#because why did you introduce her and give it some complexity

[gingerslemonade]

I don't think I can even, like, begin to describe all the ways and levels in which SSGN makes me mad.

[ddarker-dreams]

Golden Girl.

Gojo Satoru x F Reader x Geto Suguru.

Warnings: The psychological damage inflicted from Gojo Satoru's presence, canon-typical violence, Gojo and Geto are both kinda questionable in their own ways. Word count: 16k.

-Index-

April 1st, 2005. 

8:02 a.m.

-

You don’t get it. 

This campus is huge. Unbelievably so. If someone said you’d waltzed into the Imperial Palace, you’d believe them, and not just because you’re gullible. Although, that’d certainly play a significant role. 

Your suspicions strengthen after you walk over the third arched bridge. That’s an arched bridge too far. No school can have this many fancy-looking bridges, the schools back home are practically held together by chewed pieces of gum and scotch tape. Your jetlagged brain combs through the whirlwind you’ve endured in the past few hours. Did you give the wrong address to the taxi driver back at the airport? 

He did look confused, but you hadn’t given it much thought then. 

You go as still as a statue. 

… What if this is the Imperial Palace? If that’s the case, you’re definitely trespassing, right?

How do you explain that to any guards that might happen by? You can envision the headlines now — Foreigner Extradited for Trespassing, Sentenced to Life, No Chance at Parole. All those hours you spent working on your student visa would be for nothing! And you’d be in prison, which is a bummer, because you’re not rich enough to weasel out of the criminal justice system. 

You’ll have to join a prison gang, there’s no way around it. Would they let a fourteen-year-old in? In the event they don’t, you could always form one yourself. Leadership’s never been your thing, but it beats—

“Hey there,” a feminine voice calls out. “You lost?” 

You whip your head around to the sound’s source. Instead of seeing an intimidating guard ready to haul you off, there’s a girl about your age. She has brunette hair styled in a bob, a beauty mark beneath her left eye, and an unlit cigarette hanging from her lips. 

Unless the Emperor is issuing major budget cuts, this can’t be a guard. 

You consider her uniform. The high collar, sheer tights, long sleeves, and brown shoes match yours, but the skirt’s different. Yours flares out and cuts off right above your knees. This minor discrepancy makes you wonder if you’re breaking the dress code on your first day. You push the concern aside for future you to deal with.

“That obvious, huh?” You laugh. 

“Just a bit.” 

She introduces herself as Ieiri Shoko, a first-year student like yourself. You respond in kind, offering up your own name and grade. It’s a relief to know you won’t be arrested or wandering this complex for an eternity. She walks by you and turns on her heel, tilting her head. 

“Gonna come with?” 

You nod and happily fall into step beside her. She doesn’t seem to be in a rush, not that you mind. It gives you time to admire the idyllic scenery around each turn. There are lush green forests, gardens, and more traditional buildings than you can count. The only detail you find odd is how empty the area is. Besides Ieiri, there isn’t a soul to be found. 

“Ieiri-san, is today a holiday by any chance?” 

“Just Shoko’s fine,” she says, feeling around her various pockets. “And I don’t think so. Why? Too quiet?” 

“It’s almost like a ghost town.” 

Shoko smiles. “Enjoy the quiet while you can.”

Well, that’s a bit ominous, but you’ve yet to meet anyone in the jujutsu world who is 100% normal. You think it might be an unspoken requirement at this point. 

Shoko gives up on whatever she was searching for — a lighter, if you had to guess — and tucks the cigarette away. This reinforces your theory that those involved with jujutsu have one quirk at the bare minimum. By that logic, you must have some peculiar quirk of your own. Recalling your earlier Imperial Palace debacle, you realize it might be more than one… 

“Oh, by the way. All our classes got canceled,” Shoko says. 

You blink. 

“On… the first day…?” 

“Yeah. Something about a last-minute meeting,” she stretches her arms above her head and yawns. “I’m heading back to the dorms for a nap. I think yours is near mine, there are boxes with your name on them in the hallway.” 

What a relief! There had been no word on the packages full of your personal belongings you shipped here ahead of time. The hellscape that is checked baggage had no bearing on you. Immensely pleased with this revelation, you set aside the urge to explore and accompany Shoko to where you’ll be living for the foreseeable future. 

In keeping with the spirit of the rest of the school grounds, your room is spacious. 

Shoko left you to your own devices. You can faintly discern her presence in the room beside yours, laying down as she said she would. You thought you’d want to do the same, but something about the crisp morning air sliced through your exhaustion. You’ll ride the high and crash later. 

Adventure awaits — the exploration of the unknown, the sharpening of a faint, hazy image. 

You’re back outside again. It’s amazing how, no matter where you are, you can feel the wind in your hair and the sun on your cheeks. This serves as a grounding reminder that you’re real. Reality and the ambiguous nature of jujutsu are often at odds with one other, fighting to occupy the same space. Each side spins a convincing speech about why you should give it credence while discounting the other. 

Unlike a politician’s diatribe, there’s no changing the channel or turning down the volume. This invisible and perennial battle won’t ever gain total victory or retreat. There’s bound to be collateral, such is the nature of war. For some, it’s their life in a literal sense, for you, it’s sanity. Coherence. The incorrigible truth that two plus two equals four.

See, young kids aren’t given enough credit. They’re always watching, learning, and absorbing. They get the basic idea that two plus two equals four before they even know what numbers are. For instance, as a baby, you cry and writhe until your needs are met. There’s a framework. An adult in the vicinity plus wailing equals getting fed. Then later, it gets more complex. Not eating your vegetables plus getting mouthy equals timeout. So on and so forth. 

You accrue this network of information that makes life navigable. 

Then, while visiting some distant relative in the hospital, a massive hole gets blown into this previously steady network. Such was your experience. 

Something strange sat atop the IV in the small, cramped hospital room. The adults exchanged well wishes for the man surrounded by beeping equipment and blinking screens. Everyone present focused on this man, except you. You observed this thing, about the size of a sparrow, that flitted to and fro. Whatever it was, it had too many eyes. Each rolled in a different direction, like a bowling ball that couldn’t stop spinning. 

Eventually, a long yet thin appendage emerged from the unidentifiable creature. You stood petrified as it entered the man’s ear canal and sipped. The man groaned, beeps increased, and numbers flew high. It sipped harder. His screams grew louder. Everything got chaotic. People in white and blue entered the room. You heard words like ‘cardiac arrest’ and ‘defibrillation.’ Your parents dragged you away. 

The creature continued to sip. 

On the car ride home, you asked why no one stopped it. The creature plus its sipping equaled the man’s horrible pain. That’s what you figured, anyway. They asked for clarification. What creature? Where had it been? What did it look like? Since young kids are smarter than they’re given credit for, you recognized the tone that was directed toward you. Disbelief, but in a nice, adult way. 

If you insisted on the creature’s existence, they grew worried. When you told your friends — who in turn, told their parents — their worry grew. If every drawing you scribbled tried to depict the creature’s likeness, their worry overflowed. You overheard words like ‘traumatic experience’ and ‘coping.’ 

So, you stopped mentioning it. This stopped the concerned murmurings you’d overhear. You tried really hard to believe what they said about nightmares and mean imaginary friends. This worked well enough until you noticed similar creatures everywhere. On the playground, bus, graveyards, and abandoned houses. They weren’t all the size of a sparrow either. Some were tiny enough to be mistaken for gnats. Others were huge and salivated large pools against the ground.

It was around this time that you developed a second shadow. A spinning golden ring that could fit in the palm of your hand followed you everywhere. No one else could see it, but unlike the creatures, this ring didn’t scare you. Just the opposite, in fact. You considered it a guardian angel. 

If the gnats got too close, it’d slice through them. 

When the huge, drooling ones reached out their mangled hand, it’d cut through their wrists.

Later on, you’d learn this ‘guardian angel’ was called a ‘cursed technique.’ 

Smiling, you descend a flight of stairs. From today onward, you’ll be surrounded by people who don’t discount the equation you spent your early years erasing. They’ll be around your age too! You already like Shoko, she’s pretty and has a calming presence. You wonder what the others in your class will be like. How many will there be? Twenty? Your social studies class topped out at thirty-four. 

You hope you can befriend everyone. 

The gears turning in your head grind to a halt upon noticing the view. Maybe it’s how the morning sun casts a soft glow upon the verdure, or maybe you’re just easily impressed. Whatever the case, the sight stokes awe inside you. Trees line both sides of the gravel path ahead, their canopies inclining as if leaning down to hear a whisper. Smudges of green streak through the air, accepting any destiny the wind bestows.

What an image, straight from the pages of a fairytale book! 

You fish out your new phone, a hot pink Razr V3, recalling its camera feature. Even if the photograph isn’t award-winning, you want to preserve this moment. 

You can’t explain it. This intuition isn’t rational, it doesn’t adhere to that ever so reliable two plus two. It transcends. The fall of a domino, a flap of a butterfly wing. Seemingly unrelated yet intimately interwoven by invisible lines. 

Whether preordained or the consequence of chain reactions you’d have to trace since birth to understand, what happens next stains you its color. The soul grasps what logic dismisses. And right now, your soul says this moment in time and space should never be forgotten. 

As for why, your soul suggests you uncover that for yourself. 

Alas, you can’t actually stop time. Perception and reality don’t always agree. While it felt like everything came to a grinding halt, the wheels never stopped turning.

And so the powerful gust soaring from your right punches the air from your lungs. 

Gritting your teeth, you dig your heels into the ground. The sheer force pushes you back some inches. Next comes a hail of debris. Chunks of soil, sediment, and splintered wood descend. Recognizing this threat, your mind yells at your body to move. Those earthly implements are soaring faster than a bullet. However, the baleful gale restricts precise movement. You’re nothing but a bag of flesh and viscera to the indifferent swell. It’ll send you tumbling the instant your feet lift off the ground. 

Dodging isn’t an option. 

Those rocks… your cursed technique could dice them up, but then you’d get pelted with shrapnel rather than stone. 

Which is the better outcome? A body littered with numerous holes or a few craters? 

Your arms fly up to protect your major organs. You’ll endure what you can. 

Except, instead of enduring an onslaught, nothing happens. Nothing hurts, rips, or gets torn to shreds. 

The wind hasn’t stopped, but it no longer touches you. You jump back, out of the line of impact. The debris parts like the Red Sea and grants you safe passage. From this vantage point, you’re a witness rather than an unwitting participant. The unrelenting force rages on. You gape at the path of destruction it’s left behind, indiscriminately swallowing trees, foliage, and the ground. It looks like a meteor surged in a straight line through the forest. 

No matter what you’d chosen to do, if it weren’t for that abrupt opening, you would’ve died.  

Heart thumping wildly, you snap your head toward the direction this miniature storm originated from. Was it a curse? If it is, then you’re hopelessly outclassed. 

No, that doesn’t seem right, you think. You’re familiar with how it feels when a curse is nearby. Should it be close to your power level, it’s like getting splashed with frigid water. For curses above your abilities, that sensation gets amplified. It’s as if you’ve been plunged into the Arctic Ocean. Right now, you’re not experiencing either of those sensory nightmares. 

A silhouette walks through the dusty haze that destructive force left behind. 

“Whoops,” the person within says, “That was close.” 

You run over, swatting the dust lingering in the air. Anyone close to that force could’ve gotten severely injured. Concern seeps into your being as the figure emerges. 

“Are you okay?!” 

The first thing you notice is a head of white hair. Next is this person’s height, you have to crane your neck to meet his eyes. Eyes that were, for some reason, covered by circular sunglasses. There’s a sideways grin on his face, the absolute last expression you were expecting. From his uniform, you guess he’s a student like yourself. His most prominent feature isn’t anything visible. It’s the sheer aura he exudes, you’ve never experienced anything similar. There’s no hostility, but it’s intense. 

You inhale shakily. 

“Never better. You?” 

He sounds chipper. 

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” you reply, giving yourself a once-over. 

You pinch your eyebrows together while assessing your condition. The white-haired figure notices this and asks, “Ya sure? Nothing hit you, right?” 

“That’s the weird thing, though,” you frown. “I should be covered in dust, but there’s not a single speck.” 

His grin widens, like he’s in on some joke you aren’t. This plucks a cord of irritation within you. Narrowing your eyes, you take a step back. You focus on the cursed energy engulfing him, then compare it to residuals left behind by the force. The residuals in the path it carved out are too faint to properly discern. All you have implicating his involvement is a hunch. 

You remember how the gust itself felt, though. The ferocity that had every nerve in your body ringing funeral bells. 

Your eyes flit between the gaping maw and the sunglass-wearing stranger. 

“Want a hint?” He asks. You don’t miss the teasing lilt in his voice. 

“You caused that surge,” you deadpan. 

“Close enough, I’ll give half credit. Next question! What stopped you from getting buried in layers of dust?” 

You have no reason to play along, yet scampering off feels like you’d be conceding something. The competitive nature boiling in your blood refuses to admit defeat. Especially after he subjected you to that terror, without even apologizing! It’s the least he could do. What an inconsiderate jerk. You’ll knock him down from that high horse if it’s the last thing you do. 

Crossing your arms over your chest, you consider the information you have to work with. Whatever he did had to involve his cursed technique. Did he apply a shield to you? It’s the most obvious answer, but that doesn’t explain everything. A shield would lessen the damage, not negate it entirely. 

How did he pull that off…? 

As you’re piecing this puzzle together, someone in the distance yells, “Satoru!” drawing out each syllable. The person before you winces but doesn’t lose his boyish smile. You sense another presence heading this way. After you turn around to face this new addition, two large hands settle on your shoulders from behind. You bristle and try shaking them off, but this weirdo doesn’t let go. 

An older man with a severe expression stands atop the staircase. His uniform is pitch black, denoting a different status than a student, if you were to guess. 

“One hour,” he huffs out, “One hour, I ask for you to sit still and behave. And what do I come back to? An entire tunnel running through the school grounds?” 

“It was for good reason, sensei,” this ‘Satoru’ insists. He squeezes your shoulders. “[First] here mistook a bug for a curse and yelped, ‘Kya, there’s a curse!’ I, being the good samaritan I am, dispatched the threat with what I thought to be an appropriate amount of force at the time.”  

You make a face. “Eh?” 

“Huh?” Yaga must find this explanation as convincing as you do. His countenance filters through multiple emotions. Confusion, frustration, disbelief, and then, finally, exhaustion. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “You couldn’t come up with anything better than that?” 

“I didn’t come up with anything! Tell him, [First]! Are you going to abandon your savior when he needs you most?” 

Yaga turns his attention to you, pity evident in his eyes. 

“Satoru did… sort of protect me from something… in a way?” You mumble. 

Satoru’s fingers twitch when you speak his recently learned name.

Yaga sighs. “We’ll discuss this later, Satoru.” 

And with that, the first teacher you’ve met walks away, shaking his head. His demeanor reminds you of a disappointed parent. Suddenly cognizant of the unwelcome contact on your body, you jerk your shoulders forward. This time, he releases you. You get the sense he could’ve easily held on if he wanted to.

“Man, you suck at lying,” Satoru whines. 

“Me? What sort of cover story was that? If you ever become a defense attorney, your clients are screwed.” 

He throws his arms behind his head and grins. “You gotta admit, the impression was solid.” 

“That was the most egregious part!” 

“I thought it was a nice touch.”

You roll your eyes. Before this back-and-forth drags on, there’s a specific detail that’s nagging at you. 

“By the way, how do you know my name—” 

“Suguru, how long are you gonna sit back and watch? Voyeurism is frowned upon, y’know,” he cuts you off mid-sentence. 

Your eyes practically bulge out of their sockets at his not-so-subtle implication. Thrown back into a weirded-out limbo, you start slinking off. Forget trying to understand how he knows your name despite never telling him. These are the types your parents warned you about, you need to flee! Hormonal high school boys should be sectioned off until they’re no longer threats to society. Nuclear warfare pales in comparison. 

“She’ll never want to come near you again if you keep saying things like that.” 

Another student calmly strides out from behind a nearby tree. You squint, ensuring this isn’t an illusion. How long has this guy been here? Why couldn’t you sense his presence? Especially when he’s been so close, just a few measly feet back. The black-haired addition gives you a closed-mouth smile. Similar to Satoru, he’s rather tall. You’ll need a neck massage from all this looking up. 

“Geto Suguru. It’s nice to meet you,” Geto greets. 

You introduce yourself as well. 

“It’s your first day here, correct? How are you finding everything? Have any questions?” 

“None that I can think of, but thank you! It’s been uneventful, up to a certain point.” 

Satoru yawns obnoxiously loud, interrupting your exchange. “Look what you did, Suguru. She’s all prim and proper now. I might fall asleep.” 

You shoot him a scathing look but bite your tongue. 

“What? No need to hold back. Say whatever you want, I can take it,” he asserts, tilting his head enough for his sunglasses to slide down. Two pools of frosty blues bore through you. You freeze up at the sight. Snowy eyelashes, glittering, gemstone-like eyes, why would he ever hide them? You’ve never seen such a bewitching color. 

He strikes like a serpent at the opening you’ve given him. 

“All this staring’s gonna make me shy. You can take a picture, if you want. I don’t mind.” 

Any spell you were under withers and dies. 

“Actually, I was just thinking that you remind me of a celebrity,” you say. 

Satoru preens, interpreting your words as a compliment. Before his ego inflates enough for him to float away, however, you give him a smug smile of your own. 

“Ever heard of Sanrio’s Cinnamoroll? You two could be twins! It’s adorable.”

His shoulders droop and Suguru chuckles, the sound coming out muffled from behind his hand. You spin around, content, humming to yourself as you walk up the stairs. You block out whatever Satoru shouts in retaliation. His words go in one ear and out the other. Something tells you this is the best strategy for dealing with him. 

So far, you’ve met three classmates, and that was enough to exhaust you thoroughly. 

You wonder what everyone else is like. 

-

Later that evening, Shoko explains it’s just you four in your class. 

You finish chewing your takeout, swallow, and then reply, “Eh? Seriously? But this place is crazy big.” 

“Not many folks can use jujutsu,” Shoko says. She picks a mushroom up with her chopsticks and places it in your container. “Four students is a high amount, all things considered.” 

You plop the mushroom into your mouth. Savory flavors coat your tongue, warming your heart and your soul. Delicious food is the antidote to all woes. Presently, your biggest woe happens to have white hair, unfairly pretty eyes, and a knack for getting under your skin. Recalling your previous encounter makes you grimace.

“Hey, Shoko. Would I get in trouble for spraying Satoru with water?” 

Instead of responding, she stares at you, blinking owlishly. 

“What’s up?” 

“Haven’t heard any student but Geto call Gojo by his first name,” she explains. “We’ve only been here a few days though, so who knows.” 

You tilt your head. “Who is Gojo?” 

“Satoru. Gojo Satoru’s his full name.”

“... Ah.” 

You swipe a pillow from Shoko’s bed and slam it into your face. 

“I’ve been calling him by his first name?!” You whisper yell, heat rushing to your cheeks.

That’s far too intimate. This is awful, a tragedy, the end of your life that had just begun! 

Shoko rubs your back reassuringly as you process the harrowing information. 

-

This has been the first proper school day. 

Teachers have come and gone depending on the class. You and Geto have been taking notes, Shoko’s fallen asleep, and Gojo occasionally throws a wadded-up note at the three of you. Shoko’s collection piles up on her desk, Geto throws his away after reading them, and you chuck yours back at Gojo when the teacher isn’t looking. 

He catches it with a grin each time, as if you’re playing a friendly game of baseball. 

This guy really irks you. 

When it’s time to eat lunch, he’s the first to get up. 

“What does everyone want from the vending machine?” Gojo asks while clapping, earning your attention. “It’s on me.” 

Suguru requests Coca-Cola and Shoko, newly awake, says Oi Ocha. 

“I’m okay, but thank you,” is your response. 

Gojo swaggers over and you immediately regret sounding so polite. 

“First you don’t open my notes and now you won’t accept my generosity? Is this what it’s like to get bullied?” 

“I think bullying is typically worse than that,” you respond. His deep frown, although likely an act, still tugs on your heartstrings. Empathy is truly a double-edged sword. “... Georgia canned coffee, please.” 

Gojo points a finger at you. “Aha! I knew it! Something about you struck me as a caffeine addict.” 

(You throw a pen at him, which he easily sidesteps).

“Does the resident sugar addict have any room to talk?” Geto hums. 

“Plenty. When you eat sweets, it’s to enjoy the flavor. In other words, an experience! When you drink coffee, though, you’re only torturing yourself to keep your eyes open.” 

“Some people like coffee’s flavor,” Shoko chimes in. She rests her chin on her fist. “You would if it was sickeningly sweet.” 

You take in the sight of your classmates bickering. It stirs a warm, pleasant feeling in your chest, like walking outside on the first day of spring. Such a simple exchange instills a sense of normalcy, no matter how fleeting. Gojo’s larger-than-life personality, Geto’s sneaky ways of goading him on, and Shoko’s occasional wry comment; you sear it into your memory. 

There’s no real weight to the jabs everyone flings around, it’s like water off a duck’s back. 

“You’ll meet lots of interesting folks, I’m sure,” your jujutsu mentor, Ishimoto Akane, had told you. “Make the most of each day. Forgetting to live is the worst injustice you can commit toward yourself.” 

Smiling, you retrieve your pen/ammunition, intent on hitting Gojo with it eventually. 

-

Drizzle and heat olive oil in a pan. Add grape tomatoes, seasoning, and minced garlic. Stir occasionally until the grape tomatoes break down. 

A mouthwatering scent fills the dormitory’s kitchen. The clock reads 10:04 p.m, indicating how late this dinner is. You keep an eye on your pan as different shades of red smear together, forming the basis for your sauce. Content to leave it unsupervised for a spell, you walk to the drawer silverware is kept in.

The plates are up in an overhead cupboard. You stand on your tiptoes, straining your arm to grab a plate that has no business being up so high. 

“Need help?” 

You could recognize that voice in your sleep. Or, to be more specific, your nightmares. 

“I’ve got it,” you insist. 

“Yes, obviously, my sincerest apologies,” Gojo's cadence shifts to a somber, apologetic tone. “Please proceed.” 

You stretch your body to its limits, the muscles in your arm crying out for reprieve. Your fingertips brush over the plate’s outer rim. Mistaking this for victory, you pull it out at an awkward angle. The porcelain comes tumbling down to its imminent demise. Out of instinct, you squeeze your eyes shut, bracing for impact. 

In the moments that follow, you hear nothing shatter.

Confused, you reopen your eyes to see Gojo Satoru holding the still-intact plate.

You stare at him.

He stares at you (from behind his sunglasses, despite the sun not being out). 

Remembering your manners, you say, “Thank you.” 

Gojo hums. The low note injects dread throughout your system, as you can guess how the melody will continue. You reach for the troublesome plate. In accordance with your premonition, he takes sadistic glee in raising it high above your head. It stays up there as if it were a full moon. 

You take a deep, deep breath. 

“Gojo-san, can I have that back?” 

“Say ‘Pretty please, Satoru,’ and I’ll think about it.” 

“...” 

He stares at you.

You stare at him. 

“From this day forward, you cannot have any more of my cooking,” you announce as if you were a politician making a new law known. 

In what’s an exceedingly rare occurrence, Gojo doesn’t have an immediate retort. You may be unable to see his eyes, but you can tell his expression fell at your proclamation by the muscles in his face. 

“Wait, really?” 

“Really.” 

“Really really?” 

“Really really.” 

Gojo silently hands over the plate with a bow. 

“For you, madam.” 

His melancholic act is so convincing and disproportionate to the situation that you can’t hold back your laughter. Gojo’s true strength is his ability to annoy and endear in the same breath. For this reason, your irritation toward his antics never lasts long. You’re sure he’s aware of this and uses it to his advantage. So long as it remains innocuous, you’ll play along. 

“Start helping by chopping that basil and I’ll reconsider your verdict.” 

Gojo gives a hearty salute. 

“Yes ma’am!” 

-

Geto plucks the manilla folder you’re holding and says your name. Perplexed, you glance at him.

“This isn’t worth rereading a fourth time,” he explains. “It won’t be anything near as dangerous as it’s been made out to be.” 

He closes it and slides it across the table. You watch through heavy eyelids, blinking off sleep’s seductive whisper. The contents within — census data, maps, photographs — each piece of information refuses to absorb into your weary brain. You’re amazed you had the cogency to slap some proper loungewear on and stumble to the dormitory’s shared living space. 

“S’gotta be somewhat important, though, if we got woken up at three in the morning over it.” 

Geto laughs airily at that. “You’d be surprised.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“He means that anything involving the Zenins gets a fast track to becoming everyone’s problem,” Gojo adds from the doorway. 

You turn your head in the direction of his hoarse voice. He didn’t bother to fix his bedhead or put on anything half-decent. He’s wearing a gray v-neck and slacks, unlike Geto, who at least put on a pair of jeans. His trademark sunglasses sit ajar on his nose. 

Despite yourself, your heart skips a beat. He’s kinda cute.

Gojo gives you a lazy wave and grin. “Wow, you’re actually awake. I thought we’d have to drag you out of bed.” 

“In the spirit of maintaining harmony, I’m going to ignore that comment,” you grumble, getting up from the floor to sit on the couch. Gojo sits to your left, slouches into the armrest, and throws his legs on the table. What terrible posture. “Going back to what you said — who are the Zenins? Are they important or something?” 

Gojo furrows his eyebrows. 

Geto blinks. 

You glance between the two of them, feeling increasingly out of the loop. “W-What?” 

Gojo, being the fiend that he is, breaks out into unapologetic laughter. You gape at him, your cheeks going from cold to scorching. Geto shakes his head in disapproval over Gojo’s behavior. Still, a small smile works onto his face, further exacerbating your embarrassment. Gojo loudly poking fun at you is one thing, but you’re used to Geto having your back Or at least abstaining from either side.

Vexed, you shoot up, ready to storm off, but Gojo’s hand encircles your wrist. 

“My bad, my bad,” he manages through the occasional chuckle. “Come back. We’ll explain it to you.” 

You grumble beneath your breath yet ultimately acquiesce. 

Gojo peers at you from above his sunglasses. “Ever heard of the Big Three Sorcerer Families?” 

You shoot him an unimpressed look. “Would we be having this conversation if I had?” 

“Man, that must be nice. I almost feel bad ruining your innocence like this,” Gojo sighs, ever the melodramatic performer. “Hm… let’s see… think of them as the lame, jujutsu versions of Zapdos, Articuno, and Moltres.”

Sitting patiently, you wait for him to elaborate. 

He doesn’t. 

“Geto-kun, care to translate?” 

“With pleasure. So, since cursed techniques are inherited, families often want them passed on from one generation to the next. The Big Three come from bloodlines that hold some of the strongest techniques. As you can imagine, this has granted them lots of influence and power over the centuries. How they leverage these advantages, well…” 

Geto trails off and clears his throat. 

“—They use it to advance their own agendas and snuff out any meaningful change,” Gojo finishes for him. 

You nod. 

“Okay, I think I get it! So they’re like jujutsu lobbyists?” 

Gojo bursts into another fit of laughter. “I like that! Yeah, let’s call them that. Most of those geezers aren’t even jujutsu sorcerers themselves. They just sit around in the dark and scheme. It’s pathetic.” 

Gojo doesn’t care about mincing words. He’s the type to call it as he sees it, for better or for worse. Rarely do you sense such acrimony festering beneath the surface of his remarks. This matter is different. He’s smiling, but there’s a tense underpinning to how he sets his jaw. 

