#i don't know what to tell you because death note was my first anime

[moonlight-prose]

RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME

➛ 06. TIME CAN NEVER MEND

a/n: so before you dive into this i'm gonna warn you that it's not happy. we have reached the level of angst needed to start this story on it's final arc. the one that changes basically everything. i've put a lot of angst into this, because that's what it called for and well...if you've been here for awhile you know i love my angst. i'm sorry beforehand and can promise a happy ending. but these two have to suffer first.

summary: logan howlett is happy. he's content. by all definitions...he's found the reason for why he's still alive and it all leads down to you. yet time is a fickle and cruel being and she's decided his time for peace must come to an end.

word count: 7k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, angst, a heaping of angst so bitter you will yell at me, oral (f receiving), face riding, overstimulation, wade wilson, mutant powers, violence, tw: blood, tw: gore, trauma resurfacing, ptsd, insanity, tw: torture, cliffhanger, BE WARNED PLEASE DON'T SKIP OVER THESE.

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Silence filled his mind, darkness an endless expanse behind his shut eyes. He couldn't remember the last time the world fell quiet. Piercing through him with a serenity he fought his entire life to acquire. Nightmares were an expected routine that came to him constantly with a bitter echo of things he couldn't change; people he never saved.

He couldn't recall sleeping without them. Not since he was a sickly child in his father's house—fighting fevers that were caused by a mutation he didn't know existed.

Eventually the world would rip a part his bubble of safety—expose him to horrors he never thought imaginable. He'd struggle against it. Bite, snarl, fight his way through the pain like an animal who'd been caged for far too long. There would be no light at the end of his tunnel. No peace for the man plagued by promises he longed to break—a vow he didn't intend to make.

Only to be found by the one person he thought was lost to his world.

A love that lingered in the shadows of his heart. Bringing back the flame of a torch that blew out the night he lost everything.

He awoke to the warmth of your body tangled with his. His heart didn't race with the anticipation of a battle that didn't exist. His claws were safely stored away in the depths of his arms, and for the first time...his soul didn't scream in agony for help that would never arrive. You shifted with a puff of air, a grumble building in your throat at the morning chill. He watched in rapture—his fingers trailing down your spine.

The clock read eight in the morning. Plenty of time for you to sleep in given it was your last day off. So Logan remained still in order to not disturb your peace. He sucked in slow breaths as you pressed your cheek to his chest—arm wrapped around his waist and legs tangled with his. Each small shift of your face, the furrow of your brows and quickening of your heart, let him know you were trapped in a dream.

Good or bad he couldn't tell.

What did you dream about? What ran through your mind when sleep washed over your body?

He made a mental note to ask when your eyes finally cracked open. The spell of sleep lost, retreating to the depths of your mind till later. But for now he admired the shape of your face, the lilt in your eyes and curve of your lips. You were a painting come to life. An art piece stolen right off the walls of The Met.

How he managed to wind up here, waking up beside you, continued to baffle him the longer he thought about it.

Surely he committed too many atrocities to deserve this. Too many lives lost by his claws, too much pain wrought by his own actions. He shouldn't be allowed to lay here, holding you close with a reverence that he thought was lost to the tragedies of his past. He once counted the days until his death. Marked them off with a tally that seemed to only grow the longer he went.

Now he thanked whatever higher being existed for giving him this.

For gifting him you.

Another soft grunt left your parted lips, nose scrunching in distaste as you were roused from your sleep. He smiled at the sight of your eyes fluttering open, confusion flickering across your features for mere seconds before it all came rushing back. The time spent with Logan ravishing your body in this very bed, in the shower you shared. The sweetening ache between your thighs that practically called his name.

You sighed, glancing up at him with drowsy glazed eyes and a crooked smile. "Morning," you rasped, voice thick with sleep.

His heart twisted in his chest. A feeling he could only describe as love began to filter through his veins like an IV. Filling him with the fear that usually came with that four letter word—the terror of possibly losing this. He swallowed it down painfully, his hand moving to press at the base of your spine to pull you closer.

"Sleep well?" he rumbled, dipping down to catch your lips in a kiss.

The shower last night left your skin warm to the touch. Logan found he couldn't get enough of it. He curled himself around you, drawing your leg up to hook around his waist as a way to keep your skin against his. You hummed in appreciation, pushing your face up to meet his movements in kind.

Sunlight spilled into the bedroom with a familiar warmth. The window was shut and locked after yesterday's phone call. Yet the muffled echo of the world managed to slip through the cracks in the wood, echoing in your small bubble of serenity he longed to stay in. This felt like a hazy dream. One that clung to the edges of his mind, dripping small slivers of joy into his heart.

Logan longed to remain here. Buried in the bed with you wrapped tightly around him.

Eventually you parted with a soft gasp, your hips shifting subtly to relieve the ache that began to bloom and unfurl in your body. Even though you had more than your fill of him yesterday, you remained insatiable.

He couldn't say he was any better—his cock already twitching in interest. If he had his way neither of you would find the need to leave this bed; far more interested in how many more orgasms he could wring from your still spent body.

"I like this," you murmured against his cheek, fingers delving into his messy hair. "Waking up with you."

"Me too honey." He grinned when you kissed his chin, thumb running along the edge of his jaw.

A soft breath washed along his skin, sending chills down his spine. "How did you sleep?"

"No nightmares."

He felt you smile. "Are you lying to me Howlett?"

Fuck if you weren't the last thing he wanted to see at night and the first thing he was welcomed to in the morning. Something sharp pricked his chest, bleeding him of the doubt that might still remain. Lingering beneath the surface of too many broken promises and shattered versions of I love you.

This happened before. A love so deep he felt it solidify into his very mutant DNA. Back then he thought it would one day come to an end; finalize when he fucked up too many times for you to forgive.

Now he knew there was no end to this road that wound up with him alone. No version of the story where he sat at a bar somewhere in the back roads of nowhere, lamenting about a woman he once wanted to spend forever with. Whether he stayed young and you grew too old; there wouldn’t be a final page without him in your life.

What transpired here would knot the strands of fate together. So if one was sliced for the final vow of death. They both went together.

"I'm not lying," he confessed. "I didn't really dream of anythin' this time around."

You hummed, eyes opening to see the contented shine in his hazel eyes. "Don't tell me. It was because of me."

"I think it might be bub." His teeth nipped at your bottom lip, hand curving to cup your ass. "Guess you're my cure. Been lookin' for awhile."

"My bad Mr. Howlett," you breathed through a soft laugh that clenched around his chest. "I didn't mean to take so long, but you were kind of in a different universe."

"Technicalities."

"Yeah right! Technicalities my ass."

He dragged you across his lap with a muffled groan he pressed to your chest. "Could’ve found me all on your own honey. You just weren't looking properly."

The high gasp that filled the air left him with a gratification worse than his satiated hunger. He longed to devour you with a need that felt primal. As if the animalistic side of his body craved the taste of you spread along his tongue. You were the answer to every fuckin' prayer he sent out. The embodiment of what his heart had been missing.

"You're right." Your words were shaky, eyes growing dark with lust when you felt his cock press against your slick folds. "I'll do better next time."

He growled, low and desperate; his hands now clamping down on your hips until pain flickered beneath the surface of your already tender skin. "There'll be no fuckin' next time."

"No?" The grin on your lips made him leak against your thigh. "I'm sure there's more than one James Howlett in the infinite number of universes. And who knows, you might not be enough to satisfy my insatiable needs."

Rolling to his back, he took you with him, even as you yelped in an attempt to pull away. You were trapped against his body with no chance of escape, yet running from him was never a choice. This was your safe place. Against his body that offered warmth and solace—a promise of more wrapped in a gentle touch and heated kiss.

He tugged you up his body, smacking your ass as you climbed to sit on his chest with a breathless smile. The sight alone made Logan's heart stutter. His eyes wide with awe—a semblance of adoration that existed solely for you.

"Insatiable huh," he mumbled against your thigh. "Alright honey. C'mere then."

"For what?"

His thumbs indented the skin of your hip, a smile curving over his lips. "I haven't had my breakfast yet."

The realization dawned on you slowly. Your eyes widened, scent growing heavy in the air, and Logan longed to stay here for the rest of his life. Beneath the weight of your body on his—the comfort of your hands cupping his face. Your slick pooled on his chest; a sign that you were in fact interested.

"A-Are you sure?" you breathed.

His teeth sunk into your wrist gently, causing you to jolt. "Fair's fair baby."

Your own words caused heat to spill beneath your skin; you shifted—eyes wanton for what was about to come. "Touché."

Shifting up higher with a hesitancy that turned his mind feral, you situated yourself close to his mouth—barely hovering over his face. With a growl, he looped his arms around your thighs and yanked you down. His mouth sealing over your dripping cunt with a moan of satisfaction. The cry that fell from your lips made his cock twitch against his stomach; the heady tang of you exactly what he longed for.

He was messy with it. Devouring you with abandon, tongue slipping through your folds with little grunts that sent sparks down your spine. When he sucked your clit into his mouth you were done for.

"Oh fuck Logan-" The breath caught in your throat, head tipping back with each swipe of his tongue along the pulsating nerve.

Without realizing it, your hips began to drag along his mouth, chasing the quick building release that threatened to drag you under. He growled—fingers a bruising grip on your skin—with each swivel of your hips. High pitched moans echoed in the room loud enough to resonate through the whole of your apartment.

"Please-" Logan watched—eyes drooped and a red flush across his cheeks—as your body curved towards him, your hand gripping the top of your headboard. "'M gonna. Fuck, fuck, fuck-"

His tongue plunged into you, thumb snaking around to rub harshly against your clit. The long drawn out moan he mumbled into your cunt is what finally broke you. Ripping the release from the base of your spine as you cried out—your hips nearly suffocating him with how you pressed down on his tongue.

Aching for whatever he had left to give you.

Logan drank you down with stunted moan, his cock leaking into the trail of hair on his stomach. But he couldn't fucking care about that. Not when you were gifting him with a nectar that would put the gods ichor to shame.

"Oh...baby," you murmured, eyes staring at the way his cock jumped each time his tongue slid against you.

Before he could turn you away—explain that he was okay and push it off as a natural reaction to you—your hand was wrapping around him. The wet slide of his precum now enough to fuck into your fist with ease. He'd allow you to touch him for a few minutes before deterring you the kitchen. Give you a fill of what need still remained.

He was perfectly okay with finishing himself off.

What he didn't expect was your thumb to settle between his balls, rubbing at a spot that made him see white. A broken feral sound echoed against your inner thigh—his teeth clamping into the skin—as he came across your hand. Spilling down onto his stomach and hitting his chest with a withered shout.

You rolled off him, panting and covered in a sheen of sweat. Logan could barely feel his fucking legs.

"The fuck was that?" he rasped, eyes cracking open to blearily see your prideful smile—teeth digging into your bottom lip while you eyed the mess on his torso.

"How'd it feel?"

"Like my fuckin' body isn't workin'."

You giggled, soft and sweet. A stark contrast to the way you made him cum fast enough to put a hole in his heart. He'd never gotten off so quickly. Yet there you sat, leaning against your pillows, and staring at him as if he'd hung all the stars in your night sky.

He very well would have if you asked.

"I can cook this morning," you offered, snuggling back against his side with a contented sigh.

"Just give me a minute honey and I'll get us food."

"You don't have to cook."

He silenced you with a kiss, your body melting into the mattress at the taste of you on his tongue. "Rosemary's. They still sell breakfast?" When you nodded he planted a kiss on your forehead. "Alright. Soon as the feeling in my legs returns I'll get us some food."

"Okay," you laughed with a kiss to his shoulder. "I like the sound of that."

The television blared loud enough to bounce off the neighbors walls. A loud and rather obnoxious theme song for a reality show. A steady stream of muttered cuss words overlapped the music as another piece of wood clattered to the floor. The screws with it scattered on the shitty coffee table found in the back alley of the building.

"Ugh. Don't hand over the rose!" Wade shouted, throwing a handful of popcorn at the screen. "Clearly they don't belong together. For fucks sake. I swear the bachelorette always settles."

Althea sighed, fingers sliding along the wood in search of a single screw that might be near. "I thought you said you wanted to help me with this."

"I am!" he mumbled through a mouthful of popcorn. "Moral support. You're doing great, just a little more to the left. Almooooost got it-"

She grumbled snatching up the silver piece, locating the wood by her feet. "Next time I'm evicting your ass so you can find someone else to annoy."

"Hurtful. Who else would provide you quality entertainment better than moi?"

"A rock."

"Wrong." He shoveled another handful in his mouth. "I've worked with the man. Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson is not as funny as he might appear. And starring in Fast Five doesn't count." His eyes flicker to the side, smile forming around his swollen cheeks. "To be honest I couldn't tell who was who between three bald men. Clearly that franchise has a type."

"Clearly I need a better system."

"Well of course you do. The shelf is upside down. No, the other way. No. The other way-"

A blinding flash of blue light burned through the living room, searing a hole in the hardwood floor. Wade clambered to his feet, gripping the ceramic bowl with white knuckles. His heart hammered in his chest, mouth dry as he scanned the room for some form of defense.

The closest weapon remained his katanas, propped against the door frame leading to his bedroom. He glanced at them—calculating whether to leap now or wait.

A whip ignited in blue sparks flew from the gaping hole in the air, striking his body and forcing him into the air. He hit the wall with a grunt; the bowl now severed in two on the floor.

"What the fuck!" he groaned, stumbling to his feet. "Al! You okay?"

"Who did you piss off this time?" Althea called, gripping her cane as he staggered towards her, leading her to the bedroom.

"Some fucking Asgardian apparently." A quick glance back revealed someone stepping through—their body encased in ripples of sapphire. "God where's Thor when you need him?"

The bedroom door slammed shut, Althea locking herself in as Wade yanked the katanas from their sheaths. He half expected to see the face of a pissed god coming to enact revenge. He felt his body tense as he prepared for a fight. Only for a hood of blue and gold to be pulled back; your face staring directly at him with milky eyes of white.

"You're not Asgardian."

A sneer crossed other you's face as the whip snapped against the floor, rippling in the space around him. He felt it tug along his body, aging his face with spots that wouldn't show up for decades to come. They healed as you pulled the weapong back; the blue wrapping its way up your arm.

"Where is he?" Your voice bled with a bitterness that punched his stomach. An anger he once felt before.

Whoever stood before him now was not the sweet angel he knew. The scarred skin along your body explained enough of what he needed to know. This was a sign of who you once belonged to. Who the humans hunted. The embodiment of time had become their prey, their plaything. You were the lamb given up for slaughter; the lover scorned and tossed to the side by a man who ran to a different universe.

"Mind giving me a name?" Wade knew who you were asking for. But he also knew Logan lay across the street wrapped in the arms of a you who couldn't protect him.

Your eyes narrowed, the flicker of blue flashing in what used to be the iris of your pupil. "I believe you know him as Wolverine. However...I knew him as Logan."

"Right." He gripped the handle of his swords with cold palms—his eyes flicking to the side where his window was pulled wide open. "Have you tried the yellow pages?"

A scream tore from your throat as you charged—whip sliding across the floor to wrap around Wade's legs. He rolled to the side, katana cracking through the floor to steady his movements. He cursed under his breath at the sight of the burn marks that now spread all the way up to his ceiling—the flicker of your whip lifting in air again.

"Listen you Wonder Woman wannabe. I'm sure we can talk this out rather than fucking me in the ass with the deposit of my apartment!"

Your lips curled into a grin—teeth flashing white. Wade could practically feel them dig into his jugular; all too prepared to rip it from his neck if given the chance. This wasn't a battle to see who could make it out alive. This was a warriors death.

This was you being merciful.

"We had a Deadpool like you on my Earth." He tried to dodge the slice of your whip, but felt it clamp down on his arms, yanking them forward as your hand cupped his chin—nails plunging into his cheeks until blood sprouted to the surface. "Annoying. Less than average IQ. I had such fun sending him to the Void."

The dull throb of pain bit at his face the harder you clutched him. Eyes still a flash of sapphire on an otherwise empty pale eyeball. In the picture Logan showed him, this wasn't how you looked.

The scar that ran from your forehead to chin seemed new—barely healed over. You were nothing like how Logan described you. No light in your smile, no hint of hope or joy.

Whatever happened left you buried so deep in grief and pain there was no chance of digging you out.

"On behalf of my people...fair. We aren't intelligent collectively as a group. Individually we're probably...not better. But as Deadpool Prime-"

"Fuck you're even more annoying than your variants," you growled.

