#i WoulD FORFEIT MY LIFE SAVINGS FOR IT

[miothle]

Harbinger of DRIP🐳✨

[alternis]

the provlem is I think logistically it makes the most sense for third eye tim to rebel and leave Shiva if she'd placed him in a scenario where he had to kill somebody to save his own life and

(because he wasn't trained by batman and had less knowledge of subduing foes safely, and he's used to sparring shiva who can redirect or block lethal attacks, and the guy was genuinely stronger than him and trying to kill him)

he's cocky and overconfident about his skills, assumes he can find a third way out of the situation, but the other guy ended up dead.

7however I do not want to jack cass's exceptional backstory swag nor do I want to undermine Tim's own commitment to nonlethal violence, and desire to help even those who seem irredeemable. much to think about

[mari-lair]

We are told at the very start of the manga that "if you want to know a person, you need to find out what makes them angry"

So I want to talk about Gon, and what makes him angry.

Gon is hard to anger, especially for a kid: He wasn't angry at his dad for abandoning him and never visiting, he wasn't angry at Mito for lying that his parents died, he wasn't angry when Leorio made everyone lose 50 hours at the trick tower despite revealing later in Hanzo's fight that his hope to meet his 'amazing hunter dad' would vanish if couldn't finish the exam on his first try like Ging did (there is no "better luck in the next exam" for Gon), he never gets jealous when Killua shows more strength or knowledge than him even though they are the same age and he used to be very powerful on his little island, and so on.

But is not hard for Gon to get angry for the ones he loves and admires: Be it angry for their safety or about people disrespecting their wishes.

His anger is stronger when his friend's lives are at risk, their safety triumphs over his wish to respect what they want.

But he doesn't care about his own life.

He is never angry when people hurt him. As Hanzo had put it, even injuries as severe as broken bones don't matter to Gon.

But Gon was visibly frustrated in Hanzo's fight.

He wants to win. And he wants to be the one to win not for Hanzo to forfeit. He wants proof that he is strong and capable and worthy of being in the last phase, aware he was only here because Hisoka let him pass.

The only person Gon feels any anger towards at the end of the exam is himself for being a hunter but not feeling like he is worth it of the title.

Gon is always the most angry at himself.

When Kite kills a foxbear, punching Gon for trespassing in their territory, Gon isn't angry at him or the fox bear that attacked him, he puts the full blame on himself and tries to make up for it by raising Kon.

When Killua goes 'back home' he gets angry at Illumi for making Killua do things he doesn't want, but he also blames himself for not being there for Killua when his fight with Illumi happened.

Similarly, his instinct when he learned, without a doubt, that Kite is beyond saving, was to blame himself.

He isn't thinking about Pitou, isn't even seeing them, blinded by Kite and his own guilt.

This quest for 'revenge' was never about Pitou, it was always about healing Kite. And since Pitou can't heal the dead, Gon blames himself, he is angry at himself.

Pitou is the one that killed him. Killua was the one that was terrified by Pitou's aura and knocked Gon unconscious to run. Kite was the one that told them to run. Gon is far from the "reason kite died" but he loves and respect Kite and Killua, so he obviously doesn't see anything wrong, he never once blames Killua for what happened.

In fact... He had thanked him

And Gon is genuinely grateful here.

It breaks my heart how much he loves and trusts his friends, eager to share all his good times and victories with them. Wanting them by his side always, no matter how personal his journey is.

But when something bad happens he wants to 'make it better' alone. Is never "we will fix this" is always "I will", because he doesn't want to trouble them, be it by his own emotions, or outside dangers.

Gon never blames his friends, so he is the one responsible when bad things happen, the only one that needs to fix any problem. And if death is a risk, he will immediately assign the lethal job to himself, and himself only.

Gon isolates himself when things get hard but he still doesn't want to be alone. He craves company and support more than ever when he is hurt.

But he doesn't like to feel weak or helpless, so asking for help or opening up is extremely hard. He mostly just gets angry at himself for feeling how he feels and refuse to make it someone else's problem.

He didn't cry after stealing Hisoka's badge but he was feeling helpless and unworthy so he sucked it up and went to do better, it was only after Kurapika asked directly if he was okay that he lowered his walls and found himself crying.

He is just a kid, he can't process his self hate, frustration, or guilt well, and his way to feel better is to help others, be useful and powerful. But sometimes that's not enough, or he simply can't help.

So he constantly finds himself in situations where he gets injured, physical pain is something that he is more used to, that it's easier to process: He let a foxbear cub claws his shoulders after his actions make Kite kill the cub's mother, he let 'puppet kite' hit him even when he learned its robotic attack pattern, he feels weak and frustrated because 'The Bomber' wasn't taking him seriously and he hates feeling weak, so he delayed Killua's plan and got his hands destroyed to prove to himself that he can do it.

But helping others is still the clear priority over hurting himself: The best example to show this is when he visits the Zoldycks. He never took his anger about the Zoldyck family's isolation on Canary when he visited Killua, letting her knock him down again and again in silence for a while before expressing his frustrations with how unfair it is that he need to go through trials to visit a friend.

And when Killua's mom visited, he prioritized canary over his goal.

Gon is just... kind. Is far easier for him to care about strangers than it is for him to be angry.

Gon is smart, but he is not the best at figuring out people when they don't tell him how they feel, especially when Gon is annoyed or unsatisfied.

So I am not surprised he assumed cool-headed killua, who hides all his pain and is so reliable and mature, "always cleaning up Gon's mess", wasn't in pain in the chimera ant arc. It’s like having someone say “be calm” when you’re angry, stating cold facts that only make you feel more incompetent in your emotional state.

It hurt because it feels like Killua, whose opinion Gon values so much, doesn't care about Kite, his super important mentor figure. And since Pitou’s behavior makes it so he can’t use them as an outlet for his emotions, this hint of anger and betrayal at Killua makes him lash out without thinking about his friend.

But even in his blinding guilt and hatred, Killua is important enough to still be able to calm him down, and reminds him of his goal.

Gon doesn't understand Killua is hurt (since killua doesn't tell him) but at least... He is not alone.

"I can't wait" --> He genuinely feels like Killua is as calm as he pretends to be, only he is the 'helpless and in pain' one in Gon's mind and so Killua could easily wait, but he personally can't. He is alone in his pain.

"how long must we wait?" --> Killua is here. Gon never feels truly alone with Killua by his side, he at least has the comfort of an anchor in these trying times.

Killua, who feels unwanted, hurt, and useless, also misunderstands Gon and leaves when Gon needed company the most. Is none of their faults, but it does make Gon's already incredibly bad state even worst.

There is no one but himself to calm him down when he hit his breaking point, and Gon isn't kind to himself.

His 'fight' with Pitou wasn't revenge. It was a failed attempt to "get kite back" to "fix him" which failed, and he couldn't deal with the resulting grief, so he turned it all into a suicide attempt.

To me, Gon gets angry when he feels inadequate or that a loved one deserves better, he has self-centered tunnel vision when he gets angry, so he doesn't realize his anger-fueled actions might trouble others, but when he does he will make an effort to set aside his own goals for others.

He is a good kid, a genuinely good kid with no self-love that is surrounded by adults that usually view him as a monster or a "admirable powerhouse" first and a child second, and it takes an enormous amount of strain to make him break.

He is a very strong kid, I wanna hug him.

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

Mating

Dragon Hunter!Composer x Dragoon!reader

Rated M | Warning: you both have dragon blood you can guess how that goes

The dragon blood within him sings when around you. At first, it sang the song of adversity. The first time you met him it was when he was hunting beasts. You were hired to save a child, nothing more nor were you aiming to kill the dragon within the area.

But he complicated the situation by making his battle some grand spectacle, the audience being you and the dragon blood-tainted child. The dragon only took what was offered as a payment for protecting the village, the child was theirs to raise as kin. Its blood binds it to the child and the child to it.

“Begone sellsword! You will only get in the way.” The Dragon Hunter is known for his might and bloodthirsty nature.

“You will stand down.” You are not a slave to your blood nor are you its master, you are equal to it. Human and dragon coexisting within body and soul, blood singing with power. “This dragon is innocent. Trickery has been done by mortal words.”

“You lie.” Not that he cared. The dragon is his prey and he will smite it! “Stay aside or fall with the beast!”

“So be it.” You pull the lance from behind your back and go into a battle stance. “Take your child and flee as far as you can.” Ordering the wounded dragon, the child clinging to its adopted parent. “Go no!” As you block the rush attack from the Dragon Hunter.

Each strike is blocked, and each attempt to go after the original prey is met with your lance snatching and throwing him into the ground.

“Fine, then I shall deal with you first!”

As a Dragoon, your dragon blood roars to life, the aura imbued into the lance and your armor. Those who have fallen crafted into the bone armor and redden by their rage. When the Dragon Hunter stabs his blade into your shoulder, you roar as you bring him into the air.

He is no match for a Dragoon in the air, this he learns when has he to attempt to ground you.

The fight is spectacular, the Dragon Hunter has never felt this rush, this thrill before! To meet one who battles like a dragon, to witness the might one can tap into when it draws upon the blood of such magnificent beasts!

“Marry me.”

You were on the ground holding yourself up by your lance and a knee on the ground. The veteran has met your match and now he towers above you equally a mess from the fight.

“Be mine and I will not hunt the dragon and its kin.” It is rather cruel to have you choose to forfeit your life for the lives of others—

“Then I shall wed you.” Standing up to keep your pride. You do not hesitate to save anyone at any cost.

Frederick has never heard of a Dragoon much less seen one, nor has anyone captured his attention the way you have. Your armor is different, with spikes and scales like a dragon. When he touched it he felt the wrath of its spirit, the mighty fury of a dragon in rage. The lance you call Gae Bolg is crafted to represent a dragon in flight and strike like the dive of one. Had the Dragon Hunter been a wizard or human, you surely would have killed him.

“This is unnecessary.”

“It is quite necessary!” He finally can see you and you can see him without the armor. “Though I intend to marry you, we should probably get to know each other.”

“Was the trip here not enough time to know my body well enough for you, Frederick the Dragon Hunter.” You say with no emotion.

The man nearly chokes on his wine. The dining table is decorated with all types of food, drinks, and treats. His wealth befits a dragon, greedily hoarding wealth but you must admit his kingdom seems prosperous despite his greed.

“Frederick, my dear. We do not need titles when alone.”

“We do. It keeps us from mating once again.” You are very bluntly stating the events as it is true. After the battle, a new fight started. Dragon mating can be… Rather frightening to see for humans, it is about domination, proof of worthiness, and in the end compatibility. As human dragon hybrids, this follows.

Several days of fighting before the actual mating happened. The wedding will only be symbolic for humans, and it seems the Dragon Hunter wants to fully entertain courting you in a human fashion.

You, being raised more as a dragon than a human, do not see the point given you marked him as your mate.

“Humor me. I think you will enjoy the human mating ritual.” Drinking his goblet of wine while you take a seat beside him, your hands on the table. He hums pleased but then stops drinking when you do not grab the utensils on the table. “Is something wrong?”

“I do not know how to use these.” Because you only eat food with your hands given you are wandering time.

There is a silence before he starts snickering.

“Careful Frederick, I will not be mocked.” You grab the fork awkwardly before he reaches over and gently corrects your hand and finger placement. “... Thank you.” Quietly saying those words. He does not mock you when you try using the fork by aggressively stabbing your plate. It is strange and you prefer using your hands, easier to pick up things.

After dinner, Frederick takes you to the armory. Here is displayed all of the various armors throughout the ages. His victories and paintings depicting them.

“Seems you truly are a worthy mate,” Examining one of his oldest armor, “A safe home for our children, you have means of protecting them, and a legacy for them to uphold.”

“Children, dragons move fast.”

“Dragons have no true concept of time. For humans, it will appear slow but for us, it will be a blink of an eye. We are eternal. Nothing has to be immediate.” True. Your father took many human centuries before deciding to mate and have a child. When time and death have no meeting, waiting an eternity is nothing.

“Would it be a topic to come again?”

“If you so wish.”

Frederick grew up with human parents, the church called upon him to consume dragon blood, and the people who needed a savior. You grew up with your father who consumed your mother so their souls are joined as one, you became a dragoon as traditions of old call upon all hybrid children of dragons, and you wander to see the world.

Two very different people bound by the instincts of the dragons.

There are a lot of things you learned from each other. A give and take, the wedding was strange and very elaborate. It pleases your mate so you go along with it. Your father had given the Dragon Hunter his blessings and attended the wedding. The great Siegfried, the first and last Dragon Slayer of his kind. You never knew the human remembered as a hero once more, last your father recalls the human deemed him a monster. He was a human who became a dragon to save his home.

Interesting how times have changed.

The celebration after was much louder and Father took a human form for the occasion. 

Dancing, eating, drinking, the weird sentimental speeches. More drinking and dancing. The celebration lasted until the evening when it was announced the newlyweds were leaving. The unspoken time for mating.

“Now they all know we are having sex.” Humans are strange.

“It is not exactly a secret when we slip away to our chambers what is going to happen.”

“Still, humans love to claim they are so reserved yet are easily enthralled by desires. Next, they are going to ask to witness our mating to ensure we have consummated our marriage.” You are naked now and Frederick barely has his ceremonial armor off. “Get on the bed.”

