#Law is used to it in a resigned sort of way

[momosweetpeach]

Living on a ship is bad enough for privacy, but a submarine??? They don't even try anymore...🐧🐬

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

First, I just wanna say HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! 🎂🎊❤️ Second, I would like to request for your birthday event a Law🩺 x fem reader with the prompt, "What if I kissed you right now? Would you stop me?". Add as much smut as you want please 😜🫠🫣 (Also maybe for a birthday present for me too since it will be soon😁)

I'm soooo, so sorry this didn't come out in time of your birthday! 😭 I started it in time, but then didn't get to finish it. I set myself to finish this today, so here it is. I do hope you enjoy this one, I had fun with it! 😏

Source for pic

First 🔞

Word Count: 3851

Tags: fem!reader; first time; vaginal sex; fingering; inexperienced!Law; virgin!Law

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: You showed your captain your intent to kiss him, but instead of kissing you back, he fled. Resigning yourself to a rejection hurt, but what if his reaction had nothing to do with rejection, and all to do with inexperience?

|Masterlist|

Divider by @cafekitsune

It had become sort of a ritual between the two of you. Law read while sitting at his desk - medical journals, scientific papers, or comic books - and you sat on a little couch in the corner of his office, out of his way, but still near him. A book in hand and a focused expression on your face - whether it was romance, adventure, horror or, sometimes, even one of Law’s precious medical books. 

More often than not, the focused expression was only on your face because you were trying so hard not to get lost in your captain’s presence. Even just by sitting still, he commanded the room. He didn’t have to speak to own every silence, nor did he have to be watchful to own every shadow. This room was his, you were merely in it.

And that was extremely fascinating to you.

There had been times when you were bolder with your attention, actively closing the book you were perusing and just staring at him, deadpan. But he would never acknowledge you, even when you were sure he knew exactly what you were up to. 

You didn’t care. You were too lost in the way his lips dipped with focus, or how his long, slim fingers intertwined when he was reviewing a passage. The way he deepened his frown when something was amiss, or how his eyebrows relaxed when something made sense. The way he ran his fingers through his hair or absentmindedly twirled his hat on his index finger. 

You were fascinated. He was fascinating. 

And you were at the tipping point. You needed this man, badly. 

You had tried subtle ways of showing him you were interested: touching his arm, twirling your hair, giggling at everything he said - that had been a fun week! When Law decided to run a full check-up to figure out what the hell was wrong with you, you stopped your subtle efforts. Maybe you needed to be a bit more blunt. So you then tried to actively use lame pick-up lines and telling him outright how interested you were. All of it flew past his head and, instead, was picked up by Penguin and Shachi, who decided to make fun of you for it - that had been another fun week!

If you were anybody else, you would have given up by now, clearly getting the hint that he wasn’t interested in anything romantic. But you were stubborn to a fault, and the fact that your captain hadn’t fully rejected you was the deciding factor for your next move. Because if he didn’t have feelings for you, he wouldn’t put up with your presence in his office, right? He would’ve ‘shambles-ed’ you out of there in the blink of an eye. 

So, this was a do-or-die situation. You were going all in.

The lights were always dimmed in his office, except for two lamps - one by your side, the other by his desk - so the ambiance was already intimate. You had put on some revealing clothes, making full use of your free time to shed the boiler suit since you weren’t ‘on the clock’, and you had downed an entire cup of chamomile tea for the nerves. This was happening. 

Other than a slightly longer glance your way when you asked if you could join him - as you always did - Law didn’t show any signs of being hot and bothered by your skimpy choice of clothes. This was already a bust.

Huffing, you didn’t even sit on the couch. You took small steps towards his desk while slowly counting to ten in your head to keep your cool. Law’s brow rose as he saw you approach, but his eyes swiftly returned to his book. Two more steps, and you were by his side.

“Captain.” You murmured, trying to sound alluring and cursing at the wicked croak that left your lips. 

Law lifted his gaze and turned his chair slightly to the side, so you used the opportunity to lean on his desk. He tilted his head, clearly curious as to what you were doing. You then leaned forward, lips inches away from his, and the strong scent of disinfectant and pine soothed you. It was his scent. “What if I kissed you right now? Would you stop me?” This time, your words came out in a sultry whisper, your breath kissing his lips in a soft promise.

Law locked eyes with you, something dark passing through them, and your breath hitched as he raised his hand to eye level. You prepared yourself for the surge of shock when he pressed his lips against yours, his hand already near your cheek… then he opened his lips and…

“Room. Shambles.” 

And with a soft plop, you were sitting in your bed. No Law, no kiss, no confession, just you, in a time-out.

“What the fuck?”

-*-

You’d had half a mind to stomp into his office and let him know that what he had done was not acceptable, but you had let it slide. That was almost a week ago, and you still hadn’t spoken to Law since. 

When you went by his office, he wasn’t there; when you went by the sick bay, he had just left; it seemed that every time you tried to enter a room he was in, he was suddenly gone. Almost as if he could disappear in the blink of an eye. Which he did. So you knew he was avoiding you. 

At first, you felt slighted. A simmering rage burning beneath the surface since you had, after all, put all of your effort into seducing him, only to make a fool of yourself. You deserved an explanation!

But as time went by and he didn’t even make his presence known to you, your anger slowly turned into hurt and then to sorrow. It was bad enough that whatever you felt for Law wasn’t reciprocated, but it was even worse that he didn’t even want to see you to clear the air.

That was what stung the most.

So, you stopped trying. You stopped looking for him or trying to find him. You’d gotten the message loud and clear: Law wasn’t interested. 

But what was even worse than that was that you actually missed his company. Even if he was silent most of the time.

-*-

You still read, but now you were doing it in your own room, actually reading and understanding the words on the pages in front of you instead of being unfocused and lost in your captain. 

It was all so lonely. 

Tonight, you were reading a boring medical journal. It reminded you of Law, so you even started to mutter some of the words in the book because that’s what he did sometimes when he was trying to memorise or grasp something, and it felt familiar. You were lying on your belly, the book held in front of your face as you leaned on your elbows, wearing the most bored and sad-puppy expression.

Until a familiar blue light enveloped you and, with a light tug on your stomach, you fell face-first - or book-first? - into your captain’s lap. 

“Fuck!” He exclaimed as you scurried up, trying to sit, still dazed at what had just happened.

“Captain?” 

“I thought you were sitting down! I didn’t expect you to fall on me.”

“What?”

His ears and face were red as he helped you sit. Then, you took a look around and gasped. You had never been here before, this was his room. 

“Is that a medical journal?” He had calmed down a bit and pointed at the book in your hands. Now, it was your time to blush.

“Yes.” You mumbled between your teeth. “Why am I here?” You huffed in exasperation. As much as you wanted to reconnect with Law, the feeling of rejection was still very fresh and aching against your chest. 

“I… I brought you here.”

You stared at him, deadpan. Was he being serious or making a joke? With Law, it was hard to tell sometimes. But you didn’t say anything, and he continued with a bit more bravado this time.

“I brought you here to apologise for my behaviour this past week.”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you raised your chin, trying to prove that you were unbothered by the situation. “Go on,” you urged. 

“I was scared.”

“What?”

The great Surgeon of Death? Scared of you? Was he making up excuses? Did he not think you were strong enough to handle rejection?

“I–I like you! And… I’ve never…” Law blushed deeply, a crimson red hue spreading adorably from his nose to his cheeks and up to his ears. You held your breath as your lips parted in a surprised ‘o’.

“Kissed someone?” You coaxed softly.

Law sighed profoundly, his hand running over his face before he closed his eyes and decided to just spill it. “Not that. I’ve kissed people. I just never had intercourse and… well… you… I… damn it! I want to! With you!”

He seemed so awkwardly embarrassed by the whole situation that you did your best to suppress the sweet smile that threatened to escape your lips. He hadn’t rejected you because he didn’t care, he rejected you especially because he cared. 

Tilting your head to the side you forced him to look into your eyes as you reached for his hand, tentatively entwining your fingers with his lithe ones, all previous anger forgotten after his sudden confession. “It’s okay, Captain. We don’t have to do anything.”

Law stared at your intertwined hands for a moment, and when his amber gaze returned to you, it was dark with desire. “But I want to do everything.” Your breath hitched as the grip of his hand increased. He tugged softly, pulling your body towards his, and you didn’t resist.

His lips hovered near yours, but you didn’t press them together like you wanted to, you were giving Law time for him to do this his own way. “What was it you said? What if I kissed you right now, would you stop me?” 

Law’s raspy voice sent tingles down your spine, gathering indecently in your core. You leaned in closer, lips brushing ever so slightly with his while you shook your head. “Not only would I not stop you,” you placed your free hand on Law’s thigh, and he sucked in a breath. “I would also indulge you.”

With an unrestrained groan, Law used his free hand to cup your nape and pull you against his lips. His kiss did not seem inexperienced at all. Law pressed firmly, first, freeing the hand that was entwined with yours and placing it on your waist, bringing your body closer to his. Then he parted his lips and licked your lower one tentatively, asking permission to enter. 

With a wanton moan, you melted into his embrace and into his kiss, lips parting and tongues meeting in a wet, messy dance. 

It wasn’t enough.

Law pulled you even closer, so you straddled him, your knees supported against the mattress as your core frictioned against his length. With a gasp, you pulled back, neck arching as a ripple of pleasure coursed through you.

You felt Law hesitate for a fraction of a second, but then he moved, pressing his lips against your throat and laying open-mouthed kisses down to your collarbone. “Is this okay?” He questioned, a slight - barely there - tremble in his voice. 

“Yes!” You breathed, your hand climbing to grip his hair as you threaded your fingers through its silkiness, something you’d been meaning to do for a while and never could. Law pulled you in for another kiss and you guided his hand below your shirt - you needed to feel him touch you.

His kiss faltered for the briefest of seconds before his hand climbed, and he cupped your breast. You rolled your hips against his, feeling his hard cock rub against your clit, robbing another shameless moan from your occupied lips. 

Law parted the kiss with a heavy pant. “Fuck.” His hand found your nipple and he teased it very softly while his other hand rested on your thigh. 

“Wait.” You murmured, and when he looked at you with panic in his eyes, you regretted your poor choice of words. “Just let me get this out of the way. Don’t stop what you’re doing.” Then you removed your pyjamas shirt, baring your upper body to him.

Law gulped, and his jaw clenched as his eyes devoured you. 

“Like what you see, Captain?” You teased, trying to ease some tension so he could enjoy the experience and not be so focused on what he was doing right or wrong. When he nodded, you guided your hand to your free breast, your eyes never leaving his as he followed your movements. “Like this.” Then you showed him, rolling your nipple with your thumb and index finger, pinching slightly.

Law mimicked your movements with his hand, and you bit back a satisfied groan. You removed your hand from your breast so you could gain some grounding, placing them on the mattress and arching your back, rolling your hips again to feel the sweet friction. 

He hesitated. You watched his calculating eyes consider possibilities before he leaned in and took your free nipple on his tongue. Your breathing became heavy as he sucked and nibbled, clearly enjoying the experience. 

He stopped his ministrations to stare at you, and for the first time, he looked unguarded, relaxed, even though he was visibly anxious, it was more in anticipation, than in fear. “The books explained women’s pleasure, but nothing compares to the real thing.”

You looked at him through lidded eyes, feeling your core throb incessantly. “Books?”

Law grinned, then wrapped one arm around your waist and flipped you, so your back was against the bed. “I’ve been doing research this past week.” Research? On sex? You had to suppress a chortle, your captain never did anything by half. “Let me see if I assimilated the subject thoroughly.”

With shaky hands, Law removed the bottoms of your pyjamas and your panties, all the while cursing between his teeth. Then his big hands pressed on your thighs and he looked into your eyes, waiting for permission. You nodded, and he urged you to open your legs, which you happily did. 

He became transfixed for a moment, watching your pussy leaking with desire until you spoke. “Captain! Are you just going to stare? Let me guide you.” You leaned on your elbows, ready to explain to him how to pleasure you so you could take him. 

He smiled at you and shook his head softly. Then he removed his shirt and you gasped at his tattoos. You’d seen them, he was never shy about displaying them. But actually watching them right in front of your nose had your breath hitching again. When Law removed his spotted jeans, you couldn’t help but stare at the bulge in his briefs. 

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” He mimicked your words, and you giggled. Then, he positioned himself between your legs, his hands climbing your thighs until they hovered over your pussy. 

With shaky hands, Law ran two of his fingers through your slickened folds, a sharp exhale leaving his lips as he observed you with clinical precision. He parted them and gulped. “Your clitoris. It has more than eight thousand nerve endings.” You arched your back, waiting for his touch, but he was still analysing and you were already burning up. “And it’s not just external.” Law splayed his hand on your lower abdomen, almost as if he could see what was underneath without the use of his Devil Fruit. 