The whip looped around his body, growing with heat as blue flickered in his vision—pulling tight each time you wrapped it around your wrist. His wince of pain brought the malevolent smile back to your lips. Your milky white eyes flashing as you watched him intently. Waiting for a sliver of anguish to cross his scarred face.

Instead his body twitched, a groan ripping from his throat. "Is this the lasso of truth?"

You sneered. "It's a slice of time."

"Because yes, I did steal Captain American themed condoms from the gift shop at the Smithsonian. I thought they would make me fuck like Steve Rogers. But instead they just gave me a rash-" His words devolved into a piercing scream—the once bright hue of his eyes now fading the more his body aged.

The katanas clattered to the floor as you drew him closer, wrapping the whip around his arms tight enough to slice off his blood flow. He struggled—face red and teeth bared—to rip himself free. To stop the aging of his body before it was too late.

He'd endured pain before. The travesty of each wound his body would heal over still burned bright in his mind. But this felt as if he was being crushed under the weight of the universe. The strangled scream you pulled from his chest left him sagging against the hold your whip had on his limbs. Eyes bleary with tears as you stepped back and pulled.

Limbs tore from his body, blood pooling on the floor, as his arms were flung across the room. Blue fizzled in his vision, body struggling to stand upright. And you turned with a flourish—the flutter of energy pouring out into the room around you.

"I'm not going to ask again Wade Wilson."

He weakly laughed. "Look Doc Brown I can't help you with your revenge plan."

The tilt of your head shouldn't have looked so innocent. But all he could see—all that ran through his mind—was a version of you that remained loving. Hopeful. The variant who gave Logan a reason to live. Wade wasn't about to let that slip through either of their fingers; you were too vital to give up.

Even if it meant he might never heal from the one wound that threatened to shove him directly into Death's hands.

Time.

It remained his greatest enemy. Yet there he stood, facing it with a smile.

"Pity." You snapped the whip on the floor, advancing on his broken form with a grin. "Send my regards to your fallen variants."

"If I find a way to come back from this. Expect me to fuck your ass up." He sighed, shutting his eyes. "That sounded wrong. Do I get a do-over on last words?"

He stiffened, waiting for the blow that would be delivered without mercy. But you stopped. Froze in place as you looked out the window—body stiff and breath caught in your chest at the sight. Wade's heart dropped when he turned, staring directly at the you he knew. The lovely angel who stood near the window wearing Logan's flannel, a mug of steaming coffee in your hand and a smile on her face.

"Fuck," he spit, moving to step in and block your view.

No words were spoken, but Wade could feel the anger fall from your body in waves. A rage that made him sick to his stomach. Not only did you arrive in search of your lost lover. But a mirror image of a healthier—a happier—version of yourself stood in an apartment across the street.

"Wait. She didn't do anything wrong. She doesn't know anything-"

Your hand flew up, a flash of azure blinded him—filling the room—and Wade felt time stop. He could hear the silence, the step of your feet, yet couldn't move his body as you lifted off the floor. Floating towards the window, you felt the particles of time slip through your fingers. Forming a bubble around your form as you broke the wall of the apartment with a slice of your whip.

The agony wasn't unknown to you as time froze; the people of New York stuck in their spots while you remained in the realm you knew well. Yet this pain—this never ending grief—formed like a pit in your stomach, growing the longer you stared at the person who stole your life. The false version that wore your face, loved the man you once claimed as your own.

You were plunged back into the frozen depths of that night. When your family was torn from your life and Logan left you in shambles.

The window shattered, glass stuck in place until you pushed past it, your feet setting down on the floor of an apartment that smelled eerily like cigar smoke. Logan's flannel hung off your variant's body with such ease. Memories of mornings spent like this, indulging in coffee he made as he went off to teach, left a bitter taste on the back of your tongue.

How dare he discard you to the side.

How dare he love you in another universe when you still lived.

How dare he replace you with a new version, not yet broken by his mistakes.

The tears flowed down your cheeks, hot and unforgiving. Yet you could do nothing but watch as the smile on your variant's face burned bright in the room. He made this version of you happy. Yet couldn't be bothered to remember the mutant you. The one who longed for his touch, for his love.

For his forgiveness.

"He loves you," you murmured, gently touching your variant's cheek. "He loved me once."

Time flickered, a mere second being allowed to pass. But that remained enough. Your variant's eyes flicked up, shock forming in the iris at the sight of a battered and destroyed mirror image stand before you. If the iris of your eyes could be shown, the sorrow would bring the both of you to your knees. The anger that dripped into your heart with a vengeance.

Death didn't seem a kind enough gesture for the version of you that got to live her happily ever after.

You wanted Logan to keep her. To try and save her from the depths of your soon to be shared darkness.

The mark on your neck burned as you stared at the spotless skin. Free from the horrors. Free from a past you'd never endure.

You were perfect.

It made bile crawl up the back of your throat. The fear in your variant's eyes filled your stomach with a satisfaction that you clung to. The first glimpse of dopamine after years of fighting the darkness in your own mind.

Your nails scratched along the skin of your variant's cheeks. Digging into the flesh with a smile.

"Don't worry," you murmured, allowing the shackles you held on time to fall away. The gasp ripped from your variant's mouth as you gripped her. It swirled with joy in your heart. "We'll both make him regret his choice."

The apartment greeted him with a sickening echo of silence. He dropped your key into the bowl by your door, the bag of food still clutched tightly in his hand, as he allowed his claws to slide free on the other. His breath stuck to his chest, the hair on the back of his neck rose with each step he took. Something was wrong. Yet for the life of him...he couldn't find an explanation.

Your scent was stale. An hour old.

Where he expected to find the sweet echo of your heartbeat somewhere in the apartment; he was met with the chilling realization that you weren't here.

"Honey," he called, his voice lower than intended. "You here baby?"

Logan's heart ached when he was met with a response of nothing. Merely air that didn't carry the sound of your voice, nor the scent he'd grown accustomed to. What was he supposed to do when the emptiness was all the world offered? When the echo of his nightmares suddenly bled into reality.

He set the food on your kitchen table, yanking his phone out of his jacket pocket he slammed his finger on your number. The only one programmed into the damn thing. The incessant ring suddenly never sounded so threatening. So malevolent as he waited with baited breath for your voice to filter through the other line. Loud and clear without a single thing to fear.

When the shrill buzz of your own phone came from the bedroom, Logan felt the familiar cold drip of fear begin to slip down his spine. He struggled to maintain his breathing as he walked towards the room. His claws out—ready to attack at whatever came near him.

The empty bedroom—sheets in a laundry basket and comforter a tangle on the bed from this morning—felt like an icy pick in his chest. You weren't here. And Logan knew there had to be a logical explanation as to why this was.

You left for a reason.

You wouldn't simply offer up silence on a silver platter and expect him to take it with a smile.

You weren't that type of person.

Yet no matter how long he wracked his brain, he couldn't come up with a valid reason as to where you might be. Expecting to see you through the window at Wade's place, Logan rushed to the frame. Only to feel the crunch of glass beneath his feet—the panes shattered and crushed on the floor. Your favorite coffee mug severed in pieces beside it.

"No," he breathed, eyes wide and hand plagued with a tremor of fear as he knelt to grip the porcelain shards.

The terror he fought against for so long slammed into his body with a roar. It forced him to look. To see the truth that he could no longer deny. You didn't leave. You weren't gone of your own volition.

You...weren't safe.

"Fuck," he spit, shutting his eyes as the sting of tears began to prick behind his eyelids. "No. No. No."

"How touching."

The sound of your voice made him whip around, eyes wide and heart racing as he prepared himself to apologize for whatever made you leave. But the face that came into his sight wasn't the you of this universe. Pain sliced his gut as the version of you he couldn't save—the woman he would once die for—smiled at him.

"Fortuna," he said in a breath, eyes trailing down your figure encased in ripples of blue. Your eyes were white—devoid of any emotion. Yet he could feel your bitterness; the hatred that still existed from that night.

Your lips formed a pout, boots echoing against the hardwood floor like bullets firing from a gun. "What? No more honey?"

He flinched when your hand came up to cup his cheek. "What are you-"

"Doing here?" You smiled, blue flashing in the iris of your eyes. Logan felt his body sway with grief—the emotions he swallowed for years now hitting him with a force he never thought possible. "Why...I'm here for you baby."

"Fortuna-"

"Don't call me that." You gripped his chin, dragging him down to face you. "That name never used to leave your lips before. Why now?"

"Where is she?" he bit out, claws begging to take a slice out of your body.

Your voice was filled with mirth. Logan had never heard you this way.

So...deranged. Unhinged.

Whatever happened after you left had pushed you past the edge of what sanity still remained. The brink you toed even when you were together. He could see it in the scars that littered your arms, the long mark along your face. You weren't the woman he once loved. You weren't even the same fucking person.

His eyes trailed further, down to the collar of your suit, until he latched onto the scar that nearly had him staggering away to vomit. Burned onto your skin was a mark to represent who you'd been at one point. Who you would forever remain. The X, a stitched over wound that didn't have the proper time to heal.

The humans broke you. They destroyed the woman he once knew.

Logan felt anger burn in his heart at the realization.

"You mean my replacement?" you spit, shoving him away. "And here I thought you were still nursing your wounds in some fucking bar Logan." The whip twined around your waist sparked to life. "Forgive me for believing you cared."

"You're insane." He stumbled back at the first lick of your power stretching to touch him. "Charles warned you about what your powers would evolve into. He begged you not to go down this path."

Laughter pierced his eardrums—the fury biting at his heart as you cupped his cheeks and shoved your face into his. "Do you know who else begged Logan? Jean. Storm, Scott, Rogue, Bobby-"

He ripped himself away. "Shut the fuck up!"

"They screamed for you Logan!" Time began to slow, slip through his body and tear at the flesh that never aged. "They begged me to help them, to stop their attackers. And what could I do? When I was stuck in the future! But you. You could have saved them. You fucking worthless bastard!"

Blue filled his vision, his body sagging against your hold, as you ripped at his mutant gene with a ferocity that left him beyond saving. This was your last play. The final card you never intended to show him.

"Please-" he gasped, refusing to fight back.

How could he? When his heart still called your name, no matter the universe.

You were his. The person who held every piece of his heart to kill on a whim if you so wished it. The woman who he'd die beside.

He just never thought it would be your mutant variant. He never expected you would be the one to deliver that final blow.

Air filled his lungs when you pulled away. His body healing instantly—the spots of age now fading along his paled skin. Whatever you had planned, it wasn't going to start with his death. Logan knew you better than you knew yourself; a fact you seemed to have forgotten.

You may have been kind—loving once. But final grand shows of vengeance were your ploy. No matter the situation...you wouldn't give away the ending even if he begged.

He fell to his knees, gasping for breath. "Where is she? I-I'll...do anything-"

"You love her," you murmured, regarding him with an expression of pity.

"Yes."

"What a shame."

His head rose, eyes wide as time began to slow. "Fortuna-"

"I'll give her your regards Logan." Your lips pressed to his cheek, breath a familiar warm caress against his skin. He felt his heart shatter.

"Fortuna!"

Staggering to his feet—his heart trapped in his throat—he felt time stop. And any hope he held in his heart...ceased to exist.

The crack of wood jolted you from the darkness you were trapped in. Fear trailed up your spine, wrapping around your heart tight enough to blister in searing pain. Your wrists and ankles were bound, body attached to a chair, and you blinked through the haze to see an empty abandoned room. The cold air stung the bare skin of your thighs as you sat there encased in only Logan's flannel—your skin raw from the rope.

Broken furniture was scattered through the room. A couch stripped of its fabric, walls with torn wallpaper, and you leaning against the wall your head cocked with intrigue.

"W-Who are you?" you stumbled over your words, shivering from the cold.

The echo of boots made the hair rise on the back of your neck, your eyes going wide at the sight of blue spilling off this person's frame. There was no need for her to answer. No response to give, because you knew who stood before you. She wore your face. Spoke in your voice and emanated a power you'd only seen once before.

"Logan once called me honey once," she murmured, milky eyes flashing blue. "He calls you that doesn't he?"

You nodded, shuddering as she dropped to squat in front of you, hands braced on the arms of the air. She didn't regard you with anger like before. Though it still lingered beneath the surface, she watched you as if you were someone to learn from. Someone to figure out.

"Why am I here?" you whispered, voice hoarse.

"Pathetic he would choose to love your kind. After what they did.” Fear struck your chest at the malice in her words, the wrath that now faced you head on. “You can call me Fortuna," she murmured, finger stroking down the side of your face. The place where no scar rested—no mark of torture that echoed from a past she couldn't escape.

"Please." The sting of hot tears burned your eyes. "I don't know what I did-"

A bark of laughter ripped from her throat. "Oh sweetie. You didn't do anything." She stood, loosening the whip from her body. "You're merely collateral damage. No need to take it so personal."

"Collateral-" You gasped as the whip flicked forward, wrapping around your waist. "Wait! Y-You're the woman Logan loved. He told me about you."

The smile that curved her lips forced nausea to the surface of your stomach. "Yes I suppose he would. So guilt ridden by what he couldn't do."

"It's not his fault."

Another laugh had tears slipping down your cheeks. "Did he tell you that?"

"He didn't have to. The humans were the ones to kill your family. Not him."

The whip tightened around your body, pain slicing at your skin. "Oh I'm very well aware of what the humans are capable of."

Scars littered her skin, some larger than others, and suddenly you understood what happened. What she meant by it all. Logan couldn't save her. He wasn't able to keep her from the human's harm. Because he decided to wallow in his own grief than share in hers.

Fortuna had become Logan's worst nightmare. His walking shame that continued to haunt him even in this universe. No wonder he felt so afraid of what might happen the longer he remained with you.

"Do you know this place?" She glanced at the room—the staircase that was tucked away in the corner that led to a second story. "An old farmhouse near the mansion. Abandoned here, but not where I'm from."

"It's..."

"Ours."

Your heart dropped, tears spilling over faster than you could stop them. "Oh..."

"He didn't mention that part did he human?" She stepped closer, leaning over your cowering form with a smile that you felt tear at your heart. "We were going to live here together. You see...I have the one thing you will never be able to give him." Her hand cupped your cheek, wiping at the tears with rough strokes. "I will never die."

You shook your head. "He doesn't-"

"Care?" She clicked her tongue, disappointment flooding her features. "He'll say that now human. But what happens when you're sixty? Seventy? What happens when you outlive the Wolverine? What will he do then?"

"The Logan I know wouldn't leave me because of time."

"I am time," she snapped, gripping your chin. "I have lived as long as he has. I will continue to live even longer. Time means nothing when you are the physical embodiment of it."

"No-"

Wrapping the whip around her clenched fist, she pulled until the power began to split through your nerves. A sob broke past your cracked lips, pain burning through your body, lighting you with a fire only she could put out. She watched with a smile, her power flickering to life as the years began to seep from your body.

Second by second.

Minute by minute.

She stole what little time you could have held with Logan. What might have existed now began to bleed into the air as her whip cut into your skin. The crimson stain of blood seeped into Logan's brown flannel shirt, staining the fabric permanently. A scream tore from your throat—eyes squeezing shut as you tried to block out the sensation that intended to ingrain itself in your mind.

"You are nothing but a replacement." She yanked another inch of the whip closer to her chest—blood pooling beneath the chair and seeping into the wood.

"PLEASE!" you screamed, body wracked with tremors that weren't there before. White began to seep into your hair, streaking down to the base in a long strip—staining you with an age you might never reach. "Please! I-I'll do anything."

She tutted under her breath, her face now at your eye level. "That's where you're wrong. You can't do anything that hasn't already been done honey."

Tears blurred your vision. "W-What?"

"He wouldn't save me." Silence echoed in the still air of the room. The pain slowed to a dull ache as you slumped forward. "So I'm going to make sure he can't save you."

"N-No-"

"Like I said...collateral damage."

Your scream pierced the air like a knife, shattering what peace might have remained, as time began to form around Fortuna. Permanently altering the future that once shone with a light by plunging it into a darkness with no escape. And you were trapped in the center. Unable to claw your way free, to break from the one thing no one could run from.

A hell of time’s own making.

note: i am sorry. we will have a happy ending. just not yet.

[villainsandvictimsalliance]

So many lonely people on Kaiju No. 8 had found companionship with Kafka.

He's the personification of support. A senpai, a role model, a hero, a friend, a cadet, a reliable worker, even a crush. He's someone you can trust and someone that wants to be there for you. Even the comedy relief guy or the saviour of the day!!

In the latest manga chapters he was a plushie for a little girl.