“Wait, okay, so, there’s the Zenins, but… who are the other two?” You ask. 

“The Kamo and Gojo families,” Geto answers.

Gojo, gojo… that name sounds awfully familiar, doesn’t it? 

This reveal doesn’t knock the breath from your lungs. You’ve been able to guess for some time now that Gojo came from money. How much exactly, you weren’t sure, but his designer clothes raised your estimates high. Your rich kid radar is as accurate as ever. 

You point an accusatory finger toward the white-haired male beside you. “We have a double agent in our midst, Geto-kun.” 

“It would appear so. How should we proceed?” 

You stride over to Geto’s side, creating the appropriate distance between you and the traitor. 

“Imprisonment without trial,” you declare, much to Gojo’s chagrin. “Solitary confinement too. Cosplaying as the working class is a federal offense.” 

“Hah? What sort of kangaroo court is this?” Gojo complains. He removes his legs from the table and sits properly, then crosses his arms over his chest. Continuing your charade, you pay him no mind. Instead, you stand on your tiptoes, cup your hands, and whisper into Geto’s ear: 

“The convict is disparaging our blameless judicial system. Shall we add ten years of hard labor?” 

A malevolent gleam passes over Geto’s eyes. 

“Let’s make it twenty,” he whispers back. You nod. Great minds think alike.

You return your attention to the couch, intending to update Gojo’s sentence, only to find he isn’t there. Yours and Geto’s deliberation couldn’t have lasted more than five seconds! Where did your prisoner run off to? His presence vanished as well, leaving not a single trace. It should unnerve you how in control he is of every aspect of his being. Maybe it would’ve had you not known him personally. 

Warm breath fans against your ear from behind. “I’m taking this corrupt official hostage.” 

With that, your legs give out faster than your brain can register. Your equilibrium is thrown into chaos as two arms lift you. The abruptness of it all has your limbs flailing for purchase and a squeak escaping your lips. Gojo takes care to ensure you don’t fall or harm yourself, but he doesn’t bother hiding his sadistic glee. You’re held bridal style against his firm chest. 

Trying to wriggle loose is a meaningless endeavor. Accepting your fate, you go limp, but not without requesting assistance. 

“Geto, are you really going to abandon me to the machinations of this criminal?” 

Geto walks over, consideration etched into his countenance, stoking hope of rescue in your chest. He reaches for you. It’s almost imperceptible, but Gojo’s grip tightens ever so slightly. However, his hand doesn’t pry you from the jaws of the beast. He just pulls down your shirt, which has risen to reveal a sliver of your stomach. 

Wow, what a gentleman.

“Did you ever consider that I might be a double agent?” Geto challenges, relishing in your visible frustration as much as Gojo. Such is the plight of those who wear their heart on their sleeve. 

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ve learned my lesson alright,” you retort. The foreboding nature of your words isn’t lost on them. They await your next move, which you swiftly deliver. “Gojo-san, let me down. If you don’t, I will bite you.”

You can feel how he beams down at you. “Oh, I never would’ve guessed that’s what you’re into— ah, Suguru, a little help here…?” 

Geto assesses the situation. After thinking it over, he helps steady you, then uses his newfound leverage to pull you free. He takes great care in putting you down, holding you steady until your feet are firmly on the floor. Your balance rushes to restore itself. In the meantime, Gojo clicks his tongue, processing the weight of Geto’s betrayal. 

You give Geto a thumbs up. “Good work. No one ever sees a triple agent coming.” 

“It was a split-second decision,” Gojo dismisses with a wave. His impassive expression morphs into a knowing smirk, like he just had a seismic revelation. “Ah, I get it.” 

“You do?” Geto hums. 

“He does?” You ask. 

“Yes and yes. Suguru, you were holding out to see if she’d use her cursed technique, right?” 

Geto doesn’t respond immediately, indicating Gojo’s theory holds some merit. Gojo stuffs his hands into his pockets and slinks back to the couch. His gait radiates smugness, although you can’t imagine why. Is that supposed to be a ‘gotcha!’ moment? 

“I’ll admit, I am curious,” is what Geto settles on saying, his smile apologetic. Or it’s meant to come off as such. 

“Why didn’t you say so sooner? It’s not like it’s a big secret or anything.” 

Geto and Gojo exchange looks. 

“You should be careful who you go about revealing information like that to,” Gojo warns. You’re not used to hearing this serious timbre in his voice. “Some cards should remain close to your chest.” 

Even if he’s being sincere, you can’t help but feel patronized. You’ll be the first to admit it — certain nuances of jujutsu society are lost on you. Akane wasn’t the type to care for such details. She said worrying about all that bureaucracy would age you prematurely. You half agree with her. Certainly, you shouldn’t let that influence you in the areas it matters most, like combat. However, while you’re in Japan, you’re under their regulations. It wouldn’t be wise to forget that. 

You purse your lips. “Obviously, yeah. I’m not going to go blabbering it off everywhere. But, I mean, you two are my friends. This’ll be our first time on the field together. Knowing what cards you have to deal with seems useful to me.” 

Gojo turns his head to the side and a few seconds pass.

“Friends, huh?” Geto finally murmurs, testing the word on his tongue. His next smile reaches his eyes. “Who would’ve thought a little sincerity is all it takes to get you flustered?” 

Gojo snaps his head back at Geto’s taunt. “Sorry, what was that? Aren’t you the one who—” 

You clap to redirect their attention. 

“Hey, hey, cut it out already. We’re going to be together for the next few days, right? Let’s all get along.” 

“You just care about going back to sleep,” Gojo accuses. 

“Yes. Exactly. That is all I care about right now. So, if it’s all the same to you, I’m headed to bed.” 

You don’t wait for their response. As stealthily as you can, you sneak through the hallways, careful to avoid creaky floorboards. Upon returning to your room, you kick your house slippers off. The digital alarm clock on your nightstand says 3:53 p.m. Those two kept you up far later than necessary! If this assignment isn’t a big deal like Geto claims, you wish he would’ve said so sooner.

There’s always the option of sleeping during the car ride, but if there’s anything you know about Gojo, it’s that everything in his vicinity can be subjected to torment. You wouldn’t put it past him to draw on your face or blare the horn once you finally nod off. 

Your head hits the pillow and you pray for rest to take you soon. 

Meanwhile, back in the shared living space, Gojo stares at the spot you once occupied. 

“Satoru.” 

“Hm?” 

“I think I get it now.” 

“That so?” Gojo runs a hand through his hair. “As long as you don’t get it too much.” 

Geto chuckles. After a pause, he muses, “Neither of us would be very good for her.” 

“You gonna let someone else scoop her up?” 

“Are you?” 

“They can try,” Gojo smiles. There’s no kindness behind it. 

Although this conversation could last well into the morning, in an unspoken understanding, they leave it at that. 

-

“Emerge from the darkness, blacker than darkness. Purify that which is impure.” 

Ink blots descend from above as if the sky were weeping. The viscous teardrops curve downward, creating a dome that swallows the surrounding area. Geto and Suguru have gone ahead, leaving you to carry out basic protocol. You jog to catch up with them. Geto slows down enough to make rejoining them easier, unlike Gojo, who carries on. 

“So, this is the stomping grounds of the mean ol’ curse that sent Kenji Zenin packing?” Gojo hums. 

“He sustained some serious injuries,” you remind him. Gojo just shrugs. “A fractured sternum and twelve broken ribs… that’s not exactly a walk in the park.” 

“A Grade One sorcerer getting whooped that bad by a Grade Two curse? Probably deserved it.” 

You sigh, recognizing that Gojo won’t empathize no matter what you say. 

The three of you were driven from Tokyo Jujutsu High to Kaizu for this assignment. According to Geto, the information you received likely exaggerated the curse’s capabilities as a way for Kenji Zenin to save face. It looks better for him if the higher-ups deem the threat he faced severe enough to ship off two of the school’s most promising students to handle it. Regarding your inclusion, Gojo so kindly said, 

“You’re like the little garnish on top of the entrée.” 

You can’t find the energy to get upset if he’s right. 

There’s no denying the immense gap in your abilities compared to theirs. You could feel it in the air the instant you met Gojo. For Geto, all it took was hearing a description of his cursed technique. The potential for storing and controlling curses at will is beyond your comprehension. There are so many applications, and so many advantages… you’re utterly outclassed. 

Should this demotivate you? Perhaps. You’ll never be as strong as them, it’s delusional to think otherwise. An individual’s proficiency with jujutsu is almost determined at birth. That doesn’t mean it’s static, it just means you have to find ways to excel with what you’re given. Envy is a waste of time. You want to learn from them and hone your abilities. For this reason, you’ve avoided an inferiority complex. 

What could be better than learning from the best? 

The atmosphere inside the curtain is dingy. It’s like a dark filter glazed over your eyes, maiming any bright or vibrant colors. 

Grass crunches beneath your feet despite summer’s abundant rainfall. Nature itself flees the scene, retreating into the woods surrounding this derelict nursery. The briefing you were given went over the business’ murky past. In the seventies, there was an unprecedented boom in births around this area. Working parents needed proper childcare until their children were old enough to attend school. What few facilities existed nearby found themselves overwhelmed. Then an older, childless couple, Mikami and Fujikawa Tetsuo, purchased a plot of land outside the town with their retirement money. They cited the picturesque scenery as their reason for choosing this location, believing that the unpolluted air would be good for the children. 

The nursery was built and opened. For years, parents entrusted their little ones with the tight-knit staff headed by the Tetsuo’s. Nothing of note occurred until early in the eighties. On March 24th, 1982, a child was hospitalized after crying ceaselessly for three hours straight. The mother reported that when she picked her daughter up from the daycare, her daughter had been unusually distraught. She didn’t think much of it at first. Toddlers are known for being emotional. However, as time went by and her screams became hoarse, she felt something was terribly wrong. The little girl was given mild sedatives and IV fluids as her body began to suffer from dehydration. 

The next day, all seventeen children at the daycare suffered the same mysterious ailment. 

Each child underwent tests ranging from bloodwork to brain MRIs to determine what the inexplicable cause of this nightmare could be. Professionals in every area, ranging from renowned neurologists to child psychiatrists flew in from around the world. Naturally, an investigation was opened into the nursery and its owners. No formal charges were made against Mikami and Fujikawa, since no evidence of foul play could be found. Regardless, the community ostracized them and any employees present during the incident. 

Tragically, none of the eighteen children recovered. From the instant their sedatives wore off until they were administered again, they’d screech, thrash, and display aggressive behavior toward nurses and family members alike. Parents were faced with the impossible decision of keeping their child ‘alive’ through life support, holding out for a cure that may never come, or granting them a peaceful yet permanent rest.

Only one family kept their child on life support. He remained in a vegetative state and died from complications related to an infection two months later. The seventeen other families, who had grown close through the harrowing ordeal, turned the machines keeping their little ones alive at the same time. 

This report might be one of the worst things you’ve read. 

Scanning the area, you note faint residuals of cursed energy throughout the decrepit playground. The swings, slide, and both sides of the seesaw contain trace amounts. Did curses form as a consequence of what happened here, or did a curse initiate the disaster? It may not matter now, but all those families never receiving proper closure makes your chest feel tight. 

Painfully so. 

Considering the officials never found physical evidence, you believe a curse was the cause. What were the victims supposed to do? What could they do? Non-sorcerers can’t perceive curses, much less defend themselves. They have to be chewed, swallowed, and digested. 

You kneel at the playground’s edge, inspecting the planks of rotten and peeling wood. It must’ve been assembled by hand. Each piece was planned, cut, and dutifully laid down. All to hold the wood chips that’d protect the kids as they ran, laughed, and played. This place should’ve been a fond memory for them to recall throughout their life. 

Instead, it’s the reason they’d never got to have one.

“The cursed energy is concentrated in the nursery room itself,” Gojo determines. 

You follow his line of sight and squint. You could tell the building was submerged in cursed energy, but you couldn’t pinpoint an exact location. 

“It’s moving in the same pattern, like a grid,” Geto says. Another observation you couldn’t make. “Starting in the top left corner, ending in the bottom right, then starting the process all over again.” 

Standing up, you dust the dirt off your skirt. “Why would a curse do that?” 

From a tactical standpoint, moving predictably is reckless. Any combatants could use the knowledge to their advantage. Curses have some degree of self-preservation, hence why they don’t waltz everywhere without a care in the world. They’re intelligent enough to avoid spots that sorcerers frequent. Fly heads are the lone exception, but that’s because they lack the intellect necessary to care for their survival. 

A curse capable of inflicting such serious wounds on a Grade One sorcerer can’t be that weak. 

Gojo exchanges glances with Geto, a semblance of understanding connecting them. You’ve witnessed this wordless exchange before. No matter how much they bicker over conflicting values or petty non-issues, they maintain the ability to synchronize their thoughts and actions. 

“What is it?” You snap. As soon as the acrid words leave your mouth, you regret it, although they don’t react. Taking a deep breath, you try again. “Communication is important for these missions, guys. Keep me in the loop… please?” 

Geto parts his lips, but Gojo cuts him off. “There are eighteen cribs inside. The curse is fixing the blankets in each one.” 

You shiver. 

“... Oh.” 

“How do you want to go about this, Satoru?” Geto asks. “It can’t be as simple as walking in and exorcising it.” 

“Why not? Its cursed energy is consistent with what you’d expect of a Second Grade. We both know this job’s smoke and mirrors, anyway. Let’s wrap it up already and head home.” 

“Isn’t it strange the curse hasn’t been drawn out, despite a curtain being cast?” You point out. 

For the first time since exiting the car, Gojo looks at you. You stare back at the two black circles that obscure his omnipotent eyes. Something’s been off ever since you embarked on this mission. It’s like an itch you can’t scratch, as its location shifts elsewhere whenever you try. His words have had an edge to them when directed at you. You’re used to his lackluster manners, but this is different. 

This cuts and it cuts deep. 

Are you that incompetent to him…? 

Gojo redirects his gaze toward the ramshackle building. 

“I’m getting this over with,” he says. Simply, decisively. Leaving no room for argument. 

Leaving no room for you. 

Massive tendrils of cursed energy coil around him, flowing unimpeded like water through a rushing brook. You step back solely from reflex. Anticipation thrums through the air and ignites every nerve in your body. You’re left wide-eyed and breathless as it gathers and grows, its potency hundreds of times greater than anything you’ve been able to achieve. It feels as though minutes have dragged by, reacquainting you with the surreal sensation you underwent upon meeting Gojo Satoru that fateful day. 

“Cursed Technique Lapse: Blue.” 

Up until this point in your life, you thought you knew destruction. What hubris, what naivety. Gunfire, grenades, tanks, bombs, missiles; they are nothing but ants before the looming skyscraper that is Gojo Satoru. 

This is destruction in its raw, purest form. 

This is what it means to be the strongest. 

… Somehow, you feel lesser than that ant. 

A speck of dust would be a more fitting description. 

You expect total disintegration when you reopen your eyes. You aren’t disappointed.

Concrete, wood, glass, steel, plastic, stone, and fabric alike were eviscerated. The ground where the nursery once stood is gone. A bygone era wrought with tragedy. The force behind this apex of energy blasted the wood partition around the playground, leaving nothing but a shadow to signify it ever existed. 

Gojo lowers his hand and turns away from the wreckage. 

“Don’t you think you went a bit overboard, Satoru?” Geto’s tone reminds you of the many scoldings Yaga has given the white-haired menace. 

“Just wanted to ensure the threat was dealt with, so Kenji can sleep through the night without wetting himself,” Gojo replies, smirking. “Alrighty then, who wants to sightsee—” 

“Naptime… naptime…” A garbled voice intones from the aftermath of Gojo’s attack. 

The deformed curse lifts itself like a marionette fastened to invisible strings. It’s tall, with an emaciated build and haggard skin. Long clumps of thick hair emerge from its scalp, greasy and matted. Each feeble step it takes is accompanied by a snapping sound, as if its joints are begging for collapse. The humanoid shape disturbs you most of all. Cracked lips, bloodied eye sockets, chunks of deathly pale skin sloughing off brittle bones; this curse looks more like a corpse than anything else. 

Most damning, however, is the sheer power it’s radiating. 

“Do… they… slumber…?” It croaks.

Suguru assumes an offensive position, but Gojo puts an arm out, stopping him. 

“Something’s off,” Gojo warns. If you thought he sounded serious before, that doesn’t compare to his timbre now. “Don’t attack it.” 

The curse’s legs give out. That doesn’t stop it from crawling on. Lanky fingers claw at the rubble, searching desperately.

Geto summons a handful of curses in its radius. He keeps them on standby while the three of you track every movement, every ebb and flow of cursed energy. The curse grabs and cradles the sediment in its crooked hands, then rocks the amalgamation as if it were a baby. 

“Did you hit it?” You whisper, knowing fully well the question is pointless. You don’t care. You need any semblance of control possible when confronted with the terrifying unknown. 

“I did. The impact inflicted zero damage,” Gojo removes his sunglasses and tucks them away.

“A special condition, then?” Geto proposes. “One that makes it impervious to all harm until…” 

You hear a sniffle. 

Then a whimper. 

And a gurgle. 

“Hush, hush, hush, hush, hush, hush, hush—” 

The curse repeats this mantra with increasing aggravation until its shrill voice is all you can hear. The cursed energy that enveloped it seconds prior flows out in multiple directions, like a heart pumping blood to the rest of the body. The energy is absorbed. Not a meager trace remains, every drop was sucked dry by multiple sources. 

All is still. 

All is silent. 

A bloodcurdling wail reverberates throughout the curtain. 

Eighteen appendages propel out of the curse in the middle, puncturing it from the inside out as if the limp mass was a cocoon. 

There’s no need for deliberation.

The three of you scatter in different directions. 

“Cursed Technique: Ophanim.” 

Two glowing, golden rings the size of wheels manifest by your side. The outside surface is adorned with closed eyes, each arranged individually on top of the other rather than in pairs. The two rings work in tandem to slice through the appendage barreling toward you. You recall them to your side, running at a breakneck speed to avoid the five fleshy appendages still seeking your demise. 

Gojo and Geto are in a similar predicament. Running, leaping, and dodging the seismic attacks that leave massive craters in its wake. A single hit from that would crush your body in an instant. Then there’s the disorienting wailing, originating from multiple locations throughout the curtain’s interior. You can’t pinpoint where the sounds are coming from. 

Adrenaline pumps through your veins, oxygen rushes with each sharp inhale, and your muscles strain to keep up with the demands you make of them. 

The sixth appendage, which your cursed technique cut through, lurches from above. Whole and better than ever. Unlike before, its momentum is lightning-fast. The change is so instantaneous that you have no time to respond accordingly. Death’s harbinger looms, engulfing your existence in its hungry shadow. Instead of slicing it off at the wrist, you propel your rings up, accelerating their spin at the cost of speed. Flesh and cartilage rips above you in the shape of a thin slit. 

The appendage plummets down. 

Through the ringing in your ears, you hear voices yelling out your name. 

An unpleasant, viscous substance coats you from head to toe. 

You grimace and wipe off what you can. Geto’s curses managed to cut the appendage off at the joint, preventing it from rising and trying to crush you again. Your rings barely managed to carve a hole big enough to span the width of your body. That doesn’t mean you’re safe just yet — the five remaining appendages that have you as their target are seconds away. Unlike the one you just faced, their speed is manageable. 

The more damage inflicted, the faster they are after healing, you think. This must be why Gojo and Geto are dodging instead of going on the offense.

However, since you remained still to avoid getting crushed by what your rings hadn’t cut through, the other five appendages are inbound. They’ve fanned out, blocking any angle you’d use to dodge. 

You dismiss your cursed technique. 

What can be done here? This curse is easily a Grade One. The centermost part is invulnerable and the eighteen limbs growing off it speed up when damaged. Summoning more rings so you can escape this attack means the next will come swifter, building and building to unimaginable speeds. You know your limits. The second healed limb was a hair below the fastest you’ve ever run. 

Gojo and Geto could handle the levels above that. Maybe there’s a limit to how many times the limbs can regenerate, reaching that could exorcise the curse. No curse is truly invincible, even if it seems like it in the moment. You must be the reason why they haven’t commenced a counterattack. They knew anything above a second regeneration would do you in. 

Is that really the only way? 

Something wet drips on your head.

You use what little time you have to glance up. 

Suspended midair is a small outline, made visible by the viscera that spurted from your cursed technique’s earlier attack. Sluggishly, you blink, wiping the blood from your eyes to ensure you aren’t hallucinating. The outline’s edges wriggle and squirm. You realize that it’s doing so in time with the incessant wailing. 

“What do you think you’re doing, spacing out in the middle of a fight?” 

Gojo must’ve warped in front of you.

You recognize the hand motion he’s making, and cry out, “Don’t! That’ll only make it—” 

“I know, I know,” Gojo launches a devastating blow that obliterates the five incoming appendages, reducing them to pitiful scraps. “I didn’t just run a marathon for you to give up and become a pancake.” 

“I didn’t give up,” you snap back. 

He glances over his shoulder and grins. “Good. Cause we need to hose you off as soon as possible.” 

You let out a noise in between a laugh and a cry. How can he crack jokes under these dire circumstances?

“Gojo—” 

“Ah ah ah,” The menace cuts you off, “Satoru. Call me anything else and I’m leaving you to handle this on your own.” 

While speaking his untimely quips, he continuously forms and releases his Cursed Technique Lapse, Blue. This forces the broken appendages into a cycle of stitching themselves together only to get destroyed again. It stuns you, how he can casually hold a conversation while performing a technique that’d use all your cursed energy to execute once. Never mind countless times in rapid succession. 

“Satoru,” you try again, to which he hums, “This… thing above me, do you think it’s…?” 

“The weak spot for this Ju-On ripoff? Yeah. Just noticed that. Suguru’s curses are self-destructing near them, so their invisibility’s useless.” 

The six appendages that tracked Satoru join the fray, granting Geto additional space to maneuver unhindered. Floating blobs covered in the innards of curses appear one by one like macabre lanterns in the night sky. You can’t stop yourself from admiring how effortless they make it look. It was all you could do to avoid the curses’ attacks, that required every ounce of your cognition. Meanwhile, they pieced together the curses’ gimmick and started countermeasures. 

“Anything broken?” Satoru asks. 

“Just a few sprains.” 

“Great. Now, I’m about to ask for a lot, but it’s nothing I don’t think you can’t handle.” 

You exhale shakily. 

“There’s another application of your cursed technique, right?” 

How does he know that? 

You’ll worry about this oddity later. 

“There is, but,” you stare down at your blood-soaked hands, “Why are you asking?” 

Satoru takes a moment to consider his response. The gory splatters are reforming faster and faster, you’ve lost count of how many blasts he’s used to cut them down. It’s almost imperceptible, but you can tell he can’t keep this up forever. Each subsequent use of Cursed Technique Lapse: Blue requires more energy than the last. If he’s a sliver off in his calculations, then the appendages will heal instantaneously and skewer your body faster than death can claim you. 

Geto leaps down from a hovering curse. 

“There are seventeen sources, just like you said,” he huffs, wiping the perspiration trickling down his temple. “Each one is visible now.” 

Seventeen sources? 

“This eyesore’s a distraction. Those screaming curses — they’re the real target here,” Satoru says. 

You consider the curse a few feet above your head. “So we should attack them, right?” 

Geto shakes his head. “We tried that. They didn’t sustain any damage.” 

“Seriously?” 

“This is just a theory, but,” Satoru takes a deep breath, “Seventeen of the eighteen victims from this place had their life support pulled simultaneously, right?” 

Huh. So he did read the briefing after all. 

This conjecture prickles at your skin like tiny needles. The screaming, the small stature these curses have, every detail comes crashing down at once. Maggots writhing beneath your skin would be more pleasant. 

It isn’t them, you tell yourself, because you have to. It’s an echo. The curse they left behind. 

You steeple your fingers. Cursed energy thrums around and through you, reverberating in your bones, and crackling throughout your soul. Simultaneously. That’s the key here. These curses can pull off their various immunities by using conditions to their advantage. 

The two warding off the original curses’ attacks before you are strong, yes, but this niche fits you well. 

If you’re able to perform it properly, that is. 

You accept every drop of cursed energy your body can handle. Once you’re filled to the brim, it’s expelled, rushing through the air like geysers. 

“Cursed Technique: Null.” 

Your ability is versatile if not simple. 

You can call forth golden rings that perpetually spin clockwise. Their size, speed, and sharpness are determined by you. At this point in your training, you can maintain two of these rings without sacrificing speed or sharpness. Should you bring out any more, they will dull and slow down for each addition made. Two could slash through steel, four could cut the same slab halfway, six would make a sizable dent, eight would leave a scratch; so on and so forth. 

There’s an additional application beyond this. 

Cursed Technique: Null — the pinnacle of the innate ability you inherited, Ophanim.

The sorcerer creates three rings around any object or organism. One spins around the target horizontally. The other two slant left and right respectively, all spinning counterclockwise. The closed eyes adorning the ring’s outside fly open. Unblinking, hypervigilant. If what they’re enclosed around is significantly weaker than the sorcerer, it can halt the movements of whatever or whoever is within. 

Your record is halting thirty mice for a total of two minutes and four seconds. 

Afterward, you can either dispel the rings or pull them toward the epicenter. The rings then slash through the target like a fruit slicer. 

You see the seventeen silhouettes emphasized with blood. 

As you will it, three golden rings surround each one. The cursed energy swaddling them hisses and resists your designs. Their wailing crescendos, culminating at an ear-piercing pitch. The fussing stops abruptly as the eyes on each ring open wide. Seventeen different targets, fifty-one rings… it is draining cursed energy from you fast. 

Four seconds. This is as long as you trust the halt to work.

That leaves the issue of cutting through them. 

These aren’t the used soda cans you’ve practiced on. They are curses, Semi-Grade One if you were to guess. You’re a Grade Three sorcerer. The chasm here won’t be bridged by a miracle, you’ll have to risk catapulting across and plummeting to your demise. Satoru’s likely unaware of your technique’s specifics, as even you required trial and error to determine this much. You never found documentation on Ophanim. Every unraveled facet is owed to you. 

These fifty-one rings are too dull. They won’t make so much as an indent.

What you need here is a binding vow. Your own strength isn’t enough. Risk, danger, and death breathing down your neck; these are the ingredients you require. There’s a chance it won’t work and you’re condemning yourself to an early grave. If you don’t try, though, you don’t know how long Satoru and Geto can keep those appendages down. 

Time to leap across. 

For every second I don’t exorcise these curses, ten of my bones will break, you think. Should I reach ten seconds, my heart will stop.

Cursed energy surges through you. It finds the prospect of your end tantalizing, but without providing itself, won’t have the opportunity to claim you. 

One.

(The rings gain immeasurable speed).

Two. 

(It hurts, but the curses will hurt too). 

Three. 

(Simultaneous incisions are made through seventeen curses).

The wailing stops. 

…

So does your breathing. 

-

August 15th, 2005. Grade One Curse  ‘The Caretaker’ and Semi-Grade One Curses ‘Little Ones’ were exorcised at 9:34 p.m. in Kaizu.

-

Hospital rooms aren’t renowned for their interior design. 

Flimsy pillows, scratchy gowns, thin blankets, bright yellow lights, ghostly white walls, it’s an affront to the eyes. You almost want to continue resting if that’s all you’ll get to look at. Considering how stiff your neck is and how your limbs feel heavier than a grand piano, you assume you’ve done enough sleeping. 

