldn't stop thinking about it and bam! I'm writing it now. there's probably 10k of it now? i have a lot more things to cover in the next chapter so it's taking time. plus i have another fic to work on too. but know that it's coming. and fair warning, it's gonna be super angsty (but you're the one who made me continue so you'll just have to deal ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯).

also since the chapter is taking time, I've decided to include this non-angsty snippet from chapter 2 just for you -

“Get off my front lawn.”

Kim and Porsche sprang apart as a bullet chipped off the wall in between them. They turned as one towards the steps leading up to the house where Vegas was standing, gun in hand and an annoyed expression on his face.

“Not your front lawn, you fucker.”, Porsche felt necessary to point out.

“I grew up here and last time I checked, I’m still the only one who calls it my home. So I believe it still counts when I tell you to – Get. Off. My. Fucking. Front. Lawn.”

“And last time I checked, squatters don’t have ownership rights in Thailand.”, Kim grumbled from beside him.

Well, it was nice to know Porsche at least ranked above Vegas on Kim’s list of people he liked.

Vegas raised his gun again, this time aimed right at Kim’s head. Porsche wondered if Kim had ever noticed that he puffed up like a squirrel gathering courage to steal nuts when he was expecting a fight. Fuck his life, he could actually see what had drawn his brother to this piping-hot mess of a person.

“Boys.”

All of them turned around to see Pete who was leaning against the wall with a look of severe disdain on his face.

“I’ll kick all three of you out if you don’t stop your squabbling right now and resolve your problems in a civilized manner. You’re creating a scene.”

He aimed a pointed glare at each of them separately and walked back into the house, brushing past Vegas without a glance on the way in. All three of them were left standing there looking at each other like dumb stooges before Vegas caved, clicking the safety of his gun back on and following after his boyfriend. Porsche contemplated his options for a moment and then moved to follow him only to stop when he heard Kim snort. He turned to look at the younger man, then with a sigh grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and dragged him along.

“Let me go!”

“Nope.”

“Fuck you!”

“No, thank you.”

[im-watchin-movies]

The Hating Game (2021)

I love a good rom-com, I love a bad rom-com, this particular rom-com suffers from not choosing which one it wants to be.

First order of business, rom-coms are often criticized for their creepy moments that would be utterly disturbing in real life, but in the elevated reality of a film, somehow reads as romantic. There's a scene in this film that truly exemplifies this exact argument perfectly. The scene in question? The leading man receals that he has painted the wall of his bedroom the colour of the leading lady's eyes. To me, this is the biggest oh fuck he wants to wear my skin as a coat moment inaginable and I was screaming in horror over it (don't worry, my neighbors are used to this). I briefly wondered if the movie was going to take a sudden turn into horror where she slowly uncovers all the ways he's been stalking her and he actually had a lifelike robot sex doll made with her exact physical proportions, but no, she thinks it's romantic, I find it upsetti spaghetti (and no, it's not because I'm actually ace, this was weird).

The movie itself aside from that scene is generally poorly executed, from established character traits simply disappearing like the writers forgot what our lead's personality was meant to be (other than rage-filled which is actually my favourite personality in a leading woman so koodos for that at least) to the conflict of the film literally disappearing for more than a third of the runtime only to re-appear at the last moment again, as if the writers had forgotten entirely and had to scramble to wrap things up.

The romance aspects of it were too rushed for my taste, they covered all the main beats with seemingly no restraint. Having the couple passionately kiss in an elevator so quickly after introducing them seemed a little rushed for an enemies to lovers type plot. Then we see them just openly having feelings for each other and making out followed by an only one bed beat that literally went nowhere and was immediately resolved by them boinking even though they hadn't resolved literally any previous conflicts. They then inexplicably become a couple and then we have an overheard conversation that makes her think he's lying about his feelings (after he painted his creep wall mind) and more miscommunication happens and then BAM happily ever after. It comes across as a 400k word wattpad fic that's been crammed into a 102 minute box by chopping out any parts where the leads aren't absolutely going at it and calling it done.

It sounds like I really hated this movie (and I sorta did actually) but there's positives as well, for example our lead is a loser who writes Smurf fanfic, something I'm sure exists irl but is still absolutely wild to see, there's a sort of best friend character who is also a weirdo (he was totally done dirty by the plot of we're being honest). There is chemistry between the leads that I really was engaged by and generally I wasn't skeeved out until close to the end.