There's Reno who lost his entire family. Kafka took the role of the senpai with him: guide and teach the guy, talk with him, show him how to survive and inspire him. Reno met a genuinely good guy that was openly offering his help and friendship, so he went back to thank him and do the same. Hey, your dream is not over, Reno said. What did he get in return? Kafka sacrificing his life for him, telling him to run, giving up the most important thing in his life for Reno.

There's Mina, who is terrified of being alone. She found a personal clown in Kafka, yes, but he was also the boy who helped her keep her hope and made things easier. He would always go with her to the shelter during a kaiju attack, even if he was in another school. He told her she didn't have to kill kaijus all alone. He promised to be by her side. Mina was thrown into a world of giant burdens and expectations, where her failures could mean death and destruction. Kafka saw her not as the weapon she was, but as Mina.

Hoshina was constantly disrespected, overlooked and ignored. He gave Kafka a chance because he reminded Hoshina of himself. For his troubles, Hoshina got a guy that would work hard to reach his expectations, that would rival him, that would call him first thing and spend all that time worried and would apologize before turning into a kaiju to save their lives. Kafka became a friend of sorts to Hoshina through hard work and respect.

Kikoru was used to all types of reactions from the people around her, but not to the level of worry and pride and trust Kafka gave her. It was not for show, he was completely open and sincere in his feelings. Kikoru you're an asshole, Kikoru you're amazing, Kikoru pleaseeee take care of yourself, Kikoru I won't disappoint you, Kikoru you have my permission and gratitude if you kill me if I ever lose control, Kikoru I trust you to finish this battle.

The first thing Kafka did during the second part of the recruitment was support Aoi and Haruichi during their subjugation of a kaiju.

He saved Minase's life by partially turning and risking his life for it. He saved Iharu and Reno that day against No. 9.

Narumi told Kafka that only they knew the weight of the burden they carried for being there the day Isao Shinomiya was killed. Freaking Narumi, who wouldn't share that burden with anyone else.

Like it was noted by his boss while he was still part of the Cleaning Corps, Kafka would do his job after complaining, but he'd do it perfectly and do it again if asked to.

He's reliable. I know I said it before, but he is.

In a world where anyone can die any minute, in the Kaiju Country, Kafka is a presence you don't want to vanish. It's what Mina says: everything is easier with him around, anything is possible.

When in the first chapters Kafka tells the little girl to not be afraid because he'll go and everything will be okay— the girl thanks him. In the anime, the little girl even asks Mina to please not hurt the good kaiju. Once people have met him, they don't want him to go. They'd do anything for him not to go, not to die. When Kikoru saw him losing control and remembered her promise, she decided that she'd rather believe in him 'til the end. When Isao was about to disappear, he thought about Kafka and said he'd leave things up to him too.

Isn't that what it means to be a hero? To be able to say "leave it up to me" but also trust others to help you when you need it? Inspire people to support you because you supported them first?

The only thing scarier than the kaijus is to be left alone in the world— and Kafka fights that.

[rizsu]

professional guide on how to boyfriend jujutsu kaisen ( men ).

⤹ list ﹢ gojō satoru, sukuna ryōmen, chōsō.

﹙ syn ﹚ having near-to-zero experience with serious romantic relationships, it's time to teach them how to romance. the journey won't be easy, but the results will hopefully be fruitful.

extra. songs: betcha (bbh), seven (jk), very nice (svt).

week one : how to flirt as if you were shakespeare. note. refrain from using big words because they sound ‘cool’.

GOJO SATORU — "you're hating on my vocabulary?"

slowly, but very surely, you can feel your stress-meter rise to its peak. if someone were to animate your current expression, there will be three veins protruding out on your forehead to show your stress. it's almost as if it's second-nature for satoru to be annoying. he isn't doing it on purpose, unfortunately, it's just the way he is.

i should've ignored his call, a voice in your head speaks, i really should've. you were enjoying your own presence, simply lazing around during your off-day when three rings disrupted the peace. groaning, you reluctantly picked it up.

"hello—"

"come to enha's bakery, PLEASE," satoru's rushed voice spoke, immediately ending the call after his request-demand.

annoyance dawned and slowly transitioned into confusion. first, he needs to fix his habit of cutting you off. second, with the tone of his voice, maybe you should go.

big mistake.

not only was he chewing your ears off with talking, he also ate half of your pastry. you weren't able to get a full sentence in, he just kept going. dressed in suit and tie, hair styled and gelled up, satoru looked handsomely professional. according to what you've gathered from his rambling, he's been set up with one of the higher ups' daughter for business purposes. he needs to woo her or he's gonna lose a significant amount of pay. the problem? well, his flirting skills aren't all that. his confidence can help him, but it'll only help for a fraction of the date.

"what's the issue? you're handsome," you started, sliding your pastry back to you. "you should be able to woo her with your face alone."

"you are not wrong—"

"i'm never wrong," you cut him off.

"let me speak. anyway, i was informed that she isn't one for looks alone. i don't care about her, but she's the daughter of some high fucker," his voice reeked of defeat.

you weren't well-knowledged in satoru's field of work, but you knew he had it against the "higher ups." well, you had no choice but to know. satoru often thought of you as someone he can be free with — so, in conclusion, you were the victim of his word-vomit moments.

the two of you fell silent, thinking about solutions to save satoru. eyeing the pastry, you pondered your brain. there has to be a way to help satoru. perhaps some walkie-talkies? no, those are too loud. follow him into the restaurant and monitor his behaviour? no, that's too much work. crash his date and ask him why he's cheating on you? no, that'll probably end in your death.

satoru himself is deep in thought, already annoyed at the date that's going to become the bane of his existence in eight hours from now. should he bring you with him? maybe, but you'll deny his offer. should he ask you to pretend to be his girlfriend? no, he'd rather ask without the "pretend."

oh he's fucked.

i'm so fucked.

"wait," you leaned into the table, sporting an expression that says 'i have an idea'.

"yes?" satoru mirrors you, eyes speaking 'tell me'.

"what if i teach you how to flirt? we should have enough time to teach you how to boyfriend, right?" your idea was good. it turned the gears in both minds.

satoru opens his mouth but presses it into a thin line. there's an obstacle in the way of making this idea perfect.

"sounds good but.. the date's... tonight."

"you are fucked."

he nods at your response, feeling the salt rubbing in his wound. i guess i should just—

"but, if we go now we'll have enough time. it's 11AM, we can do it," you tapped your index finger twice on your phone's screen, showing satoru the time. if you move now, success is evident.

"let's go then," agreeing, he stands up, stuffing his car keys into his pocket and opening his wallet.

—

you've run out of pillows and whiteboard markers. the last two hours were spent either scribbling nonsense on a mini-whiteboard or throwing objects at satoru. the teaching isn't working. every lesson you've gone through ended in satoru's failure. is it on purpose? you hope it isn't.

"satoru, for the last time, that does not sound like a real word!" your hand slapped the table, physically showing your frustration.

groaning, satoru throws his head back, "you said use poetic words!"

"what part of scrumdiddlyumptious sounds poetic to you?!" you deadpanned at him.

he slouches further down the couch, grabbing his phone to search the word on google. it took him only one minute to find the word and its definition. raising up from slouching, he leans over the coffee table, stretching an arm out to show you the word.

"scrumdiddlyumptious — adjective · informal 1. (of food) extremely tasty; delicious. 2. (of a person) very attractive."

reluctant to admit defeat, you weaponized the word being informal against him, "it's not formal! you will not use it."

satoru's high of being right dies down immediately. his mouth twitches, eyes looking at you with disbelief.

"babe, you cannot be serious right now."

"babe, i am so serious right now," you mocked him, not thinking too deep into his nickname. there's no meaning behind it anyway. you, too, use babe as platonic name.

eventually, satoru tuned out your voice. he returned back to his previous slouching position, staring at you blankly as your words go in one ear and out the other.

it didn't take long for you to notice his dejected aura. does he hate it that much? you wondered, feeling a slight pity for him.

"don't worry, satoru. it's just one date."

"i will be worrying," satoru counters you, already sour at the date-to-come.

if he were to be honest, the date isn't the problem, nor is the flirting. he believes his flirting skills to be at a decent level. he also doesn't mind spending money on others. it's just that he doesn't want to entertain her. maybe, just maybe, if it were you, he'd be more excited.

you didn't say anything after him, only shooting him an annoying smile. seriously, you don't know what's worrying him. he's basically every girl's eye candy — not to mention, he looks so much like a boyfriend right now. that doesn't make a lot of sense, but if others can see what you're seeing, they'll understand. his white fitted tee accentuates his upper body's muscles, the black sweatpants do its job, his hair that's still styled, and the silver wristwatch on his hand. simple, yet sexy.

SUKUNA RYOMEN — "i'm too old for this shit."

sukuna, your sweet sukuna. your sukuna who's most likely weighing out which option is the better one to shut you up. he doesn't know why he agreed to listen to your rambles at midnight, but he's too far in to call it quitsies.

according to what you told him, you gained the idea of teaching him how to update his romance. it all came crashing to you when you were in the third-quarter of an episode of some random dating show. you blanked out most of the episode, not paying attention as the main objective of watching it was to not stare into nothing while eating.

the show itself didn't interest you, but the concept did. the participants were blindfolded, being told to use their judgement of character to choose their date. they'd have to rely on their personalities and voices to attract someone — a pretty neat idea. looks aren't everything. unfortunately, they might just be for sukuna if he doesn't work on his attitude.

often does sukuna act like he's a fifty-five-years-old office worker named penelope in the management department: old, easily annoyed, and always has something to complain about. you're probably the only human on earth who can handle sukuna for more than a day. of course, this is due to you being similar to him — if not then exactly like him. your attitudes fit together like jigsaw puzzle pieces.

sukuna's hands are clasped together behind his head, one leg raised on the bed, and torso out in the open for everyone to view. he's actively listening to you, giving his judgement here and there.

you're sitting with your legs criss-crossed, a pillow in the middle of your thighs, and hands speaking their own language. the habit of using your hands expressively when talking will never leave you.

"...so, if you were to find a girl, you neeed to be kind! no one likes a man with a stick up his ass," you warned sukuna, moving your index finger side-to-side.

"you do," sukuna says, raising an eyebrow at you.

unfortunately, he left you speechless — but not for long! you soon regained your speaking skills after realizing you don't have a good comeback.

coughing two times, you started your lesson again, "anyyyway, always tell her she's beautiful, gorgeous, breathless, or whatever. everyone loves a little compliment about their appearance!"

almost as if it's an automatic setting, sukuna replies, "what if she's facially challenged?"

"OH—" your jaw dropped. "sukuna, you can't just say that!"

he re-positions himself, this time laying on his side with his arm supporting his head.

"if someone's visually impaired i'm telling them."

you sighed, feeling disappointed at his brutual honesty, "what do you even mean by visually impaired?"

"they're ugly," he shrugs.

his tone isn't serious, implying that he's joking but you know he isn't. sukuna's a man of his word; the truth is what leaves his mouth every time. you shouldn't worry — you really, really shouldn't, but what if that's what he thinks about you? are you facially challenged in his eyes? you've gone silent, allowing yourself to drown in the thoughts.

sukuna notices your silence, sighs, and jabs your side with his foot.

"if you're thinking that i believe you're ugly, then stop," he begins, continuing the foot-jabbing-at-your-side-movement when you don't respond. "you're beautiful, believe me. you know i don't lie."

that catches your attention. you feel a sudden heat creeping up the back of your neck. keeping your voice low, you questioned him, still unsure of whether he's being truthful or not, "are you lying?"

"i swear," his voice is firm, reaching his free hand out to your thigh. physical contact to him is very important!

you return to the silence, only this time you lock your eyes in sukuna's. it's up to you to believe whether he's lying or not, and honestly, you don't care. you know he never lies, and you rather enjoy your fantasy instead of the harsh reality ( if he's truly lying ).

CHOSO — "man, fuck all that."

throughout your entire life you never expected to meet someone like choso. he is, in your words, a bitch boy. acts like a bitch, very expressive with his facial expressions, sarcastic, a male, and the worst of all, a little thief.

you humbly thought baking with choso would've been a good idea for celebrating the end of your finals. oh you were so wrong. he's messy, ate half the chocolate chips, and has been stealing spoons of cookie batter. when you confronted him, he simply said, "we can always make more," and shrugged. the audacity!

there's only so much choso someone can handle before they explode.

"you dumb fuck, how can you get a wife with this behaviour?!" you scolded, slapping his hand away from the freshly baked batch of cookies with a whisk.

he immediately retreats his hand, looking at you with an expression that says 'have you gone insane?'

"don't look at me like that," you warned, raising an eyebrow at his very well-hidden annoyance at you.

choso rolls his eyes, this time reaching the uninjured hand for the sprinkles. he sneakily slides the packet to him, intensely watching you to make sure you don't happen to see him committing such a crime. mouthing a little "yes!" at his victory, he empties half the sprinkles in his hand and throws it into his mouth.

"an’ wha’ if i ‘on't care about a wife," his words are muffled due to his mouth being filled with the sprinkles. he tries his best to hide the crunch sound, lowering his head each time he needs to crunch on some.

your back's still turned to him, simply too busy with monitoring sugar-soon-to-be-caramel on the stove.

"you're gonna have to care soon. you don't wanna die alone!" you nagged, making a point to him.

his right eyebrow raises at your words, lips ready to move at your hypocrisy, "you yourself said you don't want a partner!"

"at this point," you stopped, turning around to face choso. "i'm gonna have to teach you how to be a romantic young man."

"what are you implying...?"

"it's time for dating lessons."

"no, thank you."

unfortunately, choso has no say in this household. he had to listen. you sat him down on the chair, making sure he focuses with all his attention and doesn't steal any of the desserts. believe choso when he said he tried to take you seriously. he really did, but your messy apron along with vigorously hand-mixing batter with a serious expression as you talked his ear off caught him off-guard.

"sometimes you even have to get on your knees, choso! i'm telling you."

"i'm not doing all of that," he disagrees.

"oh, trust me. when you're in love you will," you spoke, resting the hand-mixer down to draw an invisible heart in the air.

he doesn't give you a verbal response. instead, he squints his eyes at you. when one's gone, another is born. when one stress is gone, another is born ( your nagging ). he doesn't like it one bit, but at least it's coming from you. he'd rather have you down his ears — whether it's by using your vocals or channeling your inner mother and scolding him.

[coddda]

Hiiiiiii. Episode 25/26 lawlight analysis rant thingy here. I don't know how to write an intro for this so let's just get to it LOL

I think one of the reasons that the rain/foot scenes stick out so much (the. Sheer insanity of a Foot Massage Scene in an anime revolving around two guys trying to kill each other aside 💀) is the fact that the anime specifically suffers a bit in terms of adapting a few of the "emotional" moments in death note.

And I don't mean "emotionally impactful" exactly. For example I think the adaptations of scenes like Raye and Naomi's deaths were very impactful and the atmospheres of their final scenes were great, but I mean more from a characterization standpoint (if that makes sense). Being more focused on mind and logic games, Death Note as a whole isn't as invested in individual characters' deeper feelings as it is in its action (which isn't necessarily a criticism per say, it's simply part of the nature of a mystery thriller series). But just because they're fewer and farther between doesn't mean there are none at all. In the manga we do get to see, for example, how much Light actually cared for his family and especially Sayu, and how he actually felt more conflicted and suffered lack of sleep/appetite when he first used the Death Note.

The anime specifically as an adaptation is pretty good at adapting the main mind fuckery and action of Death Note, but its lacking in properly adapting scenes like the ones I mentioned above is a criticism I see somewhat often, and it's pretty fair imo. Compared to all the other adaptations, it certainly seems to fall short on an emotional level: the musical has entire songs going in depth about the characters feelings and relationships, the 2015 jdrama is. Insane and has its emotional moments in spades (because it's a TV drama, which are more focused on portraying emotional conflict and the like), even the 2006 movies has its emotional beats and L Change the WorLd is. Well. Oh Man.

Anime Light to a lot of people is like. Light but he's "already evil" (which I have my own thoughts on but I digress). Light but after using the Death Note for like 2 minutes he's already like "fuck yeah time to kill criminals". Basically the anime doesn't take as much time to delve into his less cynical sides or really delve into his already vague and harder to decipher feelings in general, he is noticeably colder from the get-go here, etc.