Your breathing accelerated, and he continued. “Stimulation to the glans clitoris,” he used one finger to circle your nub tentatively, “activates the nerves, sending signals through the pudendal nerve straight to your brain.” He repeated the motion with his finger, and you moaned, throwing your head back. “Pleasurable signals.”

Clearly motivated by your reaction, Law alternated his gaze from your eyes to your core. “It’s sensitive to different kinds of stimuli, like friction,” Law rubbed your clit for a moment, and you bit your lower lip, hands gripping the sheets, “and pressure,” his fingers pressed harder while he changed the pace and direction, and you nearly lost it, pleasure already cresting, ready to snap. “If I stimulate it correctly, it should trigger deep pelvic contractions. Your heart rate increases, your pupils dilate, and pleasure will course through your body - an orgasm.”

“I–I’m coming, L–Law!” You cried out his name in abandon, arching your back and fisting the sheets. Law’s ‘lesson’ and his touch brought your climax out of nowhere, crashing unannounced with waves and waves of bliss. 

Law seemed fascinated by your reaction, the faint blush still remained on his cheeks. As you recovered from your orgasm, your eyes opening slightly, you saw him grinning. “Fascinating.”

“Are you going to quiz me afterwards?” You teased, and he laughed. 

“Maybe.” Then he leaned over your body and kissed you deeply, slotting himself in the middle of your legs while you let your hand explore his chest and abs. When your fingers reached the hem of his briefs, you pulled apart, looking into his eyes.

“You want to do this?” Law nodded, and you felt another slight shake of his hands. You helped him pull down his briefs, his lengthy cock springing free from its confines. Then you reached, touching him gently so he could understand how it felt to be touched by another person. 

His breathing became ragged, and his eyes darkened further. So he lined his tip with your entrance and exhaled another shaky breath. “The muscular tissue in your vaginal canal is designed to expand for penetration.” Law gulped, swallowing hard and preparing himself for what was about to happen. 

“After an orgasm, and because of our intense foreplay, you should be lubricated enough to accommodate me.” As if to prove a point, Law inserted two digits inside your hole, collecting slick and making you gasp. “It should facilitate–”

“Law, stop talking and start fucking me.” You breathed out, exasperated with all the teasing he was unwillingly causing you. 

Law’s grin was barely there, but he nodded and pressed the tip of his cock against your glistening hole. Never averting your gaze, he pressed forward, letting out a rumbling groan, his brows scrunching up as his mouth parted slightly. “Fuck.”

His hands gripped your hips hard, as if that action alone could ground him to earth. “I–If I recall correctly - fuck - it’s beneficial if I move slowly at first.”

You arched into him, a pleasurable moan leaving your lips, chased by a mirthful chuckle. “Trafalgar Law, you have got to be the only man who gives an anatomy lesson while losing his virginity.”

He groaned in agreement while slowly pulling out of you, then he watched in amazement as by rolling his hips, his length sank further into you. Lost in pleasure, you wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him deeper and clenching all around him.

Law gasped, his hands trembling slightly as he lowered his forehead, letting it touch yours. His breath came out in heavy pants. “Try not to do that again, sweetheart, unless you want to end this prematurely.” 

Your heart swelled as you used your hands to push some strands of hair away from his eyes, feeling the sweat on his damp forehead. 

“Law. Just enjoy it. Don’t overthink it.” You cupped his face so he could stare at you. “You’re supposed to feel it with your body, not analyse every step. Okay?”

He nodded, his gaze still focused on you. His hands slithered from your hips to your waist, pressing harder as he kept nodding. “Just feel it. Okay, I can do that.”

And he did. He rocked back again, then thrust slowly into you. Law bit hard into his lower lip, brows scrunching in deep concentration. The slow pace was driving you insane, but you didn’t want to demand more, you wanted him to explore the feeling at his own pace. 

“Fuck, shit. You’re so warm and tight… fuck!” He panted hard, repeating the rolling motion as his hands gripped you harder. “Your pelvic floor is contracting, reacting to the stimulation and–”

“Yes, Captain! That’s what happens when a woman is aroused.” You grinned when he stared back into your eyes. “And you’re driving me insane.”

“The books didn’t– fuck…” He stopped his reasoning midway, taking a deep breath and finally thrusting a little harder, and a little faster. Your body responded immediately to that with a heavy moan. Law’s head fell forward as he nuzzled it against the crook of your neck, his voice coming out muffled. “I don’t think I can last much longer…”

You felt him slowing down again, clearly trying to make it last so he could pull an orgasm from you.

“Then don’t, Law. Let go.” You breathed into his ear, legs wrapping tightly around him to give him the confidence to finish it. 

But he was still letting his mind take over, clearly reviewing every book he had ever read, trying to find ways to last longer or to prolong your pleasure. So you rolled your hips against his, making sure he thrust deeper and harder, pulling him with your legs against you, trying to make him get lost in the feeling.

“Fuck! Don’t do that unless you want–”

“To make you come? Desperately.” You teased with a slight chuckle. “Let go, Law. Just feel me.” You urged, tangling your fingers through his hair, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. He pulled back enough to stare into your eyes, and then something snapped in him, almost as if he had turned off the part of his brain that was restraining him. 

His pace quickened, his thrusts became sloppier - desperate - while his breath came out in ragged, frantic pants. “Fuck–fuck!” You could feel him get lost in you, he was no longer overthinking, just feeling. The way his hands gripped you, the way he whispered your name between moans and curses, it sent another rush of pleasure through you and you clenched him hard.

And that was what undid him. Law stiffened, his hips jerking forward as he shut his eyes and let out a desperate groan, pleasure rippling through him. Then he collapsed forward, holding himself up by the elbows before he crushed you, letting his face bury against the crook of your neck again, warming your skin with his ragged breathing. 

You held him, pulling him closer to you as he was still buried within your walls. For a moment, the only thing breaking the silence was both your gasps and heavy breaths as you tried to regain your ground. Then Law lifted his head slightly, a dazed expression on his face, which made you smirk. 

“That was… wow.”

“Not bad for a first time, right, Captain?”

Law’s exhausted, satisfied chuckle as he let his head fall on your chest was all the answer you needed.

Tags: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @elysian-asphodel @daydreamer-in-training @iloveyoushanks @thegalaxysedge22 @kyllium @keiva1000 @chibinasuu @my-name-is-heartache @laidenbreecatchall @moldychefboyardeecan @walmartmihawk

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[starchild-unnamed]

Medicine & Marshmallows

Summary: Law’s chronically ill partner hates managing their medications, so he decides to make it a little more enjoyable.

(Inspired by my own hatred of managing my meds)

Words: 694

Soft!Law x chronically ill!reader, established relationship, gn!reader, pure fluff, no use of y/n

cw: non-terminal chronic illness(unnamed), prescribed medication use

✦•····························•✦•···························•✦

It was quiet as you sat down with your least favorite box at one of the communal desks in the infirmary; the only sound to be heard was the steady hum of the Polar Tang. For a moment, you just sat there, staring into nothingness. You hated doing this— the premise, the necessity, the task itself, was all loathsome to you. Resigned, you lifted the lid and glared at the box’s contents as though they had personally insulted you.

After a few moments, your trance was broken by a tap at the door. There in the entryway stood Law, two steaming mugs in hand, and a paper bag in his mouth. “I come bearing gifts,” he mumbled around the parcel between his teeth.

You offered a halfhearted smile as he made his way across the room to put everything down on the side of the desk opposite the accursed box. “I hate doing this,” you sighed.

Sitting down at your side, Law looked at you sympathetically. “I know you do, but it’s a necessary evil. Hopefully my peace offerings help with that.” He gestured at the drinks and small bag, dragging them towards you. “This week is extra special, since we just stopped at that island,” he continued.

Wrapping your hands around the warm ceramic, you peered into the mug and laughed. “Went a little overboard on the marshmallows this time, huh babe?” Based on his generally stoic, no nonsense attitude, one may quickly assume that the Surgeon of Death exclusively drank black coffee. In truth, however, Trafalgar Law had an insatiable sweet tooth; when it was just the two of you, he generally opted for hot chocolate in your matching polar bear mugs.

Law looked up at you from where he was rummaging through the bag he had brought with him. “I know how much you despise doing this, so I added extra to make you feel better. And I picked these up from that bakery we saw yesterday.”

You felt a surge of affection for the man beside you as he pulled out two cinnamon rolls. “You didn’t have to do that, Law. Thank you.”

He smiled softly, in the way that he reserved exclusively for you. “I know how much you hate box day; I figured I could make it at least a bit more enjoyable.”

That’s what you had dubbed this dreaded weekly chore: “box day.” At the beginning of each week, you had to take out that accursed box and sort your countless medications into their daily compartments. The process was tedious and mind numbing, but you knew it was a necessary evil. Much to his credit, however, your partner did what he could to make it less unpleasant.

One by one, labeled bottles of multicolored capsules and tablets, each with a different purpose, were extracted from the box. With Law’s help, you made quick work of organizing the vast array of medications that kept you in working order, periodically taking sips from your warm beverage. Finally putting the box away, you gave Law’s hand a gentle squeeze.

“Thank you for helping. You make it so much easier.”

Law’s eyes were soft when they met yours. “Of course, love. I know it’s a lot, and that it can be overwhelming, but I want to make sure you’re healthy.”

“I know you do,” you replied; “and I love you all the more for it.”

The doctor pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “How about these cinnamon rolls as a reward for a job well done?”

“That sounds delightful.” Keeping up with your litany of medications may be unpleasant, but you would do it a thousand times over if it meant you were well enough to stay by Law’s side.

✦•····························•✦•···························•✦

[rmbunnie]

It's most likely just Starlin trying to get to Jason dying faster because he did not like Robin, but the whole "Jason's spiraling because of his grief for his parents" thing they were trying to spin was honestly really weird, not supported by the rest of the run INCLUDING the parts Starlin wrote, and kinda reads like an unreliable narrator situation because all of the information supporting it is given through Bruce's narration, him speculating on Jason's thoughts and actions.

The plot thread of Jason's grief for his family affecting his behavior shows up like TWO issues after Jason first becomes Robin back when Collins was writing, and gets sorted out after one conversation where Jason gets to confront Bruce about hiding his father's death from him for 6 months. After that Jason is behaving normally until they encounter three predators in a row, and each time Bruce insists that they can't do anything because of The Rules and assorted red tape/diplomatic immunity plotlines. (The sister of a woman who got dismembered actually tricked the violent-misogynist killer who dismembered her sister (and then got his serial killings dismissed through a technicality) into attacking her, and ends up killing him in self-defense, and then Jason's like "seems fair" and Bruce is like "no. it's NOT. we need to follow laws and not take justice into our own hands. which like wtf Bruce! you are a vigilante who just used a custom tank to fight an evil televangelist! who then got ripped to shreds by his followers while you watched!)

Bruce kinda just decides with Alfred that it must be grief upsetting him and not the dozens of brutally killed women and their predatory killers who the law inexplicably protected, (all written by Starlin, so retconning it for DitF like five issues later would be an odd move) but the only text claiming that's why Jason was upset is from Bruce's POV and through Alfred's dialogue. Jason himself doesn't display any signs of grief in the story itself, or even act or speak in a way that alludes to Catherine and Willis beyond looking at a picture of them and smiling fondly while he sorts through their possessions. He kinda just happens upon the box with his mother's info by chance, and is like ok i guess we're doing mom searches now. He was only going for a walk through his old neighborhood, not actively searching out info on his family. When Jason is deciding whether or not to run off without telling Bruce, he considers telling him and then goes "no, all he cares about is being Batman, he wouldn't even understand why I want to see my mom." Which, I mean, "Bruce wouldn't get it" is a REALLY odd angle if the sole motivator for spiraling, then getting benched* and running away to search out his bio-mom, was because he was mourning his dead parents, a thing he notably has in common with Bruce. That statement only really makes sense if he's thinking about a different thing that was greatly upsetting to him that Bruce brushed past, like maybe a combo of hiding the murder of his dad for half a year and allowing several cases involving sexual violence to freely develop body counts in the name of the law.

Lots of people have written about how Jason's stay in the manor might have seemed dependent on being Robin with how he was kinda just scooped up, but (if we're including Detective Comics in our characterization,) Bruce had offered to let him resign from Robin and just live with him (a little late, but still. It's worth noting Batman proper shows Jason afraid and uncomfortable at the thought of Dick taking Robin back, which lends more merit to the housing-dependent-on-Robin-misunderstanding interpretation, but canon is pick and choose anyways.) The lack of trust involved in his choice to search out his mom kinda reads like it was bred by more than that alone, and Bruce's prioritization of the law over the protection of the people it ignores is notably upsetting to him in the prior issues. tbh I really do believe the outcomes of those cases could have informed Jason's stance that Bruce's method of justice is ineffective right alongside his own murder and his experiences in Lost Days.

