#not that it couldn't still be true. I just think that the evidence we PRESENTLY have does not remotely indicate that

[inversionimpulse]

"Neither Walking Wake, nor Raging Bolt, nor Iron Leaves, nor Iron Crown, resembles the Imaginary Pokemon in any way other than the absolute most superficial."

"Somehow this definitively proves my headcanon that all of the Paradox Pokemon are actually Heath's imagination brought to life and not real-but-displaced creatures that inspired his writings!"

[kiame-sama]

Do you think we can get a pt 2 to the yandere Lilia fic? I am honestly so starved for Lilia content and that one made me laugh really hard :)))

What Are You, Twelve? (Yan!Lilia x Reader) Pt 2.

(Part of what makes this funnier for me is the fact that Lilia is taller than me, but because he ACTS so mischievous and young it is easy to still assume he is a child despite his height)

Warnings; reader is 18+ but believes Lilia to be 12, the power of disbelief is unending, yandere behavior, Lilia refuses to quit, yandere temper, lilia is a patient yandere but his patience wears thin,

*Magi-shop; what I think Photoshop would be called in Twisted Wonderland

~~~~~~~~

You'll have to believe him now. Surely you couldn't continue to believe he was a child with all the evidence presented to you. He would get over the laughter from the others soon enough so long as he could get the one he craved in his grasp. There were many things the old Fae planned to do with the object of his affections and obsessions once he got his hands on you, but for now he needed you to understand him completely.

He knew you may try to reject him more harshly when you finally understand his true age, but he planned to deal with that when it came. Still, Lilia would have you one way or another and soon enough that frustratingly persistent laughter would end. Every time he tried to proposition you for a quick tryst with him, you rejected him with another quip about his assumed age and another bout of snickering would erupt from around him. That laughter wasn't going to keep up when he finally had you wrapped around his arm.

Lilia could deal with many things, from other students teasing him and his endless struggle for affection, even to the little names other students gave him. He would be lying if he said he didn't react violently to the teasing of Floyd recently, the miniscule name the eel appointed to Lilia pushing his temper just a bit too far. Still, just one face punched versus the slaughter Lilia could enact was quite good all things considered.

Silver had obeyed Lilia's request and showed you an entire photo album of his infancy despite his absolute embarrassment with the situation. He was dubious about helping his father hook-up with one of his classmates, but he did want his father to be happy in life and you certainly made Lilia happy. You hadn't shown any facial reaction to the photos so Lilia had hope you believed Silver, but his hopes were dashed as you let out an unimpressed sigh.

"Magi-shop* exists in Twisted Wonderland, you could have just edited the photos and printed them out. I refuse to be tricked by all this."

You couldn't possibly be serious- okay, he was going to have to try another avenue.

Lilia had tried many things to convince you. From pontificating and showing off his vast historical knowledge in Trein's class- which he conveniently shared with you- to flaunting his prowess in potions. He technically was in other classes, but he decided to just join you for your classes and the teachers exasperatedly allowed it. That in no way meant any of the staff would help Lilia in his endless cause to convince you. He already tried those avenues and got scolded promptly by the teachers about being his age and pursuing a bright young student. Sure, you were an adult by human standards, but so was Leona, and Vil, and Cater, and Malleus. Wasn't he a student too, technically?

If anything, your assumption of his age was the only hang-up he could see getting in the way of establishing a relationship with you. He was hoping that as soon as he got you to understand, you would be willing to move forward in a relationship with him. Lilia was willing to put you under the effects of a love potion or one of his own spells if you insisted on arguing with him even after he got you to understand. The more you tried to distance yourself from the elder Fae, the more he craved your attention and presence.

It was currently a matter of pride for him to make you understand his age before he finally got to have you. He could just slip you a love potion and be done with it, but he needed you to understand just what kind of creature you have gained the attention of. As innocent to the cruelty of the world as you were, Lilia needed you to know the full gravity of having an elder Fae interested in you. Children of man didn't often gain the affections of a fae such as himself, so he wanted you to realize how special you were to get his attention the way that you did.

"Father, they didn't believe me."

"Of course they didn't. My sweet (y/n), such a stubborn child of man. I'll have those thighs smothering me soon enough."

"... I don't wish to hear these things, Father."

[arscorpii]

episode 12 / episode 34

episode 12 / episode 37

there were several similarities i noted between the two episodes (12 and 34):