But that's part of why I think episode 25 manages to stand out so much tonally (apart from it being, y'know, the episode L literally Dies). I love the episode so much and could probably rant for hours about how much I love the artistic choices made in it but what I'm trying to get at here is that it's one of the very few moments where the show tries to go deeper into specific character's emotions, and one of the very few moments where the show Attempts (emphasis on "attempts" because, well, you'll see in a bit) to get more in-depth into Light's feelings apart from his cynicism/apathy/justice. ness.

L in these two scenes in episode 25 is, well, pretty damn open about how he feels. It's usually interpreted as him knowing that he's going to die, and you can see it. He visibly looks/sounds lost, somber, etc. He never really had much to hide around Light to begin with (since he doesn't really care about hiding himself the same way Light does) but especially not now and it Shows, and I personally thought it was pretty cool to delve into his thoughts/show how he feels this way. The somberness can be felt throughout the entire scene, even people who don't already know the plot of Death Note from the manga could probably tell that he's about to die.

In the manga, once L starts suspecting Misa again and Rem realizes what Light is trying to do, it goes straight to Watari and L's deaths, but the anime instead gives a distinct and unexpected pause in the middle of this where L contemplates his own death. It's fucking great, and the shift from straight action to slower emotional weight makes these scenes stand out a lot, since, like I said, the show usually focuses more on the former. But it's kind of ironic, too.

Not only does the anime open up L's feelings more in these scenes, but it also tries to dig deeper into Light's feelings as well through L. And it's really funny honestly because while, yes, these are the more "emotionally open" scenes of the anime Light still manages to be Incredibly avoidant and contribute almost nothing to the entire ordeal.

L is visibly upset -> "Yeah Ryuzaki, you're not making any sense at all" (Not addressing the obvious conflict from L)

"Tell me, Light. From the moment you were born, has there ever been a point where you've actually told the truth?" -> "[The most stale, over-explained, avoidant answer to a "yes/no" question that you could ever hear + blatant attempts to reframe the question]"

(L's half-smile here kills me) "I had a feeling you'd say something like that" -> [Nothing]

"I'm sorry" -> [Nothing]

"It'll be lonely won't it? You and I will be parting ways soon" -> [Nothing]

^ From this point Light continues to say literally Nothing for the rest of the scene. I'm not even joking, from then on the rest of Light's voicelines are reduced to nothing but vague noises of confusion.

Everytime L calls Light out as a person ("Has there ever been a point where you've actually told the truth?" / "I had a feeling you'd say something like that." / "Won't it be lonely?") he doesn't actually acknowledge anything. Out of those three lines, he only answers verbally to if he's ever told the truth, and even then it's the most blatantly people-pleasing answer ever, as it usually is with Light. And I don't think it's because Light just. Doesn't care about any of what L's saying at all, or that he doesn't know what the hell he's talking about (questioning Light's authenticity as a person, saying it would be lonely when they part), instead he's choosing not to acknowledge any of what this means about himself or him and L at all. He's like a fucking wall.

And like, for the truth question in particular, the show makes sure that you know it's not something that Light just. Doesn't care enough about to answer. The hard cuts to silence are a very rare but extremely effective way that the show conveys an extremely important moment (see: Light regaining his memories, Matsuda noticing Light opening the warehouse door before he escapes (not as much of a "direct" cut to silence but still)), and cuts to multiple angles/framings/zooms of the exact same shot are also used for the same purpose (see: Light hugging Misa when she was crying, Matsuda aiming his gun to shoot Light, Light regaining his memories Again). Just like the scene where Light gets his memories back, the moment L's question finishes the show utilizes both. That question cut Deep. There's is a solid Almost 5 seconds of silence before the sound of the rain gradually starts fading back in, and honestly that should be telling enough as is (but of course Light doesn't actually admit that. Or anything at all really, so). Oh also another fun detail! We do not see Light's face At All (except for the shot where you can see his mouth moving but not his eyes), for the Entire time that he's going on his spiel to L. We Will Be Revisiting This Later, by the way. This is not, in fact, the first time you're going to see this detail from Light.

The only sort of reciprocation that we see from Light during Any of these two scenes is when Light dries L's hair while L dries his feet. Biblical meanings/references aside it's interesting because it's the only time he directly does anything "for" L in these scenes, but even then he doesn't try to pass it off as anything meaningful really the same way L does ("You're still soaked", a purely neutral and factual statement. It doesn't Add Anything compared to L's. Sin atonement loneliness grieving stuff. While Light is showing his own reciprocation to this more personal moment he also tries to keep it impersonal enough that it doesn't actually have to mean anything deep). And when L says "I'm sorry" after he once again gets no response from Light. It's also after this that L gets that pained look on his face, like he knows that at this point he's not actually going to get anything meaningful from Light (again, very significant and rare from L in the show. We've seen him in distress (see: when Ukita died, hell, when Watari dies), but even then he mostly manages to keep his usually neutral expression), we never see him "look sad" like he does here):

I just think it's interesting that this is one of the few scenes in this particular adaptation of Death Note where they try to open up the character's thoughts/feeling (especially considering the fact that they. lowkey blunder in adaptations of original scenes from the manga), and L himself is being rather open (not that he ever really tries to hide what he thinks nearly as much as Light), and yet all Light contributes to it in return is like. Actually nothing. Bro fumbled it. There is no resolution to any of this, to any of what L asks at all, to any of the many opportunities for a meaningful conversation, and the only thing even relatively close to an answer that you can get from Light is what you can infer from how he acts in the episode after L dies, where he's just going through the motions, but hardly acting as if he's actually living at all.

(Honestly I think the transition from this scene with the taskforce to the subsequent scene with Misa says enough on its own. Light's expressions and tone says everything:)

(Oh sidenote but. This shit again:

"Light, this is our first date in forever. can't you enjoy yourself a little more?" ('Why don't you seem happy? We can finally be together since L is dead') -> No response, Light instead changing the topic to him wanting to move in with Misa without changing his mannerisms at all

Also there's that one detail again. You pretty much don't see Light's expression when he speaks here at all, except for one shot of his eyes, which is quite literally the exact same shot they used when he "saw" L, just altered for the new setting. You have No idea what he looks like when he's responding to Misa, although it's probably fair to assume that it's the same empty stare he has for the whole Two Shots where you can clearly see his whole expression in the entire scene.

Something something Light Yagami bad at feelings I think you get the point though)

I guess Light's Kind of showing what he's feeling now? He'll admit to himself that it's boring without L, but no more than that. Light never actually admits to anything "significant", and L's dead already anyway, so what would that even do?

And then we get, uh. Basically nothing from Light. For the next 5 Years. Except that he joined the NPA, so, uh, yay? Good job, Light you totally nailed it! Thank you for allowing us as an audience to delve deeper into your inner thoughts and feelings as a character so we can find out more about you as a person! Very helpful! Thank you for not sabotaging one of your few dedicated opportunities to look into yourself as a person and reflect on your relationships with others and being 100% honest with yourself! We stay winning guys.

Anyway, this got way too long for a scene that's over a decade old, and I've probably just said everything that everyone else has already said in this fandom before. But unfortunately this has been living in my head for way too long and I must scream. I just think this episode's neat is all :)

tl;dr Part of the reason why the rain/foot scene (tbh episode 25 in General) stands out so much is because the Death Note anime specifically was a bit robbed in terms of its more emotional character moments compared to the other medias, which makes more somber/introspective scenes like the ones in episode 25 stand out a Lot in comparison. But it's also incredibly ironic because it's one of the few moments where the show (or specifically L) tries to look deeper into Light's character, but because he is so avoidant for the entire duration of these two scenes he adds basically nothing at all. It's almost funny. Mostly sad. It's also very gay. Aand post

Okay actually nevermind one more thing I talked about how the jdrama is supposed to be more emotionally in-depth because it is a TV Drama and just for the record, same thing happens there! I could probably do an entire analysis of the Blue Scene in this context like I did with episode 25 but I'd literally be here forever, so uh, just take this iconic line as my main example:

Same Thing. L's statement "I wish we could have met some other way" is personal. It's his own wish, his own regret that he is expressing to Light. While Light's reply obviously has that same regret implied it's also phrased in a specifically impersonal way. It's closed off. "This is the only way we could have met" it closes off the topic and simply renders L's wish as ultimately futile. Light does not say that he Also wishes he could have met L a different way even if it was likely impossible, instead it's a cold statement of cynical fact.

Idk just. Something something L being able and Willing to be more openly sentimental/emotionally open towards Light/about Light vs. Light's inability to be honest with anyone including himself and his own nature preventing any form of meaningful reciprocation. Something something self-sabotage, y'know the drill. God don't even get me Started on how sincere L's tone is when he says "It'll be lonely won't it?"(at least in the eng dub) in the anime I could talk about his tone in that scene for ages. Also yes all of this relates to L Change the WorLd too by the way. Don't ask how it just does okay.

I do think that scenes like these (rain/foot scene, The Blue Scene. Uh. L Change the WorLd The Novel Adaptation) show, at least in those adaptations, that L does genuinely care for Light, and show that he values him as a friend not just in the mindgame-equal sense but also just like, a more sincere sense you know. Idk if that made any sense and that's a whole other topic for another day but you guys just have to believe me on this one alright please please believe me buries head in hands. Okay post over finally thanks for coming to my tedtalk hope you enjoyed my very-unnecessarily long analysis of the week

[littlestardude]

⏤͟͟͞͞☆Dating Kenny HCS|| Reader x Kenny McCormick

✰ - SFW & NSFW - ✰

Plot: Just sum HCS!

Note: I love Kenny McCormick so fucking much he's so pookie smookie, also first post yippee!

TW: Drugs, death bcs of drugs (its Kenny he comes back-), incest ment (concerning rats), smut HCS at the end

Gender: AFAB Gen neutral

✰ - SFW - ✰

FLIRTS NONSTOP. all day every day, he just doesn't fucking stop. But the moment you flirt back.

Bro is dead, 6 feet under, giggling and kicking his feet

Has trouble falling asleep and sometimes you'll wake up and he'll be just staring at you

"Kenny what the fuck are you doing... "

"You're so pretty... Can I not stare at my partner in the middle of the night!? :(("

Demands you cuddle him to sleep

Did I mention touchy?

Yea

Super fucking touchy

Literally has to be touching you all the time as if you we're his phone in his pocket or he'll freak out

Actually learned the value of life once you stepped in. He's died only once.

Why you ask? In his words

"I can NOT just say no to free drugs"

Drugs in question were something called... Crazy 8...basically 8 fucking drugs mixed together.

Yea he wasn't gonna survive.

Now you have to keep an eye on him, and tell him to just stick with weed

Oh yeah weed

Bro is toasted most of the time.

AND reeks of weed 24/7

Anytime you smell weed the first thought that pops into your head is, "where's Kenny? "

Basically weed is a comforting smell to you now 💀

Asked you to get high with him

You were reluctant at first but then you tried it... Let's just say it's a common occurrence now

You think he's flirty when he's sober? When he's high omfg.

Compliments like crazy, and can actually take compliments back when he's high

You adore high Kenny because he literally turns into the silliest mf alive

Super duper touchy when you're both high, like on top of each other the whole time

Piercings out the wazoo

Tattoos to come...

You let him shower at your place so he actually became CLEAN once you started dating.

Like his hair is actually touchable now, and not greasy

He's still a rat boy tho, and does dirty rat boy things

Actually HAS rats

You came over one time and he introduced you to his ratty children

"This is Frankie, and Frankie Jr, and Frankie Jr Jr, and that's Maggy, and Rosie and- FRANKLIN JR GET OFF YOUR SISTER RIGHT NOW! >:("

"Um, Ken... I don't know how to tell you this but rats dont care about incest..."

Almost cried, "it's like medieval Spain all over again... "

You pat his back, "it never gets easier... " you sighed dramatically

Loves animals, you guys wanna get a dog and cat together!

He loves you and adores you so much

He thinks you're the best person to ever come out of this cruel world, and he tells you that all the time

You also love him. So much. You think he's the prettiest, sweetest boy

You tell him that most of the time when you think he's asleep, he usually isn't because he loves hearing it

Back to the weed thing, LOVES when u guys order McDonald's when ur both high and have the munchies

Bro can throw down 2 big macs, 1 double quarter pounder, 20 piece chicken nuggets, and 2 orders of large fries and still be like

"I need something sweet... " 💀

Anytime you're out with your friends, Kenny's usually wearing his parka and you're the only one who can understand Kennish

Also holding hands the whole time

It took you awhile to get used to the fact you had a super clingy partner but you got used to it

You guys were able to get a place together eventually after high school

It's super shitty but it's home <3

You'll eventually upgrade after grueling work and endless shifts

But you definitely make time for each other

✰ - NSFW - ✰

(The fun begins *rubs hands evily together*)

SWITCH KENNY SUPREMACY!!! Literally does not mind either, as long as he's with you and he's naked? And you're naked? Bros chilling

Fucking loves oral, receiving and giving

First time he ate you out, you were on cloud mf 9, seeing stars n shit

He LOVES your thighs, like before he eats you out he just likes kissing and squeezing your thighs

HOWEVER. The first time you sucked him off. Omg, HIS thighs were MESMERIZING.

Something about boys thighs... Just seeing them pushed together, your fucking weakness.

His thighs are pale and ever so slightly plushy... Help me

KNOWS WHAT TO DO WITH HIS MF HANDS‼️

He grabs you and stimulates you in the best fucking spots

LOVES COCKWARMING. NEED I SAY LESS.

You guys will just be chilling watching a movie, and he'll just go like

"Babeeeee... " that's literally all he needs to say bcs you know what he wants.

After some time of just being on his dick it kinda hits you, "I'm on his cock, I could literally do what ever I want... " you think, evily

You'll shift your body around to where you're looking at him and he already knows what's coming, his hands are IMMEDIATELY on your hips

And you start slowly bouncing up and down

Doesn't take him long to start making noises

He's very vocal during sex, he sees no point in staying silent

Plus the first time he moaned super loud during sex you literally came on the spot.

Now he can't help but moan and whimper when you're on top of him because he knows you love it

AFTERCARE KINGG

Usually urges you two to take a shower after sex

Sometimes ends up into shower sex if the both of you still have the energy

You bought a shower stool so you both could fuck in the shower because one time he almost slipped and will NEVER live it down

"IT WAS SUPER SLIPPERY OKAY"

"You stepped on the soap babe... You almost went flying"

Yea a shower stool and those mats for the shower floor

[fushiglow]

Gojō Satoru's rude awakening

I'm refusing to let myself seriously entertain the possibility that Gojō can come back after chapter 236. However, that's because I'm trying to protect my future self from disappointment, not because I think it's implausible — and I really want to talk about this image!

A couple of days ago, @runabout-river shared an interesting theory about what might happen next for Gojō. The post itself is well worth a read, but it was the choice of the above image that really set my mind alight. This scene is fresh in our minds after the anime adaptation of Hidden Inventory, and timing is clearly never an accident with Gege Akutami. So, why is it relevant now?

We see Gojō giving himself over to his past, lost in his happy dreams of his youth, only for Megumi — Gojō's first student and a symbol of the future that he envisions — to bring him back to the present by telling Gojō, "You're the one who called us here, please don't go dozing off."

In other words, "You're the one who dragged us into all of this, don't go pretending this isn't reality just because it's nicer in the past."

In my immediate reaction to 236, I said:

Gojō's dying bloody smile shows he's at least happy in his final moments. [...] Although, if Gojō actually is at peace in death, maybe that's the reason Gege will bring him back. He'll *never* let that man be happy, I swear.

It was just a joke, but seeing @runabout-river's post made me realise that Akutami has already set a precedent for 'punishing' Gojō for looking backwards. When he's dreaming about his past, Megumi scolds him and brings him back to the present. When he 'lets his mind wander' to his blue spring in Shibuya, he literally gets locked in a box where time doesn't pass, only to immediately find himself at the bottom of Japan's deepest ocean trench when his students bust him out to fix the problem he created.

As a side note, in both of these moments, the anime adaptation played a melancholy version of Gojō's Limitless theme — the audio representation of Gojō's youth. I'll eat my hat if it doesn't play again when chapter 236 is eventually adapted (I shared some more insights into some of the easter eggs hidden in the season 2 score in my mini review of the Hidden Inventory soundtrack if you wanna read).

If Gojō dies here, looking backwards to his youth, then he's taking the easy way out and that's what I find hardest to swallow about 236. Gojō leaves what is potentially the most difficult conversation he'll ever have — telling Megumi the truth about his father — to Shōko. He leaves his students to deal with the fallout of his failure to cremate Getō's body. He's saddling the people he loves with the responsibilities he leaves behind, and that's not fair.