You prop yourself up as much as you can. This slight shift makes your body complain, nice and loud. 

Footsteps rush over to your bed. You hear your name spoken, intermixed with a relieved sigh. 

“You don’t stay knocked down for long, do you?” Geto muses. His smile is gentle and his eyes crinkle in delight. “Welcome back. How do you feel?” 

“Like I got run over by a train,” you rasp. 

You’re in desperate need of some vocal warmups. 

Geto grabs a water bottle from the windowsill and hands it over. While you gulp the heavenly elixir down, he continues speaking. 

“You weren’t out for long — two days. Well, two and a half days. It’s noon now.”

You relax after hearing this. Geto knew how to assuage any worries you might have before you dared to voice them. Everyone has their own way of bringing kindness into the world, this happens to be his. 

“Seriously? I was expecting you to say it’s the year 2010 or something. No flying cars yet?”  

“None that I’ve seen,” Geto’s laugh sounds light and airy. “Shoko’s reversed cursed technique is truly a marvel. It accelerated your healing, but I imagine the pain will linger a while longer.” 

You’ll have to cook Shoko one of her favorite dishes when you get back. You don’t want to think about how long it would’ve taken for you to heal naturally, much less if it’d heal right. Bones are finicky like that. You imagine yours weren’t happy at how you offered them up on a silver platter. 

She spared your family so much pain. You’ll forever be indebted to her for that.

Glancing around, you notice three mismatched chairs surrounding your bed. Geto follows your line of sight.

“Shoko and I finally chased Satoru out about an hour ago. He’s lived in this room since you were admitted. Didn’t sleep a wink either,” Geto gives you an expression you can’t quite place. “Around the forty-two-hour mark, he started making strange suggestions.” 

Heaviness seeps into the air, thick and palpable, like a noxious gas.  

“What kind of suggestions?” 

“Suggestions like killing the higher-ups, for starters.” 

Your thudding heart leaps to your throat. “... Huh?” 

“It’s not anything he hasn’t said in jest before. This time, however,” Geto fixates his attention on the intravenous line threaded into your arm. You can feel the weight of his stare. “He wasn’t joking.” 

It feels like you’re in one of those dreams that mimics reality so well, the line separating the two becomes increasingly distorted. You entertain the theory briefly. A single sweep of the room dispels the illusion. The loose thread on Geto’s shoulder, the sounds of carts rolling down the long hospital corridors, the lemon-tinged scent from cleaning supplies; could a dream be this detailed? 

You don’t think so.

Sensing your haziness, he clarifies, “I talked him out of it by speaking in your stead. I assumed you wouldn’t want that.”

“What… what do the higher-ups have to do with anything…?” 

How do they factor into the two plus two equals four equation? 

Geto pulls a chair over to your bedside, sits, and contemplates. Such a grave visage doesn’t belong on a fifteen-year-old’s face. It reminds you of a father preparing to explain why he and their mother are getting a divorce to their children. 

He weighs his next words on a scale only he’s privy to.

“Satoru had a gut feeling that there was more to the Kaizu mission. He must not have wanted you to have that in the back of your mind out on the field, since all it takes is one mistake to—”

He cuts himself off. His complexion takes a pallid shade.

You give him a gentle smile. Geto is more considerate than you initially gave him credit for. Ignoring the dull ache, you lean forward, placing your hand over his.

“It’s okay. You can keep going.” 

The tips of his ears turn red. 

He blinks rapidly, clears his throat, and then soldiers on. “R-Right. Well, you saw how he acted. With his Six Eyes, he spotted the remains of another sorcerer when he looked at the nursery. The briefing conveniently omitted the fact that Kenji wasn’t alone. This confirmed Satoru’s suspicions. He wanted to wrap things up fast to get you out of there, but… that curse proved challenging.” 

“I’m getting this over with.” 

Ah. So that’s why he came off that way, you think. Still… couldn’t there have been a better way? Why is blocking people out his go-to?

“We believe the Zenins — those in Kenji’s immediate circle, to be specific — hoped that you’d be… killed, to emphasize how formidable the threat he faced was. Since this job was assigned through the school, some of the higher-ups must’ve known and granted their blessing.” 

“... Oh.” 

The room’s air conditioning whirrs to life, billowing the beige curtains draped over the closed window. Outside, a cicada crawls over the glass pane. It pauses to recite its buzzing melody. Since it’s summer, you can expect to see and hear these insects until autumn’s chill sweeps away the heat. 

You hope Satoru witnessed a similarly trivial scene while sitting in this room.  

It’s important to remember just because you feel stuck, the world won’t stop spinning onward. 

“Would it be okay if I called you Suguru?” 

He nods without hesitation.  

“Suguru, earlier you said that you changed Satoru’s mind by voicing my perspective since I couldn’t,” you start, your cadence gentle. You handpick each word with great care. “Does this mean that, personally, you agreed with him?” 

His countenance is like that of a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar. This look doesn’t overstay its welcome. Once he assesses you, from your open posture to your soft stare, he’s back to his usual self. 

“Busted, huh? And here I thought you’d be too groggy to pick up on anything incriminating.”

“A corrupt official such as myself must remain vigilant,” you reply with a cheeky grin. Then, you reorient yourself to communicate what’s been gnawing at you properly. “There’s a lot I don’t know about these ‘higher-ups’ or ‘Zenins,’ that you keep referring to. What little I do know doesn’t paint them in a favorable light. For all I know, they could be irredeemable in every sense of the word. But…”

“... Even though this is a selfish wish, I’m making it anyway. Say they do have to go. That it’s 100% certain they’re just that bad. I don’t want you or Satoru to be the ones to carry it out. Intentionally killing someone… could there be anything worse than that? Doesn’t a part of yourself die with them?”

A lump grows in your throat. You force it down. 

“So, thank you for stopping him and yourself. Sorcerers are meant to fight curses, right? Protect those who can’t protect themselves. That sort of stuff.”

Suguru squeezes your hand gently, as if you were made of porcelain. 

It stops you from shattering. 

After a few minutes, your erratic breathing settles. He whispers your name like he’s making a promise.

“You’re right,” he says, a newfound resolve built into the very fabric of those two words. “Protecting the weak is what matters most. Tossing everything into disarray would threaten that. It’s easier to fix what’s broken than to demolish and rebuild from scratch.” 

… Is that what you meant? 

Exhaustion clouds your senses. You must’ve burnt through your scarce reserves of energy. You can vaguely discern Suguru running the pad of his thumb over your hand, before detaching himself. He readjusts your pillow so it supports your head better. After murmuring your gratitude, you sink into sleep’s warm embrace. 

Right as you’re traipsing the fine line between wakefulness and the unconscious, there’s a light sensation of something brushing your hair back. 

This unknown doesn’t inspire fear or outrage. 

Instead, it lulls you further into the recesses of peace. 

-

You’re discharged from the hospital later that day. 

An auxiliary manager from Tokyo Jujutsu High drives you back. You spend the car ride staring out the passenger side window, taking in the bustle of busy citizens and dazzling lights. It never fails to amaze you how people wordlessly maneuver around each other to maintain the flow of traffic. It’s a tempo that can’t be instructed, rather, one must adapt in real time without a conductor.  

Can non-sorcerers truly be considered weak? 

The description torments you as if it were a thorn in your side. 

Your fingers drum over the dashboard.

What does it mean to be strong, anyway? 

-

The next time you activate your cursed technique, you can summon and maintain four rings without sacrificing sharpness or speed. 

For the past few days, you’ve been playing around with different formations. Four rings orbiting your body provide considerable defense from projectiles and close combat. Then, if you let two out, you gain the means to attack. Lastly, ditching defense to pour everything into offense is a viable option as well. Your biggest obstacle is how mentally taxing it is to track and manipulate four rings at once.

It requires great concentration. This isn’t an issue if you’re alone, but you doubt that curses will play nice and let you stand perfectly still. 

You flip your My Melody notebook to the next page and scribble down, 

Two rings uptime — twelve hours.Four rings uptime — one hour. Four rings uptime w/ distractions — ten minutes. Maximum distance — one hundred meters. Maximum rings at once — sixty. Uptime on maximum rings — five seconds.

Thinking back to The Caretaker, you twist your lips.

If you’d been sent on that mission by yourself, would this have been enough to win the fight? You’re alive because you were with Satoru and Suguru. There’s no denying the infallible truth. You can’t always rely on reports to accurately grade a curse. There’s also the chance once certain conditions are met, the curse can gain strength throughout the fight, and—

“Cute handwriting.” 

“Eek!” 

Hugging your notebook to your chest, you jump back, indignation rushing through you like molten magma. Who snuck up on you? How did they do it? You can ascertain the presence of others in your vicinity well. You know when Shoko’s sneaking out through her window at night, if Suguru’s about to enter the room, or when Utahime is seconds away from busting into the classroom to lecture Satoru about levitating her lunch onto the roof again.

Squinting, you assess the assailant. Pearly white hair, round sunglasses, a lean and towering figure… 

“Satoru? You’re back?” 

According to Shoko, Satoru was called to Kyoto for business relating to the Big Three not long after they returned from the hospital. It’d been two weeks since then. You’ve gotten so used to having him around, that his absence felt pronounced. Shoko mainly lamented that her ‘walking free meal ticket’ was gone whereas Utahime rejoiced. You’ve never seen your upperclassman so ecstatic. 

Her hopes and dreams will be dashed come morning. 

“Just got in, yeah. Why? Oh! I know! You must’ve missed me terribly. Here, here. It’s alright. C’mere and tell me all about it— oof!” 

There is a barrier that separates Satoru from everyone and everything. 

‘Infinity,’ he calls it. The ability to slow down encroaching mass to such a degree that it appears as if it stopped. He can keep it activated for long lengths of time. One day, he intends to reach a level where he’ll never have to turn it off. Anyone else who proposed a goal like that would either be conceited or delusional. The amount of cursed energy necessary to pull that off is immeasurable. 

Satoru isn’t just anyone, though. 

So when he sets an impossible goal, it enters the realm of feasibility. 

His infinity is active once you leap toward him, lasting up until the very last millisecond. When you breach the threshold that denies access to anyone else, it recedes, rushing away to accommodate your presence. Infinity remains present, molding itself around your shape. The top of your head, the slope of your shoulders, down to your soles; for a fleeting moment in time, infinity chooses you over Satoru’s parameters.  

Your cheek hits his chest. He has to steady you so you don’t go tumbling back. While he does this, you snake your arms around him, squeezing him tight. In doing so, yet another anomaly occurs. 

You’ve rendered Gojo Satoru speechless. 

When you pull back, you notice his sunglasses are crooked. You straighten them out for him and nod in approval. Smiling ear to ear, you chirp, 

“Welcome home, Satoru!” 

He scratches the back of his neck, uncharacteristically quiet. 

“... Isn’t this a school, though?” He finally manages to get out. 

“Pfft, I didn’t think you were the type to get hung up on details like that,” you laugh. “Home’s anywhere you want it to be. For me, that’s here.” 

You gesture to the surrounding area. Tall trees sway per the wind’s wishes, their green leaves painted blue and silver by the night sky. The moon overhead serves as your silent witness. No matter where you are, it will find and pursue you to the ends of the earth. Crickets chirp, cicadas buzz, and frogs croak by ponds rippling with their young. The night air is damp, but the coolness granted by the sun’s absence makes it tolerable. 

“Honestly, I don’t know what to make of you sometimes,” Satoru tries painting a veneer of nonchalance over his words, but you can see through the cracks. You’re getting better at doing that.  “Suguru said you were as peppy as ever; I didn’t believe him. They checked for brain damage, right? How many fingers am I holding up?” 

(He holds up two). 

“Ten,” you reply without missing a beat. 

“Funny girl.” 

“I learned from the best.” 

You both silently size one another up. Or, in Satoru’s case, down, because he’s freakishly tall. You’re the first to break the supposed standoff. Laughter rings through the air, just yours at first, but it’s soon joined by his. The two of you stand in the middle of a forest at midnight cackling like a bunch of witches before a sabbath. 

You feel absurd and giddy in a way that only comes from being around Satoru.

Some point after the laughter dies off, you can feel Satoru’s eyes scanning over every dip and curve of your being. 

After reaching some conclusion, his shoulders droop. The dopey grin on his face shifts into something more neutral, more reserved. His hands find their way into his pockets. He kicks a pebble into the woods, and you both listen to it tumbling downhill until the sound fades away. The thickets shift from wildlife’s constant antics, accommodating what little fauna lives inside Tengen’s barrier. 

“I’m not going to take back what I said, because I meant it,” Satoru asserts. He doesn’t have to elaborate — you know what he’s referring to. “Had you… had that mission gone as they intended, I wouldn’t have hesitated.” 

An owl hoots on a distant tree branch. 

Chills nibble all over your skin like little bug bites. You hug yourself to stave the sensation off. 

“Even if you knew that isn’t what I’d want?”

“Even then.” 

“So, you’re admitting it’d be for your sake?” 

“Most things are.”

“I don’t buy that,” you frown. “You’re kinder than you realize.”

His eyebrows pinch together and his rosy lips part. It takes him a moment to dislodge the words stuck in his throat.

“... Not many people would agree,” he smiles thinly.  

“Fine, just me then, since that’s easier to prove,” you hold up a single finger and raise another for each subsequent point. “One, you always leave my favorite coffee cans where you know I’ll find them. Two, whenever we’re facing a curse, you step in front to guard me. Three, if I look all sad and homesick, you make stupid jokes to take my mind off things. And four, there’s what happened in Kaizu. You—” 

“I told you to use a technique you weren’t ready for.” 

You blink. 

He tucks his sunglasses away, removing yet another barrier. His crystalline eyes shimmer beneath the moon’s glow. 

“How much do you know about your mentor’s history?” 

Ah, yes, your mentor — Ishimoto Akane. 

She stands at 5’8, boasts piercing green eyes, short, tousled black hair, and a tattoo of a thorny rose that envelops her entire left arm. When it came to reading the room, no one could fail as spectacularly as her. She never minced words, found basic tasks boring, and doted over her iguana named Wormwood like he was the second coming of Christ. When she wasn’t pampering Wormwood, she could be found in her very disorganized garage, tinkering with cars or motorcycles. Her neighbors filed numerous sound complaints thanks to her speakers blasting disco at unholy hours. Somehow, she never got caught. 

For lack of a better word, your jujutsu mentor is eccentric. 

Most notably, she saved you and your parent’s lives from a curse when you were six. You’ve been joined by the hip ever since. 

As for her history…

“Um, well, I know that she’s from Omachi. She moved out of Japan in her late teens because ‘jujutsu sorcerers are an absolute drag,’ or something like that.”

“That’s a start,” Gojo hums. “Let me fill in the blanks. The Ishimoto family goes back a ways. They might not be as influential as the Big Three, but their connections are nothing to scoff at. They’re like little leeches, sustaining themselves off others. Arranged marriages are their whole thing. Akane was set to marry some third son of a Zenin bigwig. She dipped on the day of the wedding.” 

That sounds like your mentor alright. 

“Personally, I find that hilarious. Her family and the Zenins aren’t of the same opinion. They essentially disowned her. Anyway! Fast forward a few years. Rumors spread that the infamous Akane is popping up in Tokyo every now and then, with some kid by her side. Ring any bells?” 

You point to yourself and he nods. 

She took you on training trips under the guise of an ‘exchange student program’ in the summer, which your parents considered to be an excellent opportunity. You felt bad for deceiving them, but explaining the whole ‘fighting invisible monster things with emotion magic’ would’ve made for a rough conversation. 

“It wasn’t until a couple of months back that I ran into her. I came right out and asked what I’d been curious about — why did she come back? She just shrugged and said she was done being a teacher. That answer didn’t satisfy me. She’s stubborn, I’ll give her that. I’m far worse though,” he boasts, fully looking and sounding the part. “In return for picking up her tab at an izakaya, she fessed up the truth.”

He steeples his fingers together, pantomiming a hand motion you’re intimately familiar with.

“Cursed Technique: Null, the advanced application of Ophanim. Akane’s convinced an ability like that, at its full potential, would be crazy strong.” 

She never said anything like that to me, you think.

You shake your head. This isn’t the most pressing matter now. 

“Satoru, what are you getting at here?” 

“That you shouldn’t think I’m kind. I wanted to judge your technique’s potential for myself, so I had you take on more than you could handle.” 

“You wouldn’t have let me die, though.” 

He chuckles mirthlessly. “And what a hero I am for that.” 

You purse your lips. You’ve never seen Satoru be this hard on himself. His cadence is the same — lighthearted, easygoing — but there’s an underlying acrimony to it. His smile doesn’t reach his brilliant eyes. He comes across as a spirit mimicking another’s likeness. This should unnerve you, maybe it will upon further reflection. 

Right now, however, you just want him to get across that you aren’t upset. What’s done is done. 

“It’s—” 

Satoru puts a hand up, stopping you prematurely. “Oh no you don’t. Don’t forgive me, not yet, anyway. You need to get better at looking out for yourself. You’re nice to a fault.” 

You glare at him halfheartedly. “What’s so wrong with being nice?” 

“Living in a world like this, where there are people like me.” 

“A world full of Gojo Satoru’s… that is a terrifying thought,” you murmur. His lips twitch upward, but he catches himself. “Bleh, what is it with you people and rejecting basic human decency! Akane was the same way. I’m fed up with it!” 

You storm toward him, your eyes narrow and jaw set tight. 

“I’m going to be who I want to be and that’s that. Maybe I’m naïve—” 

“—Oh, it isn’t a maybe, you definitely are—” 

You hush him by placing your finger to his lips, much to his surprise, if his wide eyes are of any indication. 

“—But you don’t get to tell me how to act or think or feel. That’s my business. I forgive you, alright? Now cut it out with the brooding. Let’s be real here. Doing that’s for you, not for me.” 

There’s an intensity to his stare you’ve never experienced prior. It makes your head feel light and hazy. Remembering yourself, you pull your hand back, heat rushing to your face. You may have gotten carried away. He isn’t wrong about you exercising more vigilance, but something about him critiquing a core aspect of your identity stings. The description ‘oversensitive’ can join the same limbo your ‘nice to a fault’ and ‘naïve’ proclivities hang out in. 

Finding your current predicament too overwhelming, you break eye contact. 

“Alright, alright, I get it, quit scowling. Remind me never to piss you off again, it’s scary,” he sounds more like himself, much to your relief. “I thought of a happy medium, just for you.” 

Satoru compromising? Did you die during that fight after all? You never thought you’d see the day. Shoko isn’t going to believe you. 

“And that happy medium is…?” 

His dumb grin makes a triumphant return. He knows he’s got your attention, no matter how cool you try to play it. 

“Keep being your sweet little self. If anyone tries taking advantage of that quality, and I mean anyone, come tell Suguru or myself. We’ll take care of it.” 

What is he, a member of the mob?! 

Whatever, it’s a step in the right direction. You think. Maybe. 

“I’m not a snitch,” you huff. 

“Fine, I’ll use my own discretion then.” 

“You’re impossible.” 

“And you’re gonna have to get used to it.” 

You quirk an eyebrow. “How do you figure?” 

“Call it intuition,” he hums, smoothly sliding his sunglasses back into place. It makes you angry how cool he looks while doing so. “Or, better yet, love at first sight. Yeah. Let’s go with that, actually.” 

Wait, what? 

Your heart thunders against your ribcage and you gape at him like a fish. 

“You…! Y-You can’t just say something like that!” 

“But I did.” 

“Ugh, I’ve had enough. I’m headed to bed. Go find somebody else to mess with.” 

Satoru pauses, considering the words you’ve spoken without any real bite. Then he smiles. Not in the cocky, arrogant manner he’s infamous for either. The curvature is gentle. Almost sentimental. It takes you aback and makes you wonder if your eyes are malfunctioning. 

“I can’t,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “It has to be you.” 

It has to be you, it has to be you, it has to be you… 

These five damning words loop in your head like a mantra. Who gave him the right to sound so sincere? 

“Sleep well. You get all grumpy if you don’t. Having one Utahime around is more than enough, I don’t need you getting on my case too.” 

Satoru turns around, pulling one hand out from his pocket to wave halfheartedly. You observe his retreating figure before snapping out of your daze. He drops a cryptic line like that and dares to casually waltz away, whistling while he does so! The nerve! The audacity! The whistling is off-pitch too! Jujutsu Tech seriously needs to consider adding music theory to the curriculum. 

You jog to catch up with him and his stupidly long legs. 

“Hey, Satoru!” You call out. 

He stops and looks at you from over his shoulder. 

“If you’re gonna watch out for me, I plan to return the favor,” you say, your tone leaving no room to argue. “You hear me?” 

He waits until he’s facing forward again to respond. For this reason, you can’t see his expression. All you can make out is the outline of him giving a thumbs up, the edges of his skin swathed in silvery moonlight. 

“Mhm. Loud and clear.”  

-

December 23rd, 2017. 

8:02 p.m. 

-

You assess the man in front of you.

Pearly white hair, bandages wrapped around his eyes, a lean and towering figure… it’s Satoru, alright. There’s no mistaking his remarkable cursed energy. You could sense it — sense him — even in your deepest sleep. Amongst those at Jujutsu Tech, you’re the only one who can tell when he’s about to warp out of thin air. It’s become a running joke of sorts. Gojo Satoru has the Six Eyes and you possess a sixth sense for him. 

Or so you thought. 

“Are you hearing yourself?” 

He sighs and runs his hand through his hair. “Loud and clear, yeah.” 

“This isn’t funny, Satoru!” 

“I’m not laughing, am I?” 

“No, but,” you inhale shakily, wisely taking a second to tame your tongue. “You’re not taking this seriously— not taking me seriously.”

He frowns. You come close to regretting your words, falling just a few inches short. Arguments aren’t your forte. Determining when to surrender ground, bolster your defenses, or charge into enemy territory; this is a skill that requires practice. Especially when facing Satoru. You don’t want to consider him an opponent, but that’s what he feels like right now. An imposing wall blocking you from the road you have to take. 

You regret turning up the duplex’s heat. Chilly as it is outside in the throes of winter, the air in this room has become scorching. 

“Is that genuinely what you think?” 

And there it is. He already knows the answer, as do you. He simply wants you to have your confession on record. 

You grab the water bottle you left on the kitchen countertop, drinking enough to help ease the lump in your throat. This isn’t the time to cry. Not yet. Not before anything major occurs. The crisis hasn’t taken the stage, Christmas Eve holds that honor. Illogical as it may be, you don’t think you’ve earned the emotional release crying brings. That should remain a consolation prize to you in the future. 

The you who will witness the horrors Geto Suguru plans to orchestrate. 

The you who will learn how this decade-long saga ends. 

Can the human heart endure anguish worse than this?  

Tomorrow, this question will receive an answer, whether you want it or not. 

“... It isn’t.” 

“Good,” he says, somehow soft and firm. He opens up his arms. “C’mere.” 

You’re sinking into him before he finishes the word. He secures you against his chest and the two of you tangle together like you’d unravel should you part. Satoru rests his chin on the crown of your head, mindlessly tracing patterns into your back. Or so you think, until you recognize the distinct grooves and curves of the characters which form Gojo. 

He engraves it into you over and over again as if casting a spell. 

This action must soothe him. You count each thump of his heart, noting how it settles into a steadier rhythm as the seconds tick by. The world’s strongest sorcerer is made of flesh and blood just like you are. It’s easy to forget that those you love and admire are mortal, regardless of how well they hide it. Those close to godhood must act the part, lest their audience murmur in suspicion. 

“I don’t think I could do it, Toru.” 

He doesn’t need to ask what you mean. 

“Intentionally killing someone… could there be anything worse than that?” 

No, you desperately scream to your younger self, as if there were any way to make her hear you. There really isn’t. 

“I know.” 

“... Could you?” 

Satoru’s muscles stiffen. From this alone, you can glean his answer. From your lack of prodding, he must piece this together too. Talkative as you both are, it’s in these pockets of total silence that your communication shines best. Everything from the subtle hitching of breath to the twitch of one another’s lips reveals streams of information to sift through. 

You can tell he doesn’t want to let you go, but you manage to wriggle out of his vice-like grip, creating a few inches of distance.

Reaching up, you undo the bandages around his eyes. He leans down to aid you in your task. Once the last strip comes off, you fold the linen neatly and put it aside. Satoru’s pretty eyes follow your every movement. When your attention returns to him, it’s impossible to overlook how hard he’s straining to fight back a smile. 

He quickly abandons the farce. 

Large hands seek out yours. Subconsciously, you meet him halfway, automatically drawn to him as if you were both different ends of a magnet. His slender fingers interlace with yours. His countenance radiates such fondness, such unfiltered reverence, that you find yourself getting embarrassed.

“W-What?” You choke out. 

“Just thinking about how I’m the luckiest guy alive, is all,” he hums. His grin widens at how his unabashed compliments fluster you. Shame isn’t in his lexicon. “You went from looking like you wanted to bite my head off to doting on me.” 

You roll your eyes yet chuckle nonetheless. He visibly perks up at the sound. He must’ve made you laugh thousands of times over the years, but he still treats each instance as if he’d experienced the most delightful composition. 

He whispers your name. 

“You trust me, right?” 

“Of course.” 

“Then do this for me, baby.” 

“But…” you trail off, unable and perhaps unwilling to reinforce your argument, “Everyone is going to be risking their lives. Nanamin, Ijichi, ours and Iori’s students; even Shoko’s going out on the field. How am I supposed to sit still knowing that?” 

“You don’t have to sit still, my little energizer bunny.” 

The deadpan look he receives has him (wisely) reconsidering his word choice. 

“I’m not asking because I don’t trust you, I’m asking because there’s no one I trust more,” Satoru tries again. You bite your lower lip. It’s unfair how much his rare glimpses of sincerity move you. 

“And this is all based on a hunch?” 

“Mhm.” 

Satoru lifts your left hand. He caresses your skin, his smile softening into something tender. An expression that’s exclusively for you. 

“Historically, my hunches are rather reliable.”

You can’t argue with the truth. 

Suguru appears to have some unknown design for Okkotsu Yuta, who is to remain at Jujutsu Tech during the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons. The special-grade curse Orimoto Rika poses too many risks for him to be on the battlefield alongside allies. Since everyone down to the Ainu society is being called upon to deal with this threat, you’ve been awaiting your assignment. There’s no way they wouldn’t utilize every resource available. 

Satoru ruined this assumption.

He personally requested that you remain on standby at the school. 

He didn’t even tell you this himself. You found out from Maki of all people, who earlier asked why you were stuck ‘babysitting the exchange student.’ You were confused. This made her confused. Then you both remembered the menace that is Gojo Satoru and everything started adding up. 

His explanation upon answering the phone? 

“Oh, I was just getting around to telling you about that!” 

Needless to say, you didn’t share his enthusiasm. 

“Alright,” you sigh. “I’ll keep an eye on Yuta until everything is finished.” 

Content, he squeezes your hand. As he does so, the gemstone on your ring finger catches the light, mesmerizing you both.

You close your eyes and smile. 

‘Call it intuition,’ huh?

[palmettoshenanigans]

also ALSO-

I know the old "AFTG is badly written" jokes but hold the FUCK on for one goddamn second

I have been writing for almost 20 years. I got my college degree in English and the only reason my specialization wasn't creative writing is because I had bad time management skills and missed my chance to do my final creative writing workshop. I'm autistic and Storycrafting and Wordsmithing are my special interests. I understand writing pretty well.