within the specific scenes: both touga and akio reached out and touched utena's left hand with their left hands, but touga covered her hand with his, while akio took her hand into his. in episode 12, utena and touga were accompanied by anthy and wakaba (during the day, out in the open cafeteria), while in episode 34, utena and akio were alone in akio's room (during the night); anthy was aware of it, but she was in her and utena's room and couldn't do much about the matter. anthy also couldn't do much for utena in episode 12 due to the rules of the rose seal (she was engaged to touga). also, the two scenes in episodes 12 and 34 took place after very tragic incidents happened to utena: losing the duel to touga, and consequently, losing anthy as her rose bride versus akio raping her (unarguably even more tragic).

correlation with utena's sense of self: in episode 12, utena tried (and succeeded) to take back who she was via a rematch (losing to touga made her doubt who she was as a person). who utena was as a person at this point may be referring to the role of a prince that she was able to truly embody due to her engagement to the rose bride (e.g., utena saving anthy in episode 3 from anthy's dress incident and then dancing together, utena saving anthy who was trapped in a coffin in episode 9). or, more like how the engagement with the rose bride allowed utena to be more/most like herself, one of which would be largely comprised of the princely ideals she adopted/learned and idealised (as told in her monologue of meeting the prince; utena also said she wanted to be a noble prince who saves princesses in episode 1) (i'm not sure for this part).

in episode 34, we learned the real reason utena had the rose crest ring, the real reason utena wanted to become a prince: to save a little girl suffering a fate worse than death. ultimately, in both situations (episodes 12 and 34), anthy influenced utena's sense of self, to an extent. regarding the prince, taking into account the context of episode 11, i'm quite sure utena still believed that touga was her prince in episode 12. meanwhile, episode 34 gave us (more) indisputable confirmation that akio was the prince that utena met in her past (this fact was heavily hinted at since episode 25). however, i don't think utena made the connection yet at that point. nevertheless, as a whole, in both situations, touga and akio were framed as utena's prince (to utena [episode 12] versus to the audience [episode 34]).

a common conflict/theme underlying both scenes was the pressure of conforming to ideal gender identities and presentations. this was evident in the scene with touga (complimenting utena's girl uniform and asking her out). however, it's infinitely more severe with akio because he was actively grooming utena to that end; some events of this episode were just parts of the long process (in the specific scene: asking if they're friends, mentioning that she didn't take off her ring "that night," trying to kiss her). in addition, the visuals of both touga and akio somewhat covering utena's rose crest ring with their hand gestures could be seen as analogous to them trying to suppress/diminish her princely ideals/role (touga said that losing the duel gave utena a chance at being a normal girl; he then actively tried persuading utena to this end, i.e., the compliment on the uniform and the ask for a date. moreover, touga critised utena for not knowing about the true power of the rose bride when she "fancied herself as anthy's prince." also, to reiterate: akio brought up the fact that utena didn't take off her ring when he raped her while stroking the ring; he expected that that event would be sufficient for utena to take it off [give up the role of the prince]).

i think episode 12 is an interesting foreshadowing/parallelism of some kind for later events in the final arc, with regard to utena/touga/anthy and utena/akio/anthy dynamics.

[melminli]

𝗢𝗰𝗲𝗮𝗻 𝗘𝘆𝗲𝘀 - 𝟬𝟭

pairing: neuvilette x fem. reader

summery - fontaine was known for being the nation of the element hydro as well as the nation of justice. however, the people were known for their love of gossip. though, sometimes rumors turn out to be true, don't they?

word count: 1.5k

content: lawyer reader, lots of fluff, crack, romance, akward reader + neuvilette

series masterlist

Fontaine. The nation under the supervision of the Hydro Archon as well as the element Hydro itself. With its many waterfalls, wide seas, and many bodies of water, its aquatic space is widely embellished. Of course, this is not a big surprise, and yet the brilliant landscape never ceases to amaze new and old visitors and residents alike.

"Mademoiselle Rivière, please excuse me for disturbing you during your break, but the reports you requested have finally arrived," a soft female voice woke you up.

You slowly sat up and rubbed the sleep from your eyes. Even when you just wanted to lean back on the couch in your office for a while, you couldn't seem to get any rest. You had to get to work when it was calling, and it always did. A healthy work-life balance was something unknown to you. "Don't worry, Marie, thank you for your work." You mumbled sleepily and reached for the file your assistant had brought you.

As you went through the pages, she looked at you a little worried. Even after all the years she had known you and worked under you, she couldn't stop frowning at your workaholic lifestyle. "Have you pulled an all-nighter again? How many days have you been here? You haven't forgotten to eat again, have you?"

Your eyes were fixed on the paper so that you could decipher the information inside as quickly as possible. "I'm fine, don't worry, really. I just don't have any time to waste since I have to be at the Opera Epiclese the day after tomorrow, and the defense isn't going to build itself."

Marie just sighed and made a mental note to order something to eat as soon as she left the room. "I'll get you something to drink. Who knows when you last got any time to do that." She said hopelessly and interrupted you before you could interject. "And I'll get water and nothing else!"