“I am still— Oh.” Pinned down on the bed with you on top of him straddling them without shame as you are naked for only him to see. The scales of your dragon heritage shine in the light of the candles in the room. His eyes dare not wander as your gaze locks his with yours.

“You can still perform with the armor on. In fact, you may need the extra protection for our mating.”

That certainly makes his dragon stir, “I can handle you.”

“Show me, dragon hunter.” Grinning at him.

[an-idyllic-novelist]

Heracles with fem!giyuu!reader scenario

Collab work with @deathmetalunicorn1. This can be seen as either a platonic or a slow burn romance scenario.

warnings: violence, canon divergence, and possibly Brunhilde's potty mouth.

Giyuu!reader is selected to fight in round four against Heracles, the mightiest demigod of Olympus. Brunhilde had emphasized that his strength is nothing to scoff at and to make sure to secure a win so that Humanity will be given an advantage against the shitty gods. While she was not someone who judged a person by someone’s words alone, Giyuu!reader had promised Nezuko and Tanjiro that she would come back to them. And that is what she will do, regardless of who her opponent is in the arena. 

To her shock, Heracles had actually tried to persuade her to forfeit the match because he did not want to fight a woman. To him, it was dishonorable. She just looked at him for a moment, then unsheathed her sword and charged at him, though he had parried the blow with his club. 

Giyuu!reader clicked her tongue, leaping backwards and landing on her feet. She straightened her posture, [Eye Color] orbs staring at him icily. 

“This is a fight to save mankind…my gender is irrelevant. Or will you dare to change the match to suit your own benefit, as Zeus had done in the second match?” She asked, maneuvering her fingers around the leather handle of her sword before bending her knees. She inhaled her nose, exhaling through her mouth. 

“Water Breathing. Fifth Form. Blessed Rain After the Drought.”

Giyuu!reader darted across the arena, swinging her blade from the left, aiming at the demigod’s neck. She had hoped to finish her opponent in an act of kindness, but alas the tip of her blade barely made a dent as he had used his club again to parry. He pushed back against her, allowing Giyuu!reader to use his arm as leverage and leapt away again, putting distance between them. 

She frowned at him. “Stop this.” She said, “Fight back.” 

“I cannot and will not unless you lay down your arms.” He replied, lowering his club towards the ground, cerulean orbs bright with conviction and sincerity. He might…mean what he said, and these aren’t just pretty words to lower his opponent’s guard…it still pissed off Giyuu!reader that he was under the impression that she is weak. Yes, she is a Hashira, but she is neither the strongest nor the weakest Demon Slayer of the Corps. She did not survive for as long as she has, protecting Valhalla from the monsters on the other side of the Bifrost, by being soft either. 

“You are not a warrior.” Giyuu!reader snapped. “You….are pathetic.” Ignoring the outraged cries bouncing across the arena, she raised her blade at him with a single hand, the tip pointed at his chest.

“It is one thing to show mercy upon an enemy. But what about an opponent who is willingly to lay down her life in this fight, and she is expecting you to share the same courtesy, yet instead she is treated…like she is weak? This is not an act of mercy you are showing me. It is dishonorable. You, Heracles of the Grecian pantheon, have done nothing but humiliate me. Is that the reason you have chosen to be a representative of the Gods in this tournament, even when you proclaim to love humans? Or will you raise your weapon, shut up, and fight me with all of the strength that you possess?” 

“Then tell me what drives you.” Hercules pleaded. “Why are you doing this?” 

“...I can’t tell if you are being serious or just stupid.” Giyuu!reader spat. “You are fighting against someone who is considered to be powerful under Lord Hades’ command. Pummel me into the ground, right here and now, and I will gladly answer your question. Unless you have figured it out already, then congratulations. Either way I’m still going to win against you, even if it means I will sacrifice myself to ensure mankind will survive.” 

For a split second, Heracles noticed how his opponent’s shoulders tensed as someone called out to her from humanity’s side of the arena. He saw a young boy with a burn mark and wearing a checkered haori waving his arms frantically, a smaller girl with a bamboo piece in her mouth mimicking him, albeit with a bit more enthusiasm. 

The demigod closed his eyes. Inhaling deeply through his nose and exhaling through the mouth, Heracles raised his club, the spiked edges pointed at Giyuu!reader as she kept her sword pointed at him. 

“I love humans. I do not wish to see them destroyed when I know there is still hope for them to strive, to grow, and become better. Therefore…I will not kill a warrior who is fighting for such an honorable reason. Come, I will give you what you want. Instead of a clean death, however, I will fight until one of us loses consciousness. There has been enough death here today.” 

“Fine. The victor shall be the one who is not incapacitated.” 

Heracles nodded, and got into a fighting position. So did Giyuu!reader. Although the crowd - humans and gods - jeered at their words and wished to see more carnage, Zeus silenced them with his own agreement. He will make an exception in this round of Ragnarok…but no more mercy beyond round four. 

Giyuu!reader fought against the red-haired giant, deflecting his movements and using her Breathing techniques to counterattack. But….in the end, Heracles was too powerful. Giyuu!reader lost. Another win for the gods. And Brunhilde reminded her of her failure as soon as she gained consciousness in the medical wing, the Valkyrie glaring at Giyuu!reader. 

The Water Hashira felt frustrated tears building in the back of her eyes, rapidly blinking them away and praying that Brunhilde would not see such…an unsightly display of weakness. She was prepared for another tongue lashing when a familiar, deep voice rang in the white room.

“That’s enough, Brunhilde!”

Giyuu!reader looked up and saw Heracles hobble through the door, his broad chest and left arm covered in bandages. She noticed that the demigod was leaning heavily against his club, using it as a cane of sorts as he glared at the Valkyrie. 

“It isn’t like I walked away from this fight unscathed either. Nor was it a failure on her part. Do you know how rare it is to find a human who is able to keep up with my physical strength? And it was a tie, Brunhilde, not a failure.”

Giyuu!reader stared at him with widened eyes. “...A tie?” She whispered, averting her attention back to the dark-haired woman. Brunhilde sighed, her hands planted on her hips and lips curled into a frown. 

“He speaks the truth, though in hindsight, there is no predicting how this tournament will proceed. A complete victory would have been preferable…but this…I’ll accept it. For now. And you did fight hard, and with courage, unlike some of the warriors I had spoken to before coming to you. So…forgive me.” She inclined her head slightly to Giyuu!reader before she strode towards the door. The Valkyrie then looked back at the Hashira. 

“Get some rest.” 

That was the last thing Brunhilde had said before she skittered out of the room, leaving Giyuu!reader alone with the demigod. She said nothing, watching Heracles smiling boyishly at her as he carefully lowered himself on the edge of the bed, causing Giyuu!reader to scoot a little towards the right so that he’d have enough room. “How do you feel?” Giyuu!reader asked, tilting her head. “If we were both knocked out…then why weren’t you in the same room as I? Did the gods fear I would try to finish the job as soon as I was conscious?” She would have done it too, if Heracles had been a demon instead of a half-mortal, half-god she fought against in a tournament where the fate of humanity hung in the balance.

 Giyuu!reader watched as his eyes widened for a fraction before he threw his head back, a booming laugh bouncing off the walls. He laughed for a bit, and then looked at her, his grin stretched from ear to ear.

“Sorry. I-It’s just…wow, I definitely wasn’t expecting that! No. The hospital policy is to not have men and women share the same room, even when there are curtains that can be used for privacy and so on.” He chuckled, using the back of his hand to wipe away some tears that were trickling down his face from laughing too hard. 

Giyuu!reader blinked, staring at him blankly. “I suppose that does make sense.” She muttered. “Will you be leaving soon then? I’ve heard gods and demigods have extraordinary regenerative abilities.”

“Soon.” He said, flexing his left arm. “The facilities used here are amazing, and you’ll get to go back home too!”

“And our fight was most definitely a tie?”

“Absolutely! It was a double-knock out! Everyone saw it, and they can certainly not deny it! Even Heimdall was astonished at your strength. Oh, we could even have another match when you’ve made a full recovery! Ares is an amazing fighter like you, but he’s not always available! And I’ve never seen a fighting style like yours, it’s incredible!”

Giyuu!reader stared at him for a long moment until she slowly nodded in agreement. 

“I would not mind.” She said softly. “Although…knowing Tanjiro and Nezuko, they will probably give me quite the scolding when I return to the compound.” Just when she said those words with a small smile, which caused Heracles’ heart to skip a beat upon seeing such a lovely expression on the warrior’s face, however, the door opened with a loud ‘bang’. Both of them turned and saw a little girl with a bamboo piece in her mouth, pink eyes widening before she began to weep. Without a word of warning, she blitzed towards Giyuu!reader, performing a small backflip as her body shrunk to the size of a toddler and landed squarely on the Hashira’s solar plexus, knocking the wind of her with a grunt. 

But Giyuu!reader didn’t push the child away. Instead, she pulled the little one into a hug as chubby arms coiled around her neck. “Shh, it’s okay. I’m alright, Nezuko. See? I told you everything would be fine.”  The Hashira cooed, slowly rocking her body back and forth. 

From the corner of his eye, Heracles saw another human enter the room. Taller, and he couldn’t have been younger than fifteen or seventeen summers with dark red hair and a green checkered haori draped over his black uniform with silver buttons. The demigod immediately recognized him, and the little girl. They were from the arena, and the boy called out to Giyuu!reader during the match. 

The boy, whom he had to guess was Tanjiro, stared at him with nervous, inquisitive eyes. Heracles smiled at him, and stood from the bed, allowing the tiny mortal to approach Giyuu!reader. Tanjiro beamed at him before he walked over to Giyuu!reader’s side, throwing his arms around the Water Hashira and Nezuko, burying his face in the former’s shoulder. When he pulled away, the demigod saw that this boy wasn’t even trying to hide his tears. He had been truly worried about Giyuu!reader. 

Giyuu!reader smiled at him, raising a hand and stroking the top of his head before trying to wipe away his tears, although such a tender gesture only made him cry even harder.  

While he didn't know the history between these three individuals, it was clear to Heracles that they shared a close bond with one another. He smiled, watching Giyuu!reader panicking over Tanjiro while the little one, Nezuko, looked up at him with tiny flowers over her head till she decided to hug his uninjured leg. His grin widened. 

Humans were truly amazing. 

“Say, once we’ve been cleared by the healers to be released, how about we all go out and get something to eat? My treat!”

Tanjiro and Nezuko definitely wanted to go, but they left the final decision to Giyuu!reader as they stared at her with wide, curious eyes. Giyuu!reader nodded. 

“It would be our honor, Heracles of the Grecian pantheon. I hope we can wait to spar until we’ve fully healed?” She asked with a raised brow. Heracles beamed, jabbing a thumb at his chest.

“Of course! I swear upon my honor!”

“Then it is settled.” 

Heracles felt his heart race and his smile widen upon seeing her smile for the second time. He did not know why he felt like this. The only conclusion he could come up with is that he didn’t have to kill this strangely wonderful woman and cause grief for these children. He wouldn’t find out the actual truth until much, much later.

Taglist

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[jaemified]

last christmas | part 2

“this year, to save me from tears ; ill give it to someone special.”

❆ pairing ; strangers to ?? park gunwook x fem reader

❆ genre ; fluff, slight drama +(ft taesan/jaehyun of bnd and yunjin of lsrfm ^^)

❆ warnings ; swearing, and kinda toxic relationships

❆ wordcount ; 2.4k

❆ synopsis ; beginning your second year of college and you feel youve hit rock bottom. on your own after your ex kicked you out, and taking on a seasonal job at a christmas shop to pay off student loans? everythings gone to shit. but then, you see him for the first time. and you realize there really was a little light in the darkness — your someone special.

♡ kona speaks ! - vaguely follows the plot of the film last christmas (2 part story)

read below the cut !

you cant say you were all to proud of yourself now.

sure, you were a pretty incredible student by high school graduation, with a 3.9 gpa and all (not to mention making it to seoul national university with your beloved boyfriend).

but, that was a year ago.

who wouldve thought it was possible for your life to go so far downhill, in just a span of roughly over 12 months?

your parents had found a better job opportunity in london, but your mom wanted you and your brother to be nearby.

meaning doing so without running it by you of course, which led to her enrolling you into imperial college as a foreign transfer student.

your boyfriend was pretty upset, but nevertheless, followed you despite your best efforts telling him not to (which meant him forfeiting his scholarship at snu).

once your family first heard he would follow suit to london, they gave you an ultimatum. and stupidly, you chose love over family.

they never approved of him anyway.

it was fine for the meanwhile.

at least until you broke up, and he decided to place the blame on you.

it was your flat you bought with your own money anyway. what did he ever do for you? how dare he kick you out of your own home!

-

you watched while gyuvin pulled your luggage out the closet, pushing it towards you.

“what the hell are you doing!” you exclaimed as he began to pull your clothes off hangers and throw them towards your direction.

“helping you leave.” he muttered.

“what did i even do? you just wake up one day and decide its my fault you followed me to another continent despite me saying you shouldnt? i told you not to leave your dreams behind, and you chose to ignore me!”

“well maybe you didnt try hard enough! i just know that i dont feel the same about you now as i did then.”