AFTG opened my fucking eyes to a blind spot of the utter craftsmanship of writing sticky characters that infect you with brain worms, and here it is:

The Conflict of Material and Form

AKA the Character Creation version of Nature versus Nurture

"This isn't who I truly am. This is who I've had to become, what I've had to fashion myself into to survive. The original me is buried in there somewhere, if only you knew how to look. If only you knew to look beyond the mask."

Easily exemplified with our fave lil guys-

Neil Abram Josten:

Material: smartass with a smart mouth, attitude problem, cares about people deeply, sharp tongue to cut a bitch with, kinda feral, a lil unhinged, oblivious idiot

Form: quiet and hidden, liar liar pants of fire, run rabbit run, docile and tame, hyper-vigilant and hyper-observant

Andrew Joseph Minyard:

Material: caring, protective, strong sense of justice, gentle even, cares deeply, give me sugar or give me death, yearning

Form: cold, apathetic, ruthless and unforgiving, allow me to introduce you to my knife, regret? don't know her, i want nothing nothing nothing

Why am I using 'material and form' instead of 'nature and nurture'? Because I am a subscriber to "Characters are not meant to be real people; they are mirages of real people meant to encapsulate a function or idea that serves the story". But use whatever terms click with your noggin.

This isn't about 'want vs need'. This isn't about 'lie believed and truth learned'. This is about Presentation and Basic Action - how would this character react here? Which part are they reacting from?

With Material vs. Form, one isn't the 'true' version and the other the 'false' version of the character. They are both true and real in their own right. The Secret Sauce is that the Material and the Form fight 1v1! And regardless of which part wins, there will be consequences and rewards; so which rewards do we want and which consequences are we willing to suffer? And this fight happens beat by beat, scene by scene, plot point by plot point.

At one point in TFC Neil laments his inability to shut his fucking mouth because his Form of 'don't stand out dipshit' and his Material of 'initiate smartass.exe' are disagreeing with how to respond to his circumstances! It's that fucking meme "My healed and unhealed versions of myself deciding who is going to handle this situation" but as Storycraft!

Now, I don't think this is a new idea by any means. But sometimes to make the essence of an idea truly stick, it must be presented in multiple different ways until one triggers a "Eureka! By Jove! Aha!", and this was the way that truly made this concept stick for me. And why did it stick? Because AFTG is a labor of deep love and passion for Characters and all their complexity and inner machinations, and that depth of devotion had to manifest as some good ass writing somehow my homies in christ.

I have a collection of my favorite Storycrafting Wisdoms and one of them is effectively:

"Put Compelling Characters into a Compelling Situation and see what happens."

And Nora does Compelling Characters beautifully

[janeyseymour]

Love Thy Neighbor again because I can't get over it. Mel introduces reader and Ellie to her family, the reader is a nervous mess and Mels Grandma and Ellie become besties with Ellie proudly stating that she's an honorary schemmenti and making Mel start to think about making reader a official schemmenti 💜

I got you, but know that this has spawned a new little mini-series within this verse

Love Thy Neighbor, Two Families Become One- pt 1

You honestly don’t really know how you’ve made it this far without meeting Melissa’s side of the family. She’s met your parents, and they absolutely adore her. You remember how that meeting went- Melissa was an absolute nervous wreck, and Ellie couldn’t understand why for the life of her.

“Mel,” your little girl had rolled her eyes playfully at the redhead as she twirled around in her dress. “You’re bein’ silly. It’s just Grandma and Grandpa.”

“Just nervous,” Melissa told your daughter. “I want them to like me.”

“They will,” Ellie promised your girlfriend. “Because Momma loves you, and I love you, and that’s all that care about.”

The redhead looked at your daughter with soft warm eyes. “Thanks, El. But I still have to do my best to impress.”

The three of you made your way across town to your parents house, and as you climbed out of the car, Ellie attached herself to Melissa.

“Up, please,” the little girl asked quietly as she raises her arms up.

Of course, the second grade teacher immediately obliged your daughter’s request before taking a deep breath and walking up with you to the front door.

“It’s okay,” Ellie squeezed Melissa just the slightest bit tighter and pressed a kiss to her cheek in hopes of calming the woman’s nerves.

The redhead just gave a tight, nervous smile before turning her attention to the door that had just whipped open to reveal both of your parents.

Your parents engulfed you in hugs, acting as if they hadn’t seen you in forever when it had really only been a few weeks.

“And this must be Melissa,” your father looked your girlfriend up and down with a stone face.

“I am,” the redhead smiled nervously. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Your dad stuck out his hand and shakes your girlfriend’s sternly.

“Pop, stop trying to scare Mel!” Ellie giggled. She whispered in Melissa’s ear conspiratorially, “Pop is like a teddy bear, he’s tryin’ really hard to be scary.”

That got your father to break out into a grin as he reached for your little girl’s belly to tickle. “Ellie! You can’t give me up that easily! The name’s Frank, and the ol’ lady next to me is-”

“Frank!” your mother batted at your father playfully before smiling to your girlfriend. “Rita,” your mother introduced herself. “Don’t listen to a word that man says. Ellie is right, he’s just a big teddy bear.”

“Play nice, Dad,” you rolled your eyes as you stepped into the house that you had grown up in. “Is dinner ready? I’m starving.”

“Some things never change with you, kid,” you father chuckled. “It’s on the table and ready.

Dinner with your family was pleasant. Ellie made sure to highlight just about every wonderful thing there was to say about Melissa and state just how much she adored your girlfriend.

“Pop! Did you know that Mel teaches with Momma? Did you know that Mel pushes me on the swings and takes videos of me when I go down the slide?! She’s just the best,” Ellie gushed.

  And by the end of the night, Melissa had gotten the stamp of approval from both of your parents. 

“See?” Ellie exasperates as Melissa buckles her into the carseat to head back to your apartment complex. “I told you there wasn’t anything to worry about.”

“I think you were a big help,” your girlfriend chuckled. “Thank you, little girl.”

“Gram and Pop would be…” she lowers her voice. “Stupid… if they didn’t like you.”

“Elizabeth,” you raise a brow as you turn in your seat to look at her.

Your daughter just shrugs. “I’m just bein’ honest, Momma.”

You chuckle. “Okay, little girl.”

But now that you were going to meet Melissa’s family, take those nerves that Melissa had felt previously, and multiply it by ten.

You’re in the middle of putting your face on in the bathroom when Melissa comes in.

“My love,” she sighs as she wraps her arms around your waist and kisses your cheek. “You don’t need to wear makeup.”

“I know, I know,” you mumble. “But I don’t want to show up looking like a slob.”

The redhead rolls her green eyes. “Babe, you’re beautiful no matter what, and my mom and Nonna are going to love you.”

“And what if they don’t?” you ask as you continue to apply your eyeshadow. 

Melissa looks at you like you just asked her the dumbest question on the planet. “There’s not a chance in hell they aren’t going to love you, and Nonna is going to absolutely adore El.”

“What about me?!” Ellie pops her head into the room. She then sees that you have your makeup out. “Ooh! Sparkles!”

“El, tell your momma she doesn’t need makeup to look beautiful.”

“Mom is right, Momma,” your daughter tells you seriously as she perches herself on the sink. “Why are you putting makeups on anyway? You only wear makeups when it’s a special occasion.”

“It is a special occasion,” you say softly. “We’re meeting Mel’s mom and grandma, and I want to make a good impression.”

Ellie’s lips into a little ‘O’. “Can I wear makeups to make a good impression too?”

That makes you pause, and you chuckle softly. “Pick one eyeshadow, and I’ll put it on for you.”

She squeals with delight as she looks at your palette. She ends up deciding on a very neutral but sparkly shade, and you gently put it on her eyelids. As soon as it’s on, your little girl is leaning in to look at herself in the mirror and giggling.

“Do I look good, Mom?”

“You look beautiful as always,” Melissa leans over and kisses Ellie’s cheek. She then pecks yours. “Just like you do.”

“What time do we have to be there?”

“We have to leave in thirty minutes,” your girlfriend tells you. “And I’ll make sure we have Ellie’s stuff in the car for her so you don’t have one more thing to worry about.”

“Thank you,” you sigh softly. “I should be ready within the next twenty minutes.”

“C’mon, El,” Melissa smiles down at the little girl. “Let’s let your Momma get ready while we get your stuff ready for the car.”

You manage to get yourself together before the promised twenty minutes, and you enter the living room the to sight of your girlfriend and your daughter lounging on the couch together.

“Hey,” you get their attention, and Melissa’s jaw drops just slightly. “What?”

Her eyes sparkle with love for you. “You look… stunning.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you laugh softly as you run a hand through your loosely curled hair. “I look like I do everyday we go to school.”

“And?” your girlfriend asks as she stands from her place on the couch. “You look gorgeous there too, and you should know it- I only tell you everyday.”

“You look really pretty, Momma,” Ellie smiles at you as she hands you your purse.

You look down at your little girl as you ruffle her hair. “How much did Mom pay you to say that?”

“Nothin’!” your little girl gives you a cheeky smile.

“Are you ready?” the redhead asks you softly. 

You take a deep breath. “As ready as I’m ever going to be,” you tell her.

The entire drive over to the Schemmenti household, Melissa’s hand rests gently on your thigh to provide warmth and comfort. She’s pulling in far too soon.

“We’re here,” she tells you gently. “But we’ll go in when you’re ready.”

You nod. “I’m ready.”

Melissa holds Ellie’s hand as the three of you make your way up to the front door, and you’re greeting with a woman that can only be Nonna.

“Nonna!” your girlfriend confirms as she embraces the shorter woman.

“There’s my Melissa Ann,” Nonna smiles. “Looking beautiful as ever.”

The redhead is nearly a spitting image of the woman in front of you, and when her mother comes to the door, it’s like there’s three generations of your girlfriend.

“Nonna, Mom,” Melissa smiles brightly. “This is my girlfriend, Y/N and her daughter, Ellie.”

You smile shyly and give a wave before tucking a hair behind your ear. “It’s a pleasure.”

“Hi!” your little girl squeaks with a smile. “I’m Ellie, and I’m seven.”

“Oh, aren’t you a cute little thing,” Melissa’s grandmother coos as she pinches your daughter’s cheek gently. “It’s nice to meet you, Ellie. You can call me Nonna.” She stands up straight to look at you. “The pleasure is all mine… Our Lissa has talked a lot about you- can’t believe it’s taken you this long to make it over for dinner!”

“We’re glad to be here,” you smile as you stick out a hand for her to shake. Then you face her mother. “Thank you for inviting us over.”

“We’ve been telling Lissa to bring you over for months now,” her mother chuckles. “Annette.”

“It’s very nice to meet you Annette,” you smile as you shake her hand too.

“Well, come in, come in,” both women say at once. 

“Dinner is almost ready, but there are some snacks out in the meantime, and can I get any of you anything to drink?” Annette asks.

“Wine for me and Y/N,” Melissa answers as she makes her way into the kitchen. “And El, what do you want?”

Your little girl looks up at your girlfriend and shrugs.

“We made sure we were stocked up for you,” Nonna chuckles. “Lemonade, apple juice, grape juice, orange juice, water… you name it, kiddo.”

“Can I have lemonade, Mom?” Ellie asks quietly. “Please?”

At the term your little girl uses, you stay quiet. 

“Sure thing, El,” Melissa smiles softly as she lifts Ellie to sit on the counter.

Nonna and Annette both raise eyebrows in shock, and it mirrors the same face that your girlfriend makes when she’s surprised.

“Mom?” Nonna asks gently. “Lissa, is there something you aren’t telling us?”

The redhead rolls her eyes playfully. “She started calling me Mom, and if she’s comfortable with it, I’m more than happy to be Mom.”

Ellie grins and leans over to kiss Melissa’s cheek while Annette pours a lemonade and Nonna pours the wine.

“Can I help with anything?” you offer.

“Oh, aren’t you sweet?” Annette smiles as she hands you your wine. “No, Nonna has it handled.”

“Can I help?” Ellie chirps from her place on the counter. “Mom and Momma let me help with dinner all the time, and I love it!”

Nonna grins. “Oh, I could definitely use the help from you, little one. The rest of you, out of my kitchen!”

Melissa chuckles as she presses a kiss to your daughter’s head and pulls you to the living room couch. “I knew her and Nonna would get along like two peas in a pod.”

“Yeah?” you ask softly.

“Nonna loves the little ones, and Ellie is the best little girl out there,” Melissa shrugs as she kisses your temple.

“So…” Annette looks at the two of you.

You and your girlfriend spend the time that dinner is being prepared chatting with Melissa’s mother about everything under the sun. Occasionally, you hear Ellie squeal with joy. It brings a happiness to your heart- knowing that your daughter is making a connection with one of your girlfriend’s favorite people. 

“Momma! Mom!” Ellie comes bouncing in with the biggest smile on her face. “Dinner’s ready!”

You, Melissa, and her mother all stand from your place on the couch and head for the dining room. There’s a beautiful display on the table.

“Nonna teached me how to set a table properly!” your little girl absolutely beams.

Nonna smiles a smile that matches Ellie’s energy.

Dinner is wonderful, and you absolutely insist on helping clean up and help to set out dessert with Melissa and Ellie while Annette and Nonna sit back and sip their wine.

“So, what do you think?” Nonna asks.

Annette smiles. “Lissa did good with this one. She’s better than Joe.”

“Her little girl is the cutest little thing,” Nonna notes softly. “If her manners and sweetness are anything to go by, Lissa may have found her person.”

“So?” Melissa asks you quietly.

“Your mom is so sweet,” you tell her genuinely.

Ellie grins. “Nonna is my most favorite person! She teached me to fold the napkins, and that the sharp side of the knife should always face the plate when you set the table.”

The smile that washes over your girlfriend’s face is gorgeous. You peck her lips gently as you finish washing the last of the dishes.

After dessert, you find yourself with another glass of wine while you lounge on the couch and chat with your girlfriend’s family. Ellie curls up in Melissa’s lap, happy to drink her lemonade and cuddle. You can tell though as the night goes on that your daughter is getting sleepy, and it’s clear that Melissa can too.

“Is Ellie girl gettin’ tired?” the redhead asks as she kisses Ellie’s head and takes the cup out of her hand.

Your little girl nods against Melissa’s chest as she rubs at her eyes. The two of you glance at the clock- it is getting to be the time where Ellie starts to wind down for the night.

“I guess we should probably start heading out for the night,” your girlfriend tells her family. “But we’ll have to get together again soon… maybe you can come over to our apartment for dinner one night.”

“That would be lovely,” Nonna smiles. “I’d love to get to see Ellie again- you know, she reminds me of you a little.”

“Really?”

“Full of life, eager to help,” the eldest woman smiles. “She’s a little honorary Schemmenti.”

Ellie gives a sleepy smile that quickly turns into a yawn as she plays with the chains around Melissa’s neck. “Ellie Schemmenti,” she mumbles against your girlfriend’s chest.

If the kiss that’s pressed to Ellie’s temple is anything to go by, you would say that Melissa is quite happy with that little statement.

“Alright, Ma,” your girlfriend stands with Ellie in her arms. “Nonna. It’s time we head out and get the little one to bed, but thank you for having us.”

“Seriously,” you chime in softly. “Thank you so much. Dinner was wonderful.”

“Anytime, sweetheart,” Nonna and Annette tell you at the same time.

As you hug Melissa’s grandmother, she whispers in your ear, “Seriously, anytime. You’re family now.”

Nonna was never the best whisperer though, so Melissa hears the sweet words that are said. Her smile doesn’t leave her face the entire walk out to the car.

Once you get on the road, Melissa takes your hand in her own and brings it up to her lips. “I told you, there wasn’t anything to worry about. They’re both a lot like me… tough on the outside, softies on the inside.”

“I guess you were right this time,” you chuckle softly.

“When are you going to realize I’m always right?” your girlfriend teases you. “What did you think though, for real?”

“I see where you get a lot of your personality,” you tell her. “And I love you, so I love your family.”

“And my Nonna’s comment about Ellie being an honorary Schemmenti?” the redhead presses just slightly.

“The cutest thing in the world,” you sigh in content.

When Melissa pulls into the driveway, she expertly lifts Ellie out of her carseat and into her arms without waking her before taking her into the house. The two of you tuck her in together, and she only wakes up slightly when you press kisses to her face.

“Goodnight, Momma. Goodnight Mom. I love you,” Ellie mumbles out, still half asleep.

“We love you too, love bug,” you whisper as you brush away a few of the stray hairs. Melissa repeats the sentiment before you head off to prepare for bed yourself.

She’s in bed before you are, and when you slide in, she seems to be deep in thought. You curl into her arms.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“Just thinking about how lucky I am to have you,” she whispers as she kisses the nape of you neck.

“I think I’m the lucky one,” you sigh out softly, a bit breathily.

Your girlfriend shakes her head. “That would be me,” she tells you as she nips at you. “I don’t know how I managed to land a gorgeous and kind woman like you- the most amazing person I’ve ever met.”

You push away from her slightly. “I am loving these compliments, but honey, I’m too tired to have sex tonight.”

“That’s fine,” she tells you as she pulls you back into her arms and lets you lay your head on her chest. “Get some good sleep, hun.”

You fall asleep rather quickly, exhausted from the events of today, but Melissa lays awake as she replays her Nonna’s words in her head- that Ellie was an honorary Schemmenti, that you were part of the family now. And that gets her thinking… Should she forego the ‘honorary’ portion of your titles and officially make you Schemmentis? She falls asleep thinking about this.

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson

[comicaurora]

I watched Castlevania: Nocturne the otger day and liked it a lot less than you seemed to, so I want to hear a more detailed opinion if you have one. Am I in the wrong to think it was more shounen and less "deep" in some way?

I'd say it's definitely more shounen. Introducing the "Richter can't do magic because unresolved trauma" thing right from the jump meant a Believing In Yourself powerup was pretty much inevitable, but I liked the execution of that scene enough that I didn't mind much.

It doesn't quite have the backbone of the original Castlevania, which was grounded so strongly in Dracula's apocalyptic grief - a motivation the audience is directed to find deeply understandable from minute one - that it gave the characters a solid thematic core to play off of. This let the writing stay pretty tight by letting Trevor serve as a foiling mirror for Dracula in their mutual disgust with the failures of human kindness, Sypha for Lisa in their altruistic use of their knowledge and their vilification for "witchcraft", and Alucard in the middle torn between worlds.

Nocturne is more loose and character-driven, but it still has a core theme - the argument over "the natural order" and how that plays into a fear of change from those currently on top. However, Richter doesn't really have a horse in that race, since his motivation starts and ends at Kill Vampires while everyone around him is more complex, trying to overthrow the aristocracy and free the enslaved and such. I think this makes Richter feel a little less important than Trevor was, narratively, because he sort of stands apart from the core philosophical debate at play. It took me a few episodes to get what his deal was and start caring about his self-actualization, and I think he's definitely got further to go. Possibly Alucard's presence in season 2 will give him more to play off of.

I think Nocturne has several independently interesting villains instead of one really good villain, which is a complaint I also saw about Castlevania season 4 - I liked Death just fine, but he really didn't work for everyone, and the secondary villains like Saint Germaine were much more interesting and complex. Nocturne does, however, pull off something Castlevania didn't as much, which is most of the characters acting on their own internal consistent motivation without cleanly falling into the "good guy" or "bad guy" box, causing them to slide into and out of conflicts and alliances depending on the circumstances.

I feel like Bathory is kind of a weak core villain with almost no human-level motivations or ideas beyond General Villainy, and the extent of her development being a darkest hour shonen villain powerup/frieza transformation doesn't help much, which is why I'm kind of holding out hope that they just bite the bullet and bring back Dracula. He's the nemesis from the Castlevania games, and while they gave him and Lisa a happy ending in Castlevania season 4, I don't think they need to keep him on the bench forever. It's been 300 years, Lisa is almost certainly long dead again and Dracula doesn't need to be full Mad With Vengeance Burn Down The World to still be a credible problem in need of a little Belmonting.

I had fun with season 1 of Nocturne with the understanding that the first four-episode "season" of Castlevania wasn't representative of the final shape of the story either. Sypha's character, for instance, was very flat before she and the gang went on their season 2 bonding adventure, not much more than some banter and infodumps. I think Nocturne did solid setup of the cast and the theme they'll be unpacking, and it has lots of room to explore these characters in interesting ways once they energy-ball-tennis Bathory out of the way first.

[evilpenguinrika]

Okay so I had another thought about Descendants Rise of Red

Under read more cuz it's gotten a tad long. Also spoilers.

Throughout the movie, I legit thought that Uliyana was a red herring with the whole horrible prank on Bridget that made her turn from a sweet girl into a tyrannical leader because of what Ella said about it when QoH was staging the coup.

Like I DON"T KNOW to me it felt like they were setting up Ella as the person who actually did the prank (maybe against her will or was just part of a group that decided to do it and she just stayed quiet and went along with it despite not vibing with the prank at all).

And then we got introduced to Uliyana and her group and like they very clearly obviously had her set up as the one responsible (even though I was still under the impression that she was still a red herring and it was actually Ella)

But no

It... It was Uliyana

I felt like the writers had such a perfect opportunity to dive just a little deeper into the complexities of high school drama and high school cliques and teenagers. Because yeah, teenagers can be so incredibly cruel and so incredibly mean. And like, I kinda also assumed it was like your typical dumb love triangle bs with Bridget Ella and Charming as well and maybe that's why Ella did the prank idk. Like the two girls are interested in him but it's also a little more apparent that Charming is interested in Bridget and maybe Ella got jealous. And with how horrible her home life is, she just wanted something for herself for once and had a horrible lapse in judgment in playing a mean prank on Bridget.

And like if you think about it, how horrifying is it to discover your one and only friend stabbed you in the back and humiliated you for selfish reasonings (or maybe other reasonings) and that's how she became the QoH, which could tie back into that song about how love ain't it or whatever it was called, like it would further emphasize just why QoH is the way that she is and why she finds the notion of love and trusting humans/humanity so asinine because she had something horrible happen to her, a trust and betrayal, that has since hardened her heart.

Idk if this made any sense I'm just word vomiting at this point

like IDK THEY HAD A PERFECT SET UP. ULIYANA WAS LIKE A CLEAR RED HERRING (kinda like first movie with snatching of the wand and ppl thought it was Mal but nope it was Jane. See? Red herring. Kinda. Probably.) like it was an obvious choice but then the reveal that it wasn't Uliyana would have been juicy

Oh, I also wished they had more of a clear consequence of time travelling at the end. Like I was holding my breath the entire time anticipating some sort of time-travel consequence

But

There was none

Which makes no sense because when you time travel and change the timeline, there's gonna be consequences. It's sort of an important story beat to have (one example I can think of right now is the first Life is Strange game with Max's time travelling powers and how the more she uses her powers, the more fuckery shit happens where you either watch your best friend die to save an entire town or sacrifice an entire town to save your best friend). I wish they gave us something, because then it would definitely help set us up for the next movie since apparently people are saying Rise of Red is supposed to be a two parter? Or maybe not have it so blatantly obvious but still have something there to let us know "oh, something ain't right" (like I get QoH having that drastic change is already like its own thing, but idk give us more. I want more.)

ANYWAYS again, idk, just word vomiting don't mind me

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Do you think the Peacock Miraculous would be better if it had a better power. Before Season 2, I thought it would have some kind of "sight" like can see things from far away or never missing their target.

I think that the peacock would be so much better if it had a truly unique power. I'm incredibly biased about what it should be because of my own rewrite passion project, but I'll try to set that bias aside and just give you some general thoughts on the topic.

Here are some ways that a different power would drastically improve both the peacock and the overall narrative that the writers are going for, but failing to land.

Improvement One: Audience Sympathy

As-is, the peacock makes the Agrestes look unhinged and selfish. Even fans who love the later seasons think that Emilie was probably a terrible person in spite of the fact that canon clearly wants them to think otherwise. Changing the power to something else allows Emilie to be this better person by letting her use the peacock for less blatantly selfish reasons, making her fate less an instance of karma and more a true tragedy. This new power could still be something that ties back to Adrien, but it could also not. She could have just been a generally good person who liked helping people.

Improvement Two: Audience Investment

In terms of how the miraculous are used in a fight, the peacock and the butterfly are extremely similar and that's not very interesting story wise. I've found that stories with heavy magic use tend to be more interesting when you create limited powers and then force your characters to work within the confines of those powers. The less restrictive the rules, the less invested the audience is as they don't have any way to anticipate what's coming and anticipation is something you generally want your audience to feel.

Season five was a great example of this. I think that a lot of people were excited to see Miraculous pull a Cardcaptor Sakura by having our heroes hunt down each of the missing miraculous. That anticipation vanished with the arrival of the alliance rings. Suddenly our heroes had no idea what to do and the season quickly devolved into ignoring the missing miraculous in favor of shipping nonsense. Imagine how much more fun and engaging the season would have been if every episode had the potential to end with a miraculous being recovered!

Improvement Three: Audience Understanding

Most of the miraculous are pretty straightforward. The tiger is a magic punch. The black cat is destruction. The rabbit is time-travel. But the peacock? I cannot explain it to you. In fact, when I first started watching the show, I asked the friend who got me into it what sentimonsters were. She had no idea how to explain them and she was not a casual fan!

We're told that they're an emotion brought to life, but what does that even mean? Who picks their form and special powers: the person whose emotion is being brought to life or the peacock holder? Why are they somewhat immune to the power of pure destruction? What kinds of emotions overwhelm the creation process and create things like Feast? I can't tell you. It's not in the show.

We're three seasons into dealing with sentimonsters and people are still using the head writer's Twitter feed to justify their stance on this major part of canon. There is no reason to introduce such a complex element to your show if you don't care to engage with it.

This is extra true because it's not a fundamental part of making canon's story work. Canon's official line is that Emilie had no idea that the broken miraculous would kill her or anyone else, so they didn't need to make her use case be some major thing like making a baby. She could have just wanted to play with magic and we'd get the same story.

And if they did want her to make her death an active choice? Then we're back to improvement one where her use case needs to be something that's a relatable sacrifice. As is, she doesn't feel even remotely sympathetic. She's just a privileged, wealthy white woman who used that wealth to get magic in order to create her perfect child because she's too good for the kind of suffering and hard choices us normal people deal with. (Like come on writers, at least make the Agrestes middle class. You went the least sympathetic route possible here.)

In another post, someone mentioned using a sentimonster as an artificial heart for Adrien and that's a perfect example of a relatively small change that makes a world of difference for how people view Emilie. Using forbidden magic to save a real child is so much more powerful than the route that canon took.

Improvement Four: Thematic Consistency

I was a huge fan of the initial idea that every miraculous required a specific type of person to weld it. It's something that I lean on heavily in my own writing when I do stuff that focuses on the magic. I want the fox to feel like it belongs to Alya and Alya alone. Similarly, I want the peacock to feel like it belongs to Nathalie or like Nathalie is totally botching its use. Because the peacock is so nebulous and ridiculously overpowered, it doesn't feel like it belongs to any of its holders. Nathalie, Emilie, Gabriel, and Felix have nothing that ties them together and yet I can't say which of them were a true fit and which of them were failing to use the peacock to its full potential. It seems to fit all of them because there's nothing special about. It just makes you a minor god. Huh, maybe that's the theme? Ego of a god? It certainly fits.