It would make sense for Bruce to not consider his own actions while he's thinking through things that would upset Jason, because from his point of view the things there that were bothering Jason were the criminals alone, not the way that the methods with which they were approaching their crimes continually led to the perpetrators evading actual justice. During the point in DitF where he's thinking through motivations for Jason's running away because something isn't adding up for HIM, the idea doesn't so much as cross his mind. It would also add another layer to Jason's sulkiness upon Bruce's arrival if he held the belief that Bruce is ignoring the consequences his brand of justice has on victims (and the way it's affecting him to helplessly watch it play out), starts to hope that Bruce actually can understand his thought processes/relate to him when he shows up, only to be told to his face that Bruce is prioritizing his style of justice over Jason again. With the way everything that led Jason to his bio-mom was comically circumstantial and the context of the previous issues, it's kind of the ONLY way Death in the Family makes sense to me. Tldr: I feel like the grief claimed as reasoning for Jason's actions leading up to his death is mainly speculation from Bruce and Alfred and the more textually-supported reason for his erratic behavior and lack of trust in Bruce is the lack of intervention in several sensitive cases that led them to worsen unobstructed and eventually permitted them to escalate into casualties in 2 out of 3 cases.

*Also, side note, but the idea that Jason got benched for the Filipe situation, while perfectly reasonable, is not quite spot on. The Filipe situation escalated into the fight in the junkyard where his dad is crushed by a car and Bruce is all "everything you do has consequences" which is kinda big words for a guy whose lack of action indirectly lead to a girls death earlier in the storyline, but true. Jason actally gets benched because he jumps directly into gunfire while fighting the third set of predators and Bruce starts to worry he's getting a little suicidal with it. He baits a guy into shooting at him on purpose again trying to protect mom prospect number 1 later on in DitF, so Bruce might have had a point with that one.

[cas-kingdom]

“Do you want me to wear a wig?”

A/N: Remember when I said '5 line fanfics'? Yeah.

(Please be kind lol, this is my first fic in a whiiiile).

“Do you want me to wear a wig?”

“No, I don’t want you to wear a wig.”

“What about heels?”

“You don’t wear heels.”

“But Karen does!”

Matt sighed and put a hand to his forehead. “Y/N, you’re not Karen,” he said, his voice sounding exactly how he felt: exhausted. This had been the first evening in longer than he could remember that he wasn’t catapulting himself across Hell’s Kitchen, and yet somehow, his aches and bruises were more prominent now than they had been when he was. He’d taken the day off—not that there was a workplace to take it from—and spent it in his pyjamas, trying not to aggravate his battered body more.

And so, it had not been his idea to stand in his living room at 2 am, feeling like the world had swallowed him and spat him right back out again. Neither had it been his idea to submit to a drama performance orchestrated by his sister. And yet, here he was.

This drama performance was entitled: Practicing Telling Karen That I’m Daredevil. In reality, Matt hadn’t given that much thought past the fact that it needed to happen. It was time. He had told Foggy, and he refused to leave Karen out any longer. But his ideas didn’t quite reach how, or when, or where. He’d figured that in any way, anytime, and anywhere, the result would be the same. There would be disbelief, and there would be accusatory remarks of betrayal and lying, and then quite possibly he would be on the receiving end of a slap. But he was okay with that, because at least it would be done.

You, ever the protector, had not been okay with that. “You have to be prepared,” you'd told him, “nothing ever goes right for us. If you don’t figure this stuff out then she’ll probably find out you’re Daredevil when you’re sitting on the toil—”

Well, he didn’t want that. So, he’d agreed. Partly because you weren't exactly wrong… mostly because he knew his sister, and he knew that every hour spent awake with him was one more you could hold onto. This was more for your benefit than it was Karen's.

“For all intents and purposes, yes,” you said, “yes, I am. I am Karen. Come on, into position.”

There was never any winning with you. Let it not be known that Matthew Murdock, fierce attorney at law, alias Daredevil, crime-fighting vigilante, could beat and punch and kick his way out of any situation except ones you had pulled him into.

Practically hearing the call of his bed, Matt picked up the bag with his mask inside. You had suggested he swing in through the window of Murdock and Nelson dressed in the suit.

Never gonna happen.

He turned his face towards you, stood across from him in your dressing gown, wet hair tied back. With a resigned sigh, he took the mask from the bag, and, the words feeling stupid on his lips, as though he was in some sort of cheesy superhero movie: “I’m Daredevil.”

There was silence. A sniff. You narrowed your eyes. Then, you snorted a laugh.

“Ha, ha. That’s hilarious.”

Matt tilted his head. “Is it?”

“Dude—no, wait, Karen wouldn’t say dude—Matt, you’re an awesome lawyer, seriously, but—you?" Incredulity dripped from your tone. "Scaling buildings and backflipping from roof to roof? That’s like… imagining Foggy in a bikini.”

“I’m trying really hard not to be insulted right now.”

“Did you forget you’re blind?”

Matt frowned, his muscles tensing a little. “I am blind. But I’m also Daredevil.”

You rolled your eyes, and Matt couldn’t help but think he should have enrolled you in acting school when you were younger.

“And did I tell you I’m Jesus Christ incarnated?”

Momentarily forgetting the feeling of his silk sheets and a cold pillow beneath his aching head, Matt drew his brows together and his jaw fell slightly open. “Are you making fun of me?”

“If you’re Daredevil, why don’t you prove it?”

“I’m not doing a backflip in the living room.”

You scrunched your nose up. “You’re so boring.”

“Okay. Then where do you think I got his mask from?”

You took a moment, eyes narrowing in suspicion, tongue running across your teeth as you thought. You walked towards him and took the mask from his hands. Matt listened while you moved it about, turning it upside down, hands passing over the horns as you scrutinised every detail.

You stood on your tiptoes to peer at something. Matt was patient. When you were satisfied, you made a disgruntled nose and threw the mask onto the couch. Arms crossed once again you stared determinedly up at him, saying simply: “Stolen."

Your brother rose a brow and mirrored your position, clear he was no longer dealing with Karen Page. “Alright,” he said, “I’ll bite. Why do you reckon that?”

“Too small to fit on your fat head.”

There were about two seconds between Matt tossing his head back and laughing, and grabbing you to toss onto the couch. Quicker than you had time to register it, he was over you, one knee beside you, his hands shooting down to tickle you.

You positively screamed, your brother’s full and legal name exiting your mouth in one shrill shriek.

“You’re a little shit, you know that?” Matt expertly dodged the kick aimed at his chest, wincing as his body reminded him of the stunts he’d pulled over the last few nights. He flopped in the seat beside you, his mask falling to the floor, and grabbed your hand as it aimed for his nose, holding it far enough away from the both of you that you couldn’t touch him.

“Noho! Stop!”

“No, you don’t know that? Damn, I’ve been slacking in my duties as big brother, haven't I?"

“You would—” You squeezed your eyes shut, one foot planted firmly against Matt's thigh, your free hand desperately trying to shove his away—“YOU WOULDN’T DOHO THIS TO KAHAREN!”

Matt scoffed a laugh, then, with an evil chuckle, leaned over you, hands still at work—“Karen knows how not to get on my last nerve,” he growled lowly—and blew a raspberry right under your ear.

He finally backed off at the noise that produced, partly due to sympathy, mostly because you had new neighbours who probably wouldn’t appreciate a 2 am wake-up call. Settling back in his seat with a self-satisfied smirk across his lips, he let you lurch forward and attack him, playfully shoving and kicking at him, until your foot caught a particularly sensitive spot and he recoiled. Instinctively a hand went to his side and the other closed around your ankle, his head dipped a little at the pain that coursed through him.

You recovered quickly. “Sorry!” you said, your breath still coming in short bursts. “Sorry, Matty, I—are you okay?”

Matt nodded slowly. “I’m okay,” he said, then breathed a laugh through his nose. “Not sure why I ever believed I’d get an evening off being beaten up tonight.”

You giggled and lightly smacked his shoulder, managing to wrench your foot free from his hold before he could take advantage of it being in his grasp. You crossed your legs beneath you and leaned back against the pillows as you tapped your phone to check the time.

“You can go to bed now,” you said quietly.

“Huh? Thought all this practicing stuff was necessary.”

He bumped his shoulder against yours and you smiled slightly, picking at a loose thread in the sofa. “It’ll be fine. Whatever happens is gonna happen no matter how you do it, right?”

“I did kinda say that.”

“You can kinda shut up.”

A comforting sort of silence enveloped the room then, one that you were happy to sit with. The bustle of Hell’s Kitchen was still loud outside, but in this apartment, in this room, it was just the two of you. That was how it was supposed to be. That was what you missed.

A gentle snore broke the quietude, and you turned your head to see your brother utterly knocked out. His entire body had fallen limp against the couch and for the first time in so long, he looked almost peaceful.

You stared at him. Subconsciously, your mind counted every visible injury, every patch of discoloured skin, everywhere that could have been the one that killed him.

You reached down to pick up his mask. It felt cold against your skin, a reminder that it had the terrifying ability to upturn your entire life. This one thing.

Your eyes lingered a bit before you tossed the mask across the floor and grasped the throw on the back of the couch. Gently leaning against your brother, careful not to wake or hurt him, you draped it across the both of you and closed your eyes. His slow breathing soothed you and in no time you were lost in your own dreams.

Daredevil Masterpost

send me the first sentence of a fanfic and i’ll write the next five, except i don’t know when to stop writing so i guarantee there’ll be more than five

[g1rld1ary]

do i make you nervous? - elle greenaway x fem!reader

cw: she/her pronouns, typical cm violence, petnames

wc: 1115

being stuck in a police station for six hours was not on your bingo card for the day. to be fair, it wasn't really on the bingo card for your year either. you were a good girl, you never broke the rules, you certainly didn't break the law. so, you'd never pictured yourself needing to be trapped under fluorescent lights waiting to talk to police officers, except for your bad luck in being caught in an almost violent bank hold-up.

not only that, of the many witnesses you were probably last in line, having to wait through hours of people going in and out of the tiny interview room. most of them left in tears, which really wasn't helping your nerves.

you'd resigned to your daydreams to pass the time; you'd finished the book from your purse hours ago and you could only play snake for so long. that was why you jumped violently when a hand lay on your shoulder, ripping you from your daydream. above you, the prettiest woman you'd ever seen was trying to hold back a laugh.

"i didn't mean to scare you," she said, and you found yourself smiling back at her. "just wanted to check if you wanted some water, pretty girl." sure enough she had offered a plastic cup toward you. you stared at it for a second before remembering your manners.

"oh! thanks, that's really nice of you." the woman shook her head.

"least we could do after keeping you here for so long. you come get me if you need anything else." you managed to nod and produce what you hoped was a smile despite your daze at the gorgeous woman.

you only waited for twenty more minutes after that before a man came out to get you.

"i'm derek morgan, special agent in the FBI. we just want to ask you some questions. i know the interrogation room looks scary, but we promise you're not in trouble. we just have to take what we can get in a precinct this small."

"i don't think anyone anticipated having this many witnesses in at once," you added, finding it much easier to talk to derek than the woman before. you didn't want to think about why that was.

it was straight to business once in the interrogation room. it was cold, like all the life had been sucked out of it. if you weren't already scared of the law you would have gone straight to avoid needing to return.

inside the room was the woman from before. you sucked in a nervous breath as you sat across from her, trying to split your looks evenly between her and morgan.

the woman finally introduced herself as ssa elle greenaway, and shook your hand in a way that had you weak in the knees. after the basic formalities, the two started asking you questions.

"alright, we'll start easy and warm you up to it. why were you at the bank this morning?"

"i'm moving into my first apartment in a few weeks. i lived on campus all of college and then stayed with my parents for a year or two as i was getting my career started. because i have no history of renting i had to sort out some papers and records with the bank and lucky me i chose today." both the agents made noises of sympathy.

"congratulations on moving out," elle said warmly, "too bad it's delayed by some maniac. do you remember seeing him walk in?"

you recounted the day in as much detail as you could remember, staring at your hands as you spoke. you were so anxious. all you could feel were eyes; morgan, elle, and you didn't know how many people could be observing you from behind the mirror. that, plus the trauma of being threatened with a gun hours before caught up to you all at once and you couldn't help the hot tears sitting on your waterline. both agents stopped at that, giving you a breather.

"morgan, think you can give us a minute?" elle said, not taking her eyes off of you. derek raised an eyebrow but agreed nonetheless, leaving the two of you alone.

elle grabbed your hands, holding them in hers over the table between you.