“so thats it?” you scoffed. “you realize this is my apartment? i pay the rent. you just practically live here for free. you cant just kick me out of my own home!”

he only ignored you and shoved piles upon piles of clothing into 2 separate suitcases, before gently escorting you to the door.

“gyuvin. gyuv! kim gyuvin! you cant just leave me here!” you begged.

“im sorry y/n. but its over. maybe if you hadnt taken all that mattered to me we couldve worked out.” gyuvin spoke before slowly closing the door, leaving you out in the cold wearing only pajamas.

“what the fuck am i supposed to do now..” you whispered to yourself, thinking of the only possible places to go.

sure your number of options was minimal, but you began with the only person you thought you could count on anyway.

“what the hell are you doing here?” taesan expressed in shock while he stared at you standing at his front door.

“need somewhere to crash.. surprise?” you shrugged jokingly, trying to lighten the mood as you and your brother werent on the brightest terms.

“goodbye y/n.” he sighed as he turned to lock you out.

“han taesan you let me in this instant! you cant just leave me to die in the middle winter!” you exclaimed, stepping through the door frame so it couldnt close.

“wheres gyuvin?” he scoffed. “i mean, youre the one who left me with mom and dad to buy a house for him anyway.”

“we broke up. blamed me and said i was the reason he lost everything in seoul or whatever. and he still kicked me out of MY home.”

taesan let out a heavy breath, looking around before pushing the door out more for you to walk through.

“..you mean it?” you pondered hesitantly.

“i suppose. i know we warned you about him and all, but youre still my baby sister.” he half heartedly grinned, pointing his head in the direction of his hallway as a gesture for you to come in.

you knew he was still mad at you despite not showing it, but knowing your brother, hes still someone who you could rely on in any situation.

“yeah. and uh- just a heads up, i still live with jaehyun and leehan, plus we dont have an extra room so.. we’ll just figure it out later.”

“thank you.”

-

a week later and you were doing better than before. though it wasnt easy to forget the incident, you still managed with the new living situation and all.

you woke up bright and early the following morning for work, ready to sell christmas ornaments for the rest of your life under your boss, huh yunjin, as you were now on break from school.

considering jaehyuns bed wasnt all too comfortable, you still slept pretty well. youre grateful he took the couch for you during that first week. ‘maybe ill get him something as a thank you.’

“what are you doing up so early?” taesan asked, holding off on the toast he was about to eat as he watched you rush downstairs.

“got work. not like dads willing to pay student loans anymore right?”

“the christmas shop, still?” jaehyun asked from his seat on the couch.”

“cant have a full time job as a full time student. it just worked out while im on christmas break.”

your brother nudged you in your stomach, motioning for you to thank his friend for his deed.

“-oh and thanks for taking the couch. i owe you. if you want food or anything ill cover the cost and pick it up in return.” you continued.

“its fine. i get it, the last few days were rough. dont worry about it.” he smiled.

-

after a quick 10ish (or so) minute walk to the street side store you worked at, you realized you were about 5 minutes past the time you were meant to clock in for your shift.

walking into the store, it was no surprise it was already crowded by 8:36am seeing as christmas was 2 weeks away now.

“y/n! y/n get over here! where is your uniform?” yunjin questioned as more of a whisper yell.

before you got the chance to reply, she quickly cut you off and said, “nevermind that. just please hurry to change and come help me with all these people!”

you wave off her dismissive behavior, and speed walk to the bathroom, making sure to pass the lockers to grab your uniform on the way.

“i forgot how itchy this was..” you grumble as you slip on the ugly elf costume yet again before leaving to the front desk.

“welcome in! please let us know if theres anything you need help with!” yunjin smiled as another person walks through the door, putting on her customer service voice.

“guess you dont need me anymore?” you asked jokingly, noticing there was no one within a 10 foot distance of the check out line.

“why must you take so long to change? i only had enough time to help half those people. the other half left after mr smith came in to return all the ornaments he broke again. he really knows how to hold up a line.” she sighed, moving in the direction of a huge box of broken material.

“you cant keep letting them return damaged product. we are losing enough money as is, santa.” you gestured to her new character change yet again as you realize where a good chunk of the budget went. “what was wrong with the reindeer costume?”

“it didnt make it clear that im the owner. the shop is called santas workshop dont you know? cant call it santas workshop if theres no santa.”

you laughed brightly at yunjin while she picked up the box to bring it to the back, just as another person walked in.

“welcome in!-” you call out, before cutting yourself off as you caught a glimpse of his face.

he was pretty gorgeous, you couldnt lie. from what you noticed, he had shortish black hair and big eyes to compliment his soft lips (not to mention his build was pretty insane too. he definitely works out).

the very same guy who caught your attention came to you shortly after, seeking some assistance on picking a gift, so you were happy to comply.

“im not sure what she’d like. its hard shopping for a 14 year old.” he said.

“what’s your relation to her? just like so i know how close you are so its easier to help.”

“my younger cousin. we arent that close, but its our first family gathering in a while and my mom wants me to get something for everyone. but shes always been.. far from an open book. so im lost”

you thought long and hard about what your cousins around that age like, before coming to a final decision.

you attempt to reach for the legos, but you almost fall over as it was just barely out of reach, sitting on one of the higher shelves.

carefully, he steadies you by holding your arm and reaches to grab the item you were aiming at.

“this?” the guy questions as he hands you the orchid lego set.

“yeah! im not sure if it suites her or anything but you cant go wrong with legos. the price isnt too bad and its suitable for anyone at any age for the most part.” you shrugged.

“that actually.. makes perfect sense. youre really good at your job, no? thank you.”

“no worries. if theres anything else i could help you with, weve got a new selection of stuffed animals your girlfriend might like.” you spoke like it was nothing, acting as if you werent just trying to get information.

“i actually.. dont..i don’t have a girlfriend.” he chuckled awkwardly as he brought up a hand to rub the back of his neck.

“oh really? im surprised someone like you doesnt have a pretty girl on your arm.” you said nonchalantly while you attempted to hide your smile (as if you were going to make a move).

“oh stop!” he waved off when you pointed out how red his ears were getting, assuming you only were trying to boast his ego (hes so unaware)((please get the hint)).

you walk back with him to the register so he could pay after realizing there wasnt much more he needed. “that’ll be 45 charged to your card.” you smiled.

“thank you, ms..?” trailing off as he notices he never actually got your name.

“han. y/n han. glad to be of assistance.”

“oh and- one more thing?”

“sure, what else?”

“what time does the store close?”

“10 at night. extended business hours every saturday.”

“surely youre joking? theres no one else here but you and the owner! thats in like 13 hours. youre working a 14 hour shift?”

“yeah but i get paid way extra so its fine, i really do need it. and yeah we are beyond understaffed but its alright.” you laugh, masking your exhaustion and dread with a bit of your lighthearted energy.

“really? i could never, must be so tiring.”

“it is, beyond imagination. but we do what we can.”

“get home safely then alright? its scary leaving that late especially considering the predators go after pretty ladies.”

“youre a tricky one arent you! how dare you mask that as an attempt to flirt.” you gasp playfully, “ill be fine, its not that far of a walk.”

“walk? youre not really walking home are you?” “well yeah, its not like i can drive when i dont have a car myself.”

“by any chance, might you need-”

“y/n! leave the poor man alone! i need you to stock the shelves in the ornaments section!” yunjin calls out from the storage room and interrupting the conversation.

“ill get to it.” you call back.

“well, i should get going then. it really was lovely meeting you.” he smiles.

“thank you, take care!” you reply, waving as he leaves.

it only hit you many hours later (quite literally an hour before you clock out) that you never got his name, and you regret it oh so much!

even yunjin felt pity for you, multitasking and listening to you ramble about the mysterious man despite all the work she had going on whilst you both sat in her office seeing as there were no customers beyond 9:30pm.

“why cant we close early if theres no one coming past a certain time? its not like anyone needs to be christmas shopping at.. 9:49 at night.”

“its just in case theres anyone who needs something, we cant miss a chance to make more money when we’re low on rent money.” she reminded.

“its only 11 minutes though.”

“and where do you have to be in 11 minutes? you live with your brother and his two roommates with no boyfriend and instead worry about a man you just met.”

“ouch, you need to go out more.”

“y/n you know i love you but i have no time for that nonsense. i need to have fun, yes, but money is essential. clubbing and drinking does not get you there, we both know that.”

-

finally, the dreaded 11 minutes were up and it was time to lock up after a crazy long shift. though, you cant say you were looking forward to walking home after standing in heels all day.

it was all most as if your prayers were answered (or just by a really strange coincidence(?)) that someone on a motorcycle stopped in front of you as you crossing the street.

“heard you needed a ride?” the guy from earlier said as he took off his helmet.

“what are you doing here? its late out.” you replied, acting calm as if your heart wasn’t beating out of your chest.

“cant leave you to walk alone in the dark, can i, pretty lady?”

“youre smart, ill give you that.” you smile when you feel your cheeks go hot.

“ill take you home. come on.”

-

maybe it wasnt the best idea to give a stranger your address, but he seemed nice enough, and pretty trustworthy to say the least.

you sat behind him as he drove through the streets, with your arms wrapped around his waist, your chest flush against his back as you wore the helmet he let you borrow.

he was so naturally warm you felt his body heat through the sweater he wore, thankfully keeping you from being to cold.

soon enough you were home, and he was walking you up to the front door.

“thank you for today even if it wasnt all that much, i had a lot of fun. you made my work day more.. bearable.” you smiled.

“of course, you can always call if you need a ride or anything. dont want you getting sick when its storm season.” he reminded before slipping you a postcard with his number on it.

“id love to get to know you more, but i just broke up with my boyfriend last week.. give me some time?”

sure you technically were the one who found him attractive first but, you never actually thought about initiating something more.

he smiled without a second thought, nodding his head slightly. “of course, i understand. just know ill be here, waiting.”

“wait! i never got your name?”

“ill see you later y/n!” he called out as he left, driving off in the opposite direction.

you sighed and unlocked the door with the spare key leehan gave you, and notice him sitting next to jaehyun when you walked in.

“you have a boyfriend and you didnt tell me? how could you! i thought we were friends.” leehan expressed dramatically from the couch as you took off your shoes at the door.

“not a boyfriend, just a friend. why were you even- whatever. wheres taesan?”

“in the bathroom.”

“thanks. uh- jaehyun is it okay if i change in your room since i left my clothes there?”

“go ahead.” he reassured. “oh! also, by the time you come back the pizza we ordered should be here too.”

you close the door behind you and pull out the index card from earlier to save the number as a contact. however, you couldnt help but smile as you read what it said below.

“your personal uber when you need it! +44 28xxx0xx29 -xoxo gunwook park :)”

[cpressmn]

i love love love your prompts. 9 or 19, whichever you prefer <3

i was gonna try to combine them, but all i could think about was your fic so i decided to try and be original instead. hope it's everything you were dreaming it would be <3

19. sitting on each other's laps

“Nope, get up. That’s my seat.” Steve snaps his fingers at Dustin, other hand balancing his plate of pizza.

“You got up,” Dustin counters. “You forfeit all rights to your seat when you get up.”

Steve doesn’t bother arguing with the kid, knowing he’ll be met with a snotty, Those are the rules, Steve. What, you want me to change the universal laws of dibs for you? Get over it. Instead, he frowns at El, settled in between Dustin and Lucas on the couch in the Wheeler’s basement. “You were supposed to save my spot.”

She has the grace to look at least a little sorry. “I tried.”

“You have superpowers. Seems like maybe you could’ve tried a little harder.”

El shrugs, apparently done feeling apologetic.

“She just likes me more than she likes you. More than anyone, actually.” Dustin slings his arm around her shoulders, gummy smile on full display. “I’m her favorite.”

“Ha.” Max’s eyes are unfocused, but she still manages to fling an unimpressed look in Dustin’s direction, shifting in her wheelchair next to the couch.

“I’m her favorite boy,” Dustin corrects.

“Hey! What about me?” Lucas pouts.

“I’m literally her boyfriend,” Mike says from where he’s sitting on the recliner opposite Eddie, taking a break from their discussion about the latest campaign to scold his best friends.

“Tough shit. Still her favorite.”

El looks at Mike, then at Lucas, at Dustin, considering, and back to Mike. “Dustin’s my favorite,” she confirms.

“That’s messed up,” Lucas mutters, accepting Max’s consoling pat on his arm.

“Congratulations,” Steve says dryly, interrupting Dustin’s cheers of victory and Mike’s flustered protests. “Now where am I supposed to sit?”

“You can sit right here, princess.”

Eddie, comfortably sprawled in one of the recliners, pats his lap and grins smugly at Steve, like he knows his invitation won’t be accepted.

It’s been some kind of unspoken competition between the two of them lately, seeing who can get under the kids’ skin the fastest with their excessive displays of affection and pet names. It started with a co-parenting bit the kids developed several weeks back. The dipshits love to tease them, enjoy how frustrated Steve gets when they call him their mom and Eddie their dad, and the best way to get them to lay off, Steve had reasoned, was to lean into it. 

Instead of huffing or rolling his eyes the next time the kids told Eddie to “talk some sense into his wife,” Steve had said, “Eddie agrees with me. Don’t you, honey?” while unnecessarily straightening the collar of Eddie’s jacket, pressed close into his space. 