So, what should this new power be?

I won't bias you by telling you what I did, I'll just give you my starting point and let you make you own suggestions. The original seven miraculous are largely designed around myths (tricky fox, bad luck cat, etc) so go look up mythology around peacocks and come up with a power that fits! Or don't. That lovely theme was dashed to pieces with the zodiac miraculous as far as I can tell. After all, Fluff is pretty clearly designed around the ancient myth of Alice in Wonderland. 🙄

[confessionsofkotlc]

To the person who asked why Keefe is complex, I thought I’d try to give my two cents on the matter.

Also it’s totally fine if you dislike Keefe! He’s just complex, is all. You can dislike him anyway, this is soley about why I think he is a complex character. Not an attempt to sway you to like him or anything!

He’s introduced pretty early as though he’s going to be a silly, funny, flirty side character, and a lot of that falls away as the series goes on. He’s always had avoidant defense mechanisms, which used to look like deflecting with humor and as his trauma worsens turns into a lot of literal running away. We learn in book one that he has really bad parents and it’s like oh, okay, so he has a hard childhood and covers for it with humor. Pretty classic way to round a character out, but it works. Sure. But he wasn’t too complex THEN.

I think the way finding out his mother was with the neverseen impacted him was far worse than the fandom gives it credit for. It was a huge turning point in his life. He breaks down more. He can’t keep up his defenses as much.

Did you hear that? He can’t keep up his defenses as much. Deflecting isn’t working.

And then, at the end of Neverseen, he literally runs away.

Direct correlation.

He goes to be a “double agent” and hopefully be able to help his friends from the inside. But really… he wants to do something useful without having to face his friends. He’s avoiding. He’s running.

The reveal of his mother being with the neverseen was also more than figuring out his parent was a villain, which is bad enough. He also learned that the parent who had always been slightly better, slightly kinder, slightly more caring was actually the evil one. It isn’t talked about nearly enough the amount of trust issues he must have gotten from that. It also adds an extra layer to every time he’s betrayed a friend’s trust or told a lie. He doesn’t think it’s right, but a part of him is still processing what happened with his mother.

He searches through his memories like crazy. He wondered how he, an empath, managed to miss that his mother was evil. He questions everything the knows. How does he know if someone is lying? He doesn’t. He doesn’t know if someone is lying. He lies. He lies and lies and lies.

He holds on to every scrap of paper with every detail he’s ever remembered about his childhood and his mother and questions everything. This is actually a huge part of what makes his character complex, since that’s the question—the way he clings to every. Single. Detail. Because he’s NOT just avoidant, he’s also unable to let go, and somehow he is absolutely both at the same time.

Constantly running from the painful things he clutches close to his chest.

That sentence alone might actually explain what makes him complex, but I’m going to go further.

I think his execution of research and ideas and reckless plans without telling his friends, betraying them and lying to them, is both a product of the fact that he’s never considered himself someone who gets listened to seriously and the fact that he’s still processing his mother’s betrayal. (Let’s not gloss over that. He’s still grieving from that.)

“Are you afraid of me, Foster?” It isn’t a question. It’s a realization. In this moment he realizes what he’s really done. He has flashbacks to the mountain, to finding out about his mother, and he wonders if too much of her is in his blood. Of course he rushes to explain his double agent scheme, but he’s in pretty deep and this isn’t going to be his last betrayal. The scene where he steals the alluveterre crystal and Alvar might be his worst betrayal. But there’s so much behind it.

So many complexities.

So many underlying thoughts, some of which I don’t think he’s even aware of.

He’s trying and he knows he’s wrong but he does it anyway and focuses on everything right about the wrong.

Being literally, physically changed by his mother so that he has new abilities that could actually hurt people is another huge turning point. Now it isn’t, “are you afraid of me, Foster?” It’s “you should be afraid of me, Foster.” All pretense of laughter and humor and jokes is gone. The Leo Valdez side has evaporated.

If he was worried that too much of his mother was in his blood before, well, he’s definitely worried about it now. Because she changed him and he hates it and he’s afraid of himself.

He’s afraid of himself and he’s afraid for his friends (because even amongst all of this he cares, he loves his friends and he specifically loves Sophie) and his deflection is once again entirely gone and he does the thing we should have all seen coming.

He runs away.

But I think unraveled will show us that once again, even in running away, he can’t let go of the things he wants to leave behind. They stick to him and he takes them everywhere he goes.

In unlocked he writes in his journal that Sophie deserves someone like Fitz. He hates himself for having betrayed her and having made her lose faith in the good of the world. He loves her enough that even when he wants her to be with him, when he believes she’ll be happier with his friend, he wants that for her.

(He can hardly believe it when Sophie chooses him. “I don’t want to mess this up,” he says. “Please don’t let me mess this up.” He knows he’s a mess. He’s worried he’s too much of a mess to preserve the one thing he’s always wanted.)

And even in the end of Stellarlune, he takes the knife from Sophie to attack his mother, without telling her. In that moment I wonder if he was even thinking about his own stupid bad patterns, or if he was so determined to end things with his mother that he didn’t even consider that in some small way, he was sort of doing just the sort of thing he swore to himself he’d stop doing.

So what makes Keefe a complex character?

The way he cares so impossibly deeply for his friends while also doing things he knows will hurt them and feeling in his mind like maybe he can’t even stop it, maybe he’s just a mess that can’t be fixed and the best thing he can do for his friends is never see them again—

The way he runs, avoids, escapes, NEVER confronts his issues, but also is never able to leave them behind, dragging them with him wherever he runs, every single detail running through his head—

The way he’ll never say it out loud, but some part of him is worried he’s too much like his mother, wishing she’d get her hands off his life and stop changing him before he can’t deny it anymore—

The way his bad habits mirror each other even as he changes and develops as a character—

It’s not just his trauma and his coping mechanisms, or his feelings for Sophie and his friends. It’s the layers upon layers in his character, thick as shadowflux and so buried that even Keefe doesn’t know about some of them. (Even I can’t articulate them all. I’m able to really get into a state of feeling his character but these are the only things I’m able to get into words.)

This is about as much of his complexities as I can explain using actual words in the English language and not just transferring emotions. To the anon who was wondering how he’s complex, I hope this helps!

[she-walked-away]

Tag Game Tuesday Monday: 911 Lone Star Fandom Edition

It took me nearly a week to get to it, but thanks Anne @thisbuildinghasfeelings for tagging me!!!

When did you first start watching Lone Star? Who or what introduced you to the show?

Funnily enough, I was watching the Super Bowl in 2020 and was folding laundry when they showed a promo from Lone Star and it was the part where they were talking to the old lady and I heard "Sure ma'am but just so you know I'm a homosexual" and I looked up because that was VERY random for a commercial to say and I the rest of the scene aired and I thought it was one of the best things I've ever seen lmao.

I actually did not start watching the show until 1x08 when TK got shot and I was HOOKED. I remember having to miss the season 1 finale to go to the grocery and checking my twitter account to see if Tarlos got together in the end ajkdhafdas

Which season is your favorite?

Season 3!

I'll never forget the EXPERIENCE that Push was. I was on a whole rollercoaster of emotions and I remember watching the TK waking up and Grace giving birth montage live and when it went off, my husband sitting behind me and very quietly going "whoa." We were both SHOOK. And then the proposal happened in 3x18 and I slunk off my couch because I was dying happily.

I think my rank is 3, 4 bc of the wedding and SOULMATES!!!, 2, and then 1. I really did like season 2 but you can tell Tim kind of bum rushed the ending dalkhdf

Who is your favorite character? (Bonus: If you answered TK or Carlos, who is your favorite besides them?)

TK and Carlos will always be number one and I cannot pick a favorite between them. They're both so complex and interesting.

I think my second favorite has got to be Tommy. She always just *fit* in the show better than Michelle and I think she's hilarious and smart and her friendship with Grace and Judd are my favorites. Plus, I love how she and Owen play off each other.

Top five episodes. Go!

Push - nothing will ever top this I'm afraid

Bad Call

Saving Grace

Red vs Blue- LET THEM HAVE FUNNY QUIRKY EPISODES LIKE THIS BUT MORE CARLOS

In Sickness and Health

If you could pick any character to be given a "begins" episode, who would it be and what would that episode look like?

After season 4- I kind of NEED a Carlos one. I always want one and I think we learned a lot about him last season, but 4x18 opened a lot more questions about his childhood for me. Especially since he genuinely doesn't seem to remember a lot of the good times with his dad and it makes me curious if there is some underlying reason why other than just distance as he grew up.

But also NANCY. What is her backstory?? Her dad told her to start saving when she was little and she has thousands of dollars that she can lend out?? I want to know if there is more to it! And how did she get her start? Was she with the original 126 paramedic squad?

What is a scenario or storyline that you would like to see in season 5?

Obviously Gabriel's murder being solved and it would be great if Tarlos did it TOGETHER. And if one of them is in dangerous peril at the same time in front of the other- would not complain. I'm all for a "being threated and stalked" kind of storyline- I was thinking of along the lines of The Watcher by @ladytessa74 I want to be scared!! And to watch them be scared and IN LOVE AND A TEAM

I saw this earlier, but an episode from like B-shifts POV. You know that Owen and the firefam respond to the most INSANE calls, so I want to see what B shift and Captain Harper's POV is towards A shift. I think it would be hilarious.

Also- give me some silliness within the Catan Crew. Like maybe someone gets a little TOO into a game and then we have an episode of them all pranking each other or a little funny divide- similar to 4x16, but without them actually fighting.

What do you think is going on in this still?

It's Ghost face from Scream asking Carlos what his favorite scary movies are

:)

I think it's either about Gabriel's murder or them finding out that Robert is dead. Rob Lowe said we'd see part of that day so I wonder if we will see the aftermath since I don't think Robert necessarily died within a week after the wedding.

We all know about the elusive 5x05 spicy scene that has been teased, so what is your prediction for how it could possibly top 1x02?

I think it could DEF be some *spicy* shower sex. If TK get's injured in 504, Carlos should help make him feel all nice and healed in the SHOWER

Where was the Tarlos honeymoon in your mind?

I think somewhere in Texas like Galveston. It's not too far away, but I think it's far enough to where TK and Carlos would feel okay leaving both their parents for a short trip. I headcanon that they spent A LOT of money on a quick 8 week wedding *cries in timeline* and so they'd have to save up for a bigger and longer honeymoon.

Shoutout one of your favorite fan creations.

I HAVE SO MANY SO I AM SO SORRY IF I FORGET TO MENTION. It's hard to me to count my favorite stories beacuse I think this fandom has so many. I usually put them on my kindle when I'm traveling so I can reread on a long road trip and read in between the Pluto TV commercials during my long treadmill runs.

I just found my password for Ao3 that i created in 2015 (i was a fanfiction.net OG and live journal girly lol really dating myself) so I am currently making my way through reviewing @welcometololaland's ALTA and I have so many other ones to review as well! @strandnreyes, @reyesstrand, @paperstorm, @carlos-in-glasses, @ladytessa74, @rmd-writes , @goodways, @heartstringsduet , @liminalmemories21 , @lemonlyman-dotcom and literally so many more. I love going back and rereading fics on my work breaks now I'm back from leave and now that I have my password back, I plan on continuing that!!

I love gifsets by @guardian-angle22, @lutavero, @reasonandfaithinharmony, and more!

Also Anne's @thisbuildinghasfeelings cross-stitch!! Literally SO FREAKING COOL.

If I forgot you, I am so sorry. But if you write or make art or anything else in this fandom- just know that I am obsessed with everything you do :) I've just been silently stalking this fandom since like 2020

[jamethinks]

I wanna say something that's really mean and a lot of people are gonna hate me for it but idk it has to be said. Yor is an extremely boring and flat character. And this is not me hating on her, it's actually the opposite because I love Yor and I believe she is the most complex and nuanced character on the rooster. The problem is that no one seems to let her be the complex interesting character she is.

And the reason is because of fucking blatant misogyny and it drives me up the wall. Yor isn't allowed to be anything but a mother. She isn't allowed to an assassin, she isn't allowed to have friends, hell she isn't even allowed to be a sister. She's just a mother and nothing else.

We don't really see Yor being an assassin. She doesn't train or work on her skills, she didn't even have to work on her strength, she was born that way. The only time we get to focus on her job is the cruise arc but even then she's not even doing her actual job, she's being a bodyguard??? And the entire time she felt bad because she wasn't with her family??? And after all of that she forced her self to go enjoy the vacation with them even though she just spent the being beat up by people actively trying to murder her. Mind you- when Loid comes back from beating the living fuck out her brother only to get his ass saved by Nightfall- he gets to lay in bed while Yor just brushes everyone's hair??? And to top it all off, after all the work that she did protecting that random woman and her baby, Twilight is the one who actually ends up saving the day by disarming a bomb. WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU PUT THAT IN??? WHY WAS HE EVEN THERE??? COULDN'T HE JUST VANISH THE WAY YOR REGULARLY DOES SO TWILIGHT CAN FOCUS ON HIS JOB??? LIKE GO HOME OH MY GOD

And then there's the friend thing. Twilight has friends, he wouldn't classify them as friends but they're clearly on his side. Namely, he has Franky who he trust so much he gets to go little adventures with him and take care of his daughter. We even get a look at their meeting. Then there's Yor, Yor has no actual friends. There are her coworkers who fucking hate her for some unclear reason. Apparently she's weird (not even that weird just not very social because why give her an actual personality) so that means you gotta bully her like your a bunch of high school girls even though you're married adult women (one with a whole ass child). And then you introduce a new female character except she hates her because she's jealous of her, why, oh because of a man of course. I can't even think of a single other female character Yor talks to, and she clearly doesn't have any guy friends because make her uncomfortable.

"But the whole point is that she was a shy shut in and being with Loid and Anya makes her more confident" and you see why that is an issue right? Because when she's single and childless, she's lost and confused and isolated. The only genuine r/ship she has is with Yuri and it's fucking Yuri man come on. The only time she seems to feel fulfilled is when she gets to be a mother and a wife because fuck everything else. Dead parents? Groomed into a serial killer? Parentification? Workplace harassment? Vaguely suicidal thoughts? Who cares, her biggest dilemma is that she can't cook.

Speaking of which, that was a random fucking retcon. Because before she wasn't a good cook but she was competent. And then all of a sudden she just can't at all? Yor's whole fucking thing is that she raised her brother by herself after both he parents fucking died and I am supposed to believe she didn't even learn how to cook? You couldn't even let her have one fucking skill. Just a useless woman who does nothing but offer to make tea and coffee. Apparently she can kick ass but only when she's paid to or when her family is threatened (or just a child in general).

And the cherry on the cake. Not even the fucking dog likes her. Why doesn't the dog like her? Because she can't cook.

I am not even going to try to open the can of worms that is Lieutenant Yuri Briar because where would I even begin.

The one genuine developed relationship she has is the one with Anya and it's based on absolutely fucking nothing. She just decided this random child is her daughter now and that she wants to be her mother despite never actually expressing any interest in parenthood or children. Like she was a-ok throwing away all her freedom from before and just becoming a mother overnight because????????

"Oh she raised her brother-" That's more of a reason for her to NOT want to raise a child especially so suddenly. But who cares right? The only significance of that storyline is explaining Yuri's odd obsession with his sister, it didn't affect her psychological development at all. Because at the end of the day, she's a woman and raising and caring for children is instinctual even at the age of 12.

[soapyghost]

Sparks

Firefighter Price x Fem! Reader

I honest to god did not expect this to get the love it did?? So thank you??? I’m blown away. Also this chapters kindaaa short- and its the epitome of slow burn and I am not sorry. It will get more- angsty soon ehehe. Also I did my best to try and remember everyone who wanted to be added to the tag list and I am so sorry if I forgot anyone! Let me know if you want/ed to be added!

Warnings: hinting at a super gross manager being gross - Mostly fluff. Swearing. Character developments babyyyy

Taglist: @330bpm-whiplash @blueoorchid @deadbranch @sofasoap @c0wb0yenthusiast @emmmmmmmaaaaaaaaaaa @fruitymoonbeams-blog @averyyreads @lostmypopsicle @jxvipike @moonlighting87 @amatis-gray

A week had passed since the fire in your apartment complex. It had taken a couple days before you were able to go back to your apartment to search for any belongings that may have survived. Luckily your phone somehow managed to survive the inferno, lord knows you didn’t have the money to replace it.

After about 2 days of staying at the hotel, your best friend April was generous enough to let you stay on her couch until you could get enough money scraped together for a deposit on a new place. As nice as the hotel was, you felt terrible about the possibility of racking up a bill for Price. No matter how much you begged the receptionist she would not let you pay a dime for the room, stating that John had given her strict rules to not let you.

The images you managed to squirrel away in your mind of the egnima known as John Price would not stay hidden back there. You weren’t ready for a relationship- not after your ex. And yet, you still woke up every morning in his jacket, the smell of him was vaguely noticeable underneath the overpower scent of smoke.

You had just moved out of your ex boyfriends house and into your apartment, on the opposite side of the state. Well, your ex apartment now. The idea of having to start all over brought tears to your eyes. You had been here less than a month and already things were turning into a shit show.

Today was your first day back at work after the fire, your new manager, Sheppard or Shep for short, was surprisingly kind about the situation. He completely understood and let you take some time off to get your things together. You didn’t understand why the other waitstaff disliked him so much. They always whispered about how cruel, rude and dirty Shep was.

As you rushed into the restaraunt to start your first shift back you were taken aback to see none other than John Price and the entire crew. As you made your way passed his table your eyes locked- and that perfect smile crept upon his face. His smile felt like rays of sunshine. Like a breeze on a summer day.

“Well if it isn’t Y/N” Price bellows, drawing the attention of the whole restaraunt to you. Soap looked at you and waved, “glad to see you alive lass!” You smiled weakly back at him before glancing over to the paramedic who wrapped your hand. “Hows that hand looking” he asked, nodding at your right hand which was now bandage free.

“It’s much better. Thanks” you say, holding it up breifly. You’re positive your face is about as red as the tomatoes on the omelet Soap had infront of him. Your blood runs a cold as your eyes glance over the party and see the man in the balaclava- except this time it has a skull on it.

Who the hell wears that out in public! A shiver runs through you and Price seems to notice. “So Y/N what brings you here” he says, taking your attention away from his terrifying counterpart. “Oh uhm well. I work here” you reply, ”and if I don’t get back to clock in I might not have one much longer. But I’ll be back out!” “Good. Because you haven’t been properly introduced to the 141 house” he beams, gesturing at the men at the table with him.

With that you slip through the kitchen door and back towards the lockers. You press your forehead onto them to help cool your face down so maybe it won’t give away your embarassment. Why is he here? Does he know you still have his jacket? Oh fuck.

“You alright Y/N?” Sheps voice booms, pulling you from your daze. He drops a hand on your shoulder and looks down at you with concern in his eyes. “Yeah yeah. Sorry. I just.” You sigh, trying to collect your thoughts. Did you really want to trauma dump on your boss? His hand raises to cup your cheek, causing you to flinch.

“That crew was the one who saved me from the fire” you say, turning your face away from his hand. Something flickers in his eyes, just for a second, anger? Jealousy? Rage? You’re not sure what it is but before you can place it his eyes change back to concern. “Oh. Well. What a coincidence!” He forces a chuckle and a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’ll see you out on the floor in 5” he states, before turning curtly and walking out.

You blink a bit, startled by his sudden change, the rumors about him being a piece of shit seemed a lot more plausible now. Shaking your head, you open your locker and stuff your purse in it before throwing up your hair into a ponytail and heading back out to the front.

Lucky for you, the 141 were not in your section today. But that didn’t stop you from stealing glances over at their table in between taking care of your own guests. When you had finally taken care of your section, you decided to venture over to be introduced to the whole “squad”.

“Hey yall didn’t have to wait for me guys” you say, noticing the empty plates.

You sauntered over, catching the Captians eye before flashing a small smile, “sorry for making you wait boys” you say, noticing they had long since finished their breakfast. “Oh luv’, you ain’t gotta apologize to these muppets” Price replies, his accent thick. “Hey who you callin’ a muppet, Cap?” Gaz questions, his eyebrows furrowed in mock anger.

Price laughs and you swear that must be what heaven sounds like. “But I wanted to introduce you to everyone. That as you already know, is Gaz. Best paramedic this side o’ the town” he says, voice full of pride. “That shaggy man is Soap. Don’t ask” he quips, before you could even open your mouth. “Strange name for a strange guy” you giggle. Soap brings his hand up to his chest feigning pain, Price let’s put a small chuckle at that. “Those two are Alejandro and Rudy. They keep us well fed at the house and are pretty decent at their jobs” John says, gesturing to the two men at the other side of the table from him. Both men wave and flash you big smiles. “And this,” he says, gesturing to the terrifying man in the skull balaclava, “this is Ghost.”

Ghost simply grunts, “can we go now captian. We have shit to do” and begins to stand. “Ghost. You need to learn to relax once ‘n a while.” Price reprimands him. Before you have a chance to say anything or greet the team, Sheppard voice booms, “Y/N what are you doing? Get back to your section”. You whip your head around to see the face of your extremely angry boss.

“Shep, cut her some slack eh?” Price retorts, his face contorting into anger. What happened between the two of them? “No no he’s right” you smile weakly, trying to alleviate the obvious tension in the room. “Go Y/N” Shep says, before coming up behind you and putting his hand on your lower back and pivoting you away from the table.

“Sheppard. You don’t need to move her” Johns voice rises slightly, “she was going”. The temperature in the room was rising. “Boys it’s fine. Really. I’ll see you around yeah?” You say, voice quaking. “Of course luv” Prices says, relaxing slightly, “Cmon boys. We have shit to do back at the house.”

At this, the 141 house gathers their stuff and begins heading towards the door. Price and Sheppard exchange a death stare from across the room, causing goosebumps to form all over you. Now you had to know what happened between them.

You smile, feeling your heart slam in your chest at the thought of them leaving. Would you ever see them again? This is stupid. Just because John Price saved you from a burning building doesn’t mean he wants anything else to do with you. It’s his job. Just like it’s your job to serve them food. “Alright boys, you have a good rest of your day alright?” You say sweetly. Desperately trying to cover up how nervous you are.

The boys all give you a wave goodbye as they head out the door. John flashing you a smile before saying “it was good to see ya again, Y/N”. Now your heart feels like it’s about to smash through your ribs, he’s glad? To see you? You nearly melt as you whisper “you too John”. His eyes crinkle as his smile widens ever so slightly before heading out the door.

Seeing the boys climb into the fire truck and head out of the parking lot you felt a bit giddy. It wouldn't be the last you would see of John Price, if he knew your manager it had to mean he frequented your restaurant. A small smile crept on your face at the thought, but it was quickly wiped away by the shouting of Sheppard telling you to stop standing around.

You return to their table to help your coworker clean it up when you see it. Written on the back of the receipt in probably the worst handwriting you’ve ever seen, was a phone number and a simple message:

"Incase you ever want to return that jacket- John Price"

[reiderwriter]

Hello!!If you were part of the writers on criminal minds,what would you have done differently when it came to the romantic relationships of it all and whats your opinion on some of the ships?Which would you erase and which are your favorites?I'm willing to read as much details and analysis you are willing to give on this lmao😂I loved the analysis on Reids sexual evolution season by season and am really curious on what you think on the ships like Reid and JJ,Reid Lila,Reid and Maeve,Reid and Elle😂Personally I would have created a diffrent character as a love interest for him all together.

This is practically an essay so I'm just going to apologise in advance of this. I'm not going to say I'd change much because the end product we got is my favorite show for a reason but yes, here is me talking about all the romantic relationships I can think of in CM and my opinions on them!

(Spoilers for season 1-15 of CM, CME, and season 8 of NCIS - yeah that's how long this post is).

Reid Ships

I think Reid ships are the ones most people have issues with in Criminal Minds so I'm going to start here with personal headcanons and my personal highlights. It's going to become clear that my biggest pet peeve in CM is when the writers want to give the characters a love interest and then just gender-bend their personalities, so let's start with Maeve and Spencer.

I've already talked at length in other posts about how I think the Maeve/ Zugzwang plotline wasn't my favorite. It was some amazing acting from MGG and Beth Reisgraf, but personally, I think it suffered from "serialized cop drama" plot line status. This show airs week after week with another case to solve in 45 minutes and they don't have the time or the format to pause through moments that in a standard drama would be very impactful.

To go on a slight tangent, that is partially why the relationships between the main cast are usually the only ones developed very well over extended arcs (I'll return to this when I talk about Jeid).

So, when you're trying to have an emotionally resonant moment, and you only have a handful of cold opens and one full episode to do it, you're going to have to make the characters motivations, personalities and back stories mesh in a way that makes you think: "holy shit they're perfect together."

Maeve and Spencer aren't that. I hate to use this term, but Maeve is like a manic pixie dream girl for Spencer? She's written as if she's too good to be true, which is why we're supposed to feel so sad when she dies. But they also tried to make her a complex character and didn't have the time to really do it, which is why we're given a back story that makes no fucking sense (as Spencer's DOCTOR no less) and some hints that she probably doesn't feel the same way as Spencer does for her (fiancé she never told him about etc.)

When Spencer's character starts evolving in later seasons to being more than just a genius, but a genius with trauma, they pull a similar stunt with Cat Adams/ Max

The show runner Erica Messer did mention that the Maeve plotline was always designed to be a three act plot: she's introduced, Spencer is in love with her, she dies. But, in my opinion, we didn't get enough of an introduction to her for me to feel really all that bad about it? They banked a lot on the audiences attachment to Reid, so when you feel bad about Maeve's death it's all about Reid - why do bad things keep happening to HIM, I wonder how HE will get through it - when she is the one who was just murdered. Those kind of dynamics always kind of throw me in romantic relationships.

I'm going to be clear, I do not ship Cat Adams and Reid either and I have pretty much no opinion on Max other than that if she were real I'd probably avoid her (teachers who hate teaching and blame the kids are weird! And I'm a teacher so I can say that I think lol).

Cat Adams is girl-Reid if he had a villain arc. She's 100% again there to push Reid's character development, and she's used as an action rather than a character. Max is the same. In season 15, with the entire team at a crossroads, they have to allow Reid two outs: one villain arc where he gives into his lust for Cat Adams, and one happy ending where he gets to start something with someone who is totally normal and a way out of the BAU the way Savannah was for Morgan. But it can't be as easy for Reid, and that's why we're left with the Cat/Max dilemma because he is really attracted to Cat, despite the fact that she was threatening to end the lives of members of Max's family.

By the end of the show, Reid had been actively on the team the most out of all the cast members (bar Penelope, but she wasn't out on cases first hand, so there's not as much emotional baggage there for her). He can't have an easy exit, so I kind of view this "love triangle" bullshit as a metaphor for Spencer choosing a normal life vs a continuation with the BAU.

Which is why I think that if CME continues, I think we're unlikely to see or hear from Max, because that means he's picked the BAU.

Okay now, not to sound like a broken record but, Jeid:

Before Truth or Dare, there is one single suggestion of Jeid being a possibility and it's a suggestion, from Gideon of all people, in season 1. It is CRAZY to me that after thirteen seasons they just decided to develop that one plotline again because jesus CHRIST.

My main problem with Jeid is that, actually, I think it had a lot of potential. Like I said, serialized dramas only have time to develop relationships between their main cast members, which is why we end up with a pseudo-found-family vibe no matter who happens to be on the team at any given point. A lot of similar dramas go down the route of coworker/ team mate relationships (think Ziva and DiNozzo in NCIS or Mulder and Scully in The X Files).