Overall though, I don't think it does what a rom-com should do, it's very cynical in a way, and there isn't really a grand gesture apart from the creepy wall thing, something not done for her, but for his own weird reasons (🤮). I don't think it serves when you need to sit and ugly cry over your love life with a tub of ice cream, but it's also not offensively bad either. It's really just the last twenty minutes that really broke it for me and I recognize that it could be someone else's cup of tea, so I'd say it's worth giving a shot, though I don't see it being an enduring classic by any means.

[reviewsthatburn]

The plot of THE REALMS OF THE GODS follows Daine and Numair almost dying before being transported to the Divine Realms, where Daine meets her father and sees her mother again. They find out that Chaos is helping Ozorne or someone in his army, and set out across various sections of the Divine Realms to see if Skysong’s dragon relatives will transport them back home so they can help in the war. Along the way, Daine and Numair end up acknowledging their love for each other and start to figure out the next steps in their relationship.

Full Review at Link.

[stardustedknuckles]

The beauyasha fandom in its heyday was a wonderful place to be and I'm forever grateful I got to be part of the phenomenon in a real way but my god I do not miss the routine of unfollowing a new round of wlw every time Caleb said more than twenty words in a row.

Like folks were straight up like "we don't dislike him because he's autistic, it's that-" and they proceed to list off a list of autistic traits. Of which he had many, largely why so many identified with him. And when folks pointed that out they got hostile about how neurodivergence doesn't mean they have to like him and those of us who weren't crypto radfems were like. Nobody said you had to like him. They're seven flavors of dickhead, you're bound to not mesh with one. But you keep describing his traits using words like white male and male privilege and misogyny and lesbophobia and I really don't think the problem you have is the one you think you have. Do you hear yourself.

Every fucking time.

My favorite thing (extremely derogatory) about it was like so many of them were ostensibly Beau stans? Like most of them would fistfight about how well they apparently knew and related to Beau and I'm sitting over here going "Beau would fucking take your kneecaps for implying she can't check him herself when necessary AND for talking shit about Caleb. In that order of priority." especially that one time everyone insisted Travis/Fjord had stepped in to make him stop because Beau/marisha needed that for some reason. The slashes are because people lost the ability to separate character from player and it was bowlgate all over again. (I don't want anons asking about that so just in case, that refers to the fight they had about the bowl and calianna way early in the series. Like in the teens/20s. I wasn't back on Tumblr or in the fandom until episode 110 and I was still hearing about it. It was bad.)

They're all assholes. Beau isn't magically a better, more permissible asshole because she's a girl. She's the asshole I'm attracted to, but that is not at all an observation that imparts objectivity and Caleb was never ever an edgelord kylo ren character like I kept seeing. He was critical to Beau becoming who she was. She loved him and he loved her.

There's a reason I follow like 10 critical role blogs at this point and like 8 of them are artists and not commentators. Absolutely abysmal how much of being a fan of a wlw ship permitted and encouraged the ideology of terves even among people who overall meant well.

I miss a lot about the b/y heyday but not that. Not even a little.

[thespoonisvictory]

The Exile Problem, essentially

The Exile Arc is considered far and away one of the best arcs of the dsmp, which I completely agree with. It is most definitely the strongest arc of s2 and shows off some of the best features the dsmp has to offer: fucking with a sense of time via daily twitch streams, a sense of dread even through comedic relief, shockingly good improv, and Tommy’s shaky breath. 

The core of the issue with it, however, is what comes after. You see, the fundamental plot thread that hold exile together, the one that is the thematic basis and sets up a problem that is resolved in the disc finale, is this: nobody cares about Tommy Innit.

P1: Why Season 2 Works

Well, they do care. But not more than Dream cares about stopping them from doing that. Not more than they care about their own problems. And for exile, that works! The main players who would go after Tommy are taken out of commission: Techno is on bad terms with him, Tubbo has a number of logical pre-established reasons, and Wilbur is literally dead. Everyone else cares for Tommy, but not enough to check up on him when it was assumed he was fine, or when they thought maybe he deserved a bit of time away and didn’t understand the full situation.

The plot works. It makes sense.

Following this, Tommy’s inability to talk about it to Techno is logical, and Techno’s refusal to acknowledge the extent of it staring him in the face is plausible. While it likely wasn’t an intentional flaw on cc!Techno’s end, c!Techno choosing to ignore it so he would not have to adjust his world view is quite spicy. Through a variety of plot threads, no one else takes Tommy quite seriously enough either, and then Doomsday happens, and it’s all functional. Some of the characters might seem a little stubborn or oblivious, but because this is necessary for the plot to function, we nod and move on.