Eddie’s eyes had widened in surprise, but only briefly. Almost immediately, his hands were settled on Steve’s hips, and he was crooning something ridiculous, along the lines of, “Always, baby.” It had the kids gagging in response, making various faces and comments that all meant the same thing: they hated seeing the two of them act like this. 

Which is, of course, exactly why Steve and Eddie keep doing it.

It’s like a game of Gay Chicken, except the only people they’re trying to freak out are their obnoxious observers. 

So when Eddie offers his lap and looks at Steve like he knows he won’t do it, like this is too far outside the range of Steve’s comfort level, Steve rises to the challenge.

Like he does most things in his life, Steve doesn’t think it through very much, just shrugs and plops down in Eddie’s lap. “Thanks,” he says over his shoulder, relishing the surprised sound Eddie lets slip.

It’s more uncomfortable than he thought it would be, and he shifts around a little, fully blaming Eddie’s skinny ass legs. He’s never actually sat in someone’s lap before, though, so maybe he’s a little to blame, too. 

He always loved being the one with a lapful of the latest girl he was flirting with. He got to wrap his arms around her waist, tug her closer to his chest. It was easy to access her ear for whispered conversations and her neck for teasing kisses. And it was always nice, being that close to someone, the weight of them bearing down on him pleasant. Comforting, even.

This, though, being on the other end of it, isn’t as fun as he thought it would be. His thighs are tense, still holding himself up so he doesn’t crush Eddie beneath him, and he feels about two seconds away from toppling over. 

“You’re not gonna break me, you know.” Eddie’s voice is low, his breath hot on the back of Steve’s neck, and Steve fights like hell to suppress a shudder. He’s supposed to be the one with the upper hand in all this. “I’m stronger than I look. Relax.”

Eddie’s arm loops around his middle and pulls him in, and Steve finally lets himself melt into his hold, resting his full weight on Eddie. He wraps an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and angles his body inward, keeping one leg tucked between both of Eddie’s and draping the leg closest to Eddie across Eddie’s other leg. He doesn’t resist it when Eddie grabs Steve’s outer thigh, keeping him in place. Steve would never admit it, but it’s almost…nice. Being held by Eddie like this. Possibly even better than being the one doing the holding. 

“Must you? There’s a stool, like, right next to you,” Dustin says, pointing to the stool that is, in fact, available and right next to them.

Whatever. Steve shrugs. “This is more comfortable.”

“Aww, sweetheart,” Eddie coos and taps Steve’s nose with his ringed forefinger. Steve narrows his eyes. Leave it to Eddie to keep trying to one-up him. Trying and succeeding, which is the most irritating part.

“Ew,” Max says after Lucas explains to her what they’re doing. “Can you not?”

“Seriously. We were in the middle of a conversation,” Mike adds on, eyeing Steve with disdain.

“And? I’m not stopping you.” Steve takes a bite of his pizza. Pretends like this is completely normal and not at all affecting him in any way.

He feels, more than hears, Eddie chuckling and has to bite back his own smile in response. “Continue, Wheeler,” Eddie beckons, and everyone resumes their conversations before Steve interrupted them so he could sit on Eddie’s lap.

At least, Steve thinks they do. It’s hard to focus on anything other than the way Eddie is unconsciously rubbing his thumb in soothing circles against Steve’s waist. It’s a little dizzying, and Steve blames his recent dry spell on his reaction to such a simple touch. To any of Eddie’s touches as of late. He’s just desperate for any kind of human contact, so it only makes sense that he’s more sensitive to it, no matter who it’s coming from. 

He’s startled out of his thoughts when El makes Dustin’s drink explode in his face. Dr. Pepper drips off his nose, and the room erupts into laughter as he lunges to wipe his face off on her sleeve despite her twisting away, squealing. 

Eddie laughs, delighted, never tired of El’s displays of her powers, and his grip on Steve tightens. When he turns to Steve with his bright eyes and dimpled cheeks, Steve is powerless to do anything but return his smile and hope it doesn’t look too dopey. 

Maybe Eddie would want to try this again during movie night this week. Steve reaches up to grasp his other wrist, properly encircling Eddie’s neck with his arms, and sinks further into Eddie’s hold. The kids would hate it. 

[mrs-snape5984]

“As long as I'm with you, I've got a smile on my face…”

“Save your tears, it'll be okay. All I know is you're here with me…” (“Here with me” by D4vd)

Suffering from ME/CFS makes me feel like my whole world is falling apart in front of my eyes. Since I’ve already lost so much joy and so many abilities due to this devastating disease, my continuing loss seems to increase even further.

As some of you might know, do I love to write my own stories about Severus and Julia just as much as I enjoy using my tumblr blog as some kind of journal, whenever I’ve commissioned another artwork. It’s my way of rolling out a red carpet for the artists of Snapedom…it’s my way of honouring them for their talent in their profession. Commissioning those amazing people and letting them make my ideas and fantasies come to life, is my very own manner of coping with my physical and emotional pain.

And now, this coping mechanism seems to crumble into pieces as well as everything else, that I’ve already lost! It hurts me to admit, that my brain fog takes advantage of my capability to create vivid images with my words. My thoughts are getting blurry and chaotic. I’m struggling to find the right words to express my emotions (it’s even worse in my native language German than in English!!)…and this scares me to hell!

My mind was the only place, where I could find some shelter from my infuriating and terrifying reality of losing myself to ME/CFS. What if I forfeit my only - just barely existing- talent now?? How should I flee this nightmare of existence if writing wouldn’t be an option anymore?! How should I express my gratitude towards all those marvellous artists of Snapedom, who are all weaving my emotional comfort blanket with each piece of their art?!?

I don’t want to give up on my writing…and I won’t…even though my pride would probably fade away with each badly written chapter of my fictions…and with each unworthy post on my blog. I must admit, that I’m already acknowledging the loss of quality. 🥺

I found an inspiring poem about the importance of staying resilient, no matter how difficult the hardships of life might become, and I want to share it with you:

"KEEP GOING" (Better known as "DON'T QUIT") by Edgar A. Guest

When things go wrong, as they sometimes will, When the road you're trudging seems all uphill, When the funds are low and debts are high, And you want to smile but have to sigh.

When care is pressing you down a bit, Rest, if you must, but DON'T YOU QUIT!

Life is queer with its twists and turns, As everyone of us sometimes learns, And many a failure turns about,

When he might have won if he'd stuck it out, Don't give up though the pace seems slow, You might succeed with another blow.

Often the struggler has given up, When he might captured the victor's cup.

And he learned too late, when the night slipped down, How close he was to the golden crown,

Success is failure turned inside out, The silver tint on clouds of doubt, And you never can tell how close you are, It may be near when it seems afar,

So stick to the fight when you're hardest hit, It's when things seem worst that you mustn't quit.

My dear @mmad-lover, I can’t stress enough how grateful I am for your dedication to this stunning piece of art and believe me, it was worth every single second of waiting! Paula, I was incredibly touched to hear, that my request seemed to be something special, something personal to you. I can assure you, that, indeed, all of my ideas have a profound meaning to me and I’m glad that you’re such an empathetic person, who sensed that particular importance of your art to me. Your devotion to this drawing is palpable in every single detail, every line of your brushes. You created exactly the mood, that I wished for Severus and Julia. It doesn’t matter that the world is burning to the ground around them, they will always have each other’s backs! Just like I’m relying on Severus for more than 21 years now. Thank you for everything, you precious soul! I’m glad that I met you and I hope, we’ll stay in touch. 🥹

🖤Severus & Julia🖤

🖤Sevy & Jules🖤

[cartoonsbyandie]

@akai-anna You have made a mistake

SPOILERS FOR MOVIE 9 below the cut (TW: Depression like oh my god severe depression, suicidal tendencies)

So it's no secret I'm a Kogoro Enjoyer tm, to the point that it's probably more shocking that Movie 9 isn't my #1 pick, and my favorite movie involves Kogoro asleep for 60% of the runtime. BUT it gets the #2 spot on the strength of one scene, which is my favorite moment in any DetCo movie and possibly even the series as a whole.

The moment (which is probably like 20 minutes I'm corralling all into one 'scene') is all of Kogoro's deduction scene and the ensuing fight, basically right up until the point where they have to save Rachel. (The Rachel stuff being where most of my frustrations with Movie 9 are.)

Here's the thing about DetCo: If you're watching Movie 9, you're probably into the series pretty deep, right? You're trained to disregard Kogoro unless you get extremely clear signs otherwise. He's comic relief, he's always wrong, his theories are always wrong. Period. Unless Conan is literally spoonfeeding him clues, or the show goes out of its way to show he's being serious this time, anything he thinks up on his own is completely wrong. The movierunners know this and play into it-- In an earlier scene, Kogoro goes up on stage like always and completely botches a deduction in front of a crowd. He has no evidence and gets called out on it instantly, at which point Conan (via Agasa) steps in and calls out the real culprit, who confesses and the Action Part of the movie begins. Business as usual.

And then the movie proceeds to completely and entirely subvert that.

It's my favorite scene because of just how well the show hid its cards, which your mileage may vary on. Kogoro isn't front and center on the movie poster, but he isn't shoved in the background either, and I did get some inklings beforehand that this movie might have Kogoro playing a more prominent role when he seemed to be acting strange. (I say this is my favorite single scene, but the whole movie does build up to it well with subtle clues.) But during that botched deduction scene, I disregarded all of it-- I've been burned before by this show, thinking they were building to Kogoro doing something cool, only for it to be played for laughs. They fake the audience out by playing exactly to expectations, so Kogoro coming out of NOWHERE to reveal that he was right all along and literally left the botched deduction to go search the culprit's room for evidence and sabotage her murder weapon HAD ME SCREAMING.

Literally all of Kogoro's skills come to fruition here in this scene. He knows enough about guns to sabotage a harpoon gun, knows (almost) exactly what happened for all the crimes at this point, knows how to fight and subdue a criminal (we'll get to that) and is devoted enough to justice and Being A Detective to see this case through to the very end. This should be a crowning moment of triumph, and what's the soundtrack doing?

It's solemn and sad, because where is Kogoro is giving this deduction? On a sinking ship, after he forfeited his spot on the lifeboat, believing that Conan and Ran have already made it out. He gives this deduction alone, with no one but himself and the culprit. He acted like he would arrest the culprit, but... where would he take her? What was his escape plan?

He didn't have one, did he?

The culprit mentions that it's pointless for him to explain her crime to her considering the circumstances, and Kogoro outright says he can't help himself. He knows it's pointless. He was prepared to give his life here, just to stop her plan.

And you know what? That's tragic. The fact that he's willing to die here, for this, leaving behind Ran and Conan, is heartbreaking to watch. The tone of this 'real' deduction scene is a complete 180 from the botched one, because Kogoro isn't playing anything up. He's just calmly explaining the crime because that's what detectives do. That's what detectives live for.

I'm not done, though. There's still the part where the culprit decides her final act is going to be to kick his ass for this stunt. I think it's pretty clear from everything Kogoro says that he's throwing this fight, if not on-purpose then on a subconscious level. Like, Kogoro doesn't really fight for himself, does he? He fights when someone who murdered his friend is attacking his other friends, he fights when Ran and Conan's safety is at risk. He fights for other people, so when it's only himself at stake (and he was already prepared to die, that's why he's here at all), what's the point?

Conan calling out to him snapped him into gear because suddenly it wasn't about him. Suddenly there was someone else to protect.

I haven't mentioned Conan but the fact that Conan is 'present' for this entire scene is great to me too. He got to hear this entire thing, help Kogoro out when he fumbled one detail in his deduction, and even seemed proud by the end. It's so sweet to see Conan proud of Kogoro for once. It's sweet to see just how good Kogoro can be when he really cares, and how good of a team these two could be.

I'm glad we got at least one movie dedicated to that idea.

[bg-brainrot]

Of Bets, Bluffs, and Briefs

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Summary: It's another night at the Elfsong for your group of intrepid adventures. After a hard day of fighting evil, you find a way to sit down, unwind, and undress through a game of strip poker.

Tags: POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Strip Poker, Nudity, Alcohol, Innuendos, act 3 unascended Astarion

Word count: ~3.2k

Partly inspired by this amazing piece of fanart from @krembruleed, ty to @thedomesticanthropologist for putting it on my feed!

--

It's hard work being a hero. Though you suppose one could hardly tell by the current state of your group.

What you had originally thought would be a harmless game of cards– a way to destress with your companions after yet another life-threatening situation– had turned into quite a different type of danger. Right now, you are perilously close to losing your last two items of clothing in a high stakes, winner take all, game of strip poker.

It had begun innocently enough.

"Soldier, what do you think?" Karlach had asked you, pulling you out of your thoughts. You were all sitting together playing a game of cards, drinks in hand, crowded around a circular table in your room at the Elfsong. 

You'd lifted your eyes from your hand to look at her, directly on your right, and asked, "About what?"

"About raising the stakes a bit," she'd responded with a little eyebrow wiggle.

In your defense, your hand was fantastic. Your mind was mired in all of the possibilities it could afford you. That being said, maybe you should have gotten clarification before agreeing. "That sounds like a great idea, Karlach."