There was absolutely the potential for an opposites attract relationship with Jeid, but I think the minute they abandoned that after that small dialogue we got something WAY FUCKING BETTER. Their friendship is entirely underrated, Spencer regularly babysits her kid, she comforts him after Emily "dies," enough for them to have arguments about it after the fact. Your honor they are SIBLINGS. That is UNCLE SPENCER. Not your future step-dad.

When they decided to commit to JJ and Will, they should've stuck to it, and as a big fan of the Season 7 finale + Hit and Run it is very shitty seeing them trying to retcon both of these characters amazing developments and growth over 14 seasons and have them regress to shit tier versions of their Season 1 selves.

"But Kacie, there must be some Spencer relationships you like," I hear you ask. And there ARE:

Lila Archer is a great foil for Spencer. She has a happy, glamorous life until their paths cross, and then we can assume from dialogue in season 6 that she continues having a pretty fucking glamorous life after everything goes down. I don't think Spencer works best with characters that are traumatised or overly smart the way he is, because he needs something to return to after the cases that switch off that part of him, to help him forget the horrifying shit he sees on the job.

So Lila Archer was kind of a great love interest.

Another one that I'm so annoyed they didn't explore more is Austin. She's the bartender in the Season 4 Episode "52 Pickup" that is charmed by Spencer's card tricks. She is never mentioned again, but they had a great chemistry, she was quick on her feet and managed to spot the unsub first, and she was a really great foil for Spencer as well; it was a street smarts/ book smarts kind of dynamic. If they'd carried that character forward and had her reappear a few times, it could've been a great romantic plot.

I will just quickly note that the reason we most likely didn't see many romantic plots for Reid was because Matthew Gray Gubler didn't like the idea of giving him a romantic plotline, stating that there were so many more interesting things to do with the character - and he's right!

I'm a fanfiction writer, and the allure of characters like Spencer Reid is they are mostly romantic clean slates - you can write whatever you want for them within reason without having to disregard canon relationships. This is why similarly, Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Venom, and young "Marauders" fanfictions are pretty popular here imo too - canon compliance isn't disregarded, the reader is just written in. So I don't think I'd change a thing for Spencer to be honest (apart from maybe not kill Maeve off and give her the actual villain arc, but I say that so regularly I'm beginning to sound like a broken record).

Also I'll just quickly mention Elle because you mentioned her - outside of fanfiction there are literally zero hints (imo) of a thing between Elle and Reid lmao there's more of a case to be made for Elle and Morgan, but for some reason, writers and fans alike don't like committing to giving Morgan more than simply platonic connections. THEY SHOULD!! THE MAN IS SEXY AS HELL!!!!!!! GIVE ME A MORGAN WHO IS REGULARLY FUCKING!

Hotchner Ships

Speaking of characters that have a long time where they are single! Aaron Hotchner is another fandom favorite to write self-insert fanfiction for, because of the gap between Haley Hotchner's death in 100, and the introduction of Beth in season 7.

In general, I like the way Hotch's relationships play out on screen. Let's start with Haley:

You can tell that the writers really enjoyed the dynamic between work Hotch and home Hotch, because they played on it so much across the four first seasons. The very first time he is introduced he's in his bedroom picking out baby names with his childhood sweetheart, so any further scenes of him being more stern or serious are always in contrast with that introduction. It's a cold open to his character that immediately let's you know that there is more going on in his world than just the BAU, and he is the only member of the season one team that has that.

Then, they really LOVE taking that shit away from him. I'm not going to go into detail here about how fucking wack the time line is for Criminal Minds, but it is stupid and that's important here because:

I think Haley's reasons for divorcing Hotch are stupid.

She says that she married a man who was a prosecutor, not a man that was an FBI Profiler but realistically by the time of their divorce, he'd been in the BAU like 10 years. They rely more on the audiences sense of time (we're two years in, so they've all been on the team two years etc) to push this character motivation off. And for a while it makes sense that they were separated, until the events of 100. But also: in sickness and in health, for better and for worse, you literally signed up for whatever the FUCK happened, that's what a marriage vow IS.

Now I'm a sucker for the angst of 100,but would it not have felt 10x more emotionally disgusting if Hotch and Haley were talking about reuniting? If they had never celebrated in the first place, and had just finished working through their marital issues when Foyet comes back into their lives and Haley has to be whisked away again? Yes. Yes it would.

There's an episode in season 9 that really pisses me off, and it's the one that Hotch passes out from an old tear in his Foyet stab wounds and he goes into surgery and talks with Haley and Foyet in heaven while watching the rest of his life after the events of 100 on a cinema screen. It's cliché and also has no pay-off because it doesn't change the way he views his relationships after that, and it's not like he's at a crossroads at that point, so it means nothing to the audience except as a remembrance of an issue and an episode so far in the past that it feels like flogging a dead horse. They do this twice, btw, and this is the more successful use of this plot (the first time they do it to Elle in Season 1/2 during the events of The Wicker King - she talks to the father we didn't even know was dead, who died decades ago in an unrelated time. Not to keep bringing NCIS up, but I think the only time I've seen it done well is whenever Gibbs kept seeing Mike Franks in the diner scenes). They do not out enough effort into these plots to achieve the emotional resonance they are aiming for in my personal opinion.

I'm not entirely sure, but I think this could've been the beginning of the era where Gibson was having a lot of issues with the cast, because it just felt like they didn't want to use him in the on-location shoots for a while lmao. Anyway, all that to say, Haley should've stayed dead, and not come back as a stupid phantom.

After the dust has settled on Haley and Hotchner though, we get Hotchner and Beth:

This is going to be a short note, because I actually really like the relationship between these two characters. They have the very slow cold-open build up that Maeve and Spencer get, but there's a lot more and a lot less to Beth's character that makes the dynamic between them really enjoyable to watch.

We're once again treated to the out-of-work Hotchner that had been missing since Season 4 (his in between scenes with Jack are cute but there's always the tragedy hanging over them). Beth is running a marathon in honor of her dad, Hotch is doing something similar for the FBI Triathalon, they train together the tension builds, they start dating. Now obviously it wasn't the purpose or aim of this character introduction to build to tragedy, and I think they just genuinely wanted to show a happy Hotchner again, but its still a valid criticism of the weird voyeuristic Maeve build-up that they literally succeeded a more sympathetic and audience engaging late minor-recurring-character EARLIER THAN THE MAEVE ARC.

I'll shut up now, but yeah, I like Hotch and Beth.

Penelope Ships

This post is getting ridiculously long, so much so that I'm even contemplating adding a fucking word count, but let's continue and dive in to my next issue.

Penelope's romantic life is used as a punch-line for the first 11 seasons and I HATE it.

There is no easy short to say this, but I despise Kevin. He is stupid, and a joke, and I hate him and I am SO HAPPY that she dumped him. They made her really pathetic about him for a few episodes, and then he kept fucking coming back too which was even worse.

Kevin is literally male Garcia but with all the worst attributes. He's clingy, and needy, and he may be smart but in a very "incel" way. In my opinion, Kevin is less a fully fledged character and more a joke line/ convenient plot point for when they need more tech analyst work. The best moment in the Kevin/Penelope arc is during the The Gathering, where she really lays into him and tells him off for being jealous of her ukelele instructor AFTER THEY'D BROKEN UP.

Penelope deserved so much better than what they gave her romantically in these seasons. First, her date tried to kill her, her boyfriend was a joke, etc. She never gets the serious romantic plotline that her other teammates do (Hotch/Haley, Spencer/Maeve, Derek/Savannah, JJ/Will, Emily/being a big old lesbian etc). Penelope is really great levity for the rest of the cast because she is happy and she is positive and she is unapologetic in her positivity. It's annoying that they don't let her be more than that in the romantic relationships they give he during these seasons.

Then Luke Alvez is introduced and there is some hope! Galvez truther's please, rise they are so adorable.

Anyone involved in the writing of CME - what the hell was that? Now I haven't seen it myself, to be completely fair, but I know enough to ask the question - really what the HELL was that?

Tl;dr Penelope's sexuality and romantic relationships should not be used as punchlines.

The Aversion to Homosexuality

This is just a general note, but the writers originally did plan to have Emily Prentiss be gay - amazing, great, it's a completely different time now, please let her have a gay awakening soon. It was obviously scrapped early in, but there's a lot of subtext that can be interpreted in that way.

They did commit with Tara, and she gets a gf in CME, so I want to see some Temily in the future if we do get more CM seasons.

So just so you know, everytime I mention Emily flirting with someone in my fic, assume it's a woman if you aren't already, lmao.

(They did also talk about making Reid bisexual as well, which would've also been great, but again, I don't think we're ever getting any more romantic plotlines from Reid).

Other Characters

Here's just a rating and short mention for all the other character couples I can think of in Criminal Minds, because this is already thesis length lmao:

Morgan + Savannah - 8.5/10, no notes, really just the gender bent love interest but done right.

Alex Blake + Husband - 7/10, solid couple, very much enjoyed when they started bringing in the people in established relationships again lmao.

Kate Callahan + Husband - 5/10, same as above but I wasn't as attached to her character rip.

Matt + Kirsty - 10/10 really no notes, I too would be called a breeder if I managed to lock that man down, damn.

Rossi + His 3 Ex-Wives - Make total sense for his character, very enjoyable to me, love that he has a nice moment with most of them again throughout the series, not going to rate it lol.

Rossi + Strauss - 3.5/10 - Last ditch attempt to make Strauss a sympathetic character, but I felt more attached to her growth after being called out by Derek rather than the effect that her death had on Rossi.

Gideon + the friend of his who is murdered by that Frank guy at the end of season 2 - stupid, worst way to go out, made no sense for the character, but I know Mandy Patinkin wanted OUT and honestly, anything for you Inigo Montoya.

Why I think Criminal Minds is Better Without Romance

Generally, I really do agree with Matthew Gray Gubler when he said that there were more interesting things to explore with these characters than their romantic attachments. It does frustrate me to no end that they focused on some of them more than others, and that post Henry, most of JJ's big moments are tied to motherhood and being a mother/ wife, but that change in her character is still amazing and leads her to a lot of growth (not mentioning Truth or Dare again, sorry it doesn't exist at this point in the post)(also I didn't have much time to mention Will and JJ, but I do love them).

Their best moments are the ones we get of them together as a team, saving people and putting away murderers for life, it's a perfect Found Family!!!

Also, no more romance = Spencer Reid can be mine. In conclusion, I am delusional. Thank you for reading this far.

[a-secret-bolton-vampire]

The Last Dragon: An analysis of Rhaegar Targaryen

Originally I was going to post simply about the amount of hate Rhaegar gets from the fandom and how buck-wild it is. But then I realized it wasn't enough to just push back on, no. I have to write a character study on this guy, because there is just simply so much to address!

Rhaegar to me is one of the most fascinating and complex characters in the series, and definitely among my absolute favourites. He is quite contentious, and my goal here isn't to whitewash him necessarily, or to paint him as the ultimate hero. That's boring and antithetical to what A Song of Ice and Fire is supposed to be. Calling him purely good or purely evil is reductive and makes the story smaller. That said, I hope to address why the hate he gets is odd, and how it completely misses the point of his character.

The Dragon's Honor

A total fucking idiot that deserved to die a far more horrible death than he did. He got off lightly.

Sure. Great guy forced to abandon his wife and children to screw an incredibly stupid vapid self centered idiot in a tower for a year. After he lost his honor at Harrenhal for humiliating his pregnant wife. As for the rest perhaps if Rhaegar weren't such a psychotic ass there would actually still be Starks continuously in Winterfell which was probably the thing to keep the evil in check.

Rhaegar dumped his pregnant wife for a truly stupid 14 year old girl. Anyone who does that is not a good man. And Roberts life was actually more tragic that dear Rhaegar's. Or did you forget what happened to Robert's parents?

Rhaegar was a truly awful father. Worse than Robert. Worse than Tywin. Worse, even, than Craster (who kept half his children alive.)

These are just a select few quotes from fans I found on Reddit in discussion about who Rhaegar was as a person. I do need to clarify that most people seemed to have some kind of nuanced take. But the aggressively negative takes... are aggressively negative. In the end, however, we need to look at the text to see what kind of person he was.

Many of the POVs have had interactions with Rhaegar, which give us our best glimpse into who he was as a person. Even then, there are things that they cannot give us, and we are left with an incomplete picture of what this prince was like when he lived. Ned, Cersei, Jaime, Jon Connington, and Barristan all have met and seen Rhaegar, and we hear more from other characters about him in other POVs.

When we are introduced to Rhaegar, it is through Daenerys's POV, in her very first chapter. We will save that for later, but the next instance is in Eddard's POV, and there we see Robert's views on him.

The king touched her cheek, his fingers brushing across the rough stone as gently as if it were living flesh. "I vowed to kill Rhaegar for what he did to her." "You did," Ned reminded him.

Robert despises Rhaegar with every fiber of his being, even 15 years after he killed him. So much so that it extends to all Targaryens, even to a 14-year old Daenerys and her unborn child.

"Nonetheless," Ned said, "the murder of children … it would be vile … unspeakable …" "Unspeakable?" the king roared. "What Aerys did to your brother Brandon was unspeakable. The way your lord father died, that was unspeakable. And Rhaegar … how many times do you think he raped your sister? How many hundreds of times?" His voice had grown so loud that his horse whinnied nervously beneath him. The king jerked the reins hard, quieting the animal, and pointed an angry finger at Ned. "I will kill every Targaryen I can get my hands on, until they are as dead as their dragons, and then I will piss on their graves."

Robert was in love with Lyanna, the woman he was set to marry. In his mind, because of her kidnapping, Robert believes Rhaegar was a rapist, a monster. In The World of Ice and Fire it is stated exactly how Robert reacted to Rhaegar crowning Lyanna the queen of love and beauty.

Brandon Stark, the heir to Winterfell, had to be restrained from confronting Rhaegar at what he took as a slight upon his sister's honor, for Lyanna Stark had long been betrothed to Robert Baratheon, Lord of Storm's End. Eddard Stark, Brandon's younger brother and a close friend to Lord Robert, was calmer but no more pleased. As for Robert Baratheon himself, some say he laughed at the prince's gesture, claiming that Rhaegar had done no more than pay Lyanna her due...but those who knew him better say the young lord brooded on the insult, and that his heart hardened toward the Prince of Dragonstone from that day forth.

Yet it seems Robert is all but alone in his vilification of Rhaegar. Even Ned, whose sister was supposedly kidnapped and raped by him, doesn't think ill of him.

Suddenly, uncomfortably, he found himself recalling Rhaegar Targaryen. Fifteen years dead, yet Robert hates him as much as ever. It was a disturbing notion...

There was no answer Ned Stark could give to that but a frown. For the first time in years, he found himself remembering Rhaegar Targaryen. He wondered if Rhaegar had frequented brothels; somehow he thought not.

Though Ned doesn't say much else, this line implies that Rhaegar was above visiting brothels, that he did not simply use sex for his own pleasure. In this respect, Rhaegar was quite honourable, which is how most characters remember him. Jorah compares Rhaegar and his younger brother Viserys with a marked contrast.

She shivered. "I woke the dragon, didn't I?" Ser Jorah snorted. "Can you wake the dead, girl? Your brother Rhaegar was the last dragon, and he died on the Trident. Viserys is less than the shadow of a snake."

When Daenerys puts an end to the raping of the Lhazareen, Jorah, again, favourably compares her to Rhaegar.

"As you command." The knight gave her a curious look. "You are your brother's sister, in truth." "Viserys?" She did not understand. "No," he answered. "Rhaegar." He galloped off.

"I am not Viserys." "No," he admitted. "There is more of Rhaegar in you, I think, but even Rhaegar could be slain. Robert proved that on the Trident, with no more than a warhammer. Even dragons can die."

Not only is Daenerys's empathy, kindness, and honour compared to Rhaegar's, she is considered to have the same talent for military strategy as him by both Jorah and Barristan.

"Just so," she agreed. "I think we should attack from three sides. Grey Worm, your Unsullied shall strike at them from right and left, while my kos lead my horse in wedge for a thrust through their center. Slave soldiers will never stand before mounted Dothraki." She smiled. "To be sure, I am only a young girl and know little of war. What do you think, my lords?" "I think you are Rhaegar Targaryen's sister," Ser Jorah said with a rueful half smile. "Aye," said Arstan Whitebeard, "and a queen as well."

In general, Jorah and Barristan constantly praise his honour, bravery, and finding him to be nothing like his father Aerys or his brother Viserys.

"Rhaegar fought valiantly, Rhaegar fought nobly, Rhaegar fought honorably. And Rhaegar died."

"Prince Viserys was only a boy, it would have been years before he was fit to rule, and . . . forgive me, my queen, but you asked for truth . . . even as a child, your brother Viserys oft seemed to be his father's son, in ways that Rhaegar never did."

If he had not gone into Duskendale to rescue Aerys from Lord Darklyn's dungeons, the king might well have died there as Tywin Lannister sacked the town. Then Prince Rhaegar would have ascended the Iron Throne, mayhaps to heal the realm. Duskendale had been his finest hour, yet the memory tasted bitter on his tongue. It was his failures that haunted him at night, though. Jaehaerys, Aerys, Robert. Three dead kings. Rhaegar, who would have been a finer king than any of them. Princess Elia and the children. Aegon just a babe, Rhaenys with her kitten. Dead, every one, yet he still lived, who had sworn to protect them. And now Daenerys, his bright shining child queen. She is not dead. I will not believe it.

Even Tywin, someone who cared about prestige but could not be called honourable, believed that Rhaegar would've made a better king than Aerys.

Most of the small council were with the Hand outside Duskendale at this juncture, and several of them argued against Lord Tywin's plan on the grounds that such an attack would almost certainly goad Lord Darklyn into putting King Aerys to death. "He may or he may not," Tywin Lannister reportedly replied, "but if he does, we have a better king right here." Whereupon he raised a hand to indicate Prince Rhaegar.

Barristan tells Daenerys that not only was Rhaegar honourable, he was immensely capable and talented.

"I know little of Rhaegar. Only the tales Viserys told, and he was a little boy when our brother died. What was he truly like?" The old man considered a moment. "Able. That above all. Determined, deliberate, dutiful, single-minded. There is a tale told of him . . . but doubtless Ser Jorah knows it as well."

Rhaegar was also considered a very skilled warrior, but according to Barristan it was not out of joy.

"Prince Rhaegar's prowess was unquestioned, but he seldom entered the lists. He never loved the song of swords the way that Robert did, or Jaime Lannister. It was something he had to do, a task the world had set him. He did it well, for he did everything well. That was his nature. But he took no joy in it. Men said that he loved his harp much better than his lance."

This is a curious thing to remember for later. Rhaegar was not a born fighter, nor was he eager for glory it seemed. He was quite content with being a singer and musician, a private man who loved to read and learn about prophecy. The picture painted is of an honourable, kind, talented, and dutiful man who won people over with ease.

Yet it appears that Rhaegar was perhaps at odds with his family. His relationship with Rhaella and Viserys is not noted upon in the text, but that of his father Aerys is remarked on extensively, and began to fracture after the Defiance of Duskendale.

Once safely returned to King's Landing, His Grace refused to leave the Red Keep for any cause and remained a virtual prisoner in his own castle for the next four years, during which time he grew ever more wary of those around him, Tywin Lannister in particular. His suspicions extended even to his own son and heir. Prince Rhaegar, he was convinced, had conspired with Tywin Lannister to have him slain at Duskendale. They had planned to storm the town walls so that Lord Darklyn would put him to death, opening the way for Rhaegar to mount the Iron Throne and marry Lord Tywin's daughter.

Aerys found ways to insult Rhaegar, such as when he was present for Rhaegar and Elia's firstborn child being shown to the court and refusing to hold her because she "smells Dornish." His madness was apparent to everyone at court, and surely to Rhaegar. There became a clear division at court between Aerys' followers and Rhaegar's followers.

To Grand Maester Pycelle and Lord Owen Merryweather, the King's Hand, fell the unenviable task of keeping peace between these factions, even as their rivalry grew ever more venomous. In a letter to the Citadel, Pycelle wrote that the divisions within the Red Keep reminded him uncomfortably of the situation before the Dance of the Dragons a century before, when the enmity between Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra had split the realm in two, to grievous cost. A similarly bloody conflict might await the Seven Kingdoms once again, he warned, unless some accord could be reached that would satisfy both Prince Rhaegar's supporters and the king's.

If Rhaegar was as learned as people say he was, then he was smart enough to know this as well. And this is why Rhaegar may have tried to find a more peaceful solution to remove Aerys from power. It is mentioned in The World of Ice and Fire that the great tourney at Harrenhal was hosted behind the scenes by Rhaegar for this exact reason.

If this tale be believed, 'twas Prince Rhaegar who urged Lord Walter to hold the tourney, using his lordship's brother Ser Oswell as a gobetween. Rhaegar provided Whent with gold sufficient for splendid prizes in order to bring as many lords and knights to Harrenhal as possible. The prince, it is said, had no interest in the tourney as a tourney; his intent was to gather the great lords of the realm together in what amounted to an informal Great Council, in order to discuss ways and means of dealing with the madness of his father, King Aerys II, possibly by means of a regency or a forced abdication.

It's not just the world book that says this. The main series all but confirms it in a flashback of Jaime's, from right before the Battle of the Trident.

"Your Grace," Jaime had pleaded, "let Darry stay to guard the king this once, or Ser Barristan. Their cloaks are as white as mine." Prince Rhaegar shook his head. "My royal sire fears your father more than he does our cousin Robert. He wants you close, so Lord Tywin cannot harm him. I dare not take that crutch away from him at such an hour." Jaime's anger had risen up in his throat. "I am not a crutch. I am a knight of the Kingsguard." "Then guard the king," Ser Jon Darry snapped at him. "When you donned that cloak, you promised to obey." Rhaegar had put his hand on Jaime's shoulder. "When this battle's done I mean to call a council. Changes will be made. I meant to do it long ago, but . . . well, it does no good to speak of roads not taken. We shall talk when I return."

It's quite clear that Rhaegar was actively trying to avoid war in the first place, instead finding more diplomatic and peaceful ways to resolve such matters. He knew that his father was dangerous, and had plans to deal with him. The fact he wanted to call a great council to remove him meant that he was going to avoid more direct and quicker actions such as kinslaying and costly matters, and cared about optics and doing things through the proper channels.

"The Others take your honor!" Robert swore. "What did any Targaryen ever know of honor? Go down into your crypt and ask Lyanna about the dragon's honor!"

Robert Baratheon believed that Rhaegar had no honour, that he was a cheat, a brute, a rapist. Ironically, all things Robert is. But Robert is alone in believing this. Through his actions, and what others remember of him, Rhaegar did in fact have honour. The dragon's honour was notable to all, and was part of why people were drawn to him so easily.

Smoke and Salt, A Bleeding Star, A Promised Prince

Rhaegar wasn't always the gallant prince he is remembered as. That warrior once beloved by all was at first a quiet boy, buried deep in scrolls and writings.

"As a young boy, the Prince of Dragonstone was bookish to a fault. He was reading so early that men said Queen Rhaella must have swallowed some books and a candle whilst he was in her womb. Rhaegar took no interest in the play of other children. The maesters were awed by his wits, but his father's knights would jest sourly that Baelor the Blessed had been born again. Until one day Prince Rhaegar found something in his scrolls that changed him. No one knows what it might have been, only that the boy suddenly appeared early one morning in the yard as the knights were donning their steel. He walked up to Ser Willem Darry, the master-at-arms, and said, 'I will require sword and armor. It seems I must be a warrior.'"

Whatever Rhaegar found, it had a major impact on him, to change trajectory so drastically. Something that he was absolutely convinced of its validity. Rhaegar is put forward both out of and in universe as a candidate for the messianic prince that was promised, and it appears this is exactly what Rhaegar read in his scrolls. Not only that, but Rhaegar was in contact with his great-grand uncle, Maester Aemon, and he believed that Rhaegar also was the prince that was promised.

"No one ever looked for a girl," he said. "It was a prince that was promised, not a princess. Rhaegar, I thought . . . the smoke was from the fire that devoured Summerhall on the day of his birth, the salt from the tears shed for those who died. He shared my belief when he was young, but later he became persuaded that it was his own son who fulfilled the prophecy, for a comet had been seen above King's Landing on the night Aegon was conceived, and Rhaegar was certain the bleeding star had to be a comet. What fools we were, who thought ourselves so wise! The error crept in from the translation. Dragons are neither male nor female, Barth saw the truth of that, but now one and now the other, as changeable as flame. The language misled us all for a thousand years. Daenerys is the one, born amidst salt and smoke. The dragons prove it." Just talking of her seemed to make him stronger. "I must go to her. I must. Would that I was even ten years younger."

Rhaegar then changed his tune, and believed Aegon was the prince that was promised, which is noted in the vision Dany has of him in the House of the Undying.

Viserys, was her first thought the next time she paused, but a second glance told her otherwise. The man had her brother's hair, but he was taller, and his eyes were a dark indigo rather than lilac. "Aegon," he said to a woman nursing a newborn babe in a great wooden bed. "What better name for a king?" "Will you make a song for him?" the woman asked. "He has a song," the man replied. "He is the prince that was promised, and his is the song of ice and fire." He looked up when he said it and his eyes met Dany's, and it seemed as if he saw her standing there beyond the door. "There must be one more," he said, though whether he was speaking to her or the woman in the bed she could not say. "The dragon has three heads." He went to the window seat, picked up a harp, and ran his fingers lightly over its silvery strings. Sweet sadness filled the room as man and wife and babe faded like the morning mist, only the music lingering behind to speed her on her way.

There is much and more we do not know of this, as we are fed only the barest scraps, so this is analysis is admittedly quite speculative. "The dragon has three heads" is a repeated phrase, and Jorah compares it to the sigil of House Targaryen, created to symbolize Aegon, Rhaenys, and Visenya when they conquered Westeros. As such, he and Daenerys believe that because Dany hatched three dragons, each head of the dragon is a dragonrider. But in Rhaegar's time there were no dragons. It's possible he read scrolls about the dragons returning (as Aerys I did) but we can't be certain. What it actually means is not of importance here, but rather what Rhaegar thought it meant.

Recently we learned George is on record as saying that Aegon the Conqueror was a dreamer, and that it was what drove him to conquer Westeros. The dream was of the Long Night, and Aegon wanted to unify Westeros to be prepared for this existential threat. The fact "the dragon has three heads" is tied to the prince that was promised, and the new Westerosi banner of the Targaryens was a three headed dragon is not som ething to easily dismiss. Though House of the Dragon isn't book canon, it's got the best insight into what it might mean.

According to Viserys, the dream Aegon had was given a name; the song of ice and fire. Is this what Rhaegar is referring to? Aegon's dream? It might make sense. According to Ryan Condal, this plot point is going to come out at some point, which implies this will be revealed in the main plot. Was Aegon's dream written down as Daenys's were, but kept secret, locked away somewhere, their significance forgotten? Perhaps even the fact it was from Aegon was not a certainty? We can't know, but it would explain a few things.

Alternatively, the song of ice and fire was from a different source, such as the Rhoynish legend of the Long Night.