However, we won't know if that's what's happened for sure until the whole story is told. Gojō doesn't mention his students in this chapter, and lots of people were bewildered that he seems unconcerned about their safety in a world without him. While that could simply be explained by his faith that they've "got it from here", there's a chance that he genuinely didn't think about it and he's about to get a rude awakening as his punishment — hence, "I pray that this isn't just a delusion".

I would *adore* it if Shōko dragged him back to life kicking and screaming, hauling him away from his pleasant fantasy of youth to tell him, 'No, you and Getō don't get to leave me behind to pick up the pieces again'. Because isn't that Shōko as a character? The one who's left to pick up the pieces in their wake? The one to heal the wounds and lay the bodies to rest while everyone forgets she's even there?

It would be the most character development she ever receives, and I'd love to see how Gojō and Shōko's dynamic changes when he's not the 'Strongest' anymore. So, in Shōko's own words:

[mikobeautifulheart]

hi!! 💗

i was wondering if you could do a yuji drabble wherein he walks into our dorm and we're just BAWLING and he goes to comfort us thinking it's serious and is like "it's okay.. you're bf is here.." bc he SUCKS as comforting people (LMFAOO) and then after a while when we calm down we tell him (still crying..?) that one of our favorite MALE (heskeske) characters died in an anime and he just gets all dramatic and jealous and then gets gojo-sensei in on the situation 🤭🤭 like a whole AITA 💀

this request is a bit short and not so explanatory, but idc how you write it since it's yuji and i'll read ANYTHING abt yuji. 💋

ASK AND YOU. SHALL. RECIVEEEEE. (Recive it unedited.)

Here we go.

Yuji who sucks at comforting you only to getting jealous over 'guy'

Yuji knocks on your door, he wanted to drop off some of the books he borrowed from you only to get no response. It was weird because he knew you were in your dorm...

"NOOOOOO" You yelled making Yuji panic

"Y/N ARE YOU OKAY?" He said as he burst open your door only to see you balled up on your bed crying into your pillow while muttering random sentences hysterically.

"He was-HIC- so-HIC-"

"Calm down Y/N are you okay?!" Yuji asked scanning your body for any inguries

"NOO IM NOT" you shouted throwing the pillow in your arms at the T.V infront of you before going back to crying.

"Shhhh calm down what if Nobora hears you?" he said with an awkward look on his face.

You stopped everything and stared at him.

"You monster-" you said before the tears rolled down your cheeks again.

"Do you not care?" you said through tears with your lip quivering.

"Okay, okay, i'm sorry but I can't help you if I don't know wats wrong." he said rubbing circles in your back in an attempt to soothe you.

It was no use because you really started to cry now.

"What's going on? I heard someone crying" Gojo asked sticking his head in the door way of your dorm.

"First he-he, and now Yuji, MY OWN BOYFRIEND DOSEN'T CARE ABOUT ME"

"I DO!" he retaliates

Gojo scans the room laying his eyes on your T.V seeing the end credits of Demon slayer playing. His face went white.

"No- Don't tell me-"

You nodded your head up and down aggressively while sniffing into a tissue

"RENGOKU-SAN" Gojo yelled grabbing the T.V by the screen watching the credits go by.

Yuji finally realized what this was all about.

"Are you kidding me?" He turned to you stiffly.

"Y/N...He's not real, your crying over someone who's not real-"

You and Gojo both froze

"Yuji, clearly you don't understand the gravity of the situation" Gojo starts.

"You see when someone with a pure heart and soul dies, no matter if they are real OR NOT, its a hard loss. Its like if they killed the earth worm man in the first Human worm movie."

Yuji turns his attention back to you

"You didn't even cry this much when I 'died'" Yuji mumbled

"THATS COMPLETLY DIFFERENT!" You said offended that he would even consider bring that up right now.

"YOUR RIGHT, HES NOT REAL AND YOUR CRYING OVER HIS DEATH WHILE I 'DIED' AND YOU DIDN'T EVEN CRY THIS MUCH."

Mean while Gojo laid on your floor muttering the lyrics to the end credit song while crying.

THANKS FOR READING ♡

AUTHORS NOTE: some of this totally isn't based off a personal experience. Anyways I hope this is close to what you wanted anon. And thanks for your request. reblogs are welcomed btw.

[oneatlatime]

The Tales of Ba Sing Se PART 2

The Tale of Zuko

Maybe I should make a Zuko's Stupid Faces post.

Zuko and Iroh's whole dynamic in one frame.

This girl is cute. Total girl next door type. She does have fairly horrible taste in men, but she's also very cute.

I just want to take a minute to point out a VERY important distinction. Zuko is not going out on a date. Zuko is not taking a girl out on a date. A girl is taking Zuko out on a date. She's got that arm in a death grip. Not only is that a clever reversal of the usual hetero dynamic, but I'm convinced it's the only way Zuko would ever get any action, so it's also in character.

I know Zuko's social skills are non-existent, but apart from the blow up at the waiter he is actually trying. He's failing, but I have to give him points for trying.

The way this girl's voice actress says "You juggled" made my ears very happy. And the beleaguered "yes. I juggled." is equally good.

Zuko! Tell her you did sword stuff! That's something you can actually do!

It gives me hope that someone so steeped in the most toxic parts of the Fire Nation, for so long, can STILL be so bad at lying, but it would certainly be a handy skill right about now.

I take it back. This girl does have good taste in men. Zuko's such a softie when it counts. He still sucks at being normal, but he just risked his identity because the girl he didn't even plan to go out with was a little bit sad.

This girl is the best.

Ha! He kissed her back! He Did! I saw that!

I take back what I took back. Zuko's evil again. He made my new favourite girl droop.

I love that Iroh's waiting up for him while making it look like he isn't waiting up for him. How many times on their ship, when Zuko was out Blue Spiriting, do you think Iroh found a reason to be randomly sat on the deck at 3 am?

Character development baby! Can you really call yourself loyal to the fire nation if you admit to having a good time on a date with an Earth Kingdom girl?

The Tale of Momo

Pretty.

That was a FILTHY bait and switch. For one shining moment, I had Appa back.

They should take that to June.

Not Appa.

Also not Appa.

I did not have 'Momo gets gaslit' on my Avatar Bingo card. Nor did I have 'interspecies animal friendship angst.'

Are these cat things the raccoons of the Avatar universe? Or the squirrels? Urban scroungers?

I love the idea that this guy just grabs the closest squirrel, sticks a hat on it, and expects it to dance. He got lucky with Momo.

I thought they were taking the animals to the pound, but this is very much a butcher. Which means that in Ba Sing Se, they eat varmint. Stay away from the hot dog carts.

That's very effective Simglish.

Thank god for thumbs.

Aw they're friends! This has Aristocats vibes, when O'Malley and the girl cat are getting together near the end.

And one final Fuck You, because god forbid Momo's tale ends on a happy note.

I'm guessing that's an Appa print, but couldn't it also be a platypus bear?

Something about the cats standing vigil over Momo's grief gets to me.

Final thoughts

I'll go through each of these stories individually, but first some general comments.

Last episode was kind of intense, and definitely ended on a downer (not that this one didn't), so it was a good call to at least start this episode off on something a bit gentler.

I was really impressed with the soundtrack throughout. Apart from the Tale of Momo where it's the animal noises that are front and centre, the music is doing a lot of work in every story, the strings especially. The strings are doing emotional work, plot stuff, and even humour. Seriously, next time you rewatch this episode, pay attention to the strings. These shorts are actually very light on dialogue (apart from Sokka's), but they don't feel that way because the music is doing the talking.

I'm assuming that this all took place over three days at least, since Iroh, Zuko, and Momo's tales seem to end on different evenings. So I don't think calling this episode 'day in the life' is accurate. My bad. It also occurs to me that this kind of episode format would be a great way of showing time has passed. If they had had an episode like this in the Northern Water Tribe - after Katara beat the crap out of Poophead but before the Fire Nation attacked - I would have liked the pacing of the whole finale arc better.

On to the stories!

The Tale of Toph and Katara

It might be because I didn't understand what this episode was doing yet, but this one didn't do much for me. It was good to see Toph have a moment of self-doubt, but I never would have assumed, based on her previous behaviour, that her appearance was her proverbial weak spot. Katara did a really good job at building her back up, and she was delightfully (and appropriately) understated for once. When she's reassuring Aang of something (especially in Season 1) Katara tends to got from 0 to 60 very quickly, so it was nice to see her be reassuring in a quiet, non-steamrolling way. Is this Katara character development? Apart from the fact that Toph quite literally got her eyeballs sanded, nothing much in this episode stuck out to me. Except those bitchy voices. Those were like knives in my brain.

The Tale of Iroh

So many questions! Is Lu Ten buried in Ba Sing Se? How is that grave not defaced yet? How did Iroh get a copy of his son's picture? They lost everything at the North Pole, right? Did he ask the people who got him their passports for a picture of his son too? Does Zuko know/remember that it's his cousin's birthday? If so, why isn't he there offering Iroh the world's most awkward hug? Given the fact that Iroh spent the whole day helping people, including a very misguided youth, and given that Iroh says something along the lines of "if only I could have helped you [his son]" does this imply that Lu Ten was going through a crisis at the time of his death? Was he misguided like the wannabe mugger? Is Zuko not the first Fire Nation Prince that Iroh has had to guide through an identity/existential crisis? Is Zuko going to be the first time Iroh succeeds at guiding a Fire Nation prince through an identity/existential crisis? Does Iroh live in perpetual fear of failing Zuko the way he seems to believe he failed his son? Am I reading too much into this?

To be quite honest, this story would have hit me harder if I had remembered going into it that Iroh had a son. Lu Ten takes being a textual ghost to a whole new level. Also the 'In honor of Mako' text confused me. And worried me a little.

The Tale of Aang

I liked this one! Aang can't help Appa at the moment, but he can help all the Appa stand ins who aren't fortunate enough to have an Aang to help them. Aang is a nice little boy! Of course he'd free a bunch of animals without thinking about the consequences and the epic pile of platypus bear dung he's just landed the zookeeper in with the Dai Li. I liked the animal designs. I liked the earthbending. I liked the Siamese cat representation. I loved cabbage man. I think that, if Appa could have known, he would have approved. I also think that I'm once again reading too much into this. it was nominally a fun fluff piece elaborating on a established emotional conflict (Appa missing), which gave it just enough weight to be slightly more than a fluff piece.

The Tale of Sokka

I am entirely serious when I say that 'poetry bouncer' is my favourite joke so far in the WHOLE show. I love absurdity played entirely earnestly. It's fridge funny too. The longer I contemplate the implications, the funnier it gets. What past event required a poetry bouncer be introduced? He's not there to protect the students or the teacher; he's here to reinforce the structure of the Haiku by force. Was he hired by the concept of Haiku? Is Haiku taken so seriously in Ba Sing Se that he's needed to break up cat fights between students? There is a rich well of haiku-related hijinks just hinted at by his presence, and I want to know more.

Sokka is so often his own worst enemy that it makes sense that he's taken out by his own hubris. That fortune teller lady was absolutely a crook, but she did one hell of an accurate cold read on Sokka.

The Tale of Zuko

Credits tell me that the girl's name is Jin. I would like to congratulate the creators of Avatar for managing to illustrate romantic interest so palpably without resorting to heart eyes and steam whistle noises. Nothing wrong with those; I'm just impressed by how much of Jin's interest in Zuko you can feel. Also, she'd better be more than a single episode character, because I need more of this sweetheart. She's a real contender for displacing Toph as my favourite girl in the cast.

To be fair to Zuko, he did make Jin droop (UNFORGIVABLE), but it was also the right call. He can't date her honestly. It IS complicated. And I don't think any Earth Kingdom girl (worth dating) would knowingly go out with Fire Nation royalty. Jin wanted Lee the Tea Boy. Try as he might, Zuko can't stop being Zuko. I would argue that he shouldn't stop being Zuko. His flashback mom told him not to forget who he was, so I'd also argue that the narrative doesn't want Zuko to stop being Zuko either. I guess it's a case of right girl, wrong time. It looks like she's cool with him being a firebender, but firebending and being the Fire Lord's son are not the same magnitude of hurdle to dating. Maybe when the war's over they can hook up again.

The Tale of Momo

I think this qualifies as cruelty to the audience. I got the impression that this story was crafted borderline maliciously, to make the viewers suffer angst dump after angst dump.

I liked seeing things from Momo's perspective. I loved the animal noises, which really got across a shocking amount of emotion. Those, combined with body language, were as effective as any spoken script. These cartoon people really know how to use their medium.

It absolutely kills me that Momo is missing Appa, and since he doesn't understand human speech, he can't even be comforted by knowing that his humans are actively looking for him. If you've ever seen one of your pets missing another of your pets in real life, you know there's nothing worse than the helplessness that comes with not being able to explain or magically summon their friend back from the kennel, or the vet, or the dead. All you can do is give them hugs. I'm glad that Momo got a street cat support group at the end of the episode, but the animal grief at the beginning was hard to get through. It's sweet to have confirmation that Momo sees Appa as family, but surely they could have showed that to us in a way that doesn't make me need to hug the stuffing out of my own pets?

Final Final Thoughts for real this time

This episode wrings you out a little. Fully a third of the stories are about Appa, despite him not being there. At least half are about missing someone who isn't there. At least half are bittersweet.

I liked this episode format. I hope they use it again next season. Only Toph and Katara's tale felt too short to me. The rest did such a good job at drawing me in, that when I went back to check timestamps I was surprised by how short these stories are.

I'm going to go eat too much chocolate.

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

Note: I know I said I wouldn't write/post a fic today, but I couldn't stop myself in my grief, and I needed a LOT of fluff as well as a coping mechanism. So here I am, with a little ode to my beloved Thor. Firefighter chapter 3, direct follow up to part 2.

Warnings: suggestive/fluff. mention of animal death, grief and a brief hint to childhood trauma.

pairing: Modern!Sihtric x you (f)

summary: Sihtric stuck by your side after the incident with your cat.

wordcount: 3,7k

Masterlist

'Do you hate me? For what happened?'

After you saw your Mister Meow Meow under Sihtric's car, Sihtric had held you tightly wrapped in his arms, pressed against his chest. He cried just as hard as you did, and kept murmuring endless 'I'm so sorry, love,' and 'I really didn't see him,' as he held you. Sihtric eventually asked what you wanted to do with Meow Meow's body, and you said he should be buried.

'Next to the tree he always climbed in,' you sniffled, 'where you and I first met.'

Sihtric smiled softly and agreed. He wiped your tears and you tried to wipe his eyeliner, which had run down his cheeks, as best as you could. Sihtric picked Meow Meow up in his arms and carried the lifeless body inside. You figured the poor cat had been sleeping on your driveway, as usual, because no one normally used it at that hour, so it was one of his favourite spots to nap, when you'd let him out of the house. And you completely forgot that Meow Meow had escaped through the open back door when you and Sihtric had sex on the living room floor, before the BBQ. And therefore it didn't cross your mind that he could be sleeping in your driveway, but when you heard that thump, you immediately knew what had happened. At least he was asleep, you thought, so he went rather… peacefully.

You searched your attic for a box in which your furry friend would fit, and you draped it with a soft cloth. Sihtric had cleaned Meow Meow up as best as he could, and carefully laid him inside the box, then stood back and let you do your thing. You petted Meow Meow on his little head and pressed a soft kiss to it, then you put some of his favourite toys in the box with him, as well as a few cat treats he loved. 

'Maybe he'll need a snack on his way,' you sobbed with shocking shoulders. 

Sihtric wrapped his arm around you as you both looked down into the box, and he held you tight when you broke out in tears again.

'Do you wish to bury him now?' Sihtric asked after a few minutes, wiping a tear from his own face, 'it's quite late. I mean, I don't mind it, love, I'll dig a hole right now if you want. But maybe you want to wait until the morning?'

'Maybe it's better in the morning,' you sniffled, 'it's really dark out there, near the tree.'

Sihtric agreed, kissed your forehead and cupped your cheeks. 'Can I do anything for you right now, sweetheart, tell me?'

'Will you s-stay here with me?' you fought your tears, 'tonight? I'd like to sleep at… at my house now.'

Sihtric looked at you, compassionately, and he pressed another soft kiss to your forehead, then to your lips.

'Of course, doll,' he whispered, 'but I do really have to stop by my place to feed… you know,' he struggled to say 'his cat', afraid you'd resent him for still having a breathing cat at home.

'I know,' you said, 'you should go and feed Dog,' you smiled lightly at the silly name of his cat, 'and give him a cuddle for me.'