"let's slow down, just breathe, pretty girl." she forced you into silence for a few moments and you let your breathing fall into sync with hers.

"sorry," you said when you were mostly calm, "i'm really nervous."

"you've got nothing to be nervous about, baby, you haven't done anything wrong." god, you wanted to combust. this stunning woman was being so nice, holding your hands and calling you pet names, you couldn't handle it. she must have noticed your eyes trained on where you hands met -- unsurprising, you weren't being subtle -- and her soft expression turned into something of a smirk. "do i make you nervous?"

you nodded, almost imperceptibly, but elle's eyes were only on you. she couldn't contain her amusement, and you couldn't tell if you were offended that she was teasing you.

the rest of the interview was easier after elle knew the effect she had on you, eventually leaving derek as the sole agent when it got down to the facts you really needed to think about. although you knew it was necessary for the sake of the case, you were upset it meant you couldn't admire her more.

"we'll call you if we need anything else." derek walked you to the door, all smiles. you thanked him and assured him you'd be willing to give whatever the FBI needed.

just as you were descending the outdoor steps to the car park, you heard a heavy set of footsteps behind you. turning quickly, you were relieved to see elle following you. you gripped the strap of your purse nervously as you waited for her to speak.

"if you think of anything else, anything else you wanted to tell me, just reach out," she said, handing you a card. just as you opened your mouth to thank her she spoke again, "maybe you can start with where you got your jeans, your ass is irresistible." you could feel your flush hot on your cheeks as you mumbled some sort of goodbye, all but running to your car to scream.

safely at home, you could think more clearly, not hesitating to start composing a text message, including the brand of your jeans with a cheeky smiley face.

[mathildeaquisexta]

Fouché being ✨in love and stupid✨ : a compilation

So, all the moments about him being absolutely over heels for Ernestine (his second wife) to the point of forgetting to monitor the political climate and to plot against its enemies (it becomes gradually worse) :

On July 13, just five days after Louis XVIII's arrival in Paris, the Duc d'Otrante sent Madame de Castellane [his mother-in-law] this letter, a sort of preface to his marriage proposal, and a testament of his loyalty:

“I cannot express to you, Madame, how touched I am by the confidence you have shown in opening your soul to me. "I will answer you with the same candor, the same surrender. "I am in love with Mademoiselle de Castellane, and have loved her for several years. I would have wished to give her disinterested proof of my feelings by associating her destiny with the one of a man who would make her as happy as she deserves to be, and who would be younger than I am. "I'm afraid my sullen(???) tastes and serious habits don't match her inclinations, and I want her to have no illusions about me, to see me as I am. I'm committed to doing everything in my power to ensure her happiness, but there are things that don't depend on me and that all my love couldn't do for her. I do not mean my children; they'll be her friends just as she'll be theirs. They will support each other, they will lend each other mutual assistance. The charm of my life right now would be to be able to enjoy my freedom and live wholly for my family. Unfortunately, we are in a crisis that is not yet over; all my moments are absorbed by business. However, I must find a moment to see you and to tell you, in person, all the affection I feel for you and your daughter. Le duc d'Otrante.”

Approved by Madame and Mademoiselle de Castellane, the fiancé wooed the young lady assiduously, the proper way. He spent every moment with her that he could spare from his occupations, and with the same hand that, on July 24 [1815], signed the famous tables of proscription where, as the malicious tongues say, he had not forgotten any of his former friends, he wrote her daily messages full of tenderness, delicate thoughts and an amorous pursuit, quite unexpected for a man of his age and reputation:

“How did you spend the night? Did you do everything I recommended for your health? Tonight I'll go and ask you about your compliance. "Tomorrow I won't be able to see you, as your mother is hosting a family dinner. I must resign myself; I can't blame anyone other than our respective positions, as well as social and political convenience. "I can't wait to see the end of the embarrassment we cause everyone, especially your mother, who deprives herself of her society every day to spare us a few moments of happiness. There is perhaps more presumption than truth in the use of the word “us”. What is certain is that I am happy when I am with you, and that I suffer a great deal when I am obliged to separate from you. I can't wait for those bloody papers! I'm counting the days and nights!”

“I don't need to tell you how sorry I felt to leave you last night. I regret that I will not be able to see you today. You will compensate me by giving me your news, and you will arrange things so that tomorrow at nine o'clock in the evening, I can give you mine… I am very impatient to see my wishes fulfilled, and I wish you to express the same sentiments. Love me the way I love you. PS : My respectful regards to your esteemed mother.”

On the eve of the wedding, Ernestine is still compelled to invent pretexts to secretly meet her pressing adorer, and that does not seem to displease him:

“I was thinking of scolding you,” he says, “when your commissioner handed me, on your behalf, a letter lacking your signature. I'm making this remark because you have stolen two of your words of your hand from me. I give you full and complete absolution for the little unofficial lies to which you are obliged, since you admit them to me, and they are in my favor. Farewell, see you tonight! I… I was going to end my letter with embarrassments, I saw myself writing to the Duchess of Otranto. My respects to Madame de Castellane. Please forgive me for treating her daughter as my wife. Your friend for life, Le Duc d'Otrante.”

Fouché, although in the last days of July 1815 he appeared very calm and even cheerful in public, showed a sad and worried face to his intimate friends. He could feel the political passions rumbling around him, and if he intended to “preserve his reputation” by winning the game, it was going to be a tough one. A long letter of [July] 31st [1815] to Madame de Custine reveals the deep and surprising preoccupations of a man on the eve of celebrating his nuptials. And how busy he is!

“I'm in such a hurry! However, I would like to talk to you about my marriage and everything that brought it on. I'll tell you in person.”

It's a pity that these confidences couldn't be written down.

But immediately after the ceremony, the tone changes. This short letter of August 2 to Madame de Custine overflows with joy and pride:

“You think I'm anticipating happiness, and I think I've waited too long for it. Tomorrow, I'll tell you about my romance and my reality.”

The duc d'Otrante is so delighted that he forgets his enemies:

“His marriage,” says the secret file, ”occupies him very seriously and almost as much as a young man. His friends are at war with him over it, and he replies: “It's my happiness."

Source : Le grand amour de Fouché : Ernestine de Castellane, A. E. Moulin

[platonictravisjackies]

Well the season is over and I’m left with one big question: how well did Shauna know Natalie pre crash?

I gather not well at all because anyone who knew what was going on at home for my good sis Nat couldn’t SERIOUSLY believe that she would resign herself to life under an abusive regime.

Like yes they are all teenagers and are all very much going through something pre crash, but we saw (potentially tweenage) Nat go head to head with her abuser and come out the other side. She got tougher, smarter, and stronger but she was still kind and full of love to give. OF COURSE she wasn’t going to just sit back while Shaudam Hussein viciously bullied everyone in sight. That girl was stomping around, throwing things, lashing out - using all sorts of violence to get her way. The past few months under Shauria Law was probably so triggering for Nat AND VAN.

OF COURSE Nat was going to go forth and fight like hell, try over and over, and get tougher, get smarter. Of course she was able to out wit and out maneuver Shauna and lead without using brute force. Like duh? She wants it more. She wants everyone to go home. And Shauna represents a vicious cycle of abuse that could keep them all in danger in perpetuity. My good sis Nat has seen these rooms, she’s walked these halls. She wants to get the fuck OUT.

Like does Shauna not know Natalie at all?????? I know she was suspicious but damn. Maybe if she wasn’t such an extemporaneous thinker she would’ve used the clues of Nat’s past to realize she was picking on the wrooooooong bitch. Unless she truly knows nothing about her (which would also make sense, since Natalie isn’t Jackie).

[cevansbrat0007]

Cross-Country Christmas (Teaser)

Summary: After Ari is left stranded by a surprise winter storm, you find yourself wishing for a little Christmas miracle...

Warnings: Mature Themes, Angst, Ari Being A Menace, Holiday Themes, Smut, Arguments, Spanking (mentioned), Pet Names, Cursing, More Warnings to Come Minors DNI

A/N: This is only a TEASER, the longer fic is coming soon. Part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

8:30am on Christmas Day - Bell’s Creek, Texas

“I promise I’ll be fine, Beast.” Drying your tears, you crumble up your tissues in your fist before discarding them in favor of taking a sip of your coffee. “Like you just said, there’ll be other holidays. And certainly other Christmases.”

Ari was still stuck in Omaha. And while you had suspected this call was coming, you hadn’t been prepared for how much the disappointment would affect you.

By all accounts, your Bounty Hunter appeared to be in good spirits, albeit a little tired. He was still on standby, even though all flights were still grounded indefinitely. But you’d at least been happy to hear that he’d somehow managed to catch a few hours of sleep. 

Not only that, but he’d also made a new friend in some guy named Clint. They apparently had a number of things in common, with the most important being that they’d both served overseas. Ari had also alluded to his new buddy being in law enforcement as well. 

But if you were being honest, you’d been so focused on trying to sound positive that you hadn’t quite been able to focus on his words as much as you would’ve liked. Thankfully, Ari seemed keen on having a conversation – even if it felt a bit one-sided.

“The airline keeps offering to put us up for the night. Anyone who accepts will be guaranteed a spot on one of the first flights out.” Ari coughs softly before continuing. “However, if you’re willing to wait a little bit there’s talk about them sweetening the deal with some sort of voucher or somethin’, plus miles and all that shit.” 

“Oh?” Is all you can manage, forcing yourself to take another pull of your now lukewarm coffee.

“Yeah. So, Clint and I were thinking…” He trails off, briefly leaning away from the receiver to comment on something you couldn’t see.

“You two were thinking…what?” Your next sip of coffee tastes surprisingly bitter on your tongue. Maybe you would dump out the pot and brew a fresh one. 

“That we should take ‘em up on their offer and just ride this storm out. We take the points, get the voucher, and then maybe in a month or two, we go on a vacation together somewhere nice.” 

“You and Clint?!” You screech, accidentally knocking over your mug in the process. “Shit!” You scramble out of your chair to grab a dish towel and hurriedly mop up the mess. 

“Hate to break it to ya, baby, but Clint’s not really my type.” The Bounty Hunter chuckles into the phone. “I was talking about me and you, Bird. We can pick a destination and have ourselves a holiday do-over.”

A beat goes by before you respond the only way that makes any real, logical sense. Even though it seems to take every last bit of your resolve.  

“Okay.” Your voice comes out small and resigned. 

“Aw now, don’t fret. I’ll be home soon.” Ari does his best to reassure you. “And once I’m back, we will spend every waking minute making up for lost time. You have my word.”

Well, when he put it like that…

“I guess we can hold off for a little while longer.” You sniff, wishing you could just go back to bed and sleep until tomorrow. “But you had better keep your promise, Beast. Otherwise I’m gonna have to track down Santa and ask him for a new man.” 

Your half-hearted attempt at humor elicits a short bark of laughter from Ari which, in turn, makes you smile as well. It would be hard, but you could make it 

“Try it, sweet Bird, and I’m telling you right now that I’ll have you in my truck and over my knee before you make it outta the next county.” Comes his gruff response, clearly not enjoying the image of you hanging off another fella’s arm. 

You know without asking that he’s probably not kidding – so you decide to leave it alone. If he wanted to thump his chest a little, then you’d let him. 

“It was a joke.” You tell him when the line falls silent. Standing, you pad towards the fridge on bare feet, stopping once you reach the doors. Yanking one open, you survey the contents, silently wondering if you should even be bothered enough to cook today. Granted, you’d already brined the turkey so –

“Joking about my replacement isn’t funny, Bird.” Ari growls, the sound rumbling from somewhere deep in his chest. “Especially when I can’t be there in person to plead my case.”

You blow out a harsh breath at the same time as your eyes roll heavenwards. Why couldn't he understand that you needed to crack wise here and there in order to keep from crying?

END TEASER

[poorrichardjr]

Administration of Incompetence

Ok, I expect this essay will get little to no notes. Despite there being a lot of text posts here on Tumblr, I've noticed that anything that goes beyond three or four paragraphs quickly loses interest. It is actually one of the reasons I have considered more than a few times to just leave this site altogether. So, if you haven't guessed, this is going to be rather long, but it is an important one to read.

By now I am pretty sure that everyone has heard about the most recent debacle of our inept Trump administration. There was a top secret meeting about bombing a foreign nation where a civilian was part of the group and it was done on a public app instead of a government secured channel. There are so many things wrong with this it should end the careers of a number of people and haunt the remainder of Trump's time in office. Of course, we all know that isn't going to happen. None of the people who were on this meeting are going to have the humility to take responsibility for what was done and do the honorable thing and resign. There is no honor amongst these thieves.