So now here you are, wearing only a pair of underpants and socks, regretting the fact that a single good hand led you to this sorry state of undress. You’re no stranger to being naked, but something about being half-naked, elbow to elbow with your friends, with nothing but a few flimsy cards between you? Well, you are starting to feel a touch exposed.

The rest of your team doesn't seem to be faring much better: Wyll is down to his white briefs; Karlach has a pair of bracers and her underpants left; Lae'zel is down to just a headband she'd nearly forgotten about; Shadowheart has both a bra and underwear left; Gale is wearing his purple underpants and an amulet; Halsin is already out of the game, completely nude, sitting at the table and simply appreciating the freedom of it all. You rather suspect he wasn’t trying as hard as the rest of you to keep clothed.

There is, however, one among your crew who is nearly no worse for wear, save a pair of missing boots and a missing cape. Astarion, with all of the pride of someone who has had four winning hands in a row, smiles wickedly at the group over his latest hand of cards.

“Come on, Astarion,” Karlach whines, leaning forward on the table. “You cannot possibly have another flush or I am calling bullshit.”

“My dearest Karlach,” he starts, voice coated in only the sweetest of honey. “You wound me. I am simply playing with the hands that I’ve been dealt, same as the rest of you.”

“And your hands just happen to include a full house or two?” Shadowheart questions, raising an annoyed eyebrow at him as she crosses her bare legs.

Astarion’s fanged grin grows. “Maybe I’m just lucky?”

You have begun to strongly suspect foul play as well, given the vampire’s downright unbelievable ‘luck’ so far. “Astarion, if you are cheating, I will be incredibly cross with you,” you say as a way of warning. He doesn’t need to strip in front of the group if he doesn’t want to, of course, and he could just as easily have avoided the game altogether. No, he seems to have another motive behind his near-perfect playing.

“My darling!” he exclaims, placing a single pale hand on his chest. “The rest of these jealous dimwits I expect, but you?” He makes an exaggerated show of wiping away a fake tear with one of Gale’s many forfeited articles of clothing.

“Excuse you!” Gale cuts in. “You may have won the hand, but I expect my robe to be in perfect condition once you return it to me.”

“I thought we were playing for keeps?” you ask, turning to Karlach. Or was this not as high stakes as you’d expected?

“Of course we are!” the tiefling answers with gusto. “Otherwise where’s the fun! The fear! The excitement!” She punctuates each statement by pounding on the table, nearly jostling everyone’s flagons onto the floor. 

The point was made though and you simply hear a resigned sigh from the wizard. “I cannot lose my last pair of enchanted underwear,” he grumbles.

“Then maybe you ought to try winning,” Astarion retorts, the gleeful look never leaving his face.

You take a sip from your drink, surveying the situation. You’re playing 5-card draw, a simple version of poker, rife with opportunity for Astarion to cheat. But why cheat? It’s a game for fun, despite the silly fear it’s clearly instilled in you all. And it’s not as if he’s wearing his best gear or outfit.

You take a look at your hand, another dud– no opportunities for a straight, no pairs for a full house. Your best bet is to draw and hope for a pair, but you suspect that won’t nearly be enough to beat whatever Astarion is crooning over. With only a pair of socks and underpants to your name, you know when you’ve lost. So you know it’s time to do what you do best. “Well then,” you say, placing your cards face down on the table and leaning back. “What happens if I fold?”

“Fold?” Lae’zel asks with a glare. “Would you truly abandon your efforts this deep into the battle?”

Little does she know that you plan on losing the battle to win the war. “Yes,” you respond easily. “What does that do?”

Karlach’s face scrunches up as she considers the possibilities. No one has tried to back out yet, but surely, you need some kind of punishment for trying to avoid the ‘strip’ part of strip poker.

“How about you buy the next round?” Wyll offers, ever the gentleman. His eyes are carefully trained on yours, and you’re not sure if the blush that colors his cheeks is from the drinks he’s had or the proximity of your bare chest.

“Hells no!” Karlach answers immediately. “That’s getting off too easy– we need actual consequences here.”

Astarion, to your immense suspicion, has yet to say anything. When you look over to him, he’s inspecting you with narrowed eyes, hands folded over his facedown cards. The corner of his lip lifts as you make eye contact with him, and he asks, “What’s the matter, love? Running away from me, are you?”

It’s as you thought. He doesn’t want to strip everyone down– he wants to strip you down. “Why would you think that?” you counter, crossing your arms in challenge. “Are you so certain you’ll win again?”

“I’ve got it!” Karlach exclaims. “You need to be the one to strip someone else down. And you’ve got to go real slow.”

You’d already been staring at Astarion’s face when Karlach made the declaration, so you immediately clock the slight bit of annoyance that furrows his brow. Everyone save Lae’zel and him was down to their underwear, so it was easy enough to imagine how that particular exercise would go.

Karlach, you’re a genius, you think. Aloud, you simply say, “Sounds fair to me.”

“Ridiculous,” Astarion mutters. You strongly suspect he would rather you reserve any undressing for him, but you’ve already folded and he’s likely already cheated his hand.

Everyone completes their draws, hands are placed face up on the table, and Astarion’s ludicrous bout of good luck is staring at you all once more– this time in the form of a straight flush.

Lae’zel slams her hands on the table. “You swindler,” she growls, pointing at Astarion with an accusatory finger.

The vampire raises his hands in defense, leaning away from the table. “I am nothing of the sort!” He does shoot you a wary look before clearing his throat. “And what of our lovely leader?”

It’s time for your punishment. “Do I get to pick, Karlach?” you ask, looking between your companions in turn.

“Of course not!” she says, clapping you on the back. “Let’s draw cards for the privilege of your nimble fingers, shall we?”

Everyone agrees easily enough, and it’s not long before they’re all pulling from the stack, the highest card to be the ‘victor.’ Lae’zel draws a queen, Karlach an eight, Gale a four, Wyll a jack, and Shadowheart an ace.

You turn to the cleric, who seems entirely unaffected by the whole ordeal. “Would you prefer the top or bottom?” she asks you, with a slight purse to her lips.

Despite his earlier misgivings, Astarion’s quick with a sultry sounding retort, “Oh I think we both know which you prefer, darling?” Karlach can’t help the snort that escapes her any more than Gale can hide the startled cough.

You ignore him and the rest of your companions, getting up and walking to where Shadowheart is seated. “Let’s just do the top,” you say, moving her hair out of the way.

“Very well,” she responds, sitting up a bit straighter for you. “But be quick about it.”

“Oh no you don’t,” Karlach immediately interrupts. “Be as slow as possible, soldier. Or you’ll have to do it again!”

“Don’t worry, love! You know exactly how slow to go,” Astarion quips, looking at you through his lashes.

You ignore his quip. To appease Karlach, you make a show of it: delicately removing each strap, undoing the back latch. All the while, you hold eye contact with your vampiric lover, as if taunting him, saying ‘this is what you get for cheating.’ He watches, lips making a hard, annoyed line. Shadowheart’s top removed, you return to your seat.

Once everyone else has relinquished their articles of clothing, the game is down to you, Karlach, Shadowheart, Gale, and, of course, Astarion.

Halsin places an arm around an embarrassed Wyll’s shoulder. “Don’t you worry, my friend. Now you are free of any constraints, allowed to observe and appreciate the game as one would the natural world.”

“Sounds lovely, Halsin,” he answers, ducking his head a bit. “I think.”

Lae’zel, for her part, seems perfectly fine to have lost the headband, not any more naked than she was before. “Tchk, hurry and finish the game. Why is everyone in Faerun so interested in the nude form?” It’s a fair question, but none of you answer it as another set of hands is dealt. 

You observe Astarion the entire time, noting every subtle movement of his hands, watching as you try to pin down an extra card or a slip of his sleeve. But he’s ready for this, looking at you as he inspects each new card. “So, darling,” he drawls. “Are you planning on folding again?”

“That depends,” you reply, looking at your cards quickly. Nothing too impressive, but better than the last hand. “Are you planning on cheating again?”

“Gods above,” he mutters, fanning himself with his cards. “My poor, undead heart can’t take much more of these accusations.” Your eyes catch a slight jerk of his hand, and you know what you must do. 

“I’d like to fold again,” you say, looking back to the tiefling woman on your right.

“Alright, soldier,” she agrees with a snicker. The glimmer in her eyes is enough to show that she knows you’re up to something. 

“May I fold too?” Gale grumbles, now truly down to his last magical pair of underpants.

Karlach thinks about it for a moment, realizing the flaw in her plan. “No,” she finally states. “Only one person per round.”

Everyone finishes drawing and plays their hands. Unlike last time, everyone turns to Gale, who has won with a pair of tens. “I won?” he asks, turning toward Astarion, whose expression is quite blank. His hand had been miserable, as if he’d drawn for worse cards– which you suspect he might have.

“Let’s see who I shall strip then,” you say, laying out the stack for the remaining three. You already know who will emerge victorious, sure that there’s an ace up his sleeve at this very moment. Shadowheart draws a seven, Karlach a ten, and, low and behold, Astarion draws an ace.

“Aren’t I the luckiest vampire in Baldur’s Gate?” he says, smiling up at you as you walk around the table to him. “What will you be taking?”

You tilt your head at him, debating the possibilities. But you start simple, slowly, carefully removing the blouse from his head. The entire time, you smile with satisfaction. Because you know you’ve won.

Shadowheart and Karlach now sit there, naked as the day they entered this realm of existence. The tiefling gives you another clap on the back with a laugh, as she whispers loudly at you, “Avenge me, soldier!”

And avenge you will. 

You fold another four times. Each time, Astarion somehow, miraculously, loses. And each time he sighs deeply, dramatically as you approach him to peel off yet another piece of clothing. 

The second time, he whispers, “You cheeky thing, how could you?

On the third time, he whispers, “Don’t you want me to win?”

On the fourth time, he whispers, “Fine, but don’t think you’ll get out of this.”

That’s how he loses his greaves, his pants, his socks, and a necklace, leaving him in only his bright blue briefs.

When you go to fold for a fifth time, ready to remove Astarion from the game once and for all, the man sighs before even viewing his cards and says, “I fold.”

You look at Karlach, as if she might be able to save you, but she only shrugs at you. Her eyes seem to say, ‘It’s in the rules now!’ 

And you suppose it is. So you and Gale each discard, draw, and play your hands. Your three of a kind beats his pair, and Astarion reluctantly strips the wizard of his last, purple pair of enchanted briefs.

I’ll return it to him after the game, you think, as Astarion deposits the pair in front of you with a smirk.

“I’m a few articles of clothing poorer, but I do believe I did rather well, didn’t I?” Gale says, sitting back down, wincing slightly as his bare cheeks make contact with the wooden chair. 

“As well as you can when that one cheats,” Shadowheart says, gesturing toward Astarion with her glass of wine.

“I am innocent until proven guilty,” Astarion replies, sitting back down in his seat, ready for the final showdown.

Now it’s just you and Astarion facing off. You, with a pair of underwear and socks. Him, reduced to his underpants.

“Oh, darling,” he says, leaning back enough that his entire bare torso is on full display. “Do you really think you’ll be able to defeat me in a game like this?”

“I think I like my odds,” you say, leaning back in much the same way. “Karlach, would you do us the honor of dealing?”

“My pleasure,” she responds, cards shooting out of her hands at an alarming speed.

Everyone watches on bated breath as you both draw your hands, look over them silently. You really do like your odds now. Cheating will prove hard for Astarion to do without sleeves to hide cards, and everyone is watching him carefully, waiting to catch the pilferer in the act.

Good, you think, slipping a few cards out from under the table. Two can play at this game, and only one of us waited until the right moment to cheat.

You deposit your extra cards subtly back on the discard pile when no one is looking, and fan your remaining hand out�� what stares back at you is an impeccable, unbelievable royal flush. You know you’re going to win, there’s no doubt about it, so you allow yourself a little taunt. “Now that you’re about to lose, my love… whatever compelled you to cheat? What do you gain out of this?”

Astarion looks back at you, eyes straining around the edges as he debates what to discard. “Not that I cheated,” he starts, with a smile that comes out more of a grimace. “But I thought it might be nice to rightfully win one of your undergarments. And perhaps to keep it out of the hands of these lecherous fools.” He gives everyone else at the table a glare in turn before discarding and drawing back up.

Oh, you think. That’s sweet, in a weird, slightly concerning way. Much like the man who now turns back to you, a wide, unabashed smile on his pale face. “I see,” is all that you say in response. You look down at the royal flush in your hand. You can’t lose with this, and you can’t very well try to cheat again when you’re both done drawing.

You turn to Karlach. “Can I still fold?”

“What!?” she cries, looking at you like you’re insane. “Why would you do that, soldier? You’ve nearly got ‘im!”

“Darling,” the man calls from across the table. You look into his fierce, red eyes, narrowed with determination. “Don’t you dare lose to me on purpose. Especially when I know that you’ve beaten me at my own game.”

The smirk he gives you is all the encouragement you need. “Fine,” you say, laying out your preposterous, beautiful hand. Everyone at the table gasps, save Astarion. He only looks at you warmly before laying out his sad, single pair of nines.

“Well played,” he says, standing up. A second later, his blue underwear is off, like a flag of surrender. In all of his naked glory, he walks around the table, places his briefs in front of you, and smiles. “I’ll get you next time, my sweet.”