'I will,' Sihtric smiled softly, 'will you be okay here for like half an hour?'

'Yeah,' you looked back at Meow Meow, 'it'll give me some time alone to say goodbye, I guess.'

Sihtric studied you, desperately hoping you would be okay.

'I'll be okay,' you reassured him when you saw the look in his eyes, 'it'll just be weird, to sleep without a cat on the bed, you know?'

'I know,' Sihtric said, 'I promise I'll be back soon, okay?'

He pecked your face all over and then kissed your lips again. 'See you in a bit, babe,' he whispered before he kissed your cheek.

And when Sihtric drove off your driveway, he started sobbing behind the wheel. Another animal died because of me, he thought.

After an ugly crying session, you managed to somewhat compose yourself again. You closed the box and placed Mister Meow Meow safely on the table. You found peace knowing that the cat was already of age and half deaf. He had a good life full of cuddles and treats,and in the morning you'd say your last goodbye. With that thought you went upstairs and changed into your pyjamas. 

Not much later Sihtric rang your doorbell, and as you opened the door, Sihtric ran back to his car.

'I hope you don't mind I brought someone,' Sihtric smiled when he walked back up to you, holding his own adorable, black cat in his arms.

'Dog!' you cried out, and started sobbing again, 'of course I don't mind,' you said and took the cat in your arms.

Dog was Sihtric's emotional support cat, and if there's anything you needed, it was emotional support.

After some strong doctor's advice, Sihtric was matched up with Dog about two years ago, after a lot of childhood trauma had spilled out during long overdue therapy sessions. Sihtric hadn't given you a lot of details, except that his trauma was caused by his father, and that it led to Sihtric having severe panic attacks when he was alone at home often. And Sihtric said he's been doing so much better ever since he got Dog. 

When Sihtric got home to feed Dog that night, before returning to you, he broke out in tears again and laid down on his kitchen floor. Dog ran up to him immediately, licking his face and jumping on his chest. And then Sihtric knew he had to bring his cat with him. Sihtric was afraid he'd freak out at night, at your place, if he started to spiral about him accidentally killing Meow Meow, but he also knew you would feel better too with Dog around.

You sat on your bed, on top of the sheets as you played with Dog, who was easily entertained while doing his job of making you, and Sihtric, feel happier and more calm. Sihtric sat back, shirtless, against your bed's headboard, and the sheets covered him from his hips down. You were too busy with Dog to glance over your shoulder, but if you had done so, you would've found Sihtric's eyes on you. 

Sihtric stared at you with his heavy-lidded and completely in love mismatched eyes. A soft smile graced his face and he felt his heart ache inside his chest. Sihtric wished he knew how to express his feelings for you, but he didn't even know if there was a way, or if there would ever be a word that could express what he felt for you.

I'm going to marry her, Sihtric thought as he looked at you. He suddenly smiled wider and lightly shook his head to himself. You only met her like two months ago, you idiot, he argued with himself. Yeah, but I love her. She's just… perfect. I can't even imagine not having her in my life anymore. Am I going too fast? He furrowed his brow. Maybe, Sihtric lightly shrugged at his inner dialogue. Okay, maybe. But… proposing doesn't mean you have to get married fast. You can be engaged for years. Sihtric nodded, that is true, he thought. And he snapped out of his thoughts when he heard your soft giggle, when Dog jumped in your lap and started purring as he headbutted his soft head against yours. Oh, fucking… gods, Sihtric exhaled sharply at the sight of you and his cat. She'll be my death regardless, the little valkyrie she is, he smiled at himself again and a soft chuckle escaped his lips.

You turned and found Sihtric smiling at himself.

'What are you up to?' you smiled.

'Hm?' Sihtric snapped out of his thoughts again, 'oh, n-nothing,' he blushed.

'Sure,' you chuckled, 'well, I think we should go to sleep. I'm exhausted,' you said and joined him under the covers.

You faced Sihtric and he snuck his arm around your waist under the blankets, pulling you a little closer against his body, and your legs tangled together. Dog settled down on Sihtric's pillow, resting his fluffy body against the top of Sihtric's head, as the cat always did when Sihtric wasn't laying down on his back. Otherwise Dog would sleep on Sihtric's chest, as the cat was trained to monitor Sihtric's breathing. If it would suddenly spike, the cat knew something was off and would distract Sihtric in any way possible. And you thought Dog was a blessing for watching over the love of your life like that.

'I… have to ask,' Sihtric spoke softly, 'do you- do you hate me? For what happened?'

'Hate y-,' you frowned, 'Sihtric,' you sighed and chuckled, 'of course I don't hate you, how can you possibly think that? It was an accident. I don't blame you, honey,' you said, 'if it was me driving, the same thing would've happened. We both didn't see Meow Meow.'

'I just feel so awful, baby,' Sihtric whispered and pressed is forehead against yours, 'I'm so fucking sorry. This is going to haunt me…'

You hushed him sweetly and cupped his cheeks.

'Stop that,' you whispered, 'there is no reason to beat yourself up over this, okay?'

Sihtric nodded as he sniffled. 'I'm sorry, love,' he said.

'And stop saying sorry,' you chuckled lightly, 'promise me you will try to let this go? I am not mad at you, I don't blame you, and you don't need to apologise. It just happened.'

Sihtric nodded again, 'I'll try,' he said and gave you a soft smile.

He caressed your cheek with his thumb and bit down on his lip as his eyes darted over your face. He hummed soft and allowed a bigger smile to tug at his lips.

'You're so damn cute. Hm, I love you,' Sihtric whispered, then realised he had said that out loud and his eyes grew wide, 'I- I mean…' he stammered.

You stared at him with big, glossy eyes, seeing Sihtric's cheeks turn a shade of red before he tried to hide his face, but you stopped him from pulling the blankets over his head.

'You love me?' you asked after a long moment of silence.

'Well,' Sihtric chuckled nervously, 'y-yeah. I....'

'I love you too,' you blurted out.

'You do?' Sihtric looked concerned.

'Of course,' you laughed shyly, 'I… I love you.'

'Okay, but… I love you more,' Sihtric smiled a little smug, and he pulled you in for a kiss.

After you both admitted to being in love with each other, there seemed to be no more stopping. You were both emotionally exhausted, but that didn't stop neither of you from whispering 'I love you' in between soft kisses and cuddles for hours on end, until you finally fell asleep. And it seemed that the more affection you showed to Sihtric, the more smothering he became, but you loved it and couldn't get enough of him.

You were glad you had been able to sleep with him that night, and with Dog, who was a much calmer sleeper than Mister Meow Meowever was, but you enjoyed his soft purring all the same. And you woke up rather early in the morning, with Sihtric next to you. You sat up and looked at him for a moment, and you smiled at the sight of the handsome firefighter in your bed, who loved you.

And you couldn't help yourself when you cuddled up to him and pressed soft kisses to his shoulder and neck, to wake him up, hoping to get some hot action.

Sihtric hummed softly and wrapped his arms around you while you continued your kisses. And the more awake and aware Sihtric became, the intenser he hummed and the bigger his smile grew.

'Hm, baby,' Sihtric husked as you pecked his neck again, 'do you know what you're starting here?'

'Mhm,' you smiled, hands moving up into his short hair, 'and I hope to finish it too.'

'Hm, fuck,' Sihtric smiled and bit down on his lip, his hands moving down to your ass.

He grabbed your hips and pulled you on top with ease, his arousal teasing you as you straddled him. You leaned in to kiss his lips, and you moved one hand down into his boxers. Sihtric's breath hitched and he hummed with a smile.

'You know what I like,' he whispered, slowly running out of breath as you worked his length with your hand.

You kept your face close to his, enjoying the expressions that twitched on his face as you pleased him. 

'You like that?' you purred.

'Fuck,' Sihtric's breathing became faster, heavier, his hands squeezing your thighs, 'need you to fuck me, babe,' he moaned, 'you make me so damn horny all the time,' he breathed heavily, 'come on, doll, let me have you.'

And just as you wanted to pull down his boxers, Sihtric's cat leaped onto his chest.

'What the-,' you blinked and sat back up.

'Fuck!' Sihtric hissed, 'not now!' he groaned and shoved the cat off, but Dog wasn't having it, and jumped back on his chest.

Then you realised the cat probably thought Sihtric was in a state of panic, as his breathing was hard, fast and heavy. And you started to laugh.

'Fucking… gods,' Sihtric sighed and chuckled, 'really, Dog? This is exactly why you sleep downstairs when she's over,' he hissed at his cat, regretting he brought him right now.

You cackled and got off Sihtric.

 'God,' you snorted, 'that's a cockblock, huh?'

Sihtric muttered and hid his face behind his hands. 

'Shit,' he said, 'I'm sorry, baby.'

'It's fine,' you laughed, 'we'll make up for this later,' you smiled and pecked his cheek, 'but Dog will stay downstairs then.'

After you both had breakfast, you carried the box with Mister Meow Meow outside as Sihtric had dug a hole. You were kinda glad that your nosy neighbours weren't able to move back into their house yet after the fire, so you could bury your cat in private, without them lurking through the window.

'You okay, love?' Sihtric asked as you lowered the box into the ground, his hand on your shoulder.

'Yeah,' you sniffled and got up from your knees.

Sihtric wrapped his arm around you, and like last night, you both stared down at the box. But this time it was closed, and in the ground.

'Thank you for everything, Meow Meow, I will always love you. I'll never forget you,' you said softly, 'you've given me so much joy and love. You were one of a kind. You were my best friend in a way too. And,' you chuckled, wiping away a tear, 'because of you I met the love of my life,' you said and looked up at Sihtric.

Sihtric smiled sweetly at you and kissed your hair when you had said your last words to Mister Meow Meow.

'And here I thought Meow Meow would one day be the death of me,' Sihtric chuckled softly and then choked up.

'I promise,' you squeezed Sihtric's waist, 'Meow Meow did this on purpose, to mess with you one last time,' you chuckled, 'he knew you were competition.'

'Smart bastard he was,' Sihtric smiled, 'he really was competition. We both wanted your heart.'

'And you boys were too foolish to know you both already had it.'

'Oh, doll,' Sihtric sighed and kissed your lips with a soft hum. 'Listen, Meow Meow,' he said and looked at the box, 'I promise I'll look after her for you and take care of her.'

A few weeks had passed since your beloved Mister Meow Meow had been buried, and Sihtric had been subtly prying if you wanted a new cat. You said you did, but not a kitten, as cute as they were. You wanted to adopt one from a shelter some time soon, as your house was rather empty without Meow Meow in it. Sihtric had stayed over with Dog most of the time, but some nights required you both to sleep apart due to your jobs, and then Dog would not be around you either. During those nights you simply realised you really needed the company of a furry friend.

And Sihtric went to a shelter behind your back some time later. He knew you loved any cat, but you had a soft spot for big fluffy cats, and Sihtric couldn't believe his eyes when he spotted a rather young, white Norwegian Forest Cat waiting to be adopted. Apparently his owner had passed away in a tragic car accident about a month ago, and Sihtric felt it was destiny. It took a few days to arrange everything, and every day Sihtric went to the shelter, without telling you, to lowkey bond with the cat. Sihtric had also stolen one of your shirts and left it with the cat, so he'd get used to your smell already and would recognise you as his new owner, while Sihtric would sort of be his owner too, as he was the one to rescue him.

About a week later Sihtric finally got the call that he could pick up the cat. The shelter had given him a brand new collar and name tag, and Sihtric couldn't wait to surprise you. But first, he made a stop at a jewellery store.

'You better not let me down, buddy,' Sihtric said to your surprise cat as he tied a little handwritten note to its collar. 

Sihtric got out of his car and carried the big box that held your new pet over to your door. He rang your doorbell and anxiously bit down on his lip, as he couldn't fidget with his rings.

'Sihtric,' you smiled, then saw the large box in his hand, 'are you finally officially moving in?' you laughed.

Sihtric's eyes grew big.

'You'd want me to move in?'

'Well… I mean… I- I wouldn't mind,' you felt your cheeks heat up, 'a-are you moving in?'

Sihtric's heart jumped out of his chest, and he shook his head to bring his attention back to the box in his hands.

'No, I mean… well, eh,' Sihtric sighed and tried to collect his thoughts, 'I have a gift for you,' he smiled.

You let him inside and wondered what on earth he was up to.

'Sit down, baby,' Sihtric said, barely able to contain his nerves as you did what he asked.

'Are you okay?'

'Fine,' Sihtric swallowed hard, 'look, so, eh… I mean… I guess it's… maybe a bit … fast. But- but if you really want me to move in-'

'I'd love that,' you smiled, 'maybe it's fast, but… everything just feels right with you. I just - I don't want to be without you anymore,' you said, and Sihtric blushed.

'I don't want to be without you anymore either,' Sihtric smiled, 'and then… eh, this… I guess this,' he looked at the box in his hands, 'this is… a… somewhat of a… moving in gift,' he chuckled.

He placed the box in front of your feet and told you to open it.

'Oh my god!' you yelled upon the sight of the adorable white cat, 'Sihtric!? What… what…' your eyes teared up right away, 'is… f…for me… mine?'

'He's yours, my love,' Sihtric said, and tried to keep his nerves in check. And he also desperately tried to not cry at your happiness.

'Oh my god!' you cried out again, 'what… when… ohh,' you cooed when the cat allowed you to pick him up with ease, and he licked your face. 'Oh my god, how cute are y- oh, what's this?' you frowned, and then read the note on his collar.

Hi, my name is Thor. I needed a new owner as I lost my previous one. I wish to keep my new mom company for as long as I live… and that handsome guy over there wishes to have my new mom's company for as long as he lives.

'Wha- I don't… Sihtric?'' you said, confused while being a crying mess.

And when you looked over at Sihtric, he got down on one knee as he held a box with a stunning ring in his slightly trembling hand up to you.

'My love,' Sihtric said, hoarsely, fighting his tears as well as a feeling of panic, and Dog ran up to him. 'You are just… everything I have ever dreamed of,' Sihtric continued, 'and every morning when I wake up without you, I am terrified that you truly were just a dream. So… I only wish to wake up next to you, every day, for the rest of my life,' he swallowed a sob and took your hand, 'baby, please,' he smiled as his tears fell down, 'will you marry me and dream with me every night, and wake up with me every morning?' 

Sihtric stared at you with big, watery eyes. And he held his breath when you stared back at him, hugging your new cat while Sihtric held your hand.

'Y-yes,' you let out a sob, 'Sihtric, of course!'

Sihtric exhaled sharp with relief and almost passed out for a second, but then managed to slip the ring around your finger and he grabbed your face, kissing you all over as you both cried.

'I love you,' Sihtric whispered, almost desperately.

'I love you more,' you sniffled, 'I never want to fall asleep or wake up without you ever again.'

'Neither do I,' Sihtric smiled as he looked down into your eyes, 'but I love you more.'

And right as Sihtric taunted you, your new fur baby, Thor, let out a loud meow as he pushed himself in between you and Sihtric. 

'Looks like you have competition again,' you sniffled and smiled.

'I'm willing to share you with them,' Sihtric chuckled as Dog started to interfere too, 'but not in the bedroom,' he said firmly as he looked at his new, put together family, 'in the bedroom, she's all mine, you guys got that?'

'Only at night, or when the door is closed,' you laughed.

'That is fair,' Sihtric agreed. He kissed your lips and then smiled cheekily, 'I kinda need you in the bedroom now,' Sihtric said, 'with the door closed.'

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[demonslayedher]

Things that went through my head while watching this episode: --"it's so nice to be able to get wrapped up in this and know about I'm about to get new content" was certainly something that went through my head by the end of the episode, but I was also reminded of how it felt a little too drawn out and over saccharine, and how the extra long length of this episode did not feel it served it fully well. I've come to be more forgiving of the excess happy fluff at the end of this season, and I will defend it as follows, but I still would have preferred they reign it in a little so we don't forget about how hard-won that battle was with how chipper and energetic everyone is.

--But you know what? They deserve it. They are functioning on the rush of relief, and it took a while for them all to gather down there on the grass. Like, it's kind of sweet that the people who first got to celebrate this victory with the Kamado siblings were a trio of swordsmiths who would have felt awful if Nezuko had to die on their accord. These weren't even swordsmiths whom Tanjiro hung out with much, but their lives were just as worthy.