What we don’t want, is for the characters to be cognizant of how awful Dream is, the extent to which he was power hungry and abusive, and then nod their heads and move on. Because that turns characters from morally gray to pretty fucking reprehensible really fast. It is one thing to be a little bit silly, and another to be fully aware of the danger a person poses to not only other people but free will and the server as a whole, and side against the kid he abused. (This is foreshadowing)

The disc finale happens, and while I have my qualms with it, it gets what it needs to across: people do in fact care about Tommy Innit. When the chips are down, the majority of the server backed him when it came to it, and helped Tommy finally score what appeared to be a victory against Dream. They saw firsthand how he treated Tommy and Tubbo, and the existence of the vault, and all agreed that death would be best (later modified to life in prison).

This upholds the general principle of the server: these people are morally grey, but they aren’t awful. Deep down, people want to help each other, want community, and it is this truth that lets the dream smp continue to be a relatively hopeful place that isn’t just grimdark suffering. Even with the atrocities of exile behind them, when Dream’s work was exposed to the light, it showed that the will of the people was enough to contain him. Everything has damages, Wilbur saves Niki at the festival, Ghostboo gives Tubbo a flower, Eret apologizes et etc. The inherent goodness of human nature. Hooray. 

However, problems soon arise

P2: Why After Season 2 Doesn’t Work

After the ending of exile and plots like the Syndicates plan to break out Dream begin to form, something is made clear: the special weight that exile was given in the disc finale, was not going to last, and could never have lasted. Those problems are as follows:

Tommy doesn’t lay his plot with Dream to rest. While I don’t dislike what they did in s3/4 with Dream and Tommy, Tommy keeping it as an active part of his character while he’s no longer isolate causes a few problems: if Tommy wants his plot to function like exile, where Dream is impossible for Tommy to stop, it requires the reinstating of “no one cares about Tommy Innit.” Except. They do, right? They do. We were just told they did. Despite nearly the entire server witnessing how awful Dream was, suddenly its small potatoes for a lot of them.

Dream being a menacing villain hinges on Tommy being isolated, because if people were to actually care about Tommy, all of Dream’s power would be gone.

But cc!Tommy already played that trump card in the s2 finale, pulling on all our heartstrings. But now he wants to go back to how things were and it’s just... that’s not how that works, you can’t have it both ways.

Even beyond that, the darkness of exile makes it hard for the ccs to engage with his plots at all. The ccs can only engage with Tommy to support him, unless they’re a monster and incredibly morally reprehensible, or completely oblivious. However, if ccs are engaging with Tommy to support him, it makes no sense for Dream to be an actual threat, because while Dream is powerful, its shown that there is safety and strength in numbers he cannot stop. 

I’ve seen some blogs talk about how it seems like “everyone just hates c!tommy”, and yeah, that’s true, but if they like him, they look like absolute dick heads for not supporting him. But if they support him, Tommy no longer has a plot thread to stand on. Therefore, they kind of have to hate him.

And if cc!Tommy and cc!Dream hadn’t decided to make exile as dark as it was, this wouldn’t be as much of a problem. Despite Wilbur’s actions, for example, Ranboo and Tommy can still hang out with him and not seem awful, because he was nowhere near on the scale of Dream. The same goes for most villains on the server: yes, they did awful things, but nothing so blatantly unexcusable in our eyes as child abuse. People can still support them and go against them without seeming like they’re taking a giant stance on it.

Take, for example, Niki’s support of Techno, vs Niki’s support of Dream. Techno is a reprehensible character who has hurt people, Niki included, in many ways. However, narratively, we are given a strong enough reason for why Niki supports him, and Techno isn’t so immoral that while we might sideeye her, it makes her characterization more complex and interesting rather than worse.

However, her helping Dream get out of prison is another deal entirely, aside from it being ooc, it makes her look like a nearly irredeemable person. Niki knows what Dream did, and yet she still helps him. It’s not a Techno situation, where it makes her interesting. It makes her worse, and hard to root for.

But, if the entire syndicate thought that way, there would be no one to free Dream, and Tommy would have no conflict. Dream isn’t powerful enough when isolated to be that evil, anymore. So, we’re watching Niki, or Phil, or others POVs, knowing they’re meant to be sympathetic, all while knowing that they are supporting an abuser, and it is really hard to come back from that. Exile is a conflict so much darker and unambiguously worse than any other on the server, and yet in order for Tommy to keep this conflict going past its natural end point, characters we are supposed to like and sympathize with can’t believe that.

Exile was great, but it caused a fundamental disconnect between Tommy and the rest of the server, and there’s no real way to go back and retcon that into working. It indirectly made so many characters looks so much worse for the sake of the existence of conflict, and there’s a sense of dissonance about it that has existed far longer than it should have for a plot this serious.