You look up at him, aware that all of your companions are watching the exchange with rapt attention, but also finding that you can’t bring yourself to care. “You can have me now, if you’d like.”

“Lady of the Moon save me… please control yourselves,” Shadowheart says, downing the rest of her wine glass. She stands up, ignoring the dizzying display of love next to her. “That’s enough of that game, wouldn’t you all say?”

“Yes, why don’t we find something a bit… warmer to play?” Wyll suggests, standing up after Shadowheart. Halsin, Lae’zel and Gale follow, leaving you, Karlach, and Astarion behind. 

The tiefling usually knows when to leave the two of you to your own devices, but can’t resist one last comment. “Thanks for avenging me, soldier,” she says, wrapping you in a warm, bare bear hug. At Astarion’s low, annoyed groan, she releases you, laughing. “Join us again once you’re done doing whatever weird flirting you get up to!”

She leaves the two you be, and you turn toward Astarion. “So,” you say, scratching the back of your head ruefully. “Was that too much?”

He shakes his head at you, white curls bouncing lightly. “No, I’d rather say I deserved it a bit– But only a bit.”

You laugh at the admission and hold out a hand for Astarion to bring out of your chair. He takes it, pulling you up and into his arms. Your bare chests press together a moment, and the chill of his skin on yours leaves goosebumps all along your arms. “Thank you,” you murmur, realizing that your faces are too close, skin too exposed.

Astarion doesn’t seem to mind, leaning a bit further into you. “You’re quite welcome, my dear.” He drops his voice to a whisper, meant only for your ears. “What do you say we finish our ‘weird flirting’ before we rejoin the group?”

“Only if you promise to keep the sleight of hand to a minimum in our next game,” you whisper, looking between his red eyes.

He sighs, his cool breath tickling your face. “Very well.”

“And next time, just ask me for the underpants,” you grumble, before finally pressing your lips into his.

[pjoxreader]

PJO Boys Reacting to a Period Cramp Simulator (200 Follower Special)

((Thank you all for 200 followers! This is just something a little silly I wrote up but I hope you like it! 🥹🎉))

Leo Valdez

-Leo is fireproof. Not zap proof. He tapped out at level 5 as he started to curl up in on himself as he both cried out in pain and laughter between the breaks, as honestly he was surprised it hurt this badly. Was never ever going to bother Piper during that time of month again, his life would be on the line. Made it to level 5 before he tapped out.

Frank Zhang 

-Someone save this man. Doubles over in pain curls up into a ball as he lets out a low groan of pain until someone manages to grab the remote from Frank’s rolling around. Ends up dealing with it the longest sense he was writhing and dragging the remote with him. He managed to get to level 9 only because he accidentally rolled over it and turned it up.

Percy Jackson

-Tries to keep a straight face, but once it gets to the higher levels his lip starts twitching. Annabeth gets annoyed and puts it to ten making him fall off his chair with a bunch of apologies begging them to turn it off. Got to level 10 but pissed Annabeth off.

Jason Grace

-Goes in expecting it to not be that bad, taps out the second it gets past the fifth level. Is partly convinced that that’s a torture method to get people to talk. Made it to level 6 before he forfeited deciding it really wasn’t worth it.

Nico Di Angelo

-Manages to keep a straight face but his leg gives him away by bouncing, much to his embarrassment. He ends up shadow traveling a lot for different sanitary products. Because honestly it’s worth losing the energy if he ends up on the girls good side when they’re in that much pain. Made it to level 9.

Will Solace

-His medical books and knowledge could not prepare him for this. Managed to at least make it to 7 before he couldn’t take it anymore, honestly felt like throwing up and almost did. Thankfully he didn’t at the very least but he was definitely giving the ladies the stronger pain medication for cramps from now on. Screw whatever the book said. Level 7 before giving up.

Grover Underwood

-Was the most nervous to do this and went last, he only got to four before he gave up but no one had the heart to tell him he got last. Since he went through with it and was nothing but kind to the girls during that time of month even before this, the girls unanimously agreed to say he made it to level 6. Much to Leo’s annoyance who complained about it being rigged for months. Made it to level 4 but pity and love got him to level 6.

~Masterlist & Rules~

Like my writing? Please consider sending me a Ko-fi! ☕

[writing-in-sin]

Heart Pirates Fic Idea / Theory: Davy Back Fight

This idea and maybe even theory is tied with my fic ideas Locker and Evolution

The idea is this. Considering the legends about Davy Jones that was mentioned back in the Foxy Pirates arc, I thought of how the Hearts and the Tang sunk into the ocean

And whatever or whoever sunk into the sea, Davy Jones would not return

Cue a Davy Back Fight between Law and Davy Jones himself. But of course, its not easy. Because how does one win against the Reaper of the Deep?

By becoming the new Reaper himself, of course

Its crazy and impossible

But Law is a D and amongst them all, he's the one who revels in death. Not as a means for nihilistic destruction...at least not anymore. He's always been fascinated with Death ever since he was kid and having the opportunity to become Death himself especially as a means to protect those he loves is not something he'd pass up

That desire becomes clear to Davy Jones as the game continues and to someone who sees being the Reaper as a curse he never wanted, he secretly hoped that even though he can never forfeit or foist his existence as the Reaper to someone else unless they win fair and square, that Law would win

That he'd be the new Reaper

And Law did just that

He wins the Davy Back Fight and gets his submarine and crew back. However, the consequences for that victory is Law becoming the new Reaper of the deep

Something that he happily accepts, to the surprise of many save for Bepo, Peguin and Shacchi

Law would now reside within the sea bed, the border between Life and Death and because of that, Law is now dead which is a trigger to Luffy's breakdown when he felt Law's Voice falls quiet which he refused to believe until the news confirms it

(That's all I've got for now, thanks for reading this far!)

[insomniac-101]

Metacrisis Doctor Character Analysis

Sooooo… I heard some of you are still on the fence about Tentoo.

Now, why you would be is completely understandable. I mean, it took me rewatching the show as an adult to really understand the nuance behind his ending but it’s been years, and it truly saddens me to see that there is still so much confusion surrounding his existence. Especially since he essentially reaffirms the overarching message of the show, and without him, it would not be as impactful.

But no fear! I love analyzing this era in particular and so, it would be an honor to share with all of you my interpretation of how he fits in Ten’s overall development as well as the potential questions raised by his existence. 

After all, he is such a great addition to canon and so I wish to spread my excitement now that there is a chance we might see more of him!

(P.s I swear I will get to Ten eventually lol but his character in particular tends to mesh into other character arcs so much, that it is easier to address them in parts rather than all together.)

Now then, let’s set something straight from the get-go. 

Tentoo’s existence does not get in the way of the Doctor and Rose’s romance. It is actually quite the opposite, it only goes to reaffirm how much they love one another. 

How they were essentially made for one another (Literally and figuratively lmao).

So much so, that Ten was essentially split into two as a means of holding onto the hope of keeping her in his life.

To reduce his existence as a mere love rival, in my opinion, is such a disservice to the narrative because not only does it imply that Rose’s ultimate choice to be with Tentoo is shallow but it also does not take into account crucial aspects of the Doctor’s character arc overall. Who by extension, also applies to Tentoo.

During his tenure as the Doctor, we observe Ten's strong inclination to merge with humanity, as he fervently yearns for it. That increasing temptation is what often puts him at odds with his role in the universe, and in turn, compels him to uphold strict barriers between himself and other humans. Even if it means causing harm to himself and the people he holds dear

As the only time lord in the universe, he cannot afford the luxury of possessing a human life, so he attempts to convince himself that his fascination with our way of life is merely admiration, rather than a genuine desire to experience it firsthand. Thus, he considers himself an outsider because he realizes that if he were to succumb to his desire, his happiness in experiencing it would be fleeting.

Despite his longing to experience a different way of life, he cannot bring himself to give up his identity as the last living time lord, as that would mean forfeiting an essential aspect of himself and the final vestiges of his people. Thus, although he may yearn to live a more leisurely existence, he would never do so, as it would entail sacrificing too much. 

Not to mention, it would mean pitting his own needs against those of the world, and his selflessness would never allow that to happen.

At least, not yet anyways.

In spite of his upbringing, his rebellious attitude that made him stand out amongst other time lords made him curious and flighty. Often roaming the universe in an attempt to find strange occurrences that counter his understanding of how it works. He finds joy in living a life on the run, and for a while that is all he really wanted.

However, with constantly moving, there comes a point where one realizes that there is no one to return to. That the thrills only serve as a distraction of what is actually compelling him not to remain stationary, and by not stopping to consider what he is leaving behind, he is not being conscious of the consequences. 

The Doctor's decision to become a wanderer stands in stark contrast to the nature of his people.

A problem that only worsens once the time war effectively orphans him.

Traveling and saving others allows him to put aside all his self-loathing and forget what it feels like to be utterly alone, but it is not enough to fill the void of loss. Don’t get me wrong, I am not saying this is a solely negative thing by any means, but the manner in which he utilizes it is harmful because it comes at the cost of never changing his tendencies to self-sabotage. Given that he doesn't stick around long enough to have it catch up to him.

Frankly, it enables his assertion that he doesn’t deserve happiness and so he never seeks it out, in spite of knowing what it is he wants.

In his eyes, it is easier to let go than to let in. 

To fall deeper to cynicism and negativity because it protects him from further pain

 And boy does the narrative pull the ultimate uno card on him, flipping his whole perception on his manner of living by introducing one major character. 

The individual, who practically embodies this very temptation is none other than Rose Tyler.

It is her introduction into his life that almost seems to further prod at this desire of his. Before,it appeared that he watched human life from a distance simply because it was less painful than being alone and grieving the loss of his own people. But with her, he is left to consider whether he could actually experience something as deeply fulfilling as love. Whether a man drenched in the blood of his kind is worthy of change and forgiveness. It is because of this that his final act as Nine is one of self-sacrifice, as he dies hoping that this new form will embrace the humanity and kindness that she utilized to save him in his darkest moments

But between him and humanity will always be a barrier, which is all the more tragic once one considers how Ten was born out of Nine’s pursuit of it. It makes the unattainable nature of it, all the more hurtful.

Now I can name multiple examples of this longing being implied all throughout the RTD era but I assume most people know what they are. I mean they’re not exactly subtle lol but I urge you to keep those in mind as I continue.

With that in mind, however, I can now address the most overt display of this desire of his and that is none other than in the episode “Human Nature.”

Within this story, we are introduced to John Smith. A persona, that was curated by the Tardis as a means of saving him from falling victim to a gang of evil shapeshifting aliens. Here, we are shown a version of the Doctor that is weirdly familiar but at the same time, completely different.

However what I make of these differences is not really to prove that they’re so different that they're incomparable, but rather that they share way more than one would think at first glance.

John Smith is unremarkable. He is kind, intelligent, witty, and imaginative in the ways the doctor is but his demeanor is drastically different. More often than not, being seen as quiet and shy, and more of a follower than a leader.

I don’t think him taking on the role of a soldier in his final moments is a coincidence. Rather it is a testament to who the time lord is: a traumatized man who has a knack for finding himself in the same position over and over again because he has a tendency of repeating mistakes.

Think about it, in the war, the Doctor was not one who stood to the side and never took part in the violence. He admits that he took an active part in the fight, with him being the one who ultimately stopped it against his better judgment. This is to say that this more obedient version of himself (that seemingly seems fine with physical punishment and sacrificing the life of his students, if it is not under his call) isn’t really all that foreign to us given that at one point, he assumed a similar role in the time war. His ability to resort to violence, even when human, is a testament to this. That he is bound to his past deeds and that a human life will not change that he is deeply changed by this event in time lord history.

He is more prone to violence when prompted and he is not one to disregard an order that is given to him. He even seems to be more classist by nature of living in the current time period. So much so that he doesn’t seem to form much of a bond with Martha in spite of them spending so much time together under her employment.

Although he is brave when it matters, there are moments when Ten can be rather cowardly. And that holds true to both John and the Doctor, with both seemingly running the moment they are confronted with the consequences that come as a result of their impulsive decisions. This knack for running from their problems never impedes their awareness that what they are doing is incorrect but nonetheless, it's that temptation to defy the unavoidable that makes them avoid confrontation. Resorting to denial as a scapegoat, before ultimately returning to do what is right. 

While the Doctor's innate selflessness sets him apart from others of his kind, he is still susceptible to making similar mistakes.

That haughty, and arrogant nature of his people are the very same qualities that can be found in him. This is especially shown through the manner in which John interacts with people he perceives as below him.

The culture of time lords is quite classist by nature. They assumed themselves to be the rulers of the universe and claimed superiority over other races because of their advancements. It is because of this complete disregard for others that aren’t themselves that they suffer greatly in the war.

With that said, it is because of this that I think he is able to assume a more indifferent demeanor towards the servants in his household. Mainly because a huge part of who the Doctor became was a direct result of the opposition he held toward the beliefs of his own people. He found their rules arbitrary and outdated, but just because he knew better does not mean he is exempt from repeating their mistakes even when he is conscious of who he is.

No this manner of assuming self importance takes on a different form, when he is aware of it.

He often assumes himself untouchable and the wisest in the room, and wields his status as a time lord as a means of making sly comments toward humankind. Of course, one could argue it is harmless as it does not come from a place of malicious intent. However his assumed superiority can make him incapable of recognising his own faults as a person, which can lead to disastrous results. Especially when he seemingly doesn’t consider the consequences of his involvement in other people’s lives.