--It was nice to see the group celebration expanded on a bit, but I think what got me feeling like it was overdone was seeing Mitsuri be overwhelmed with gratitude specifically on Nezuko's behalf too, since she was the one not to witness the peril Nezuko was in. I feel it was enough to have have Mitsuri be relieved on everyone's behalf, and to have her be shocked that Nezuko is there in sunlight, which is cute and funny. No need to quite rehash what Tanjiro has just momentously been through. And this is coming from some who really, really loves Mitsuri & Nezuko interaction. It would have been totally in-character to have left Mitsuri blissfully unaware of how awful Nezuko's experience was unless someone point-blank tells her that Nezuko almost didn't make it. Then the extra gratitude specifically for Nezuko would feel earned.

--And my gosh, Ufotable, you sure sold Nezuko's pain. I am still so impressed.

--I also initially did not like just how playful it is to have Nezuko and Tanjiro running away from Haganezuka, because it takes me out of how much peril they were just in. But hey, if there are two characters who are totally fine, it is Nezuko (the being the point that she is way more than fine) and Haganezuka (who will always have energy for enacting sword justice).

--But hey, besides that? Sure, it's pleasant to see them be so happily relieved. This isn't even "we defeated two Upper Moons" triumph, it's just "we're alive, Nezuko is in the sun, Muichiro remembers things, we're alive, we're alive, we're alive." Like, a littttle bit more "WHOA, THOSE WERE UPPER MOONS" like after defeating Gyutaro & Daki would have been nice.

--And like........ that whole final scene... it has its very cute points, just getting to see the swordsmiths interact more since this was their season to have some well-deserved spotlight, both for the work they do and as characters. But it played that "everyone loves Kamado Tanjiro (but he never takes the credit)" note a little too loud. Some things play more nicely with subtlety, but hey, Ufotable wanted to go out with a triumphant statement. I want to be forgiving of that, but... those villagers were busy trying to hurry out of that village. : / And I really hope that Genya, Muichiro, and Mitsuri got the same treatment, but I doubt anybody went collecting confetti each time.

--So anyway, setting those grievances aside!!

--MUZAN MONOLOGUE. Like, it was good, but it always give me flashbacks to Nomura Mansai's Muzan monologue in the Noh rendition, which was chilling. Still, this anime version was great, and I love me all those extra touches they expanded his Heian life with. Muzan isn't all that complicated of a villain. He was always spiteful human who wanted to take out his frustration by destroying other people. Then he got power, but spending half of his time on the brink of death for a thousand years is like being spit in the face. Sure, you're powerful, buddy, until somebody opens a window. And I like that Muzan is uncomplicated. It's his utter disregard for others that made him a villain in the first place, and he has never and will never change.

--And that is why one of my favorite Muzan moments ever is how he doesn't even both to pick his feet up or step around the two corpses on the floor as he exits the room. Other people really are nothing but furniture to him, and that little action--or lack of action, rather-- speaks so loudly about his character.

--Imagine how different the rest of the series would have been if Hantengu's head didn't spin in Nezuko's direction?

--Nezuko's victory over the sun deserves how much it got milked, because in the context of the series, she had in fact made the greatest achievement of any character in this series. Sure, Tanjiro has just killed Upper Moon Four, but it only took the Corp a little over a hundred years to accomplish killing an Upper Moon. Nezuko, within three years of being turned into a demon, has accomplished what Muzan has failed to do for over a thousand years. What's more, this is entirely through Nezuko's own power; there was no one who could have helped her accomplish this. Tamayo could only observe with wonder.

--Truly, Nezuko has "prioritized" this over, say, reattaining her sense of self. I see Nezuko's demon development as being a bit infantile. When she was first "born," so to speak, she was not aware of herself as an individual being, only that she hungered, and that she had just undergone some terrible loss, and that Tanjiro was all she had left. After a little sleep it got easily to process that Tanjiro was someone who she understood, and even as she started to gain some sense of self, it revolved around Tanjiro and his welfare. Listening to Urokodaki and Tanjiro as she slept, and perhaps seeing memories of her family as she dreamed probably put together something more basic, but she probably did not remember anything more than her family's faces and how deeply she cares about them. I think little by little as she started gaining more of an awareness of others as individuals and appreciating that there is more in the world she enjoys than just her brother's wellbeing, she probably gained more and more of an understanding of being someone named Nezuko and having a mission to fight demons with everyone else she has come to care about, and with, a high level of ability to understand language, but because she had the muzzle this whole time, she had no need to try to use words herself, so she didn't prioritize this either.

--I bring that all up just to say that she might have (without words) been thinking, "oh, I know what this is called. This is 'morning.' People are supposed to say something, what it is? Oh, right! Gu--gOoD mOrnNinG~"

--And then it's like, "OH, I CAN COMMUNICATE!!! THIS IS FUN!!!!! NEW POWER!!!"

--So proud of you, Nezuko

--I like that Ufotable stressed her daytime eyes still looking very inhuman. It stresses how something is still very off about her existence. Nobody is used to seeing a daytime demon. (I prefer her nighttime eyes, though.)

--But also that is such Kimetsu Logic to do a thing and then explain the thing without spoiling it. Thank you for your letter, Tamayo-san.

--Now, Tanjiro, though. You know that he's making it harder and harder to uphold Corp rules about what makes a Pillar. Haha, no, Tanjiro is no Pillar! He only cut the heads off those Twelve Moon demons because he had Pillars helping him! Haha, somehow he is still the same rank as Zenitsu and Inosuke after chopping the head off Upper Moon Four! (Zenitsu and Inosuke, what the fresh hell have you two been up to in order to match rank with Tanjiro???)

--But also, it is wicked cool how Tanjiro is just turns the Mark on now like a lightswitch, and that Ufotable switches up in the animation in a way that shows he's going at full throttle. (Meanwhile, our Marked Pillar friends looked just a little more blithe than their usual blithe selves.)

--I find it totally legit that he could suddenly use Thunder Breath, since Sun Breath is the source of all of them, so the concepts would be the same anyway.

--Those last hits Tanjiro gets in on Hantengu too, very cool. I love how many tries it takes to get that hit, too! Hantengu is full of surprises and I have come to appreciate him a lot more over the course of this rewatch. If I ever, say, get a skiddish hamster, maybe I'll name it Hante or something.

--Love the sound design on the mountain setting, especially when Muichiro calls out to Tanjiro from up on the cliff. That sounded SO GOOD in the theater.

--Also, just, a huge shout out to all of Ufotable's construction of settings. Really, really, wonderful.

--And the sounds on SUCH A REALISTIC PANIC ATTACK, and movements, right now to how Tanjiro's fingers shake. Man, way to stress me out. I sort of what to speed it all up to see how quick this all went down as Tanjiro was panicking, but the only parts that were really slowed down were watching Hantengu run. It was all so painfully slow and was all happening too fast. What an awful moment.

--and I can't wait for Tanjiro to reflect back on that when talking with Himejima

--This episode was Nezuko's biggest triumph, but at least for a few moments, it was also Tanjiro's biggest loss.

[thebelugawhalefriend]

Hii! Love your writing. Do you do any sub character content? If so could you do Sub Muzan x Fem or GN reader?

Hihi!! I'm very excited to have a first request! I actually had to go back and watch the fourth season and read his wiki page because WOW this is gonna be a DOOZY to write! I mean this is a man who has every demon praying for mercy at any cost. But, I love a good challenge, so let's get into it!

Merciful - Sub!Muzan x Demon!Fem!Reader

CW: DEMON SLAYER SPOILERS, NSFW, Gore, Death

Note: I have really only watched the anime, so anything from the manga will stump me here ^^

It was 150 years ago when you first met him.

"You BASTARD! Let him go!"

Human and feeble. So weak and small to even your own kind. A towering man stood above you with pure spite behind his green eyes. Muscular with sleek black hair tied tightly behind him. In his hands he held your little brother, ready to slit his throat with a sickle.

"What, him? I caught this boy trying to swipe from my shop! If I had half a mind, I would slice him into tiny pieces."

You were but 18, shivering and scared. Your own blade looked pointless compared to his- only being a mere dagger. And yet, you clung to it tight. This rusted piece of junk was your only chance of your brother's survival.

"I said let him go! Not just for his sake, but yours!"

"And what are YOU going to-"

With the quickness of an eagle, the blade in your hand was digging into his shoulder. You clung to this man as if you depended on him not to fall. It's then you plunge into his back. Again. Again. And again.

"Sister, stop! Stop!"

Your brother was trying to flail from the man's arms- trying to free himself from his grip. It was, however, of no use. Even with a crazed woman stabbing into his body, his sickle made quickwork of the boy's neck.

SWING!

Thud...

"BROTHER!!"

And from there, those moments were a blur. Faint images came back to remind you of your crimes. The shop owner's once proud physique now a pulverized, sad corpse. Bystanders horrified by the situation now also blood on your hands and bodies on the road. Even nearby pets ended up slaughtered by your palms. But... You wanted more. Even if you were still human, this man deserved the most painful death and afterlife you could imagine. Taking his sickle, you carved his chest wide open and ripped out his heart.

"Now wait, young one. Wouldn't you want eating him to matter more?"

Now this man... He gave off a completely different feel than the man who'd killed your brother. Despite a similar look, he held ruby red eyes that peered right through you. You pause for a moment with the heart in hand.

"And just who are you?"

"Such raw emotion and strength... And yet still so weak. You couldn't even save your brother, and here you are, eating a man's heart just for your body to waste it."

"You don't know me! I'll-"

With a finger to your mouth, your body freezes.

"Hush. I'm here to help, just for a small price. I can tell you'll be of great use..."

---

"Lord Muzan~"

You call from one of the halls, flashing this man a daring look. From the moment he met you, you would never let this man have the respect he's earned. Even the Kizuki tremble in fear just uttering the wrong word to him, and yet for you? He would tolerate just enough teasing to let you have fun.

"Now of all times, ____? Can't you see I'm busy?"

His tone is cold, but your glare is chilling.

"Ten months, Muzan. You've left me wasting away for ten months! I understand tending to your other wives and taking care of those demon slayers, but ten months?"

His silence speaks volumes... But you? You've never realized the pure fear that comes with messing with Muzan. He's never put you in your place, and maybe... Maybe a twisted part of him likes that. You remind him of the authority he only had when he was human. No one could command or demand anything. Except... You.

"Come with me, Muzan... Please, just spend one night with me..."

Those (color) eyes you give him... His glare simmers down into a rare soft gaze, backing away from his desk to approach you.

"You're the most fortunate woman alive, ___. Any other would fall to their knees if they spoke to me that way."

"That sounds like a yes to me."

---

For every rough move Muzan would make, you were twice as bad. The poor lord of demons was pinned by the hands while you rode his cock for everything it was worth. Your fangs were oh so close to his neck, and yet Muzan was only encouraging that you bite him. Just one move and he could pulverize you. End your life over your own rush for power. And yet, you were headstrong and uncaring. His breathing was quivering and shaky, eyes of blood red looking up to yours with a submissive lust.

"Like that, dear- Fuck! Like that!"

You could barely focus on his blissfully soft voice. The most powerful man to exist and yet he's under you... Your fangs sink right into his neck yet stay absolutely careful not to drop an ounce of blood. After all, wasting anything precious of his was a death sentence. When his hands shift under yours, you let them go to see what he does.

"Don't be shy now... I know you want more..."

His voice is so quiet and soothing that your focus slips for just a moment, just enough time for him to grip your sides and push you down on him. Keeping you absolutely still. Is this a trick? Some sort of act? You sit up for a moment to look down, seeing him with a playful smile.

"Muzan... Are you sure you want to toy with me?"

One of his hands slip down to tease you as his member sits inside. Pulsing and needing more despite his cool demeanor.

"I want to see that fire I know you have. I let you take over too easily this time... Prove you're worthy to actually let me finish inside of you, ___."

Before the blink of an eye, your claws are quick to dig into his own sides in an attempt to keep going. And yet, one of his hands keeps you still.

"I know you have it in you. I can see that frustration in your eyes, dear."

Oh, you have a plan alright. While your hands worked to mess with his body and neck, your legs were building up strength to keep things going. Just a little longer... One of your claws lunges for his neck, Muzan quick to catch it with the hand that was teasing you.

"Too eas-"

While he was only slightly distracted by your lunge, the sheer force of your legs resumed the session despite Muzan's grip. The free hand practically pouncing to hold his chest down while your speed threatened to break the bed. Once playful eyes now looked to you in awe as he twitched and let out just the tiniest of pathetic whimpers.

"Don't you toy with me, Muzan. I know you like this too much to stop me!"

He really couldn't hold back. Just mere seconds pass before ropes of his semen come through and fill your insides. Yet, your body is absolutely sure not to let a single drop seep from your womb. You can't go wasting even his cum, now can you? Shocked red eyes look up to you, now with a renewed sense of pride.

"Y-you're so damn lucky I'm merciful towards you..."

[beyondmistland]

I read through all your posts about Alysanne Targaryen as Maegor's daughter and am now in a rabbit hole. Thank you. I've been thinking about Maegor's wives and which one of Henry VIII's wives they represent. Ceryse is Cathrine of Aragon and Alys is Anne Boleyn. The others are hard to pin for me since there isn't a lot. What do you think? Would Maegor's reign have been more interesting if his marriages had more similarities to those of Henry VIII?

I think this is where we run into a number of problems regarding the way GRRM wrote Fire & Blood specifically and the way he setup Westeros more generally.

For one, the fairly homogenized nature of southron culture as well as the oversimplification of religious institutions and history means you can't quite get the same dynamism as from real life European history, with its dizzying array of languages, cultures, cuisines, fashions, etc., to mention nothing of the then-ongoing Protestant Reformation. I suppose GRRM could have had Maegor convert to the Old Gods a la Julian (II) the Apostate or the Drowned God (you just know the Ironborn are the one race on the surface of Planetos that would say King Maegor the Good with a completely straight face) or even R'hllor, which would be the best choice in terms of worldbuilding opportunities in my opinion.

Moving on, we run into a handful of problems with Maegor specifically, one of them being the length of his reign. Look, while I can't deny Maegor ruling for 6 years and 66 days is incredibly cheeky, it also isn't anywhere close to Henry VIII's 36 years as king. With so little room timeline-wise, there isn't a lot of flexibility when it comes to telling new stories and fleshing out preexisting ones and all that is before you factor in Maegor himself.

I won't hold back. For all GRRM's talk of moral ambiguity, the human heart in conflict with itself, good men who were bad kings and bad men who were good kings, etc., his Targaryen monarchs are, for the most part, numbingly one-note. Aegon I is a literal enigma, Aenys is weak, Maegor cruel, Viserys I a party animal, Aegon II and Rhaenyra mirror-images of each other in their disqualifying vices, etc. As I've written before with my post reimagining Maegor as more of a Ivan (IV) the Terrible figure there was room to make him a genuinely controversial figure of historiography but instead GRRM doubled down on sensationalism and apathy-inducing slasher porn for lack of a better word. The fact Maegor is also the first and last of Visenya's line just adds more salt to the wound but that's part of GRRM's more general (and for me personally, vexing) habit of keeping family trees incredibly small.

(I do recall another alternative someone once brought up to the late Steven Attewell. Namely, turning Maegor into the Westerosi version of Macbeth by way of Der Untergang.)

This brings me to my semifinal point. GRRM didn't have to write Fire & Blood as Procopius' Secret History on steroids with a dash of Suetonius' Lives of Twelve Caesars and I, Claudius (the entire Saera episode is practically lifted wholesale from the scandal that envelops Augustus' daughter, Julia) but he did, which is doubly disappointing because not only does the final product suck quality-wise as a result but also because there were so many other avenues available to him.

He could have written Fire & Blood as a proper history (with less focus on the sex lives of teenage girls for one) or as a mirror for princes or as a dialogue between two characters or even as a character study. You can even see GRRM struggling with the constraints imposed by his use of Gyldayn in certain sections like the death of Maelor and the entire Hour of the Wolf episode, where you get reams of dialogue and characterization as well as more traditional narrative trappings like build-up, mood setting, etc.

Now, to answer your actual question (lol), I don't think any of Henry VIII's other wives map well onto Maegor's. Tyanna is, more or less, his female counterpart in terms of cruelty and zero redeeming features and entirely a fantasy construct. Elinor and Jeyne are both married to Maegor for only a year (with poor Jeyne dying in childbirth because Jeyne Westerlings, like the Brackens, Peakes, and Florents, cannot catch a break in Westeros) and before said marriage takes place neither appears on the page. As for Rhaena, well, credit where its due, she was a rare (and unexpected) highlight of Fire & Blood.

Thanks for the question, anon

[edbloves]

https://www.tumblr.com/edbloves/754938770487476224/consumed-by-thoughts-of-post-war-bucky-and-buck

Is there any chance we can have more of this 🥹🥹

Hi Anon!!