You didn't dare to say anything else to that. So, no coffee for me then. Maybe it's better this way. It would be a bit embarrassing to dehydrate in Fontaine. You leaned back in your chair and looked out of the window for a while, just watching the water surrounding the city for a bit. "Maybe I really should take a break. It's been a long time since I've been to the beach..." You continued to think, "...or even just the shore for a bit."

You sighed once and stretched a little to clear your head and get back to work. After all, you still had some preparation to do since Fontaine was not only the land of the element Hydro but also the land of justice. You were confronted with this not only as a citizen of this nation but, above all, as a lawyer. The best in town.

The case you were currently working on was about the unjust firing of your client from the Fonta development team. You had gathered the necessary evidence and testimonies, which was the lesser of two evils. The thing you still weren't really sure about yet...was how you wanted to present your case.

This was the Opera Epiclese we were talking about. Of course, everything was decided by the presentation. Getting the audience on your side was a must because only when you've kept them satisfied with a spectacle can you achieve great success. Simply bringing the truth to light was not enough in this country. Justice and reputation were very closely linked, and in order to keep your face, you not only had to be right, you also had to entertain. This made it possible for the result to have an effect. For making a change in the right direction, which people would remember.

You hated the system. Some days more and some days less since the need to entertain usually meant gossip, which in turn diminished the seriousness needed in court. As a lawyer, you were, of course, part of this, but you know the saying, hate the game and not the player. You did your best to bring justice, and your morals were not related to recognition or anything else. That's all that mattered for now.

Now that I've been thinking about Fonta so much, I feel like drinking it. Maybe Marie will let me have a bottle since there's no caffeine in it.

Quite a while later...

"I'm completely exhausted..." You sighed and could hardly wait to sleep in your own bed again. As much as you love Palais Mermonia, you really should spend less time there and your office. The world always felt so small when you spent so much time in the same four walls, and then as soon as you stepped out of them, the world suddenly seemed bigger than ever.

Though you missed your home, you didn't want to go from one room to the other. That's probably why your feet almost automatically carried you in the direction of Vasari Passage. You loved walking past the many stores and greeted the owners and various other people on your stroll. Your destination, however, was in the middle of the plaza because one of your favorite things to do in the city, was to sit near the fountain and simply watch the endlessly spinning mechanisms of the sphere.

Lost in thought, the scream of a certain nickname confused you greatly at first. "If it isn't the Ice Queen of Court herself! Today must be my lucky day!"

You turned to the voice only to see a certain reporter. She really won't stop calling me that, will she? I noticed that some other people started to do it, too. The cryo vision dangling off your outfit made it sound a bit cliché in your opinion. "Ah, it's you, Mademoiselle Charlotte. I didn't expect to find you here at this hour." You admitted.

She had a big smile on her face. "Well, I did! Rumor has it that you're usually here in the evening, so I sometimes come by when I have time, hoping for a little chat with the most famous lawyer in Fontain." She said without any shame and already had her pen and paper ready. "We never get to see you except in court, and getting appointments is super difficult. So, I thought I'd give this a try."

You couldn't help but smile slightly in disbelief at her efforts. "I see. So you switched to stalking after you ran out of your more professional resources."

"Guilty!" She exclaimed, and you raised an eyebrow at the circumstances. When Charlotte realized the context of the situation, she quickly corrected herself. "I mean, I'm just kidding! Please don't get me wrong, I would never resort to foul means for my work, really!" She suddenly clarified very nervously.

You reassured her. "I'm always up for a bit of humor, and I would also say that we're not complete strangers, so it's not a problem." You assured her. "But I would advise you to be a little more careful with the way you get people excited about your work. You might scare off some of the gentler people."

Stars formed in her eyes as you offered her your advice. I'm not a stranger in her eyes? That almost makes us friends then! "As you'd expect, the best lawyer always knows exactly what to say! Very impressive, I'll take note of that." She said in a good mood. "To get to the point, I was wondering if you could give me some news about your next court case!"

An apologetic expression came over your face. "I fear I can't, Mademoiselle Charlotte. I don't share any information regarding my ongoing cases. Keeping statements concerning my clients strictly to myself is very important to me." You replied and could see from her expression that she wasn't too disappointed. She had probably already anticipated this answer from you.

"What a shame, but of course, understandable." She expressed with a cheerful spirit. "Then perhaps you could comment on the new rumors about you?" She asked you intently as she leaned a little closer to you, finally revealing the true reason for her interest.