Something that Joan points out.

“Answer me this, just one question, that’s all. If the Doctor never had visited us…never chosen this place on a whim, would anyone here have died?”

To completely deprive him of his timelord nature, would mean to leave him vulnerable to adopting the very same attitudes he resented in his own culture. This is why John Smith does not respect the opinions of his employees, in spite of knowing better than to underestimate the importance of the people around him. It would make him unable to recognize the patterns of discrimination elsewhere as he is no longer privy to the wisdom he gathered from his years of living.

By completely adopting humanity, he is none the wiser to fall into their faults as individuals.

That being said, this quiet side of him is really not that strange either once one considers that we have seen that Ten in particular has a knack for hiding his feelings behind a mask of cheerfulness. This version of himself may not be boisterous and loud, but that does not make him any less thoughtful. Shown to have strong stances on certain matters even if he doesn't share them with others. He is more honest with his feelings, and with this comes perhaps the biggest indicator that John Smith shares a lot more with the Doctor than we initially thought.

John Smith falls in love.

It is no coincidence that in this very episode, he develops romantic feelings for the school nurse and he has a dream about Rose Tyler. One where she keeps walking away but all the more, he is motivated to follow. All for the sake of recovering a “perfect Rose.”

Even when he is fully human and not aware of who she is, there is a part of the Doctor that fiercely hangs onto her, manifesting in his dreams. The thought of being with her and finding her, is of the utmost importance even when he cannot seemingly remember why. Which goes to show you just how much the Doctor treasures the love he has for her. It is she, that is able to tempt these feelings even in her absence because she is the reason they exist to begin with.

This inclusion of her in the story ties his pursuit of humanity into a pursuit for her. Making both the main motivation behind his need to experience it, even if he is not fully aware of why.

“You knew this all along and yet you watched while Miss Redfern and I …”

“I didn’t know how to stop you. He gave me a list of things to watch out for, but that wasn’t included.”

“What falling in love? That didn’t even occur to him?

“No”

“Then what sort of man is that?”

This is why John Smith expressing horror at the thought of there being a version of himself that cannot love someone is so heartbreaking. Because through him we know more than ever that that is not true, that he is more than capable of loving others as the Doctor but the problem is that he never would allow himself to do so. It is not a matter of whether or not he can, but rather why he can't.

When John chooses to sacrifice himself, it mirrors the same actions the Doctor takes in his present life. Choosing to leave behind what he wants for the sake of what the universe requires him to do. 

So when he reasons with Joan that John Smith is still a part of him, he means it. For it is an expression of the Doctor at his most vulnerable and honest, that allows for the existence of someone like John Smith. But alas, his life is not a life he can assume given his alien nature.

But with this choice to live on, as is, we are only left to come up with a single conclusion.

In order to live a life that is both fulfilling and meaningful, the Doctor can neither be fully human nor a timelord. 

Although he is a timelord, the overwhelming sense of loneliness that he experiences is debilitating. He can try to reason his way around needing companionship and love, but no amount of thinking will deny that it is something he desperately craves.

Humanity provides him with all the necessary attributes he lacks, but in exchange, it demands that he sets aside his principles as a protector of time. To put aside his own fears of seeing those he loves wither away if it means he'll get to know them for the entirety of their short lives. 

Individually, achieving either one is impossible since pursuing a single path would leave the other side of himself unfulfilled. He is at war with himself, essentially.

Therefore, he must endeavor to discover a balance between the two divergent viewpoints, instead of attempting to abandon one in favor of the other.

….Guess who embodies middle ground is?

Tentoo represents that balance, down to the biological level.

In order to understand why though you have to understand one crucial detail: Ten and Tentoo are the same person.

What Tentoo is, in relation to Ten, is himself lol

A regeneration that went wrong because the regeneration energy that was meant to heal the time lord body, was siphoned into his once freshly regenerated hand. In other words, instead of remaining within one body like the usual regenerative process, it was put into a separate vessel that came from the original body. Which allowed it to regenerate the body it was missing, and essentially created what would be a second Doctor.

The reason why this process differed from previous regenerations is due to the fact that the transferred regeneration energy was already partially depleted, resulting in a reduced dosage that could facilitate partial healing but not a complete regeneration.

(It was established prior to the Christmas invasion that there are limitations to the cellular energy that a time lord uses to regenerate, mainly in the sense that it can run out. When in small quantities, however, it can be used to heal smaller injuries if it is used within the first 15 hours of a regeneration cycle. It's this small amount he has left that allows him to regenerate the hand he lost to begin with.)

We are aware of this fact because the time lord Doctor utilized a portion of the energy to recover from the Dalek's attack, but not a sufficient amount to trigger a full regeneration. This is why he sends the rest into his severed hand, because if not, the cycle would have proceeded.

Due to this, however, the energy seems to not be able to proceed with anything it was planned for. So it sits on standby, not by choice, but because the hand itself is technically a regenerated hand. It can't do much other than wait until it receives more energy from the original time lord body or find another source of energy that is compatible to recover the body of the disembodied hand in its entirety.

So what ends up happening?

It's Donna.

Donna is what ends up happening.

Upon touching it out of curiosity, Donna appears to experience no immediate negative effects.. This serves as another indication that the remaining regenerative energy was minimal, as we, the viewers, are well aware that the standard dosage would be detrimental to humans.

However, this is where it gets interesting because seemingly the energy is utilized in a manner that is unlike any prior regeneration process. 

As previously mentioned, it can be deduced that the reason why other time lords never considered becoming human as a way to avoid regeneration was due to their sense of superiority. They did not view humans as equals, therefore, a human existence would not be regarded as advantageous.

Furthermore, their society places little importance on outward appearance due to the frequency with which time lords undergo transformations. Thus, this occurrence is primarily a result of Ten's deviation from their viewpoint on regeneration. He perceives it as a form of dying, akin to the experience of a human, even though this does not apply to him.

It is worth considering the anatomy of a time lord when attempting to comprehend how he appeared to transform into a hybrid. According to our understanding, although they appear human on the outside, a time lord's body contains numerous organs that are absent in a human body. As a result, it is theoretically more intricate than that of a human, but at the same time, similar enough to be somewhat compatible as a point of comparison.

Given the limited amount of energy remaining, it would be logical for the energy to use a human body as a template when attempting to essentially create a new body out of nothing.Not only because Donna was the only one available to touch it, but because the anatomical similarities as well as the less complex nature of a human body would prove to be easier to make than a fully timelord one.

In other words, the regenerative process was utilized as a means of healing both bodies without resulting in a complete regeneration, which is what makes this instance unique.

(that we know from prior scenes, at times, requires so much energy to heal that that it is capable of damaging the Tardis)

This is why he says that he essentially came out of Donna. Because in a way, he did. His body was fashioned off of her biological makeup as a means of compensating for the lack of cellular energy used to heal his body normally.

This is why it in turn makes her half time lord, because the energy changed her according to the metacrisis. Transferring Time lord DNA into her, as a means of making up for the loss of DNA she experienced in the process.

But where the two differ is in creation. Donna was already human. Herbody is that of a full human, not of a hybrid. Her brain in particular is not capable of handling the centuries of knowledge/memory of a timelord and so that is why her body eventually gives out. That is why, the Doctor has to lock her memories away.

Because theoretically, it is easier to make an immortal body mortal. Given that their body is meant to be extremely resistant to factors that would usually decimate a mortal one, but the same cannot be said about the opposite as we are far more delicate.

Tentoo though, he's chillin. 

Not only because his body is able to effectively restore itself with that leftover energy and the human boost, but also because his entire body is made to handle both timelord and human aspects. He will not suffer the same fate as Donna because he is born as both. 

They're in perfect harmony within his body, unlike Donna whose human aspect was being taken over by the superior time lord genes.

This is why they are fundamentally the same person: Ten and Tentoo.

Because not only do they come from the same body, but the same regenerative energy as well. This is also why they share the same memories. The regeneration energy appeared after he was shot by the dalek ray, and so, that moment was effectively the point by which their shared consciousness stopped. No longer existing in a sole body, but two.

It is because of this same shared energy that the appearance of neither changes: because it was utilized to heal both vessels and abort the regenerative process.

(Also it technically did take up a regeneration canonically hence why I called it a sort of botched regeneration. Which would make sense, given the amount of energy that was used to carry out the healing of two bodies.)

In summary, everything that makes the Doctor, the Doctor, is still in both bodies.

They're not twins, they're the same man through and through. Down to the manner in which they're born, with both effectively existing out of their love for Rose and humanity.

In the same way that the doctor claims that Tentoo was born out of hatred and war, it is his love and wishes to appease her that spawned his existence. So really the differences between the two are almost non-existent if not for one crucial detail: unlike the time lord, Tentoo is not bound by the obligation to serve the universe.

This is where things get fascinating.

Now that there are two bodies, they essentially function as parallel versions of the same man. 

They are different, not because they're not both the Doctor, but because their circumstances allow them to make different choices. From there on out, both will inevitably grow to be different people. As Tentoo essentially embodies the most authentic representation of a human Doctor, having had the option to abandon his responsibility as the guardian of the universe, he provides us with an insight into what the Doctor would be like at his most honest.

That is why Tentoo acts on impulse and commits genocide. Not because Ten wouldn't have done the same given the chance to give into the temptation, but because the fact that he is not fully time lord affords him the privilege to do whatever the hell he wants. He is not bound to the obligation to put the wellbeing of the universe above his own personal interest, so he erredicates them as a means of protecting the people he loves. Choosing to prioritize the people he cares for even if it comes at the expense of the dalek race

He is, effectively, free.

This is why him choosing to spend his life with Rose is such a major decision. Why when prompted by Donna, he chooses to confess his love for Rose in her ear. Despite having the freedom to choose anything, what he desires most is her. 

This revelation solidifies that this Doctor also has deep love for her, and it also implies that this is likely what the Doctor would have chosen as well, had he been given the option to leave his responsibilities behind.

Through Tentoo, we get insight into who the Doctor would be if not for his duty. A person who has the means to express themselves without any apprehension of potentially outliving their loved ones. In simpler terms, someone who can evolve and grow without the burden of guilt for being the only survivor of their kind constantly plaguing their mind. At present, this version of himself will never be alone again and can fully immerse himself in a dimension of existence that was previously only possible through John Smith.

This is why the Doctor seemingly resents him because he wishes he had the freedom to choose this life. 

It’s due to this that the notion of them being romantic rivals is also ludicrous because they are the same man. 

Had it been under different circumstances, the one who would have confessed his feelings and given Rose the chance to choose would have been the timelord. But because he is not afforded the liberty to not consider his alien nature and by extension his obligations, he cannot bring himself to initiate it. 

This is why Rose choosing to kiss Tentoo in front of the time lord doctor is crucial because it is her way of expressing that the love she extends to Tentoo is also his. That she understands that they're the same man but that ultimately, she understands that his duty is what needs to be prioritized. It is a goodbye, but also an act of gratitude for baring the extent of his feelings to her through Tentoo.

Their happy ending is not coming at the cost of Ten’s, no, rather it is what ensures that he will have one at all.

But consider this, does this not raise some major questions about who the meta crisis doctor can become?

Think about it.

Since he is no longer bound to the role of the universe's protector, there is no longer a necessity for him to act in accordance with his previous principles or obligations to do what is right.

Although Ten usually aimed to make selfless choices, he must now prioritize his own life. The stakes have shifted, and he can no longer place others' needs above his own, especially since his newfound life with his loved ones can be taken away at any moment.

As a human, he would come to understand that he cannot simply leave behind the problems he creates for others to handle. He must face the consequences of his actions and learn to maintain good relationships with those around him. With staying in one place, he bears the responsibility of building trust with others and can no longer solely rely on his reputation to get by.

Remember, he is effectively starting from scratch in Pete’s universe. He has no background on their history nor the tools he wielded when they first landed there. While waiting for the tardis to grow, he would have to effectively assume a human life until it reaches maturity.

With that in mind, he also no longer has any semblance of power over anyone. He is practically on the same level of awareness as anyone else albeit with more wisdom. Meaning he cannot hold what he knows about the future over others, and will have to adjust on collaborating with others to get things done even if it comes at the expense of his own ego lmao.

Most importantly, he can no longer stew in that self-hatred he is so privy to, and with time he will have to relearn what it means to forgive not only others but himself. To put aside that hatred and embrace the time he has with the woman he loves, even if it means confronting parts of himself he is not fond of. This will involve intimately acquainting himself with the perspective of humans to a degree that was impossible before. 

Such as in the way we humans seemingly uphold survival above all else.

Or how our morality can be very fluid in certain situations, as we are not afforded the guarantee of another life.

He will have to learn to cope with the helplessness all mortals feel when confronted by death and that in turn, could either harden him further or make him more aware of his own faults as an outsider. To understand where he went wrong in assuming that his human companions would sacrifice their perspective as a means of adapting his own.

That isn't to say that it is all bad though.

Just different.

Because this change in circumstance can either prove to be very detrimental to Ten or beneficial, and it all depends on how he manages to cope with it.

It makes him unpredictable, in a way that Ten was never afforded the privilege to be.