So, let's start with the first and probably least problematic point. Why was this done on a public app? There are many reasons why we use secured lines, and secured locations when discussing any form of militaristic moves, not the least of which is the fact that we don't want unauthorized people finding out. Despite Signal being somewhat secure, it is nowhere in the same ballpark as what the government can provide. So why use it? Is it simply because these people are lazy and looking for the easiest solution? I doubt it. I am more of the opinion that these people are trying to skirt the record keeping laws that surround official acts.

After all, it is hard for the public to ever learn or subpoena the government for information if that information hasn't been kept. Seems like a fairly criminal way of doing business, but what can you expect from someone who was hired by a convicted felon? The next question that comes up here though is one that should worry people though is, what else are these people discussing outside of standard procedure so they can hide their actions?

Next lets look at the one thing that conservatives are screaming the most about. These people not only used an unauthorized app, they had an unauthorized civilian on the line. Of course, conservatives want to punish the reporter and ignore everything else that is wrong in this situation. This is an extremely important problem though. How many other important meetings using the signal app have had unauthorized people? I mean this guy was there in the group for quite awhile. This wouldn't have happened had they just followed procedure because the reporter would never have had the chance to do this.

Though I would like to move past this I need to explore it just a little more. Unauthorized personnel able to access these sorts of things and this particular meeting is almost a certainty. Let's say next time we are discussing war plans with China for Elon Musk in the Chinese embassy. Laugh all you want, but one of the members of this meeting was in the Kremlin, using their wifi, and there is no way in the world I will ever believe that Russian officials were so kind as to not spy in on that meeting. Our government has been hacked numerous times by the Chinese and the Russians. If we are stupid enough to hold this sort of meeting on unsecured channels in dangerous places we have to expect that sooner or later we are going to have these things thwarted.

Say we hold a meeting with someone close to a Chinese embassy. I can absolutely guarantee you the Chinese are going to take advantage of that misstep. Let's say we are having talks about doing some underhanded thing to Iran or North Korea that would put our military members in danger if the info got out. China may not really care to intervene, but they may really like the fact that our military gets embarrassed on the world stage, so they tell the targets of our military action everything they have learned. Or maybe, they decide to use the information they have to threaten and sway future decisions by someone within the administration. Do these people want to face the blowback of a military disaster or are they more willing to be at the behest of a political enemy? I'm betting they are too damn cowardly to admit they ever did anything wrong.

Okay, let's get to the last few points. First, all of these people should have known that using this app was against protocol, especially the members of the military. The fact that none of them demanded that they do the right thing means that they are all unworthy of their positions. If you are going to cut corners on something this serious, eventually those sorts of actions are going to come back and bite you in the ass. More than likely, our members of the military are going to be the ones paying the full price of their bad decisions.

Finally, let's move to the man in charge. He says he wasn't involved. He says he didn't even know about it until the news broke. Tell, me WTF is this man doing in office? You're telling me the president of the United States didn't know this was happening? He didn't know we were going to bomb a foreign country? Obviously, Trump is lying like always. But, what if he isn't? Is he so lost in the throes of dementia that he was informed but forgot? Is he so laughable as a leader that his people are just going behind his back and just telling him about what is going to happen? Or is he just so lazy and unconcerned that he just doesn't care what happens just so long as he is president and able to seek vengeance on the people he thinks have wronged him?

All of these issues are of serious concern. I am just mad that a week from now this whole thing will be forgotten because the Trump administration will do something else just as dumb, dangerous, or disastrous for the people of the country. Just how much more are we going to have to suffer because we have elected the most incompetent boob in history?

[ecargmura]

My Happy Marriage Second Season Episode 13 Review + Final Thoughts - WHERE IS THE MARRIAGE?

Wait, what do you mean you’re gonna end the season without the wedding? This anime is called My Happy Marriage. WHERE IS THE MARRIAGE? The way they ended the season without showing the wedding is DIABOLICAL.

Despite that, I do like the vibes this episode had. It felt like a happy ending to an long, tumultuous journey of stopping a madman. It’s like the ending sequence after defeating the final boss with characters going their separate ways or finding a new path in life and walking on it. For Kiyoka, he decides to resign from the military to live happily and peacefully with Miyo; don’t worry as Godou will be his successor! For Miyo, she was offered a position in the palace and working under Takaihito to help ability users. I think her decision to step back from fighting was a good choice befitting her. She only awakened her power and it’d be cruel to try and have her be separated from her fiancé when she was working tooth and nail to be able to be by his side. She even said that she cannot forget the fear she felt when a sword and a gun were pointed at her, showing off her disdain for violence. Miyo already has enough violence in her life; she needs peace.

The preparation for the wedding was cute as an interaction between Hazuki and Fuyu is finally shown and they bicker a lot. Fuyu is about breaking away from traditional customs while Hazuki likes traditional customs. It’s quite interesting how they’re of different generations yet their mindsets are very different. Fortunately, Miyo is happy that Hazuki’s old wedding dress is being passed down to her. It means a lot as she never got to inherit Sumi’s wedding dress as it was destroyed when her father married Kanako and destroyed all of Sumi’s memorabilia. I also find it funny how Fuyu is being more tsundere each time she appears.

I do like that Miyo and Kiyoka went on a date reminiscent of their very first outing together all the way back in Season 1, Episode 3. The only difference is that Miyo is a lot happier and the two are deeper in love together now. The two went on another date after visiting Takaihito and that’s when Kiyoka gives her a kanzashi, or a hair pin. In the past, Japanese men used to give women they’d marry hair pins as a sort of proposal item. I don’t think the custom of having rings was common back then. Miyo gives a present to Kiyoka too: a new hair tie. He now has a blue hair tie that matches his eyes; she certainly has a knack for finding colors suitable for her husband-to-be.

Also, I did mention that Usui got off too easy in the previous episode. The same applies to Arata here. I can’t believe he got away with shooting Kiyoka. That’s the second time he’s done it and he still gets no comeuppance for it.

Overall, this was a good conclusion to the season and a new anime project has been announced for My Happy Marriage. Whether it be a season 3 or a movie, I’m still excited! I need to see them get married because it’s what they deserve and what the viewers and fans deserve. Let me know your thoughts on the finale!

Final Thoughts

Compared to Season 1, Season 2 has less frustrating moments as Miyo and Kiyoka’s bond becomes deeper. It’s also nice to see Miyo developing more outside of her fiancé as she dealt with her mother-in-law and protecting her new girl friend Kaoruko. Not only that, she finally gets to have her powers awakened.

Social media likes to degrade Miyo, but I like her a lot! It’s really nice to see her be stronger in this season compared to the previous one. Miyo will stand up for herself this time around and she will tear down sexism to defend a girl she only befriended a day ago. Not only that, taking her husband-to-be from her will make her go on a stealth mission to rescue him. She may not be a fighter, but she can be quite plucky and that’s a good thing.

Because this season focuses a lot on Miyo, Kiyoka doesn’t get too much focus, but it makes sense given that he’s already got development from the previous season. This entire season has Kiyoka be the greenest flag and best fiance to Miyo and that’s a good thing to see. I do like that he’s mainly used as a trigger to get Miyo to be more proactive. It gives Kiyoka vulnerability and Miyo the strength to chase after her husband. I do love that he is the reason her powers awaken as her desire to rescue him was the cause of it all.

I do like the side characters presented here. They feel more involved compared to the previous season. Tadakiyo and Fuyu are interesting with how they interact with their son and future daughter-in-law and how it differs from each parent. There’s also Kaoruko who was a great addition to the cast but was taken away so soon. There’s also Mukadeyama who was a bit mean to Miyo, but managed to apology for his actions after the Usui incident. I also like Kazushi and Takaihito being more involved. I do wish that Unan was a bit more involved instead of being just the doctor guy. Heck, Godo gets his time to shine too! I guess Arata was handled well this season due to the twists and turns of his actions; I still think he’s still ugly and got off too lightly for shooting Kiyoka again. I think Kiyo was an adorable addition to the cast, but he was gone too quick. 

I think Usui was a good villain, even if I wasn’t satisfied with his end. He was terrifying and creepy with his disillusionment towards the world and people not named Sumi. He created a cult and made his own special Grotesqueries just so he can overtake the government and the country to be able to create his ideal world that Sumi wanted. Like I mentioned before, he reminds me a lot of Obito Uchiha from Naruto. What I liked the most about Usui as a villain is that he comes with a lot of Usuba lore as the previous season constantly had the clan’s story be elusive. It’s not until this season where it’s told why the Usuba had to be secluded and how terrifying their abilities can be if used for the wrong purposes.

I think the best part of this anime was the voice cast because they all really amped up their casting prowess for the newly introduced characters and the leads showed off their talents in this season. Heck, Reina Ueda proved her capabilities back in Episode 9 where she was sobbing when her love was taken away. Yuya Uchida as Naoshi Usui is the runner-up for this season as he was consistent with Usui’s psychopathic tendencies. Give that man more roles, seriously.

The music and animation quality also improved a lot as there are more action sequences. I feel like Kinema Studio amped up their background setting game because I was super invested in looking at the pretty scenery. The first episode alone had so much gorgeous scenery that I had to pause to marvel at it. I also like that the studio stays consistent in their animation as I don’t see any signs of a drop in quality.

I really liked the second season! I hope that the next anime project will be as good! Let me know your thoughts on this anime as a whole!

[ashenquill]

IT'S SCAR TIME BABAEYYYY HERE COME THE (head)CANONS

He's my favorite which means he suffers the most so this post is a little bit of a downer, not gonna lie. But there's silly stuff in there too I promise!!11!

Scar's full name is Scar Conn Goodtimes. You may be asking yourself: what kind of name is that? How is his middle name con? What kind of parent would do that to their child? WELL, the answer is BECAUSE I SAID SO. Idk I just thought it would be goofy if convex had the middle names "con" and "vex". Soooo yeah lol

As far as origins and backstory are concerned, Scar is half vex and half elf. His mother was a vex hybrid, and had two kids, Cub and Scar (I'll post about Cub tomorrow probably). They're technically half-brothers, but they don't really care enough to talk about the logistics of it. As far as they (and everyone else, atp) are concerned, they're just brothers. Plain and simple.

Scar and Cub grew up without their parents, and were primarily raised by their maternal grandmother, the only human in their family. She taught them anything she knew about their mother, their fathers, and their magic. Thus, Scar and Cub practiced with their vex magic until they were finally able to properly wield it. (Vex magic has many capabilities, especially among family members, but the primary way it manifests is by having a particular trait that it can amplify. Scar, for example, can amplify someone or something's strength.) Scar had a tougher time with it, and it often backfired on him. That, combined with him being incredibly accident-prone, is how he ended up suiting his name so well.

In his late teens, Scar sustained an injury that caused major nerve damage and hindered his ability to walk, but with his magic he was still able to walk with the help of mobility aids (such as canes and crutches, and after a few years, a wheelchair). He refused to believe that it was irreversible, and when Cub made him a set of magic-powered walking braces, he thought his problems were solved. But that is not how chronic pain/illness works, even in a world with magic. So, he still uses a variation of aids, but the braces have to be used sparingly, as they draw from his magic and tire him out more quickly. That's why he mostly uses them when he's HOTGUY YEAH THAT'S RIGHT THIS IS A SUPERHERO AU.

Hotguy was hired by King Ren to head the Royal Guard and protect the city (and the king) from "nefarious evildoers". Of course, he mostly uses it as an excuse to play superhero, to which Cub is unwittingly dragged into. He's Scar's "guy in the chair", and even though he mostly just complains about Scar taking unnecessary risks, they both know he loves it.

More fun facts:

Smells earthy, like grass & pine trees

Hybrid: elf & vex (mixed) ((I’m not projecting you are))

Street smart - Special knowledge of city layout, people-pleasing, manipulation tactics

Likes: coffee (only drinks black coffee on bad days, usually gets something sweet and fun, he's totally a pumpkin spice latte girly), bird-watching, movies, theme parks, cooking/baking

Dislikes: golf (he goes with Cub anyway), reading

Passions: justice/fairness, nature (landscaping, birds), Scarland 

Habits/other details: skin-picks, eats water (with a spoon)

Active in his environment - takes advantage of being overlooked, sort of dejected/resigned to ableism against himself (but never others), not usually aggressive but might try to control situations in other ways, good at finding out information but doesn’t always think to do so

Special, plot-relevant skills: archery, charisma 500, magic = strength

Terrible sleep schedule, somehow a morning person

I love him dearly so I sometimes make bad things happen to him this is just the basic law of author projection <3

[theheartofone]

Steel in Her Veins, Chapter: Forty

Read On: AO3 | Table of Contents | Next Chapter

Characters: Fem!Reader x Roronoa Zoro

notes: sorry guys! had to repost this chap because tumblr was acting weirdly ;0

Chapter Forty: Sacrificial Lambs

"But how would he know who I am?" Law's voice is tense as he paces in front of me. His mind seems to be racing, each step heavy with a mixture of frustration and confusion.