Lomas Longstrider, in his Wonders Made by Man, recounts meeting descendants of the Rhoynar in the ruins of the festival city of Chroyane who have tales of a darkness that made the Rhoyne dwindle and disappear, her waters frozen as far south as the joining of the Selhoru. According to these tales, the return of the sun came only when a hero convinced Mother Rhoyne's many children—lesser gods such as the Crab King and the Old Man of the River—to put aside their bickering and join together to sing a secret song that brought back the day.

The secret song of the Rhoynish may be the song of ice and fire, and given Rhaegar's wife Elia was a descendant of the Rhoynar it may have influenced his thinking. Yet this still does not answer what Rhaegar believed the three heads of the dragon meant. His firstborn daughter was named Rhaenys, and his firstborn son was named Aegon, two names of the conquerors. However, it doesn't make much sense that he was actually trying to recreate the original three heads. Visenya was the oldest, Rhaenys the youngest, so why wasn't she named Visenya?

Another theory is that Rhaegar was obsessed with naming one of his sons Aegon, but again, we have no indication of this. All the vision says is that Aegon is a good name for a king, and since he was Rhaegar's heir and Rhaegar was Aerys's. So of course he expected him to be king, and Aegon is the most common name for Targaryen kings. The idea that he felt he needed to have a son named Aegon no matter what seems like a gross misreading of what he's saying in the vision.

Rhaegar was called "the last dragon." From a literary standpoint, one can draw a line between the mention of "last dragon" and "the dragon's three heads." If this is true, Rhaegar was the dragon, and his children were the three heads. Mentioning Aegon as the prince that was promised and saying "there must be one more" points to this. If he was no longer the prince that was promised, then he may have wanted to focus more on preparing his children for the coming return of the Others and the War for the Dawn.

Another consideration to take in is the manner of Rhaegar's birth. He was born during the tragedy of Summerhall, where King Aegon V gathered his family to do a ritual to hatch dragon eggs. Instead, something went horribly wrong, and instead the palace burnt. The only survivors (that we know of) were Jaehaerys, Aerys, and Rhaella. Rhaella was pregnant at the time, and as the inferno reduced the palace to a hollowed, smoking husk, she gave birth to Rhaegar.

Jaehaerys II is an interesting figure to say the least. He was very much conservative compared to Aegon V's more progressive approach to Targaryen politics. Aegon wanted to do away with the tradition of incest, but Jaehaerys went ahead and married his sister Shaera, also breaking a betrothal with a Tully girl. One of Aegon's other sons, Prince Duncan, married the peasant girl Jenny of Oldstones. Jenny's best friend was a woods witch, and she may have had pertinent information on the prince that was promised, as Barristan tells Daenerys when talking about why her parents married.

"Why did they wed if they did not love each other?" "Your grandsire commanded it. A woods witch had told him that the prince was promised would be born of their line." "A woods witch?" Dany was astonished. "She came to court with Jenny of Oldstones. A stunted thing, grotesque to look upon. A dwarf, most people said, though dear to Lady Jenny, who always claimed that she was one of the children of the forest."

Rhaegar is far from the only one who was driven by prophecy, it would seem. If Barristan knew this, it's almost certain that Rhaegar did as well. This may have contributed to him believing he was the promised prince.

Rhaegar's birth had a profound impact on him. Though he was loved by all, those close to him knew that he was a melancholy person, and he was known to have visited the ruins of Summerhall.

"He was born in grief, my queen, and that shadow hung over him all his days." Viserys had spoken of Rhaegar's birth only once. Perhaps the tale saddened him too much. "It was the shadow of Summerhall that haunted him, was it not?" "Yes. And yet Summerhall was the place the prince loved best. He would go there from time to time, with only his harp for company. Even the knights of the Kingsguard did not attend him there. He liked to sleep in the ruined hall, beneath the moon and stars, and whenever he came back he would bring a song. When you heard him play his high harp with the silver strings and sing of twilights and tears and the death of kings, you could not but feel that he was singing of himself and those he loved."

Being born during a great tragedy is sure to have a big impact on someone. The ritual to hatch the dragon eggs failed, and countless lost their lives. It's no surprise something like that would leave one with a belief that this had to have happened for a reason, that their survival meant something. So him latching onto prophecy may have been one way of dealing with the trauma.

But another thing to note is that Rhaegar went alone. Entirely alone. Not even with the Kingsguard. All he brought was his harp. Summerhall was his quiet place where he could focus and be creative about his true passion; song. The woods witch who was a friend of Jenny's appears later in the main series, where she is said to have "gorge on grief" at Summerhall. One of her favourite songs that she always wants played to her is Jenny's song, of her dear friend she lost. Rhaegar could very well have met up with the witch and learned more about the prophecy from her. He may have even been the one who wrote Jenny's song.

As we've established, Rhaegar was not one eager for praise and glory. Fighting and war was not his passion, but a duty he felt had to be bestowed upon him by fate. His true love was for song and reading, for romance and love. I strongly believe he did not follow this prophecy out of ego, but rather to fill a part of his heart that was missing from Summerhall. He gave up on his own interests to fulfill a destiny he felt was preordained to him, to try to prepare to save the world from the complete annihilation of light and warmth and life. He was a doomed figure, whose destiny was only ever going to end in tragedy, yet he tried all the same.

Duty and Honour

Thus far I've been rather positive about Rhaegar. He has many positive qualities to him, and he appears to have been a good man who tried to do what he felt was necessary for the betterment of the world. But this is A Song of Ice and Fire. Characters are rarely that perfect and good. As noble as Rhaegar may have been, he was also human, imperfect and flawed, did good and bad things, and had passions that led to tragedy for many in Westeros.

Rhaegar did not marry Elia out of love. It was duty. After the failure to find a bride of pure Valyrian blood for him to marry in Essos, and the plan for Elia marrying Jaime Lannister dying with Joanna, Rhaegar eventually married Elia. Elia is noted as being frail and had many health issues, but was sweet and kind and witty. Their relationship has not been fully realized, but the little we do know paints it as a complex one.

"Princess Elia was there, his wife, and yet my brother gave the crown to the Stark girl, and later stole her away from her betrothed. How could he do that? Did the Dornish woman treat him so ill?" "It is not for such as me to say what might have been in your brother's heart, Your Grace. The Princess Elia was a good and gracious lady, though her health was ever delicate." Dany pulled the lion pelt tighter about her shoulders. "Viserys said once that it was my fault, for being born too late." She had denied it hotly, she remembered, going so far as to tell Viserys that it was his fault for not being born a girl. He beat her cruelly for that insolence. "If I had been born more timely, he said, Rhaegar would have married me instead of Elia, and it would all have come out different. If Rhaegar had been happy in his wife, he would not have needed the Stark girl."

"Her duty." The word felt cold upon her tongue. "You saw my brother Rhaegar wed. Tell me, did he wed for love or duty?" The old knight hesitated. "Princess Elia was a good woman, Your Grace. She was kind and clever, with a gentle heart and a sweet wit. I know the prince was very fond of her." Fond, thought Dany. The word spoke volumes. I could become fond of Hizdahr zo Loraq, in time. Perhaps.

George described their relationship similarly as "complex." The two did not love each other. They did not seem to hate each other, but there was no passion there. Dany compares her impending marriage to Hizdahr to Rhaegar's marriage to Elia, and marrying Hizdahr would be her doing her duty to the people rather than following her love.

Yet it cannot be forgotten the way Rhaegar did treat Elia. It may have been happy enough in the beginning, but I personally find it increasingly difficult to speak in defense of Rhaegar and his treatment of Elia as time goes on. It all starts at Harrenhal, when Rhaegar won the tournament.

Robert had been jesting with Jon and old Lord Hunter as the prince circled the field after unhorsing Ser Barristan in the final tilt to claim the champion's crown. Ned remembered the moment when all the smiles died, when Prince Rhaegar Targaryen urged his horse past his own wife, the Dornish princess Elia Martell, to lay the queen of beauty's laurel in Lyanna's lap. He could see it still: a crown of winter roses, blue as frost.

To anyone who says that the Dornish are fine with paramours and non-monogamy, and Elia might not have had any issue with this, here is what George himself said when providing feedback to an artist recreating this scene.

We’ve always imagined that the perfect image of the tourney at Harrenhal would kind of let you pick out all these figures in the stands, each with their different reactions when “the smiles died”. Jon Arryn and Robert and Lord Hunter joking a moment before what was happening dawned on them, Ned watching as Rhaegar was about to stop in front of his sister (who must have been seated quite close), mad Aerys glowering in the distance, Elia stiff-backed and trying to act as if nothing was wrong, Jon Connington probably looking vaguely sad (read: jealous), and so on.

That's not the reaction you have if you are okay with your husband passing you over for another woman. Non-monogamy, polyamory, that's one thing. Passing your wife and openly declaring for another women is just not that. Then of course you have arguably an event that helped contribute to war breaking out, which is Rhaegar's (alleged) kidnapping of Lyanna.

Rhaegar left his wife, his young daughter, and his newborn son all alone to elope with another woman. Elia could not have been happy about this. Rhaegar is one of my favourite characters, and I may have more than a slight crush on the guy, but even I have to admit this is not his finest hour. Elia was Rhaegar's duty, so it's not as though these two had a whirling epic romance. But both politically and personally, this is not how you treat your family. He didn't just abandon his wife, he abandoned his children. As reference, I would like to compare Rhaegar's struggles with love and duty with another character, one whose entire character could be defined by this; his son Jon Snow.

In A Dance with Dragons, Jon is stuck between two choices. The first is the love he has for his family, the desire to get vengeance for the wrongs done to them. The second is the duty he has sworn to the Night's Watch, to hold the Wall and prepare for the eventual invasion of the Others. He tries to ride a fine line between the two, but ultimately he gives into his desires, and chooses love by planning to go to war with Ramsay Bolton. He is then promptly killed by his officers for forsaking his vows.

This single action has yet to see its consequences, but none of it can be good. With Jon dead, peace between the Night's Watch and the free folk is very unlikely. War will break out and people will kill each other as the white walkers gain more strength and power outside the Wall. All the progress he has made, giving Alys Karstark sanctuary and promising her to a free folk husband, even the safety of Stannis's family, is at risk.

Jon is absolutely his fathers son. Rhaegar's duty is to be a faithful husband to Elia and a good father to their children, and to prepare the realm for the invasion of the Others. However, his love is for Lyanna, for song and romance. He tries to have it both ways; crowns Lyanna at Harrenhal, has another child with Elia. But in the end his heart won out, and he left Elia for Lyanna. Like Jon, this action led to a series of domino effects that led to open war, the death of his dynasty, and the death of Elia, his children, Lyanna, and finally himself.

Rhaegar may have been a mostly honourable, dutiful person, but he had a romantic, passionate side to him and his judgment was not always perfect. Like Jon, I do not believe Rhaegar ever thought his actions would lead to something this terrible. Jon did not think about what him dying would lead to. He believes he did not need his officers anymore. He was angry, disillusioned with the Night's Watch, and focused on revenge. It never entered his mind that the officers would kill him when he had just gotten the free folk to his side.

It's easy to say in hindsight that it would for Rhaegar, but characters are not omniscient. Running off without a word is reckless and impulsive, but it's not like they knew that Brandon would be similarly reckless, or that Aerys would do something as brazen and mad as executing Lyanna's father and brother without trial. Was it potentially short-sighted? Probably. Is it reasonable to assume they knew this series of events would happen and they didn't care? Not particularly. Characters are not readers.

A Love-Struck Prince

No discussion about Rhaegar is complete without Lyanna. The nature of their relationship is extremely contentious and the subject of much controversy. For one it is still not exactly clear with the published material if it was consensual, and even if it was, there is the rather concerning age-gap; Rhaegar as a young man, and Lyanna as a teenager. This discussion is not exactly one I'm comfortable with because it becomes a total shit-show so quickly. Either you call Rhaegar a pedophile and a rapist but conveniently ignore that Robert lusted after Lyanna as well, or you try to defend it by saying "it's just the times" (not true, medieval marriages were not this young).

What I'll say on the matter is that George definitely has an issue with what he considers romantic. He's been on the record as thinking that the wedding night between a 30-year old Khal Drogo and 13-year old Daenerys was a "consensual seduction," so I won't be surprised if he genuinely thinks this is a perfectly fine relationship. None of the ages in the books make sense, George knows he is bad at numbers. If we remember how young some of the characters are it gets to the point of ridiculousness and also makes literally every single character unsympathetic and terrible.

It's a massive flaw in an otherwise brilliant series. I personally use headcanon and death of the author for something like this, but not everyone does. That said, the fact that Lyanna was so young does leave the idea this was consensual a little unsettling to me. Yet, I also wholeheartedly believe that George is going to portray this as a consensual mutual, epic romance. The signs are literally everywhere.

We hear repeatedly about how Rhaegar loved Lyanna. Even Dany, who acknowledges that Rhaegar "kidnapped" her, thinks it was romantic. But the fact Rhaegar loves her is quite clear. The characters all universally agree (except Robert, of course) on this. However, it's not just because of what the characters say, characters can be wrong. George has called Rhaegar a "love-struck prince," and the companion World of Ice and Fire app (approved by Martin) says that in the Undying vision of Rhaegar dying, the name he whispers as he dies is "Lyanna."

But there is even more reason to believe this, and to believe that Lyanna also loved Rhaegar back. In fact, we have four different stories that all allude to Rhaegar and Lyanna, and provide insight into what we might expect. The first two come from the Dance of the Dragons, in Fire and Blood.

But we turn to Mushroom to find the tales other chronicles omit, nor does he fail us now. His account introduces a young maiden, or “wolf girl” as he dubs her, with the name of Sara Snow. So smitten was Prince Jacaerys with this creature, a bastard daughter of the late Lord Rickon Stark, that he lay with her of a night. On learning that his guest had claimed the maidenhead of his bastard sister, Lord Cregan became most wroth, and only softened when Sara Snow told him that the prince had taken her for his wife. They had spoken their vows in Winterfell’s own godswood before a heart tree, and only then had she given herself to him, wrapped in furs amidst the snows as the old gods looked on.

A Targaryen prince marries a Stark girl in secret before a heart tree out of love. Of course it's a Mushroom tale, and Mushroom is the Rudy Guliani of Westeros, but the idea this is supposed to harken back to Rhaegar and Lyanna is reinforced by the other secret marriage of the Dance; Aemond and Alys Rivers.

The “witch queen” of Harrenhal had proved to be none other than Alys Rivers, the baseborn wet nurse who had been the prisoner and then paramour of Prince Aemond Targaryen, and now claimed to be his widow. The boy was Aemond’s, she told the knight. “His bastard?” said Ser Regis. “His trueborn son and heir,” Alys Rivers spat back, “and the rightful king of Westeros.” She commanded the knight to “kneel before your king” and swear him his sword. Ser Regis laughed at this, saying, “I do not kneel to bastards, much less the baseborn whelp of a kinslayer and a milk cow.”

Alys Rivers claims to have the trueborn son of Aemond, which means they married. Her son is believed to be a bastard by everyone, not even a king, since nobody was really in witness to this marriage. Yet this does seem like foreshadowing for Jon's parentage eventually becoming public. Some people will simply laugh it out of court, or continue to call him a bastard, refuse to acknowledge him as king. But some people might also believe he actually is Rhaegar's trueborn son. Alys and Aemond in a way seem like dark mirrors of Lyanna and Rhaegar. Even the armour of Rhaegar and Aemond are described similarly, so this is definitely not accidental.

Seventeen and new to knighthood, Rhaegar Targaryen had worn black plate over golden ringmail when he cantered onto the lists.

Vhagar had come at last, and on her back rode the one-eyed prince Aemond Targaryen, clad in night-black armor chased with gold.

The third story might just about settle any debate on whether Rhaegar and Lyanna were both in love. This one comes directly from Jon's POV, which makes it especially significant.

"Well, long before he was king over the free folk, Bael was a great raider. The Stark in Winterfell wanted Bael's head, but never could take him, and the taste o' failure galled him. One day in his bitterness he called Bael a craven who preyed only on the weak. When word o' that got back, Bael vowed to teach the lord a lesson. So he scaled the Wall, skipped down the kingsroad, and walked into Winterfell one winter's night with harp in hand, naming himself Sygerrik of Skagos. Sygerrik means 'deceiver' in the Old Tongue, that the First Men spoke, and the giants still speak. North or south, singers always find a ready welcome, so Bael ate at Lord Stark's own table, and played for the lord in his high seat until half the night was gone. The old songs he played, and new ones he'd made himself, and he played and sang so well that when he was done, the lord offered to let him name his own reward. 'All I ask is a flower,' Bael answered, 'the fairest flower that blooms in the gardens o' Winterfell.' Now as it happened the winter roses had only then come into bloom, and no flower is so rare nor precious. So the Stark sent to his glass gardens and commanded that the most beautiful o' the winter roses be plucked for the singer's payment. And so it was done. But when morning come, the singer had vanished . . . and so had Lord Brandon's maiden daughter. Her bed they found empty, but for the pale blue rose that Bael had left on the pillow where her head had lain. Lord Brandon had no other children. At his behest, the black crows flew forth from their castles in the hundreds, but nowhere could they find any sign o' Bael or this maid. For most a year they searched, till the lord lost heart and took to his bed, and it seemed as though the line o' Starks was at its end. But one night as he lay waiting to die, Lord Brandon heard a child's cry. He followed the sound and found his daughter back in her bedchamber, asleep with a babe at her breast. They had been in Winterfell all the time, hiding with the dead beneath the castle. The maid loved Bael so dearly she bore him a son, the song says . . . though if truth be told, all the maids love Bael in them songs he wrote. Be that as it may, what's certain is that Bael left the child in payment for the rose he'd plucked unasked, and that the boy grew to be the next Lord Stark. So there it is—you have Bael's blood in you, same as me. The song ends when they find the babe, but there is a darker end to the story. Thirty years later, when Bael was King-beyond-the-Wall and led the free folk south, it was young Lord Stark who met him at the Frozen Ford . . . and killed him, for Bael would not harm his own son when they met sword to sword. When Lord Stark returned from the battle and his mother saw Bael's head upon his spear, she threw herself from a tower in her grief."

Very long quote, abridged somewhat, but very significant to Jon's backstory. Bael seemingly had kidnapped this Stark girl and raped her, and later got what he deserved when he is killed by a Stark lord. Except that Bael and the Stark woman were in love, as evidenced by the grief she felt when she learned he was dead. There is even Bael's son being raised as a Stark and not knowing who his true father was, just like with Jon.

Finally, we only need to look into the Targaryens a single generation prior to find more allusions to Rhaegar and Lyanna.

Aegon's eldest son Duncan, Prince of Dragonstone and heir to the throne, was the first to defy him. Though betrothed to a daughter of House Baratheon of Storm's End, Duncan became enamored of a strange, lovely, and mysterious girl who called herself Jenny of Oldstones in 239 AC, whilst traveling in the riverlands. Though she dwelt half-wild amidst ruins and claimed descent from the long- vanished kings of the First Men, the smallfolk of surrounding villages mocked such tales, insisting that she was only some half-mad peasant girl, and perhaps even a witch. It was true that Aegon had been a friend to the smallfolk, had practically grown up among them, but to countenance the marriage of the heir to the throne to a commoner of uncertain birth was beyond him. His Grace did all he could to have the marriage undone, demanding that Duncan put Jenny aside. The prince shared his father's stubbornness, however, and refused him. Even when the High Septon, Grand Maester, and small council joined together to insist King Aegon force his son to choose between the Iron Throne and this wild woman of the woods, Duncan would not budge. Rather than give up Jenny, he foreswore his claim to the crown in favor of his brother Jaehaerys, and abdicated as Prince of Dragonstone. Even that could not restore the peace, nor win back the friendship of Storm's End, however. The father of the spurned girl, Lord Lyonel Baratheon of Storm's End—known as the Laughing Storm and famed for his prowess in battle—was not a man easily appeased when his pride was wounded. A short, bloody rebellion ensued, ending only when Ser Duncan of the Kingsguard defeated Lord Lyonel in single combat, and King Aegon gave his solemn word that his youngest daughter, Rhaelle, would wed Lord Lyonel's heir.

Prince Duncan the Small, son of Aegon V, was betrothed to a Baratheon girl. He spurned her in favour of a girl who was known to wear flowers in her hair. The aggrieved Lord Baratheon rose in rebellion, and many died. Lyanna was betrothed to Lord Baratheon. She is noted to not have loved Robert, telling Ned that even if he loved her it would not change his nature. Ned also believes that Robert never really loved her, saying he only "saw her beauty, but not the iron underneath."

Lyanna is also known to have loved winter roses, and Jenny wore flowers in her hair. Her and Rhaegar disappearing led to an aggrieved Lord Baratheon rising in bloody rebellion. Duncan and Jenny married without anyones leave but their own, so this is the third love story with a secret marriage between Targaryen princes and women of First Men descent. It's rather quite in our face.

Finally, George Martin himself is a huge romantic, not a nihilist. Rhaegar simply kidnapping Lyanna, locking her up, having a magic prophecy baby via rape, and then dying with her name on his lips is not romantic, it's nihilistic. Besides, I do not believe that Rhaegar eloping with Lyanna was because of prophecy. In fact, and possibly hot take, but I think Rhaegar eloping with Lyanna because of prophecy ruins this dichotomy of love vs. duty that he shares with his son.

If he groomed Lyanna to be with him and have a magic child of prophecy to save the world, then that would be him doing his duty (as he would see it). Yet, we also know that Elia was his duty, so thematically it feels a bit strange for Rhaegar to abandon his duty so he could focus on... his duty again? Did prophecy maybe motivate his actions with Lyanna a little bit? Sure, but it was not the primary reason. Thematically it makes much more sense for George, a romantic, to have one of the reasons for Robert's Rebellion to occur because Rhaegar, a love-struck prince, foreswore his duty to others by choosing love for himself. In fact we see Barristan go through the many wars of Westeros and how many have been started by forbidden love, with Rhaegar and Lyanna being lumped in together with the rest.

Better for Daenerys, and for Westeros. Daenerys Targaryen loved her captain, but that was the girl in her, not the queen. Prince Rhaegar loved his Lady Lyanna, and thousands died for it. Daemon Blackfyre loved the first Daenerys, and rose in rebellion when denied her. Bittersteel and Bloodraven both loved Shiera Seastar, and the Seven Kingdoms bled. The Prince of Dragonflies loved Jenny of Oldstones so much he cast aside a crown, and Westeros paid the bride price in corpses. All three of the sons of the fifth Aegon had wed for love, in defiance of their father's wishes. And because that unlikely monarch had himself followed his heart when he chose his queen, he allowed his sons to have their way, making bitter enemies where he might have had fast friends. Treason and turmoil followed, as night follows day, ending at Summerhall in sorcery, fire, and grief.

Rhaegar did not simply do something like this because he was horny for Lyanna. As we've established, Ned believing Rhaegar never frequented brothels shows he is a man whose desires were ruled not by his libido, but by his heart. The best idea for why Rhaegar fell in love with Lyanna is that he discovered she was the Knight of the Laughing Tree. Wild, willful, beautiful, but iron underneath. Rhaegar loved and understood Lyanna more than Robert ever could or did.

The Wedding of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark

As briefly as I can (and I'm not good at being brief) I want to explain how Rhaegar and Lyanna wed, and address one of the most common pushbacks against the secret marriage theory. There are two ways in which Rhaegar could've married someone else. The first is via polygamy, with Lyanna as his second wife. This may make sense given there is historical precedent, but as we've seen, Rhaegar did care somewhat for going through proper channels. Polygamy would not be one such way to do it, and indeed the marriage would be seen as illegitimate on the face of it.

The other, presented by the TV show, and one that I favour, is that Rhaegar received an annulment from his marriage to Elia. Though there is this prevailing attitude that this would automatically make his children with Elia bastards, there is real life precedent where annulling a marriage with children did, in fact, not change their legitimate status.

Annulment of marriage does not currently change the status of legitimacy of children born to the couple during their putative marriage, i.e., between their marriage ceremony and the legal annulment of their marriage. For example, canon 1137 of the Roman Catholic Church's Code of Canon Law specifically affirms the legitimacy of a child born to a marriage that is declared null following the child's birth.

In addition, the daughters born from the marriage of Elaenor of Aquitaine and King Louis VII were not bastardized when they annulled their marriage.

On 21 March, the four archbishops, with the approval of Pope Eugene, granted an annulment on grounds of consanguinity within the fourth degree; Eleanor was Louis' third cousin once removed, and shared common ancestry with Robert II of France. Their two daughters were, however, declared legitimate. Children born to a marriage that was later annulled were not at risk of being "bastardised," because "[w]here parties married in good faith, without knowledge of an impediment, ... children of the marriage were legitimate."

Though the circumstances with Rhaegar and Elia are different, the precedent for such a thing is very much out there in the real world, and there's little to doubt that such a thing could occur in A Song of Ice and Fire. There are any number of grounds for an annulment between the two; Rhaegar could insist that because Elia cannot have anymore children, there is no point for the marriage to exist. He could also insist alongside this that King Aerys had arranged for the marriage in a fit of madness. Whatever the case, an annulment is not even close to as unreasonable as I've seen some fans argue it to be.

As to why an annulment would even happen in the first place, the reasons are both narrative and thematic. Jon Snow's true identity is a big mystery, and R+L=J is supposed to be the central mystery and big twist of the series. When George does twists, he does not pull any punches. Oberyn dies, Tyrion learns Tysha loved him and grows to hate his family. The Red Wedding does not simply kill off Robb, it kills off Catelyn as well in the most brutal ways possible, and Arya never gets to reunite with them.

Jon Snow's journey with identity is a massive part of the character. He is resentful of his bastard status, that his father never told him who his mother was. It would add to the drama and Jon's own angst that everything he believed about himself is a lie; Eddard Stark is not his father, he's not a bastard, he's got a claim to the Iron Throne, his name isn't even Jon.

My personal headcanon is that it isn't Rhaegar who comes up with the idea of an annulment, it's Elia. Elia has put up with Rhaegar's bullshit for so long, and now that he's preparing to meet with Lyanna, she's just had enough of excuses. Nothing that really points to this, but it's just a small headcanon that allows Elia some agency within the situation.

It is also my belief that Rhaegar and Lyanna's wedding was on the Isle of Faces. This is due to proximity from where Rhaegar and Lyanna met, as well as the fact it is a holy site for the old gods and would make a nice gift for Lyanna, a northwoman. It is also partly narrative, as it would allow someone (*cough* Bran *cough*) to see this and learn the truth behind their relationship. We also know that the Knight of the Laughing Tree story begins with Howland Reed visiting the green men on the Isle of Faces, which is out of place with the rest of the story, and also that George has confirmed the Isle of Faces will come to the fore in later books.

The Dragon's Morality

So, throughout this essay, I have wished to address some of the points about Rhaegar's character, to answer the ultimate question of whether or not Rhaegar is a good person. It's a hard question to answer for someone whose story is not even known and whose characterization is intentionally vague and mysterious. But looking at the totality, is Rhaegar more good than bad, bad than good, or equal parts good and bad?

He was kind, won friends easily, talented, dutiful, honourable, valiant. He tried to fulfill a prophecy that would seek to save humanity from the threat of existential annihilation, did not seek glory for himself or take joy in fighting and wars. He attempted to try and remove his mad and evil father from power. He was passionate and romantic, and loved music and books.