This could potentially demonstrate how a harmonious balance between Ten's human and Time Lord aspects would manifest in reality. To see what it would actually mean to have a time lord assume a life as a mortal. Reason being, that up until then, he only really saw humanity from a distance. This experience can aid him in developing a deeper understanding of humanity and its shortcomings as well as those of his own people.

Admittedly, John Smith served as a reference point for us. However, that modified version of the Doctor was oblivious to the gravity of his own existence. He possessed his own unique identity, with his Time Lord essence locked away. This highlights why adopting a purely human existence would never be suitable for him, as it would entail relinquishing his Time Lord perspective.

The sorrow of Ten's story lies in the fact that he could never truly embody both aspects of himself simultaneously. He was always bound by his alien nature and unable to fully embrace his human longings. This is why his story appears to have two different outcomes - with his human persona living a joyous existence, while his Time Lord form regenerates in isolation.

In his final moments, he chooses to reject this fate and resist the need for balance, instead becoming increasingly desperate to avoid regeneration. Consequently, he succumbs to the same power-hungry inclinations as his predecessors, as he tries to exert control over his fate without addressing the underlying problem.

“Well exactly look at you! Not remotely important! But me? I can do so much more! So much more! but this is what I get. My reward, well it’s not fair!....I’ve lived too long”

He could have done so much more, done so much differently if only he would have not put himself in a box. He did what was right, what was proper, yet the sacrifices done at his expense led to the same outcome.

The issue lies in his unwillingness to make compromises and achieve a state of equilibrium between his two perspectives. Instead of seeking balance, he retreats to his alien and disconnected nature, which creates a barrier between him and those around him. His decision to not confront his fate as a solitary wanderer earlier, prevented him from expressing gratitude to those who loved him when they needed it most. His need for distance denied them the chance to truly comprehend his appreciation.

He is solitary because he never allowed himself to consider an alternative, and this realization dawns on him too late. Now that everyone has departed to follow their own paths, he finds himself back where he began. 

His failure to take personal risks and develop attachments has fulfilled the very curse he sought to break.

Ultimately, what frightened him the most was not the idea of losing the people he grew to love, but the prospect of being alone while they continued to live on without him.

“Yeah what about you? Who have you got now?”

“No one, i’m traveling alone. I thought it was better alone..but I did some things that went wrong. I need..”

The central message of the RTD era is that happiness often comes at a cost and not every enjoyable experience will lead to a happy ending. However, the theme is not that an unhappy ending diminishes the value or significance of the moment, but quite the opposite - that the joy and meaning of the experience make it worth the cost, regardless of the outcome.

The RTD era's narrative encourages embracing the uncertainty of life and finding joy in the present moment, even if the outcome is uncertain or potentially disappointing. These moments can help alleviate the pain of difficult times, inspire risk-taking, and lead to unexpected achievements, ultimately leading to a more fulfilling life rather than a long one.

Create a life that is customized to your individuality and maturity gained through experiences, rather than one that fixates on regret and what-ifs.

The Doctor finds it difficult to fully embrace the present moment due to the constant reminder that everything is fleeting and temporary, causing him to always be looking towards the future.

Tentoo, on the other hand, is anchored in the present because his perspective will evolve through his exposure to humanity. He will learn to fully embrace the joy and sorrow of living life to the fullest, cherishing every moment, even the mundane ones. He knows that life is temporary and that every day is a precious gift, which is why he will live each moment to its fullest. Despite the inevitable challenges that will come his way, he will remain optimistic, confident that his joy will only grow as he continues to live.

His ability to balance both his human and Time Lord nature allows him to fully embrace all aspects of his life, without giving preference to one over the other. Which in turn, further establishes his unique identity and reinforces the qualities that made him a beloved incarnation of the Doctor.

Tentoo is able to love without hesitation, expressing his affection to those he cares for and acknowledging the importance of emotions that were once discouraged amongst his own kind.

In other words, be Tentoo.

(not the mass murder part though lol)

Be the version of yourself that doesn't hold back and don't commit the same mistakes that the Doctor did out of fear.

So yall be more kind to my boy!

[literary-illuminati]

Book Review 43 - Even Though I Knew The End by C. L. Polk

Oh this was fun. Never would have heard of it if it hadn’t been nominated for a Hugo, and devoured it in the course of a computer-less Sunday afternoon. It wasn’t exactly reaching for the stars, but it knew what it was about and it executed it well; there’s a real virtue to that. Also I adore slightly cheesy but self-serious noir and the early 20th century really is the ideal setting for classical urban fantasy.

The story follows Helen, a private investigator and warlock in 1930s Chicago. Ten years prior to the story, she sold her soul to a demon to resurrect her younger brother from a car crash that would have otherwise killed her entire family – for her trouble, she was cast out from the magical brotherhood training her as a mystic and forced to make a living as a cut-rate diviner and gumshoe in Chicago. The plot kicks off three days before the deal comes due and her soul’s forfeit, and she takes one last consulting job to add a bit more to the nest egg she’ll be leaving for her girlfriend Edith when she’s torn from the mortal coil. And then, of course, she finds out that a) her employer is a demon, b) the case she’s consulting on is someone ritually murdering other poor souls who’ve made deals, days before they come due, and c) if she solves it she’ll get her soul back, along with enough money to make to San Francisco with Edith and start a new life free and clear.

So this is not a book that sets out to surprise the reader. The storytelling is efficient and the foreshadowing is reasonably honest – you can guess just about every twist well ahead of time with even the slightest bit of effort. I’d say the book isn’t trying to break any new ground, but actually it’s the only example I can think off hand of this sort of genre emulation period piece that both has a queer protagonist and doesn’t either elide or edit out the homophobia of the their environment, so there is that. Anyway, ‘genre emulation’ is the right term I think – snappy, tightly written noir plot that doesn’t outlast its welcome (this was absolutely a novella-sized story).

I really don’t know the author or their work well enough to know how intentional it is, but the ending very much felt like a comment on the whole Bury Your Gays/Tragic Lesbian trope. Essentially, Edith gets herself heroically sacrificed saving Helen’s life in the climactic showdown. Then, once the dust has settled and Marlow (her demonic client) has given Helen her soul back she…immediately sells it again to bring her back. Better ten years of Californian bliss with her true love then an eternity in heaven (and besides, that brother she’d saved the first time had just killed an angel, so someone’s going to need to keep him company in hell). The book’s title is in no way subtle or metaphorical, it is a line of the protagonist’s internal monologue.

The story’s universe is a folk-Christian one, and it is absolutely imperative that when reading it you don’t poke at the underlying metaphysics at all. Angels and demons are real and magicians are the distant descendants of Nephilim and some of the Grigori still haunt the earth, and we have it on good authority that God doesn’t actually care about being gay and everyone seems very frightened of the idea of summoning the Archangel Michael to earth, but start asking any followup questions about angels and world events during the Roosevelt Administration and you’re ruin the story for yourself. Just don’t worry about it.

As a final note, I really did love Marlowe – or properly, she’s one of my favorite types of demons in these sorts of stories. Epitome of high class beauty, lives in a palatial penthouse waited upon handed and foot by layers of servants, eats the best food and wears the best clothes and has the best lovers, even a generous employer and creditor as long as you do what she wants and give her what she’s owed. The sort of demon who seems like falling out of heaven was worth it, and one you can imagine actually convincing someone to sell their soul. She’s fun!

[jackoshadows]

There's this nice little parallel between Arya and Jon doing the right thing under incredibly dangerous and complicated scenarios and then being saved by the direwolves.

When Jon Snow is asked to kill the old man at the Queenscrown, he knows that his life would be forfeit if he refuses. And yet, he can't bring himself to do it.

“Why do you hesitate?” Styr said. “Kill him, and be done.” He is an old man, Jon told himself. Fifty, maybe even sixty. He lived a longer life than most. The Thenns will kill him anyway, nothing I can say or do will save him. Longclaw seemed heavier than lead in his hand, too heavy to lift. The man kept staring at him, with eyes as big and black as wells. I will fall into those eyes and drown. The Magnar was looking at him too, and he could almost taste the mistrust. The man is dead. What matter if it is my hand that slays him? One cut would do it, quick and clean. Longclaw was forged of Valyrian steel. Like Ice. Jon remembered another killing; the deserter on his knees, his head rolling, the brightness of blood on snow . . . his father’s sword, his father’s words, his father’s face . . . “Do it, Jon Snow,” Ygritte urged. “You must. T’ prove you are no crow, but one o’ the free folk.” He turned his back on the man. “No.” - Jon, AGoT

And then we have little 9 year old, skinny little Arya confronting Joffrey's sadistic torture of Mycah. Joffrey is taller and bigger than even Jon and Robb and he's armed with a sword. Arya is armed with a stick. Joffrey has been trained in the sword and Arya has not. The odds are against her. And yet she steps up to defend Mycah because it's the right thing to do.

“And you’re only a butcher’s boy, and no knight.” Joffrey lifted Lion’s Tooth and laid its point on Mycah’s cheek below the eye, as the butcher’s boy stood trembling. “That was my lady’s sister you were hitting, do you know that?” A bright bud of blood blossomed where his sword pressed into Mycah’s flesh, and a slow red line trickled down the boy’s cheek. “Stop it!” Arya screamed. She grabbed up her fallen stick. “I won’t hurt him … much,” Prince Joffrey told Arya, never taking his eyes off the butcher’s boy. Arya went for him. - Sansa, AGoT

And when both Arya and Jon are under attack because of doing the right thing, the direwolves - gifts from the Old Gods - step in to help save them.

The Magnar said something in the Old Tongue. He might have been telling the Thenns to kill Jon where he stood, but he would never know the truth of that. Lightning crashed down from the sky, a searing blue-white bolt that touched the top of the tower in the lake. They could smell the fury of it, and when the thunder came it seemed to shake the night. And death leapt down amongst them. The lightning flash left Jon night-blind, but he glimpsed the hurtling shadow half a heartbeat before he heard the shriek. - Jon, ASoS

Joffrey slashed at Arya with his sword, screaming obscenities, terrible words, filthy words. Arya darted back, frightened now, but Joffrey followed, hounding her toward the woods, backing her up against a tree. Then a grey blur flashed past her, and suddenly Nymeria was there, leaping, jaws closing around Joffrey’s sword arm. The steel fell from his fingers as the wolf knocked him off his feet, and they rolled in the grass, the wolf snarling and ripping at him, the prince shrieking in pain. - Sansa, AGot

What also stands out is 9 year old Arya's presence of mind. She steps in to call Nymeria off else the damage done to Joffrey would be far worse. Just look at what Summer does to the Thenns.

The lightning flash left Jon night-blind, but he glimpsed the hurtling shadow half a heartbeat before he heard the shriek. The first Thenn died as the old man had, blood gushing from his torn throat. Then the light was gone and the shape was spinning away, snarling, and another man went down in the dark. There were curses, shouts, howls of pain. Jon saw Big Boil stumble backward and knock down three men behind him. Ghost, he thought for one mad instant. Ghost leapt the Wall. Then the lightning turned the night to day, and he saw the wolf standing on Del’s chest, blood running black from his jaws. Grey. He’s grey. - Jon, ASoS

“Get it off,” he screamed. “Get it off!” Arya’s voice cracked like a whip. “Nymeria!” The direwolf let go of Joffrey and moved to Arya’s side. The prince lay in the grass, whimpering, cradling his mangled arm. His shirt was soaked in blood. Arya said, “She didn’t hurt you … much.” - Sansa, AGoT

As Arya points out rather accurately, Nymeria did not hurt Joffrey...much, considering what a direwolf is capable of. Nymeria steps in to save Arya and that's it. Arya could have done more damage to Joffrey if she wanted to - but she recognizes and understands the situation and calls Nymeria off.

Anyways I thought this was a cool, thematic parallel of not only Arya and Jon having the instinct to do the right thing, no matter the circumstances, but also of the direwolves - in this case Nymeria and Summer - helping them overcome the danger of those circumstances.

[crossdressingdeath]

Narrator: *Accept, and you must kill Gortash. Refuse, and [Yenna]'s life may be forfeit. As might your own - Orin's assassins will hunt you like prey for slaughter.* Kyvir: My alliance with Gortash is restored. Give me your stone, and I'll let you live. Orin: Is your brain so pulped? You suck up the tyrant's vapours like a babe sucks milk. Your useless promise will drip wet and red from your ruptured jaw before I let you disobey Bhaal. My assassins will make sure of it. Once you've remembered your place, seek out the Steel Watch's cradle in the Lower City. Skewer their skull meat, make them rust and blood. Then the lordling will be yours to butcher.

There's something so fascinating to me in Orin saying "once you've remembered your place" re Durge betraying Gortash. The way Durge and Gortash clearly weren't supposed to be as close as they were is so interesting to me, these two villains who loved each other so much that it angered their gods... Also, I find myself wondering if Orin thinks Durge is disobeying Bhaal by restoring and maintaining their alliance with Gortash... or by letting her live. After all, Bhaalspawn are supposed to fight to the death until only one remains. If Durge is offering to spare Orin if she gives them the stone without a fight that could actually be disobedience. But Orin would never allow that even if Bhaal did, not even to save her own life. The relationship between Durge and Orin is so much, I wish the game got into it more.