"I don’t know, Law. I just don’t know," I reply, my tone more resigned than I’d like. My hands move swiftly, stuffing my work equipment back into a storage box. The others in the cave are equally busy, some finishing their packing while others prepare for the journey ahead. Zoro remains sitting on the floor beside me, our chain lying slack between us. His eyes are closed, his body still, as if he's taking a moment to rest amidst the chaos. “My old man wasn’t exactly upfront with me.”

Law stops pacing and leans against the wall, his sharp gaze fixed on me. "It doesn’t make sense," he mutters, almost to himself, "that he’s trying to reach out to me, in any case."

In the corner of my vision, I see a tan hand reach toward my back. With a tired sigh, I spin around and firmly slap away Luffy’s dumb attempt at trying to steal the curious longsword that now takes solace over my back, staring down at him like some sort of elder sister I’ve decided to fill the role for. He looks up at me like a deer caught in headlights, a pout sneaking his way through his mouth.

“Shouldn’t you be packing your bags?” I raise a brow. He grins at me and stretches his arms as if trying to make a point.

“Don’t have anything to pack!”

“Then help Franky out with something.”

Luffy makes a point to pause to think, scrunch his eyebrows hard and train his eyes on the ceiling. Then he looks back at me with a decided beam. “Nope!”

I’m going to rip my hair out. Now that he really thinks we’re siblings, Luffy’s decided to attach himself to my hip. To the other side of my hip, since Zoro’s already taken that lovely space up.

I let out a frustrated moan, my eyes piercing the box in front of me. I catch Law’s smirk, who’s clearly entertained and relishing in my irritation.

“If you still had your powers, there’d be smoke rising from your head right now,” he mentions.

“Am I supposed to thank you?”

Law shrugs. “Wouldn’t hurt.” With a swift push with his foot, he moves off the wall and begins to turn on his heel towards his half-mended Polar Tang, his own crew chaotically stuffing strewn bits and pieces from their camp back into their ship. “Make sure Franky attaches my ship to yours. From the looks of it, we’re still going to be your guests.”

“Tell him yourself,” I mutter to myself sourly as Law leaves. I crouch down to resume taping up my boxes of belongings with a resolute sigh, facing Zoro on the same level while doing so.

My fingers slowly stop their fumbling as I quietly take in this man’s face in. He remains as quiet as ever, his eyes closed, his free arm wedged beneath his armpit. I can’t ever tell whether he’s deep in sleep or he’s just resting his eyes, but I guess it doesn’t ever really matter; he’ll startle awake if there’s even the smell of danger lurking nearby. I can’t help but smile at his calm face, his mouth slightly parted, and think how adorable he looks when he's so calm.

Suddenly, I hear Luffy release a dramatic sigh from his lips - then, I feel a huge weight slam into my side as he presses his body against mine. I grunt out a little breath, shifting my weight to my other foot to examine his sad face, and I can't help but admit that it made me soften up a little.

“What's wrong, Luff?” I mutter softly, just in case Zoro is actually asleep. Luffy only pouts harder and wedges his head deeper into the crook of my shoulder.

“Do we have to go now?” Luffy whines, looking at me with pining puppy-dog eyes. “This place is so cool, and the dragons are even cooler, and I haven’t even tried their lava pool out yet.”

“Aragnus’ll be following us from above,” I try to console, looking at him with a little bit of a humoured smile. “He’s going to be—”

“NO WAY!” Luffy exclaims. “He’s gonna come with us?! Can he fly our ship on his back? Can I ride him? Can—”

“Luffy,” Zoro grumbles with his eyes still closed. “Shut up.”

But Luffy isn’t listening. He’s already running to Aragnus, who’s sat in a humongous pile of scales in the corner of the cave, trying his best to stay out of the way. In the corner of his vision, he watches Luffy sling himself towards him, and with a pissed off grunt, slides one black wing over his face to shield himself.

I turn around with a snort and mutter, “He’s gonna get incinerated one of these days.”

“He already has been,” Zoro responds.

With surprise, I look down to see Zoro fully awake, watching me with curiosity.

I smirk at him and prod my boot against his. “Morning, sunshine. Sleep well?”

He grunts in response. “Better than the time we had last night.”

“Glad to hear it,” I reply, my tone laced with sarcasm as I finish sealing up my last box. I give it a final shove, sliding it across the cave floor to the growing pile of supplies.

Zoro shifts slightly, his chains clinking faintly as he adjusts his position. "You’re too tense,” he mutters, cracking one eye open to look at me. “All this packing is making you anxious.”

“I’d like to see you do it,” I retort, brushing a stray strand of hair out of my face. I shake my wrist that's connected to his, making the chains clack together. “Besides, someone has to make sure we’re ready to go. It's not like you can help much.”

He chuckles softly, the sound almost lost in the noise of everyone bustling about the cave. “Fair point. But, y’know, it’s okay to let someone else handle things. Even if that someone is Luffy.”

I roll my eyes. “Yeah, because letting Luffy handle things always ends up well.” I glance over to where Luffy is now trying to climb onto Aragnus’s back, the dragon still keeping its wing firmly over its face in an attempt to ignore him. I laugh out loud, admiring the view. “See what I mean?”

Zoro shrugs, a subtle smirk tugging at his lips. “At least everyone else seems to be on task.”

I turn around, taking in the chaotic scene in the cavern. Franky and Usopp are in a heated debate over how to move a massive crate of engine parts, their voices rising above the clamour. Nearby, Nami stands over a map, furiously scribbling notes and barking orders at Brook and Chopper, who scramble to load a cart with supplies. Robin, calm and composed in the middle of the mayhem, uses her extra arms to neatly fold sails and pack crates, working with an effortless grace that contrasts sharply with the frenzy around her.

“Do you have any idea where we’re going?” Zoro’s voice echoes from behind me. I purse my lips and shake my head, not taking my eyes off the camp in front of me.

“I’m hoping this thing,” I say while patting the hilt of my sword behind me, “is gonna magically whip out some information.”

Zoro remains silent, but I can feel his eyes pinned on me from behind.

I glance over at him confusedly and catch his eye. "You’re not saying anything.”

“Hold on,” he whispers intently, his lips pursed. He looks serious – too serious, and whatever playfulness I had within me is dissipating the more I watch him tense up. He rises to his feet, pauses in his tracks and listens. And listens. And...

And he turns to me, his look intense. “Something isn’t right.”

“What?—"

A sudden rumble shakes the cave, causing dust and small rocks to tumble from the ceiling. Everyone freezes, their eyes darting around in alarm.

“What was that?” Chopper squeaks, his eyes wide with fear.

I watch Law in the distance frowning, his hand instinctively reaching for his sword as he looks at the direction of the sound.

As if in response, the ground beneath us begins to tremble, the vibrations growing stronger with each passing second. I stagger slightly, reaching out to steady myself against the wall.

“Earthquake?” Usopp calls out, his voice wavering.

“Not quite,” Robin murmurs, her eyes narrowing as she studies the trembling ground.

Suddenly, a loud crack echoes through the cave, followed by a rasping gasp. I whip around to watch a black glob of liquid slither through every single crack within the cave.

The thick, inky substance seeps through the cracks in the walls and floor, moving with an unsettling, almost sentient fluidity. The air grows colder as the black liquid spreads, and as it slips across the floor, the affected rocky ground is sapped of any colour and life it could have had.

“What is that?” Nami’s voice is a mixture of fear and confusion as she takes a cautious step back.

I stare at the colour of this thing, the texture of its skin as it slightly bounces like deflated jelly, and my eyes narrow as I sense this odd familiarity that pierces my chest. That's when realisation hits me like a sucker punch to the face.

I step forwards, my mouth left hanging open. “That’s—”

"Stay back," Law commands, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. He steps forward, his sword drawn, his gaze locked onto the growing pool of ink. There's a look of steely determination on his face, his knuckles turning white as he grips harder and harder on Kikoku.

Everyone else is motionless in place, uncertainty and fear etched across their faces. Luffy now stands still, his eyes narrowed in a rare show of sobriety as he stares at the dark substance with a mix of curiosity and unease. Zoro moves beside me, his stance ready, his swords already unsheathed and gleaming in the dim light of the cave.

The rumbling grows louder, and Aragnus rises slowly, his enormous frame towering over everyone else in the cavern. His wings twitch from instinct, those two boundless planes of dark membranes stretching on both sides, casting long shadows across the cave walls.

And then, from within the centre of the darkness, it begins to rise.

The inky figure emerges slowly, its form taking shape from the void. A jelly of darkness, a silhouette of a body, bruised and glinting like a wet polluted membrane. The sight of it sends a sweat racing down my spine, my breath catching in my throat as my gaze is drawn to the eyes—those large, unblinking magenta eyeballs.

The eyeballs float, unmoored, in the places where eyes should be, staring out with an unnatural intensity. There's something profoundly wrong about those eyes, something that speaks of a deep, malevolent intelligence lurking within the creature's formless body.

"It's him," Law breathes, his voice taut with a mixture of rage and fear. "The one who took Penguin."

I know, I wanted to tell Law, if my throat would allow me. I know that figure all too well.

The figure moves with a fluid grace, the wet globules that compose its body swirling and shifting like a living translucent organ. The ground beneath us trembles with each of its steps, the cave's walls vibrating with the resonance of some unseen power. And then it stops, its eyeless gaze fixed on us, those eerie magenta orbs locking onto mine.

I feel a surge of anger rising within me, a fury that burns through the fear gripping my chest.

“Bring him back,” I whisper, trembling with rage, my fingers itching to reach for the hilt of my sword on my back. I take a step forward before Zoro can stop me, my face rising with the taste for retaliation. “Bring him back now.”

The creature’s magenta eyes blink wetly at me, piercing straight through my fury, through my deepest fears. The darkness around it seems to pulse, almost as if it’s responding to my demand. I grip my sword tightly, my knuckles turning white. I feel Zoro’s presence beside me, his intensity mirroring my own, but I can’t let myself be restrained by caution now. Not when Gramps is under this creature’s control.

Raya, Aragnus slowly whispers, a warning in his thoughts, but I indignantly push his voice away.

“Bring him back!” I bellow, louder this time, my voice echoing off the cave walls. The demand hangs in the air, but the creature remains still, its form rippling slightly as if it’s considering my words—or mocking them.

Suddenly, the figure breaks its silence with a raspy, wet laugh, echoing throughout the rocky foundation in malice.

“It’s you!” It rasps out, its voice choking with a sense of perverted want. “I have only ever wanted you, yet instead I now have an old vegetable, drained and spitting all over my walls.”

My chest tightens, anger flaring up like a wildfire threatening to consume me. “You little fucking shi—”

“Stop it,” Law snaps, his eyes narrowing on me, his hand thrown at my direction. He turns to the form, his jaw clenched tight. “What about my crew-mate? Where is he?”

The creature's wet, rasping laugh continues to fill the cave, echoing off the walls and reverberating in my chest. Its dark form shifts and contorts, a swirling mass of wetness that seems almost amused by Law’s demand.

“Trafalgar D. Law,” it rasps, spitting a glob of black ink onto the floor. The vile substance hisses as it hits the ground, and the creature shifts its gaze toward Luffy, its eyes narrowing with contempt. “Monkey D. Luffy. My two gleaming jewels. How is it that I am constantly fooled into capturing the sacrificial lambs instead of the true contenders?”

While Luffy bristles at the comment, I can see the realisation dawning on Law’s face as he processes the creature’s words, and the fury within my stomach begins to boil right upwards again.

“You’ve lost your edge, havent you?” I goad against my better judgement, taking another step, dragging an unwilling Zoro behind me. “If an old man and a poor crew-mate can outwit you at your own game, how powerful can you really be?”

Raya! Aragnus bellows within my mind, his voice thrumming with an edge to it. His eyes, unblinking, stare at me with a sense of fear that feels too unorthodox on his face. Remember your shackles. You cannot fight.

But it’s too late.

The creature’s magenta eyes flare with a sudden intensity, its form rippling violently as if my words have struck a nerve. The shadows around it writhe and twist, expanding outward in a furious storm of inky darkness that seems to consume the air itself. The low, rumbling growl deepens, growing louder and more threatening, reverberating through the cave like a thunderclap.

“You dare mock me?” the creature snarls, its voice dripping with venomous rage. The once smooth flow of its form now quivers with barely contained fury. Aragnus growls in his throat, his claws gripping and plunging into the floor with a terrifying intensity, but the creature does not pay attention to him. “You, a mere speck in the universe, dare question my power?”