On the other hand, he also publicly insulted his wife Elia and later abandoned her and their children to elope with another woman. He did so without telling anyone, which led to a domino effect that led to tragedy for him and everyone he knew, along with many others. But how much responsibility does Rhaegar have in starting Robert's Rebellion? Was him crowning Lyanna queen of love and beauty the one inciting incident? Was him running off with Lyanna? Was it Brandon riding to the Red Keep and shouting for Rhaegar to come out and die? Or was it Aerys burning him and Rickard alive without trial and demanding the heads of the other Starks, Arryns, and Baratheons?

Personally speaking, I don't think any one of these, including his and Lyanna's disappearance, was the cause of the war. Instead, all of them together was the cause for war. Isolated none of these events on their own caused the rebellion, but all together they did. As George said himself...

"The Kingdom was unified with dragons, so the Targaryen's flaw was to create an absolute monarchy highly dependent on them, with the small council not designed to be a real check and balance. So, without dragons it took a sneeze, a wildly incompetent and megalomaniac king, a love struck prince, a brutal civil war, a dissolute king that didn't really know what to do with the throne and then chaos."

I believe that Rhaegar is a grey character, albeit a lighter shade of grey. He is a tragic figure destined for doom but attempting to fight it. He wanted to do things for the betterment of the world, knew of the great threat coming in the Long Night, attempted to find a way to remove a literal monster from the throne, and sacrificed much to do his duty in these events. His intentions were good, and he never did anything maliciously.

But his flaw was his passion. He put aside his love for song and books to become a warrior that Westeros needed. He did his duty and gave Elia, a woman he did not love, two children, even after courting Lyanna publicly. Yet in the end, his own desires and his heart could not be stayed, and he suffered for it.

Jon Snow is the same way. Sacrificing his family, his home, his lover, all to protect the world. But he failed just as Rhaegar did, and suffered for it. Daenerys too has done this. She sacrificed her throne, her home, her own lover, her morals, even her own dragons, to keep the people he had freed from the bonds of slavery safe. And just like Rhaegar, she too could not keep to it in the end, giving up Meereen, deciding it is time to use her dragons and make west. How this will go for her is a matter of debate, but I imagine she will similarly suffer consequences from it.

Rhaegar isn't a villain. He's a tragic hero.

[zeherili-ankhein]

Bestie pls explain the plot of Kalki 2898 AD to me I'm dying to know 😭😭

Ok soooo.... Also sorry if this is too long cuz I'm getting as much as details I can possibly remember. Chhote se chhota detail.. and also I'll try to be as neutral as possible but don't mind if some of my own judgements starts to face...

Also I watched the hindi dub so if I quote any dialogues they'll be hindi...

SOILER ALERT FOR EVERYONE ELSE and some tw

To start with,

At first we're shown Uttara, then the Mahabharat scenes (which I had actually missed cuz I entered the hall just in time to see Krishna entering the screen...) of (face less) Krishna cornering A.B's Ashwatthama and cursing him... Then telling to wait for Kalki to come.

Now,

There's this dystopia/post apocalyptic kinda setting and the only remaining city is Kashi. And in Kashi, there's this high society thing called Complex. That's like the only building with everything good in it, because they basically take everything and put in there, and baki sab bahar gareebi mein ji rha hai.

On the first scene we're introduced to this young *boy* and *boy*'s brother traveling with some other people from their village to settle in Kashi, and a young girl was really ill and her most probably big brother or father starts asking for some water as she starts coughing very badly. And this old sus looking man, offers some because no one else did (might be because they didn't even have water with them...)

So now young *boy* and *boy*'s curious brother (who's a lil piece of shit I tell you in advance) ask sus grandpa what he's doing there, and they have a small conversation where *boy* says “yeah Kashi the last remaining city” and grandpa says “na Kashi the first ever city”. Then gramps asks *boy* 'if they are brother and sister?' to which *boy* gets offended and just goes of with usual 'dikhta nahi hai kya' and stuff... To which grandpa just nods and looks outside the vehicle (which looks like a literal cage) and says “hum sab ka paap dhote dhote sukh gayi kya maa...”

Next scene they have arrived in Kashi.

And some... I'd call them thugs typa people, who 'unofficially' work for the complex because if you hand over the bounty(s) and/or women that are “fertile” you will be rewarded units and if you have collected an amount of units you can go and stay at the Complex which in this world, given the situations is nothing less than reaching heavens...

So now this thugs are separating the males and the females without telling the newcomers why they are doing that... And they starts to use some device which they hold against everyone's lower abdomen area and if it goes red they're male thus the thugs leave them alone. But if it's green it means they are female and they are taken.

The young ill girl from earlier was kind of hidden by her gaurdian, but when they put that device near her and started to pull her to take her with them and gaurdian guy basically starts begging them to not take her.

The leader thug explains why they want to take the women as it will give them a lot of units. So now lil shit brother says he'll give them a girl and starts to piont where *boy* was standing, and it's revealed the boy was actually a girl named Raya, who was just under the guise of being a boy.

Now a fight breaks out between sus grandpa and thugs where it is further revealed grandpa is one of the “rebels” who are the only ones to know where Shambhala is and stay there, waiting for Kalki.

In this fight some of the other rebels also join in and we see another woman (Mrunal Thakur) hiding who nearly got caught by the thugs. Grandpa saves her and kind of temporarily hides under the tunnels, where we see get to see the “rebels”.

They bring out the hologram call device to make grandpa communicate with another party of “rebels” consisting of an grumpy middle aged man Veeran, an equally grumpy guy (whose name I forgot) and a sunshine girl Kyra. Who tells grandpa that Mariem is waiting for him and connects the call with this lady called Mariem, who's in Shambhala. They give Raya a gemstone to keep.

Grandpa and her were conversing about grandpa returning to Shambala, when the thugs again attack them and capture him and Mrunal.

They are showed infront of this general kinda guy (Saswata Chatterjee) I forgot his name... Who basically tells grandpa to either give Mrunal to him or reveal where's Shambhala. Grandpa refuses but gets pressurized, but even Mrunal tells grandpa to not tell general guy anything saying she doesn't want her child to be born in such a shitty world. So General guy kills both Mrunal and Grandpa infront of everyone.

And spots the other rebels who had manages to run away earlier and sends the thugs and his own men after them.

One of the rebels gets cornered by the thug leader and his paltan because he now has a large sum of bounty on his head.

Where we are introduced to this A.I vehicle called Bujji who basically claims that rebel guy for herself and her master, a bounty hunter who works for non sides. For whom she kinda does a big ahh intro, only for that guy to be a complete lazy idiot. Now Bhairava (Prabhas' character) after a lot of cliche not gonna fight serious-fight serious drama later manages to make the thugs go away... Atleast for now.

Bhairava becomes kind of a hero for the rebel guy, who starts innocently wow-ing over him and asks him to join the rebels.

Bhairava refuses and tells he's trying to get inside the Compound for a very long time and is collecting the units, and will hand over rebel guy (but he doesn't and just keeps him handcuffed to where he stays on rent)

Now scene changes and we are shown the insides of the Complex and the women that are held captive over there.

Experiments are done on them to see who could get pregnant. Those who gets are given good food and facilities to stay, but they do not let the babies get born. Because they are basically getting the womens pregnant to keep the embryo for atleast 100 days and then they will extract it in a form of a “Serum” for the main boss Supreme Yaskin (which is just Kali)

But nobody is able to survive more than 3 months so whenever they try to extract the “Serum” at the maximum days (which is still less than 100) everyone just dies..

Now, the “unfertile” women who couldn't get pregnant, maybe because of some failed experiments or so... Are kept as kind of slaves who don't get nice food and just helps around the pregnant womens...

And we get to know one of them (Deepika's character) from up close. She helps one of the pregnant ladies, who warns her that being pregnant over there is not a nice experience...

(call me a failure every time I say the word pregnant...)

Now general guy comes and kind of yells on some of the scientists saying 'The Supreme' has called him that day to update on the ‘Project K’'s “Serum” but as we know nobody was/is able to survive the entire time period, and the highest days are by far is just 80. That's the woman Deepika's character was helping.

So they starts doing the extraction process on her and she dies...

NOW, we get to know that Deepika's character – SUM 80 is actually pregnant... That also for MORE THAT 5 MONTHS! which is ofcourse beyond anyone have survived till now... Indicating that child in the womb is ofcourse special... And we understand that's Kalki. But she's just hiding it well under her long black clothes...

On the meantime we're introduced to another character named 'Professor' Bani, who's like the right hand man of Yaskin. He takes general guy and scientist dude (who wanted to meet Yaskin himself to clear his doubts about ‘Project K’ himself.. because not even general guy knows wtf is ‘Project K’) to where Yaskin is.

Yaskin is in some kind of globe type place with water on the floor and he's just dangling in the air doing something like meditation and stuff..

Basically what happens is scientist was kind of a good guy and gets killed by Yaskin because he tried to attack him..

Now back to SUM 80, another one of the girls snitch on her after knowing she's pregnant, to a guard who had previously threatened to assault SUM 80...

And the scientists take her extract the “Serum” but only one drop was extracted when we get to know that snitch girl – Lily is actually a rebel undercover who now destroyed the wires to save pregnant SUM 80, cuz it was just too brutal for her.

So Lily sacrifices her life and makes an way to let SUM 80 escape.. she had also called for that previous rebel party let by grumpy Veeran to take SUM 80 away from there..

But there was a fire before the main escape so, somehow mysteriously SUM 80 escapes the fire but the guards trying to catch her become crisps..

Veeran and his team takes in a scared SUM 80 in their ship to take her to Shambhala, as instructed by Mariem. Because everyone (Shambhala peoples and rebels) kinda knows now that that's Kalki in her womb.

.

ALSO now SUM 80 has the biggest bounty on her head... So yeah ofcourse Bhairava and the other thugs are gonna try to catch her (seperately ofcourse..)

*I didn't tell this before because it wasn't really important but Bhairava tried to break in the Complex with his friend Roxie (Disha Patani's character who's in love with Bhairava) who works there. But he was thrown away so now he wants to get inside even more...

.

Kyra becomes super excited and starts to chatter with SUM 80, who she kindly gives a name Sumati (sounding like SUM 80) after knowing she never had a name..

We get to know Kyra and that other grumpy guy are engaged and are planning to get married once they get back to Shambhala..

But right then, they are attacked by the thugs with who while fighting unfortunately Kyra dies... And like dies in the way they can't even retrieve her body back... cuz she falls down the ship and they can't stop at anything..

And when they are again trying to run, another person gets introduced...

So remember Raya? While she was being chased by the Complex gaurds earlier, she runs a little outside Kashi. But before she could get caught she falls and hides inside a temple. There when the guards tried to find and take her, a big guy suddenly gets somewhat like awakened and takes the gemstone from Raya and puts it on his forehead.

And then Ashwatthama basically beats the shit out of everyone and saves Raya, with whom he has communication problems and language gap of over 6000 years...

Back to rebels and Sumati, when Bhairava tried to kidnap her. That was the moment ‘Ashwa uncle’ as Raya calls him, comes and both of them had a big 1 on 1 fight moment... Ofcourse after Ashwatthama beats up the gaurds and thugs.. to protect Sumati. (Because that's his purpose now as Krishna told him after cursing him back then)

This is Bhairava vs an 8 feet tall 6000 something year old guy who has fought in Mahabharat ka yudh...

But surprisingly Bhairava gave a nice challenge, he lost though..

The weapon we see Ashwatthama fighting with is somewhat a – tall similar to his height – danda.

*Another scene we see, is of that Bani guy with some fellow gaurds discovering an Dhanush in the middle of nowhere, which neither any human nor machine was able to touch... So he somehow takes with him to his office (we're never shown how)*

Now leaving behind, a defeated Bhairava, Kyra and her memories along with the young couple's dream of a future together... Veeran, Sumati, Raya and Ashwatthama reaches Shambhala.

Where Mariem welcomes them and tells Sumati that they have been waiting for her – Maa – for so so long... A person tries to protest that Sumati cannot be Maa. But at that exact moment we see it raining after A VERY long period of time.

*simultaneously in Kashi, Bhairava while fighting some thugs (after he was forever banned from the Compound because thug leaders blammed him for Sumati's escape..) catches one of the old mandir's Rath's paiya structure that was falling down because of thunder striking it. While an old man who have a Kaal Bhairav murti with him... Says some dialogue about him remember the murti with him was Kaal Bhairav the protector of Kashi..*

So now everyone accepted that Sumati is Maa, and takes care of her and tells her how her child is supposed to save the world.. she at first gets scared but after Ashwatthama explains everything she listens and stays hidden inside a BIG tree with him...

Now we get to know that Danda is actually Karna's Vijaya Dhanush (idk man I think I made a mistake with the time and scenes but whatever)

*We're basically over her shown another flashback of Raya asking Ashwa uncle if he was the strongest warrior in Kurukshetra... And him saying “Karna was the strongest” *

With a flashback of Arjun (Vijay Deverakonda) basically dishing Karna (in an arrogant way nontheless) and Krishna saying to reconsider his words as Karna was better.... And he was only winning because he has Rath given by Agnidev, Pavan putra Hanuman on his flag and all...

(I personally found that very illogical and very wrong and have been yelling about that since... Even on Tumblr)

So now we go back to Bhairava, who we get to know made a deal would bring back both Sumati and Ashwatthama, as he was the only one who was able to fight him, in exchange of getting inside the Compound.

He spends all his unit repairing his vehicle and A.I Bujji (which was crumpled by Ashwatthama) and tricking that rebel fanguy he had captured into believing he's finally siding with the rebels and to take him to Shambhala..

But once inside Shambhala, Bhairava basically beats up everybody and tries to reach Sumati again, resulting in another fight between Ashwatthama and him.

Here, that general guy is called upon by Bani and informed of the Dhanush they have found. Bani tells him that how that Dhanush was made by Srishtikarta Bhrahmadev himself and given to Arjun. He tells how nobody was able to touch the Gandiva.

General guy refused to believe in the theory of Kalki is coming but Bani insists... With proves like Ashwatthama, the rain and all.

Back at Shambhala, before anything can settle... General had already found the place and attacked resulting in a full blown fight between both parties, where he kills Mariem.

While everyone is busy fighting eachother Bhairava and Ashwatthama were still going at eachother but now with Sumati almost caught Ashwatthama is forced to save her. Which doesn't really go well, as Bhairava continues being a little bitch and keeps on attacking Ashwatthama...

At a point of time, when Sumati was about to fall down from a bridge, Bhairava finally lends an hand and pulls her up.

And we are shown another scene of the Vijaya Dhanush now danda going to Bhairava's hand and him defending Ashwatthama who was on a verge of attack, and saying something like “aane mein der to nahi huya na Acharya putra?” with another flashback of Mahabharat with same to same dialogue against Arjun-Krishna and a fallen on the ground Ashwatthama..

(I actually forgot how exactly these entire scene played out... Forgive me)

Then Bhairava basically kills the general by throwing Vijaya Dhanush so hard on him it impaled him and made him fall down from his flying vehicle..

But just then he's back to being Bhairava, out of his Karna fever and again forcefully takes Sumati with him on his own Vehicle and leaves Shambhala burning behind as Sumati keeps begging him not to take her to the Complex.

All while an helpless Ashwatthama stands there starring and Raya comes from behind to join him...

Now as the last scene (not post credit because it's shown before post credit) we see Bani giving Yaskin that one drop of “Serum” they were able to extract from Sumati's womb and him injecting that in himself and becoming more strong... Kyuki pehle wo thoda bohot Voldemort jaisa dikh rha tha.. ab ganja Thanos lag rha hai

And him picking up... Gandiva... Yeah... Gandiva...

Lo I explained it hehe also sorry if it is not clearly explained

“films are harder to explain as it is easier to understand” — my mass media teacher telling us to write an essay

[mdhwrites]

What do you think about the four most popular ships in Amphibia (Sashanne, Sasharcy, Marcanne, and Sashannarcy)? Even if shipping and romance aren’t that important and only used to teach a lesson or for a comedy episode, it’s pretty obvious that the relationship between the girls can be seen either as platonic or romantic.

So I'm going to first give my one sentence thoughts on each by concept and then canon before going in deep on this:

Sashanne: A unique dynamic that is actually very context specific so hard to actually recreate and I'd argue most people don't even try or get close in fan works (myself included)/I do like them but I 100% think they needed a couple years to figure out their lives away from each other or else post Amphibia they would have likely become toxic in a new way.

Sasharcy: Classic nerd and popular pairing/FUCKING NONEXISTENT.

Marcanne: A bit more nuanced since it's much more the slacker and the passionate one as far as a dynamic goes but not in the way you expect./Held back by a lot more tell don't show, especially in the first couple episodes that Marcy is introduced but it's cute and you can EASILY see how this whole trip will have made Anne be able to appreciate her oldest friend more.

Sashannarcy: In concept these are actually a GREAT polyamory trio and I love that it has such mainstream appeal with a fandom/I don't think it works from the show's perspective because of how well defined Sasha and Anne's relationship is while Marcy struggles to have a presence.

In case you didn't notice a running theme, these ships have essentially the same problem as my greatest problem with the show: Marcy. Her weaker writing compared to the rest of the cast and the fact that she serves a narrative role more than she acts as her own character makes it hard for me to be compelled by her canon self in ships. It's akin to why Willow and Hunter don't appeal to me from a shipping perspective. I like characters, not plot devices. Yes, Marcy is better than both of those characters as she actually has a firmer character than either but that doesn't fix that her narrative utility comes before who she is most of the time.

The other big element that maybe has always held me back from shipping them in canon once I watched the show is actually the fact that I agree with the show: As teenagers, they were AWFUL for each other. Marcy needs her own, personal strength that she found some of in Amphibia but needs to actually put to use in the real world. Sasha brutally changed so much of herself and was clearly struggling with that, over correcting or still wanting to run even to the end. She asks if it's okay for her to abandon Marcy after all, even after she's gone so far to make up to Anne as to give up ALL power in her life which isn't healthy either. Anne is the closest to being ready for a relationship after Amphibia but Sprig's Birthday/Give a Frog a Cookie showed that her self sacrificing tendency for her friends and her desperation for approval still. She may do it for better people than for Sasha but she is still struggling.

They all just need time to figure themselves out as people because your relationships SHOULD NOT DEFINE YOU. That's kind of part of the point of the ending. Take the good and grow as a person, whether you lose someone by choice or by circumstance. That includes for the trio as friends or romantically.

Okay, but I did mention something potentially quite controversial which is my Sashanne take. See... Their dynamic in most fandom works is the overzealous, brash one versus the patient, more responsible one with Sasha and Anne respectively. That is accurate post Amphibia but it also carries NONE of their baggage and usually leans a lot more on Sasha's tomboy nature instead of the fact that Sasha is a girl who can both kick your ass and then worry about having chipped a nail. The complexities of Sashanne that make it so compelling in the show just don't show up as much except as an obstacle to get over to get together. That works for shipping but it's not why their friendship is as complicated and interesting as it is in the show. It doesn't have the punch it should and it's damn near impossible to replicate because that level of history is hard to depict. It only functions in the show as being well depicted because of how much time is spent essentially breaking Anne out of Sasha's control, which is part of it. Anne is someone who pretty much left a cult and Sashanne is her having to decide to now be with her cult leader but not slip back into the mentality the cult taught her. That's... not easy to put it mildly.

But then again, a lot of people just take Sasha and Anne working together for a greater cause to mean they have literally no issues anymore despite Sasha's Angels existing. I guess that happens when somehow the entire fandom doesn't give a fuck about Amphibia but only the trio. sigh

Let's end this on a positive note though which is that if I am so rough on essentially all the Sasha relationships for needing time for Sasha to genuinely internalize her lessons, Marcy is the opposite. While I complained about her above, the strength to the fact that she's a pretty well defined, nice character who can be used mostly to support others arcs is that she more neatly fits into a position for shipping. Her awkwardness and nerdiness is PRIME romance fodder (there's a reason a shocking amount of romantic protagonists are clumsy but that's for a different blog) and her passion makes it easy to understand why someone would want to be with her.

And I do want to say some thoughts on Marcanne. Even if they start on a rough place with more tell instead of show, it actually does kind of work in this context. A complaint I've had about other relationships is not actually knowing what the other is interested in their partner for besides "That's the hot one." There is ZERO ambiguity here. Marcy likes Anne because of her compassion, something she probably has worried about wearing out herself. Anne has always appreciated Marcy's intelligence but Amphibia has made her understand Marcy's passion far better than she did before and Anne clearly actually is into that now that she better cares about others properly. This also clearly shows their chemistry as we know the strengths and weaknesses each of them cover for the other, though not perfectly as they're both still human and the same things they admire in the other can cause anxiety and worry in themselves from comparing themselves to their partner. Marcy in Wartwood and Scavenger Hunt are all it takes for all of this to come out and it leads to more romantic chemistry, and a genuinely dynamic look at what they could be, than a lot of romance movies manage in their entire runtime.

In conclusion, I like all of them in general. In practice, I find most of them deeply compelling within the show. It's just... It doesn't drive me to want to write them during the show romantically because I agree with the show. They're complicated, both as a trio and as themselves, and they probably could use a more solid ground for themselves before they really start working on each other.

And that is honestly even better to me because it just makes them all the more interesting.

======+++++======

For anyone curious why I didn't talk about Sashannarcy at all despite literally being a polyamory writer, it's because I kind of wanted to keep it to the ships that I think are properly represented in the show and Marcy and Sasha get essentially zero time together to try and form a relationship beyond "Marcy thinks Sasha is really fucking cool while Sasha barely gives Marcy the time of day if she's not also giving attention to Anne." The theoretical would be fun to talk about but it's pretty much only the theoretical and I decided to keep the blog more focused on the practical.

Also had a moment after this of going "Huh. I wonder how much of me being demiromantic is playing a part in how I see these.?

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

[littlethingwithfeathers]

I'm grumpy about Silent Hill again...

TW for discussions of suicide, self harm, abuse (both parent to child and amongst peers) and general spookiness. Y'know... the usual Silent Hill rigmarole of trauma and despair. Also be warned that I'm going to spoil a lot of the Silent Hill series, in particular Silent Hill 2 and the Short Message game that just came out. ***

So... one of my most popular posts out there is this one. It's about Pyramid head and the loss of subtlety in media. And I couldn't help but feel like we hadn't moved an inch from when I posted that back in... *checks date on post* hrrk. my bones... 2017. I'm going to die soon. Anyway. Today I watched Second Wind do a run of the short, free-to-play Silent Hill: Short Message. I admittedly had a good bit of trepidation going in just because of the marketing. Which, for all of you marketing majors out there, that is called "Not a good sign." Marketing should make you want to play a game... especially if you're a fan of the series already. But this... it was a bit of a wet blanket, largely due to the fact that it spoiled a lot of the focus of the game. It basically said "this is a game about how bullying and being chronically online is real bad. We're gonna be spooky about it now." And... straining to push aside how incredibly reductive that is... why give it away? Why say it out loud? Why did you tell us what you are doing? Can you imagine Silent Hill 2 if we'd known it was about James killing his wife from the jump? We didn't. We hadn't the first clue. We knew nothing other than that he was looking for her and she was maybe dead? But we didn't know how... possibly lung cancer or TB given that she had the most pointed coughing sequence since the movie Tombstone. And hey... the last game had someone looking for a loved one too. Maybe that's the deal with Silent Hill. Who knows? No one did at that point. It was still a big old mystery for the most part. And then the E3 trailer... like there's the weird pretty lady in jail? But what's she talking about? Who the fuck is Mary? Is that... his wife? Well then who the hell is Ms. Miniskirt? No wait... is that his wife in the VHS tape? What the hell is going on? Oh look gameplay! And... a little girl? And a weird guy with a gun... This soundtrack slaps. I'm gonna go see if it's up on Napster yet. (this was 2001... again... my bones etc) I remember combing over low-res copies of that video for HOURS when it came out. Why are the nurses different? It's not snowing? Who are all these people... And why do they all sound like they put ketamine in their coffee. It was like a great big puzzle to work out and we had a ball theorizing and researching so when it came out we were HYPE. And that was largely because in short... we knew SOME things at release. Fog. Nurses. Big stick. Weird people. Banger soundtrack. Dead (but probably not) wife. And we presumed or supposed more... cult activity? New beasties? Radio maybe? But we effectively knew nothing about the plot. And the best part was, while they had a solid hook (Find dead lady who we love so huggy buggy much) and instant intrigue (Angela in the cemetery being weirder than a film by David Lynch), and a very familiar setting (we may have improved draw distance on the PS2, but we don't have to use it!), we still didn't really know what was going on. The plot was essentially unfolding out of a black box. Silent Hill 2 was quite content to be a slower burn than trying to boil the Lake Superior with a signal flare. You don't even see the main "villain" Pyramid Head until a few hours in and, as I pointed out in that other post, there's no flashy cut scene to introduce him and go WOOOOOO SCARYYYYY. He's just chillin' behind some prison bars (which that totes is normal in an apartment complex) and staring at you like I stare at the inside of my fridge when I really would like some cheese to materialize.

And then... like we're not even really sure what the hell is going on for the longest time. We meet our wife's hot twin with the key to a strip club and she keeps getting killed over and over... and things keep getting increasingly rapey and lewd in a way that's just uncomfortable more than anything... But even at the end. Even with the big reveal of "You killed your wife." they still don't ever explicitly state "And you killed her because you couldn't have sex with her anymore." It wasn't until you finished the game, and talked to someone else about it, or let your brain cook on it for a bit that you went... heyyyy... he's a horndog! (In fact... if I'm going to chide SH2 for anything it's that right at the very VERY end they tried to frame James's actions as understandable because the woman who was dying and frightened and in pain was mean to him. Yes, being a caretaker is hard. But Christ... pick a topic for discussion.) But contrast all that with Short Message. The marketing and such all said out loud "THIS IS ABOUT BULLYING" so even going in... I was already like "yep. The bully is probably us, but we had reasons because we have to be complicated and you aren't allowed to make the player feel bad" And lo was I correct. There was no... intrigue. I was never curious about the character or the people around her because I knew this story. They already told me what story they were telling so I could practically sing along, especially as a millennial that had to grow up watching little videos and skits in school about the evils of bullying. And when you are going to tell a trope-ish story, and you tell the audience what the trope is, it becomes "say the line" writ large. This isn't me advocating for super twisty unexpected plot arcs (looking at you, Supernatural). Far from it. You absolutely should tell a story in such a way that the audience understands how you got from point A to point Z, even if there are some surprises along the way (See Sixth Sense for that masterclass). Rather, what I'm missing from this (and frankly a lot of the Silent Hill games and honestly... media in general these days) is a sense of restraint. A sense of trust in their audience to "get it." They can't just plonk us in the fog with a radio and a stick and say "You're here to find your best friend/dog/cousin/wife/business partner. Good luck. Here's a weirdo to prattle cryptically at you in order to unsettle you immediately. Bye!" No! They have to tell us what kind of story they're telling and what themes are important. They can't just... give us a Silent Hill Game and trust that we know what to do with it. It's... insulting frankly. Especially as a longtime fan of the franchise who remembers when they did trust us and they did have faith in their work. I will say this in compliment to Short Message. The environment design was pretty cool. Especially the sticky-note hallways... they looked like leaves... and sometimes teeth... and like tightly packed bones in an ossuary. It didn't... say anything really. But it looked cool. And you can't go wrong with Akira Yamaoka's soundtrack. But... while I'm on the subject of design. Y'all. An animate sakura tree in an oversized hoodie is not scary. But bless you for at least having the restraint to not make her Pyramid Head.