You absolutely can, let's see if I can cook something up for you, darling! These have been the head cannons bouncing around in my head the last few days so here you go:

After doing a little bit of math, I've decided that John's daughter would be around three (for pregnancy, stalag and post-war timing reasons)

John honestly doesn't remember her mother, and feels horribly guilty for it. He has vague memories of a drunken night in the Bristish bars with a Red Cross girl where both of them were mutually using the other to try to forget the war, but he knows nothing about her and barely remembers what she looks like. And to be honest, there were numerous instances of those, with numerous women

John, being the more charismatic of the two, relates better to her, though he is petrified that he's going to mess up and screw up her life (i.e. he's very aware that he drinks too much and smokes too much)

Gale is more nervous around her, never grew up with siblings and never knew anyone with kids her age and is terrified he's going to disappoint her or unknowingly start acting like his father. But once she starts to get more comfortable with them, he realizes that she's just a mini John and he falls even more in love with her

She LOVES Meatball (whom Demarco gave to Buck because Florida is not the place for a husky) and Meatball loves her back, they spend evenings with Meatball curled around her small frame and her tiny hands scrunched in his fur. Honestly, he's kind of like a therapy dog/emotional support animal for her after her mother's death and transition into John and Gale's life

All three of them get nightmares, John and Gale's about the war and her's about her mother dying, and later, about Buck and Bucky dying so it isn't uncommon for them to be up in the middle of the night all together

On that note, Gale keeps the fridge stocked with each other their favourite ice cream flavours (vanilla for him, chocolate for her and Bucky) and on warm nights where the nightmares wake them up, they'll all pile into the truck in their pyjamas and head out where there are views of the whole city and they'll curl up in the bed of the truck wrapped up and snuggled in blankets with Buck pointing out constellations and Bucky explaining that the sky is where he and Buck used fly

When she calls Bucky Daddy for the first time, he's calm about it with her but he completely loses it afterwards to Gale, emotionally overwhelmed and touched by her trust and love

On her second night with them, Gale is awake in the middle of the night thinking and spiralling and trying make mental tallies of all the things he has to do and learn and help her with and holy shit he's so unprepared and what are they going to do with a child, let alone a girl?? So he climbs out of bed and unthinking of the late hour, phones Marge and asks her how she does her hair. And lovely Marge is like WTF Gale? So Gale explains, says Bucky has a kid so I guess I have a kid now, too.

She has them instantaneously wrapped around her finger and they literally struggle so hard to say no to her ("You tell her she can't do that, John." "Why me? You tell her!" "I don't want her to be upset with me!" "You think I do?!") Good cop, bad cop is literally impossible to do with them, and Gale can't stomach it anyways, not with how his father was

They overload her with toys and clothes and sweets, particularly Gale, trying to come out from underneath the shadow of his own father and frets constantly that she doesn't know they love her

John is the one typically taking her out to do lots of activities, he signs her up for ballet and teaches her baseball as she grows up, puts her on the horses and on a bike probably too-early but Gale can't find it in himself to complain when John's smile is plastered all over her little face

Gale takes her with him EVERYWHERE, and not in the way his Dad took him (like it was a forced thing, like he was a nuisance he had to look after) but because Gale literally just wants to spend time with her all the time. He enjoys talking to her and getting her books to read as she learns her ABCs and hearing her three-year-old (sometimes strange) opinions on things, and having her accompany him to the grocery store and the post-office

Marge begs to babysit and she has to be damn convincing to get them to give her their daughter for a night

That's all I got for now! Hope you enjoy :) We'll see if I come up with more, then I might make it into a multi chapter fic if enough people are interested!

[pandasmagorica]

Even more pre-ep-8 thoughts (Sun Sept 8)

4 Minutes is taking up way too much of my brain space.

I'm fully expecting the ending to depend on what happens in the 4:00 room.

So much of the tragedy of this series is because of people acting on incomplete info.

Tyme doesn't know that Warit is the one who killed his parents or had them killed. Yes, Great's dad didn't do anything to stop Warit, but Warit is the one who acted.

Tonkla doesn't know - or does he? I know Win knows that Title's fingerprints are on the rock that killed Dome, but I can't remember if Win told him - that Great was an under duress bystander/after the fact accessory, so he shoots Great too. Actually, Tonkla is sufficiently deranged that he might have shot Great anyway.

Update: Tonkla's Timeline in ep 1-7 confirms Win did tell Tonkla that Title killed Dome. (This is a great work of scholarship by the way and I recommend you read it.)

Tonkla makes me think of Light Yagami in Death Note. He starts by supernaturally killing people who are known criminals who have gotten insufficient justice and winds up killing anyone who is in his way. I watched the anime series and it's a great watch. Not QL, although I'd bet there's Light/L (his nemisis) fanfic. (Can't verify. AO3 doesn't seem to provide a search by slash pairings and I'm getting way too many irrelevant results. Some of the results are tagged for noncon, so I guess some of them do have sex in them.)

But I digress.

I'm starting to accept the argument that episodes 1-5 are a mix of real events and redo events. I'm still in the camp that the nonreality parts of 1-5 are not solely Great's four minute fever dream.

I'm thinking specifically of Great's dad's dinner with Tyme's grandmother, which happens in the redo timeline only. While Great may subconsciously remember that his parents and Tyme's parents knew each other, he probably would not know that Great's parents knew Tyme's grandma. So I don't know how Great would come up with that.

By the way, after searching the interwebs, apparently Great's dad's reference to the "three realms" with regard to granny's homey cooking is a reference to Heaven, Earth, and Hell. I'm not Thai so I don't know whether that would be an odd thing to say in real life.

We still don't know what Manee was doing in that tunnel. Did she jump or was she pushed?

Want to bet Warit has Great's parents and Korn killed because Warit wants 100% control over the gambling operation? or kills Great's parents and forces Korn to marry Fasai and makes it clear Korn's continued life is dependent on Korn's cooperation.

Finally (for the moment), why did Title rope Great into being a witness and accessory for Dome's killing in the first place? Possibilities:

He's an egomaniac and wants to show off

It was too much work getting Dome into the trunk of his car and he's lazy

He wants the option of framing Great if things go wrong

I'm thinking the last one.

And just now remembering, a friend of mine reported having an out of body experience as a child immediately after a car crash that killed their father but which they survived. So this series is even more fascinating for me on a personal level.

[seekers-who-are-lovers]

Wakamiya, Yukiya and the lady ravens

So far, I’d like to commend the series composition writer Yukiko Yamamuro for reinterpreting Chisato Abe’s novel and patching up the first two volumes of the book series (and the others maybe) into one cohesive narrative while altering some things to make it more comprehensible.

If you haven’t seen the 12th episode, beware of spoilers from here on:

Yukiya

In the manga, he only showed up when Wakamiya asked him to assist him on how to demonstrate the utility of the Ue, their raven suit, concerning Samomo’s death. (Of course, it is given that he might just be in the background the whole time.) While in the anime, he’s become the stand-in for Hamayu. The writer altered the dialogue and scenes to fit to Yukiya, a sort of Jiminy Cricket to Wakamiya. His assistant through and through.

The barriers

Instead of setting up a screen between the Prince and the princesses, Anime*Wakamiya has once again broken the protocol that he can see them and talk to them without the bamboo curtains. (He is allowed to break the rules, but the candidates cannot.)

Shiratama

Honestly, this is the most heartwarming scene in the 12th episode. It is not a big smile, but Wakamiya has done so, perhaps relieved, seeing that Shiratama has finally listened to her heart, while Yukiya is beaming watching his cousin reunited with her lover Kazumi. The bluffing has worked, even though Yukiya thinks it is an overkill while Wakamiya insists they haven’t done the deed yet. Anyway, he has done the scrutiny with so much care and respect. He was not as brutal as in the manga where calling her out was actually a push for her to think of her own mind.

He is exercising his right to be a just ruler here, which he at first was not so sure of how would it turn out.

Yukiya: What are you trying to get out of this choice?

Wakamiya: I wonder. Heaven knows how this will go.

But in the end, he’s begun to weigh both sides, give advices, tell it what it is, and encourage Shiratama and Masuho no Susuki to see what are their other opportunities other than marrying him.

It is true that he also doesn’t have a good opinion on Sakura Blossom Palace due to what transpired and/or is transpiring there. For him it stands for prison, of human follies, a snake pit, of the way humans drag each other down to the point of wishing the other harm, powerful men using young women as mere tools to advance power and influence. He knows it because his own mother had been one.

From the novel:

The wind was fluttering the young master's black hair. His face was white in the moonlight. A handsome, unpleasant person. But affectionate. Yukiya looked at the prince for a long time and spoke cautiously a little later.

“I know that my words will sound cowardly now. But Shiratama from the North House is my cousin... When I found out that Your Highness cares about the hearts of the daughters of the four houses, I felt lighter in my heart. After all, you don't consider them as tools in the political struggle.”

He's wilful, no doubt. Sharp, often misunderstood. But being with him turned out to be not bad at all.

(Note: this isn’t an official EN translation)

Masuho no Susuki

Because they changed so much from the manga, I guess we have to wait what will happen in the upcoming episodes concerning Masuho no Susuki.

(In the novel, she wrote to Wakamiya to personally come to the Sakura Blossom Palace, asked Sumio to find Hamayū and when he did Masuho kept her in her entourage secretly.)

The way Wakamiya asks the candidates if they can foresee a future with him as his empress is devoid of romanticism. He doesn’t mince words nor let them expect heaven when it is not.

One gets the impression that he really doesn’t want to get married. It is just a stupid rule that he must have a consort when he ascends the throne.

Did I say that I love Masuho’s hairstyle? Yes, I do!

Asebi

It is amusing to read the shocked comments from the Team Asebi fans. (Sorry!) The Girl has fooled many with her demure and innocent, yet naive, face.

From Asebi’s VA, Rina Honnizumi:

Asebi is very lovely, and it makes you think, “This kind of child is called a princess,” and has a charm that makes you want to protect her. But when I auditioned, I read the original work and said, “I see, this kind of girl!” The way she looks is quite different at the beginning and at the end.

Many people still don’t want to believe that she is not what everyone thinks she is. Behind this face is a wily young woman ready to crush everyone who is on her way. And we all thought it was Shiratama.

On the other hand, her half sister, Futaba, has entered the list of characters officially. Poor girl, who suffered in the hands of her own sister.

The way Asebi answers Wakamiya, “no matter what the cost,” her cunningness, and her clear discrimination between the court ravens and hill ravens, you cannot simply excuse her ignorance. Neither Wakamiya. He hates her from the bottom of his heart. We will find out more next week the reasons he does. And it seems that it is ominous as the sound director posted on X that they “deliberately left out the music for the preview of the next episode.”

Hamayu

I am curious how will they reintroduce her to the story. Are they preparing for her mini-arc? Will they follow the novel/manga but with a different twist?

The fluttering cherry blossoms

They symbolise two different things and always in tune with the music. They can be flying softly, dancing around the characters (a positive realisation) or hitting them harshly when the wind blows (signals danger, distress).

What a nice touch.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Dorothy Must Die!Lion x Scarecrow'sFemAssistant!Reader || Drabble

Plot: What it's like catching the fearsome Lion's attention, becoming his favourite, but also falling under the protection of his good friend.

Warnings: Threatening confession.

*picture there so y'all can see HOW HUGE THIS FUCKEN LION IS- and I assume this picture is from BEFORE he grew big and terrifying.

"And this... "Your boss, Scarecrow, sounds bored as he waives a gloved and straw-filled hand the animal's way, after introducing the Tin Man. "this is my old friend Lion, of course."

Obviously you knew who both of these men (Creatures??) were; you've been appointed the Scarecrow's research assistant for good reason afterall. You knew everything you could learn, and that certainly involved Oz history- in which your new boss, the Tin Man, and the Cowardly (Or not-so-cowardly, any longer) Lion were main figures.

But you let the Scarecrow tell you anyway. Because you're smart, and you know- a man like that? Needs the validation of sharing information others may not be aware of. And you would rather not get on the viscious scientists bad side boss or not.

You give both the Tin Man and the Lion a solemn, respectful nod. "Illuminating to make your acquaintances. I've heard all about your bravery in killing the Wicked Witch of the West by Queen Dorothy's side."

The Tin Man nods respectfully and sensibly back, and he's about to say something as his old metal mouth squeaks open- but the Lion, who's the same height as his two friends on all-fours, cuts in; approaching you and flashing a huge toothy smile down. "Oh, Scare old friend! Where have you been hiding this one?" The Tin Man promptly closes his mouth, a note or irritation in his metal squeal this time, you think. "She's pretty! You're pretty, young lady."

-immediately you go bug-eyed. What?? WHAT?? You're used to the Scarecrow's sensible, monotonous, borderline rude ways; this straight forward compliment is completely foreign to you. Though, you're sure you shouldn't be surprised by his boldness. The Lion is an animal, and animals don't play with subtlty, or pretending. And he is known for his courage these days, you suppose.

"U- um, I- "

"And she smells delicious."

"Wh- "

The Scarecrow cuts you off, with a sigh. "Leave her be, Lion. You're flustering her and I have no use for an emotional research assistant."

"I'm flustering her?" The Lion asks, looking at you with a stern, puzzled look on his face. With a roll of his giant muscled shoulders, he backs up a step. "My apologies."

"No- I- that's okay." You manage, then take a deep breath. "I... take no offence."

Another broad, leonine grin spreads across the big cats maw again. "Oh." Is there a wild, roguish lilt to his grin? Almost a smirk? "Good." He tells you bluntly in that deep voice sounding something like a roar, tail swishing behind him.

~

A few days later, it's the first time you've been allowed a break from thr Scarecrow's dark room's and the smell of death that fills them other then for meals. The Scarecrow wanted to be left alone, so he sent you to do some reading on cerebrospila fluids, and you chose to do so out in the courtyards. In the bright sun, surrounded by the emerald palaces beautiful gardens.

The Lion seemed to have had the same idea, covering a good portion of cobblestones with his large body sprawled lazily out under the warm ray's; dozing. And you keep sneaking glances at him like some silly girl- allowing your mind to skew from your duties and half admire the monster's muscles as well as half wonder to yourself what he meant by saying that you smell 'delicious'.

Does he want to eat you?? You've heard about his enormous, insatiable hunger, as well as how he enjoys his meals to be alive when he eats them. That doesn't sound particularly good, to you.

But... he also called you pretty. And that's throwing you off.

Before too long, you've only been sitting outside for no longer than 10 minutes, the Lion's deep echoing voice fills your eyes like molasses.

A crackly purr like growling sound escapes from deep in his chest as he stretches a little, muscles rippling under his skin, and his eyes gaze over at you half-lidded. "Nice day, isn't it?"

"Very nice."

"Come over here, pretty assistant."

You don't have a choice, it's the Lion (The King of the Beasts), and besides if you did try to run he could pounce and catch you in no time at all- so you do the smart thing, and close your book and wander over. When the enormous beast just looks at you, his maw pulling wider in a lazy grin, before nodding with his giant head to a spot next to him, you carefully sit down on the cobblestones with him.

After a moment of the Lion just looking at you, either like you're a prime steak or a masterpiece (maybe both), you take a deep breath. "Are you going to eat me??"

"... I want to. I like you quite a bit; you're pretty. If I could I would keep you and nibble off you for as long as I could- days, weeks, months, even years if you were strong enough. And the Scarecrow would just keep replacing your limbs one by one. You could be my favourite." He allows, looking pleased and impressed by your bravery, a roguish and wild lilt to his gorey, sharp smirk. "... but you're my dear old friend's help, and I wouldn't like to put him on the spot like that."

"... oh."

"Scared, little kitten?"

"I- "

"You shouldn't be." He sighs, adjusting his massive paws in front of him and making himself more comfortable. "Trust me, I spent far too long being a coward and fortune favours the brave. I'm King of the Beasts, now."

... "You have a point." You nod, speaking quietly.

"I do."

"Well... I- I should go." You curse yourself for stuttering, for you're still scared, but the Lion looks reproachfully at you. "The Scarecrow will be expecting me- "

Before you can even move, the Lion leans over and drops his heavy head on your lap with a thud; his snout nuzzling into your hip bone. He gives a content yawn, sounding more like a gentle roar thick with sleepiness. "Not yet... "

That makes your eyes widen wide open and heat fill up your chest, and your neck, and your cheeks. "But- I thought- I thought you didn't wish inconvenience the Scarecrow??"

"He can wait for a little while, pretty Y/N. I need you, now."