The entire foundation of the room screams of danger just by its presence, the same danger pressing down on my chest like an invisible weight. I can feel the air vibrating with the creature’s anger, the darkness around it pulsing with malevolent force. Every instinct screams at me to back away, but I hold my ground, refusing to show weakness. I feel Zoro grab my wrist tightly until his knuckles go white, a silent plead to stop trying to pick an unbalanced fight, but I'm not in the right mind to listen. I firmly shrug his hand away.

In an instant, the creature lunges forward, a torrent of wet, pulsing liquid streaking through the air with a terrifying speed. Its form stretches, expanding into a monstrous claw-like shape, reaching out toward me with a deadly intent. The cave walls shudder with the force of its movement, dust and debris falling from above as the ground beneath us trembles.

“Raya!” Luffy, Aragnus and Zoro both shout at the same time, their voices sharp with urgency as Zoro yanks me backward, pulling me out of the path of the creature’s attack. The inky claw slashes through the air where I stood just moments before, its shadowy edges slicing clean through a stone pillar, causing it to crumble and crash to the ground.

I stumble but manage to regain my footing, my heart pounding in my chest as I stare at the destruction the creature has wrought. My breath comes in ragged gasps, but I quickly steady myself, anger flaring even hotter within me.

I don't know who I am anymore. My anger has now taken over my body; the muscles in my face and my arms flex to the beat of brutality. I flash a maniacal grin, and I can feel my pupils grow, deform, disappear within my eyeballs. A glow of white reflects against my nose and cheeks, and I can tell my eyes are on surging with power.

“Fuck you,” I spit out; the only two words that I can even think of saying in this state.

The creature recoils, its form rippling with rage at my defiance. The shadows around it pulse violently, as if matching its furious heartbeat, and the magenta orbs narrow to thin slits. The air grows colder, and the cavern fills with a thick, oppressive darkness that seems to seep into my very bones. I can feel its malice tightening around me like a vice.

"You insolent wretch!" the creature roars, its voice distorted and filled with a guttural fury that echoes through the cave. Its inky form expands again, the darkness condensing into another claw, even larger and more menacing than before, stretching toward me with lethal intent.

I feel Zoro’s hand grip tighter around my arm, his muscles tensing in preparation to yank me out of the way again, but I pull free from his grasp yet again. I’m not backing down this time. Not when this thing is right here in front of me.

Instantly, both of my hands reach for my towering longsword, and it screams a piercing shink as I unsheathe its raw metal. Slowly, as if drinking in on my intoxication, the runes on my sword ignite, burning with a blinding white light. I can feel the energy surging through the blade, crackling like electricity, the heat radiating up through my arm.

The runes glow brighter and brighter, the power within them responding to me, my desperate need to fight back. The chains around my wrists feel like they’re burning, but I push the pain aside, focusing on the creature ahead of me.

“Penguin, Sukiyaki. Where are they? ” I scream, thunder blending into my words, gold seeping through my veins, black consuming my entire vision.

As the creature lunges toward me again, I charge forward, tugging on with Zoro’s weight, raising my sword high. The energy coursing through the blade is wild and untamed, the light so intense that it leaves streaks in my vision. I swing with all my might, aiming straight for the centre of the creature’s mass.

But just as I bring my sword down, I feel a sudden, jarring pull at my wrist. My legs buckle beneath me, and I stumble, my swing going wide. The electrifying glow around my sword flickers, then dims as I lose my balance. The weight of the chains around my wrists feels heavier than ever, dragging me down like lead weights.

"No!" I scream, trying to steady myself, but it’s too late. My momentum is gone, and I tumble forward, hitting the ground hard. The impact sends a shock of pain through my body, and the sword slips from my grasp, its light fading as it clatters across the floor.

The creature’s shadowy claw slashes through the air where I had been moments before, just missing me as I fall. Its furious scream fills the cave, a sound of pure frustration and anger. It retracts its claw, its form rippling and contorting as if struggling to contain its own rage.

I struggle to push myself up, the cold metal of the chains digging into my skin, sapping my strength with every passing second. I can feel the weight of Zoro’s presence beside me, his muscles tensed and ready, but I can’t let this creature win. Not after everything it’s taken from us.

"Stay the fuck down!" Zoro's voice is rough, but there’s a hint of urgency I rarely hear from him. He's pulling me back, trying to shield me with his own body, his swords raised in a defensive stance. The creature’s furious eyes lock onto us, its form rippling with anger as it prepares to strike again.

Law is on the move now, darting forward with his sword gleaming in the dim light of the cave, but the throbbing, visceral creature is too fast as it senses his charging presence. Its body, bulging and round, falls like liquid onto the floor, slithering all the way toward Law’s feet. Law is stupefied at its speed, stumbling backwards and as the bulging black mess shoots straight upwards, Bepo roars in panic and charges towards the forming black shape.

But as the liquid starts to slink and seep towards Bepo’s feet, through his pure white fur, Law screams with a sort of wildness that ravages his throat.

"ROOM!" Law shouts, his voice echoing through the cavern as a blue sphere expands from his outstretched hand, engulfing the creature within it. "SHAMBLES!" With a swift motion, he swaps the creature’s position with a boulder, buying them a momentary reprieve.

But the creature isn’t easily fooled. It reconstitutes itself quickly, the ink swirling around it like a living storm. The magenta eyes narrow again, focusing on Law with a vengeful glare. It lunges forward, but Luffy intercepts, his rubbery arm stretching out to land a solid punch across the creature's face.

“Gomu Gomu no Pistol,” Luffy yells, but as his hand interacts with the creature’s texture, there’s no hard impact. Instead, his fist is swallowed into the creature’s clotted form, and as it does, the creature begins to open its mouth wider. And it swallows. And swallow, and swallow. Its mouth is like quicksand, trying to pull Luffy deeper into its dark mass, and Luffy’s eyes widen with a mixture of surprise and irritation as he struggles against the force.

“Franky, get the ship going!” I hear Nami scream, her heels clattering against the floor as she dives on board, dragging Chopper along with her. “Fall back!”

“Aragnus, get them out.” Robin’s eyes pierce the dragon’s whilst she conjures up an amalgamation of limbs. With a tidal wave of hands, she pushes and pulls all the Hearts and Strawhats toward the Sunny.

Aragnus roars, a deep, guttural sound that reverberates through the cave, shaking the very walls. He sweeps one massive wing down, creating a gust of wind that pushes the creature back momentarily. It gives us the smallest window, but it’s enough for Luffy to yank his arm free, the dark substance reluctantly letting go with a sickening slurp.

“Wait!” I shout, glancing back at Law. “We need infor—”

“No time!” Law cuts me off sharply, his face set in determination as he holds the creature back with another ROOM, the blue sphere enveloping the creature again. “Get on board, now!”

Franky has already started up the Sunny’s engines, the hum of the machinery growing louder. “Let’s get moving!” he bellows, his hands flying over the controls. The rest of the crew scrambles on board, some still dragging boxes and supplies.

Aragnus steps forward, his enormous head turning toward Zoro and me. His eyes are sharp, filled with both urgency and resolve.

Get on my back, now! He commands, his voice thundering through every single nerve in my body.

Without a second thought, I scramble up his scaly side, Zoro right behind me. The moment we’re both secure, Aragnus leaps into the air, his powerful wings beating down and shoots straight up to the ceiling without any warning. The sudden movement jerks me back, but I hold on tight, my fingers digging into his scales.

The creature below roars in frustration, its shadowy form expanding once more as it tries to reach for us, but Aragnus is too quick. We soar higher, the cave growing smaller beneath us.

Law and Luffy manage to leap onto the ship’s deck as it starts moving away, its engines roaring. The rest of Law’s crew is already on board the Sunny, still in the midst of securely attaching the half-broken Polar Tang to its tail.

“Everyone, hold on!” Franky shouts, turning the wheel sharply to avoid a falling boulder. The ships veer away just in time, the boulder crashing into the water below with a massive splash.

“Chopper, make sure everyone’s accounted for!” Nami yells, her eyes scanning the deck frantically. The doctor in question begins slipping and sliding on her command, taking in every and any pirate on board our ship.

As we fly higher, I glance back down at the cave entrance. The creature is still there, its form distorting with rage. It slams its claw-like appendage against the cave walls in frustration, but it’s clear that it’s stuck.

Aragnus rises above the cliffs, the sky open and vast before us. I take a deep breath, the cool air filling my lungs, and let out a sigh of relief. We’ve escaped, at least for the moment.

“Hey,” Zoro mumbles in my ear, his breath warm against my skin. His fingers tentatively reach towards my waist, curling them over me as if to make sure I'm really there with him. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I reply, though my voice is hoarse. I can still feel the cold bite of the chains around my wrists, a constant reminder of our earlier struggle. I turn around to look at his pale face, silently, frantically, examining him for injuries. “Yeah. Are you?”

He nods, his gaze shifting back to the creature below. “That thing isn’t gonna give up easily.”

Law, now standing on the deck of the Sunny, shouts up at us, his expression grim. “That thing is after us. It won’t stop until it has what it wants.”

“Then we’ll stop it,” I firmly say. I look at them all from below and to Zoro behind me. “We’ll all give it shit to reckon with.”

Zoro smirks and leans closer to my ear, his fingers squeezing my waist, a stray green curl tickling my skin. “You read my mind.”

Suddenly, I hear Chopper scream from below. His frantic hooves scratch against the deck in pure horror, yelling at anyone to pay attention to him.

“Chopper…” Zoro mumbles in bewilderment.

“Guys, please,” Chopper pants, sweat running stupidly fast through the wafts of his brown fur. “Something’s wrong. Bepo’s in trouble. It got him."

[neogeo-1]

The first chapter you are going to read in question is an archived first episode of a manuscript for a now lost audio story for Goncharov: One From Another. The reason why the story exists, from what I’ve gathered from senior coworkers, is that the director, Matteo JWHJ0715, was directing his new film Green Candles. However, there were a few budget constraints, and my seniors told me that Matteo hit them with this manuscript for a sequel of Goncharov or a miniseries to get some extra budget from the sales. The manuscript was then dubbed and played at our radio station and sold as cassettes. It was meant to be a miniseries in the sense that it was taking the foundation of Goncharov. It was about broken people from Europe wanting to feel useful and fighting their struggles both psychologically and physically, the story was meant to last 16 episodes, each lasting around 18 to 30 minutes. In the story, there were going to be prequels for the characters of the film and some characters were going to meet them or only hear their name on a radio or news report. The first few episodes were dubbed and played at our radio station in June of 1975 and sold on cassettes the same year. However, the reviews were poor, as the fans felt betrayed because it had mostly nothing to do with Goncharov, and the cassettes didn’t sell well. For those reasons, our station stopped playing the story, and production of the cassettes stopped, and I’m assuming that was the reason why Green Candle was cancelled. Luckily, while digging through the old crank storage, I found some of the manuscript and checked if it was still under any copyright law or not, and fortunately it wasn’t. So enjoy it.

Prologue

1974

I looked at the Statue of Liberty as the ship drew closer to the island of Manhattan. It felt ominous with what I was used to. Only seeing her on TV and reading her name on papers, it felt unreal seeing the beauty this close. I understood this wasn’t my home, but I imagined what was waiting for me might be better than what came before. A lot has happened this year. I read a paper a week ago that the great Mao Tsu Tung passed away and that president Nixon was involved in a scandal in which he resigned from his position. A lot has happened to me too, all the wars, all the abuse. It has put me in a state of shock that I may never recover from. A part of me hates myself for taking things too quickly, thinking that everything will go your way, with no price you’ll ever pay.

Chapter 1: Guts

1973, Ireland

Everything was quiet, the only exception being my car’s radio. There were reports that gang violence has surged in Italy ever since the fall of the USSR. I thought how strange the situation I was in was, pacing around in circles in a parking lot late at night. I was holding onto a hamburger that was likely reheated. In the backseat, there lay a standard uzi, beside it was a homemade mask made from an oversized beanie. There were some clips in there too. Maybe I would have gone by the lake and emptied some of the rounds if I wanted to but I decided against it.

The radio still went on and on. About death. Violence. Naples. War. Though there was a sudden ringing in the car. I picked it up and a familiar voice spoke to me.

“Ay Rory, my man. I need your help a bit.” It was Rankin, a friend of mine. It was strange to me that he called me this late. He wasn’t exactly the kind of person who has a nightlife. I tried to be nice to him and accepted the offer saying “okay su-“ though I choked on my food a bit before finishing my sentence “okay sure, where do you want me to pick you up at? The bus stop or at your place.”

“Yeah… my place.”

I started up the engine and started rolling out of there, going back to town. The streets were mostly empty by now, aside from a few people wanting some fresh air. Eventually, I made it to his place and slammed my arm on the horn once, just for him to notice if he hadn’t already. I could hear some sort of arguing within. It wasn’t the kind of arguing where both disagree upon each other but the voice of someone who is concerned for another. Suddenly, Rankin came rushing out with a bag and waltzed right into the car. He tapped on my shoulders, shouting “DRIVE, JUST DRIVE ALREADY!” I was confused why, but before I could ask any further. There was a slam on the window and saw that it was his partner. She kept on yelling something into the car but distracted between Rankin’s tempered shouting and her anger, I grew frustrated and drove out of there as quickly as possible. When we were far enough, I decided to ask him “what is this all about?”

He looked hesitant, thinking of something before answering “I was just going to see a friend and I decided to call you first before I announced it to her, y’know then she got… mad.” The answer seemed forced. Rankin wasn’t exactly the type of guy who visits people. Hell, he wasn’t even the type of guy who goes out unless something was important. I tried pressuring him to give me more answers asking “okay… so where’s this friend.” He gave another blank response saying “there. Stop there next to the checkpoint.”

I did as he said, pulling up next to the checkpoint, hoping he would finally give me the answers this time around. But however as I did, he just sat there looking at his watch. At that moment, I grew tired with what I was given. I let out a frustrated sigh before saying “Rankin, mate, that isn’t a fucking house. Nobody we know lives here. Who this fucking friend you keep saying about.”

“Okay listen, just wait okay. They said they’ll send a signal when they’re ready and just have to drive.” He said.

“Mate, I don’t care that you have some people waiting for you. I want to go back home already.”

Everything became less clear and harder to think. His vagueness didn’t help much either, always speaking in circles. The radio was still on spouting about the gang wars but this time the anchor was more intense as things went out of control. I leaned to turn the volume down a little just enough for me to think, just enough for me to breathe. Then came two knocks on the window. I turned to see what it was while my hand was just a few meters away from the volume. A British soldier staring back at me. His face was covered by darkness, only partially made out with what my vision offered. He wasn’t exactly in a full armor suit or anything. Just a simple green camo.

He asked me bluntly, “Is everything alright?”

I forced a smile saying, trying my best to sound casual “ah yeah mate. Everything is alright. Y’know we were just coming back from a party and made a new friend but he’s a little drunk, so I’m having a hard time for him to cooperate.”

Then he decided to ask, “do you mind stepping out of the vehicle? There’s been recent attacks and we’re trying our best to prevent those as best we can.”

“Yeah… yeah, sure”

I looked to see what Rankin was doing before stepping out and the bastard was still looking at his watch. Everything was getting more and more anxious, realizing both him and I might get arrested for this if we were caught. I didn’t know if he had any firearms or not and wanted to yell at him to grab my gun and start blasting, so we could get out of there, whatever this mission was. The radio became louder with the anchor yelling “THERE HAS BEEN A ROLLING SHOOT OUT IN NAPLES! I REPEAT THERE HAS BEEN A ROLLING SHOOT OUT IN NAPLES!”

Unexpectedly, everything became bright as the sky lit up in fire. Everyone was distracted. I turned to see what Rankin was doing. He was going through his bag he brought. How bright it was, I could see my items in the backseat. Then came the bang, my attention turned to where the explosion was. There was another bang, not from the sky but beside me. I saw pieces of glass shattered the windshield. The soldier lay dead as some of the blood landed on my face, smearing it a bit on my glasses.

I heard Rankin’s voice yelling at me, “GET BACK IN THE CAR!”

I jumped right back in. I slammed the door shut just as he passed my gear back to me. The mask. The uzi. Immediately I wore the mask and wrapped the sling around my shoulder. soldiers were coming. I fired some warning shots to make them scatter before stepping my foot on the gas, speeding off into the streets.

[mama-qwerty]

ive been sorta paranoid over the new presidency but strangely today ive felt. at peace? like i feel like we'll be fine. it wont be easy by any stretch but we'll survive this. i hope im right.

I've gotta be honest, Anon. I've been thinking about how to respond to this. I've read it a few times and don't think you're being snarky or pokey about it, so I'm gonna take this as a sincere thought. And I am in no way directing any of the anger or frustration I feel at you. Keep that in mind.

Because I don't feel peace. I feel more like a resigned dread. This was the absolute worst case scenario that could have happened in this election, and with the Republicans also controlling the Senate and possibly the House?

Yeah, 'peace' is not a word I would use.

We won't be fine. Not for a long time. He and his bootlicking loyalists are gonna gut, roll back, dismantle, or alter everything he deems unprofitable or unnecessary. Millions of people will likely be hurt under new guidelines, law changes, and regulations. He's made it very clear what his goals are, and they're absolutely not to help people, or strengthen support or protections for those who are vulnerable.

This isn't a matter of, "oh it'll be kinda bad for a few years, then things will get better!" because number one, it's not 'just a few years', when he's very likely to appoint more conservative judges to the Supreme Court. Those are lifetime positions, which means we'll be stuck with a stacked court heavily leaning conservative for the foreseeable future.

Number two, there's a real problem in this country with hate and anger taking over common sense and compassion. Neo-Nazi-ism is on the rise, and as long as people have an "us vs them" mentality, in which they think that all their problems are caused by, and will be magically solved if "them" are pushed down, we're just going to end up back here again with the next Republican presidential offering.

People respond to Trump's hatred and overt bigotry, and the Republicans are going to keep tapping into that to keep themselves in power.

Assuming there was no cheating or interference in this election (which is a BIG assumption), we've seen what a majority of voting Americans want. A spectacle. A figurehead for their anger, their hate, their greed. Well, they got one, and now the entire country--the entire WORLD--is going to be suffering under that.

That said, I do have a teeny little seed of hope in all this.

Trump's first term was one long stretch of "OMG WHAT IS HE DOING??" No one knew what he would do while in office--not even him. He bumbled his way through, being a daily embarrassment and thinking he had all the power to do whatever the hell he wanted. The whole thing was unprecedented, and left everyone standing slack-jawed at just how imbecilic and cruel and inept he truly was.

Everyone in Washington was in a constant state of shock, caught completely off guard at the things he said, did, and proposed.

So, he's had 4 years to plot and plan and surround himself with loyalists to help him make this term even worse.

But you know what?

The people in Washington who are infinitely smarter than him have had 4 years to plot and plan, too.

Considering he never shut up in those 4 years, the people with more brains in their pinkies than he has in his whole moldy body could strategize and plan for all sorts of scenarios if he came to office again.

Now people know how horrible he is. How he works. How he thinks.

And I have hope that the big brains tucked away in Washington have ideas on how to trip him up. How to throw up road block after road block. How to use the law to keep him from being an absolute fuckwad.

I don't know how likely that is. But I have hope.

Trump caught everyone unawares last time. Having him in office again is like a bad joke told twice.

But this time, we know the punchline.

And maybe that's all we need to turn it around on him.

[guardiancypress-txt]

sort of a preview for my jing yuan headcanons. mara-struck jing yuan...? but also not quite? idk how to describe this i hope it makes sense ^^

i can also just mostly stick to canon. let me know if you're interested in interacting with jing yuan or expanding on this hc

Of five people… three will pay a price.

You are not one of them.

The general, staring into the piercing eyes of the man he once knew, outlined by the dim, cold light, couldn’t help but feel that this scene was too familiar.

What makes you so sure of that?

The general had been in this position many, many times before. Facing down a criminal, restrained by soldiers, meeting them one last time before they are taken away. He’d seen the faces of many sinners, some terrified, some begging for their life, and some resigned to their fate. But this man… Blade. His wry smile radiated some unknown passion. It was uncanny, how much his face almost resembled those smiles of a certain type of criminal.

The general recalled one such situation, where a sinner clad in green struggled against enchanted restraints, with wild eyes and a wide grin, giggling like a madman even though he was about to meet his end. He’d shouted at the general.

“You pass judgement upon me now for my unpardonable sin, General Jing Yuan, but what about yourself? How does a General live so long as you have without becoming mara-struck? Everyone whispers about it! You must have discovered the same secret as us, haven’t you? Judge yourself for your own sin, or join us!”

“Silence.”

The general, with his cold, unrelenting glare, shut up the laughing, raving man, and waved for him to be taken away.

That man was only taunting the general, trying to get a rise out of him. The Disciples of Sanctus Medicus were a strange breed of criminal who always laughed in the face of their demise.

But, the man’s words still stuck in the general’s mind.

I don’t know. I don’t know how I’ve lived this long.

As general, it was Jing Yuan’s sworn duty to uphold order and punish evil. He’d personally seen to it that those who follow the Plague’s Author were locked away, for years and years and years.

And throughout those years, he’d seen many faces. Some had lost their mind. Some were despicably power-hungry. And some were, or once were, ordinary citizens of the Luofu, just like anyone else.

People who’d suffered loss at the hands of Lan themself. People who tired of the limitations of medicine aimed to help Xianshou people. People frustrated with their own brand of long-life. People who just didn’t want to die.

The general began to study these so-called Disciples of Sanctus Medicus in order to stop future criminal acts, he told himself. Yes, he continued to uphold the law, to do his duty. But he couldn’t shake this nagging feeling of curiosity. After all, in order to ensure peace for the Luofu, he had to get to the root of these problems, not just the surface.

The phenomenon of becoming mara-struck was truly a mysterious one. The alchemists called it an overwhelm of emotion stemming from too many memories, of living too long. The Disciples, as the general came to learn, called it a failure to accept emotion.

The general’s old master, in her determination to overcome mara, was consumed by it. Was her end orchestrated by mara, or by herself?

Blade, the general’s old friend, seemed almost like a completely different person than who he once was, and the general studied him closely. His piercing red wild gaze truly was almost like the Disciples, almost like those mara-struck who weren’t truly gone. Blade hated himself. He hated the way mara flowed freely through his veins. But every time his new friend Kafka whispered to him, the general could see very clearly what was happening. She was telling him not to hold himself back. The general was glad his old friend had found a new one.

And the general discovered that the seal the Vidyadhara had cast upon the Ambrosial Arbor did not subdue it with force, exactly. The nourishing waters rather enveloped the tree with energy, and it soothed it until it no longer wanted to grow.

This was all evidence for the general that perhaps, the Disciples had discovered something.

But General Jing Yuan never formally joined the Disciples of Sanctus Medicus. Sure, he thought about tasting their mysterious elixir out of pure curiosity for what might happen, but he knew he didn’t need to. No, he had no need for any tricks in their books.

The truth was, long, long ago, Jing Yuan had already met mara.

It started just as the alchemists predicted. Too many centuries of acting as general began to weigh on him, memories and emotion feeling heavy, mind clogging up with golden ichor.

And the general sat down, because his head hurt, and decided that he just needed to take a break for a while.

He closed his eyes, and felt the cushion underneath envelop him, soft as a cloud. He sipped a cup of his favorite tea, and he noticed how much warmer, and how much more flavorful, the drink suddenly seemed. Prickling branches grew smoother and gradually integrated with his mind. And he let himself rest.

And when he awoke, he found himself surrounded by concerned retainers, wondering why in the world he was taking a nap in the middle of the day. And Jing Yuan only laughed. He wasn’t truly sure of the answer either, but he looked and felt much better.

And so it went on for many years. Faced with mara again, Jing Yuan would simply take a nap, or enjoy a good meal, or go out sightseeing for a while, feeling the cool breeze on his skin. His mara was never purged, but grew inside him, and relinquished control to him. But for a while, he never quite realized what was happening to him. He simply laughed at his growing reputation as the Xianzhou’s “laziest” general. It was only after he decided to look into the Disciples of Sanctus Medicus that he realized what had happened to him. Most people when stricken with mara, apparently, panicked and tried to fight it with all their might, only making it worse.

However, even if the general hadn’t needed the Disciples’ fancy tricks to become like them, his studies into the organization definitely revealed to him ways to further gain control of his own newfound power.

So had the general committed an unpardonable sin? Technically.

But he always remained loyal to his sworn duty to protect the Luofu. He had to become invincible enough to face Destruction head on.

Phantylia made the mistake of assuming General Jing Yuan’s mind was empty, that it was ripe for her to fill with her power. But Jing Yuan was filled with tragedy and victory, with agony and love, with friends lost and friends gained, and he was happy to carry all of it with him, as he gave Phantylia a wild-eyed smile while golden ichor dripped from him.

Realizing the general was a decoy, Phantylia screamed in agony, and the wounded general fell. But he was confident enough that branches would rebuild his body as he let himself fall into a pleasant sleep.

Despite everything, the general still hesitated to call himself immortal. He had always accepted the possibility that one day, even his era would come to an end. But he set his sights on enjoying every moment of his life worth living.