More rumors? You were aware of how talkative the people of Fontaine were, but you didn't realize that they were the same when it came to you. "What kind of rumor would you like me to address?" You asked a little curiously yourself.

"Well, the rumors about a secret romance with you and our Iudex, Monsieur Neuvilette, of course!"

You were rarely completely blown away by anything, but this? That was the first time you ever heard anything like that. It sounded even more absurd than the thought alone. People - people are talking about me and Monsieur Neuvilette...?

To Be Continued...

[yujo-nishimura]

Cross Guild Headcanon - Part 3

Comment: I saw this idea posted by @spaceagerabbit and really wanted to write it! And somehow it also fit perfectly with my ongoing fiction... so here we go - I present you a smut with submissive and whiney Buggy. This is also for @lostfirefly and @hellbaby237

Warning: smut, Buggy x female reader, a bit of force and violence, Buggy is a virgin, NSFW, minors do not interact!

English is not my native language, this has not been proofread.

Part 1 - Part 2

As you leave the room, ready to get help for your captain you suddenly are grabbed and pushed against a wall, screaming in surprise as you gasp for air. 

The scent of cigars seems to suffocate you and you immediately know who was pinning you against the wall next to the room you just had left - Crocodile was smiling at you with a sly grin. 

“Gotcha! Did the clown send you to run some errands for him? Then he needs to wait..”

You try to break free from his grip, realizing he is too strong to get away. 

“What do you want? My captain needs medical aid, I am in a hurry.” “Your loyalty is really admirable. What do you find about this loser so enticing that you are going all the lengths for him?”

"You wouldn't understand, would you?!" you seethe, directing your frustration towards Crocodile. You're well aware that such words could easily escalate the situation, leaving you battered and bruised just like your captain.You manage to restrain yourself from acting impulsively and instead wait for his response. Slowly, he releases his grip on you, seemingly impressed by your audacity.

"Would you be interested in joining the cross guild, little girl? Do you believe Captain Buggy would willingly share you with us?"

You stare at Crocodile in utter disbelief. What could he possibly mean by that?

"I don't think it's customary for a pirate captain to share their crew members," you cautiously reason, carefully choosing your words.

"Aren't you just Buggy's little plaything? Here's a proposition: demonstrate your true loyalty towards that clown, and perhaps we'll reconsider collecting the debts owed by your captain..."

"I refuse!" you exclaim, feeling as though you're repeating yourself. Deep down, you have an instinctive understanding of what Crocodile wants, but you simply cannot fathom accepting it.

Without giving you a choice, Crocodile swings open the adjacent door and forcefully propels you back into the room. Buggy was still sitting on the sofa, anxiously awaiting your return. His defeated expression transforms into one of sheer terror as he witnesses Crocodile's firm grasp on you, exerting pressure to push you forward.

"Change of plans, clown!" Crocodile declares, his voice laced with menace. "Y/n here has agreed to assist you with your debt."

"Really?" Buggy's face illuminates with a mixture of disbelief and hope. Before you can utter a word, Crocodile delivers a forceful shove, causing you to emit a startled shriek as you stumble and land directly at the feet of your captain.

A resounding laughter erupts from Crocodile, his amusement unbearable for you in front of Buggy. 

“I’m sorry, Captain, I couldn't get you a doctor. Crocodile stopped me…” 

Buggy remained silent, his body trembling with fear, uncertain of what would unfold next.

"I simply fail to understand why Y/n here would risk her own life for a worthless individual like you," Crocodile remarked, a twisted amusement evident in his voice. "But as I held her captive outside, I couldn't help but notice the spark in her eyes, her unwavering determination. It seems she truly loves you, clown. And now, I want to witness her express that love for you with all that she possesses."

Embarrassment floods over you, causing your cheeks to burn as you tremble, feeling utterly humiliated to have your emotions laid bare in front of your captain.

You can hear Buggy gulp, and you purposely avoid meeting his gaze as he cautiously asks, "Is that true? What do you mean by showing her love towards me, Crocodile...?"

Your gaze still lowered, you notice Crocodile has settled into a chair on the opposite side of the room, crossing his legs in a comfortable position.

“I want to see her fucking you. To say it bluntly. That beautiful body of hers on a loser like you sounds like the best entertainment I can get here on this island…!”

Crocodile's laughter fills the room, causing your heart to skip a beat upon hearing his words directed at you and Buggy. Desperately, you attempt to stifle the tears welling up inside, refusing to believe that this could be anything more than a cruel joke.

"In your dreams, you damn bastard!" Buggy's voice resonates with a sudden surge of courage. "You can humiliate me all you want, but my crew members are off-limits!"

You watch as he rises to his feet, placing himself between you and Crocodile, while you remain frozen on the floor, unable to move.

However, Crocodile proves to be quicker and stronger. Transforming into sand, he swiftly disappears from the chair he had been occupying, reappearing behind Buggy in an instant. With brutal force, he shoves your captain back onto the sofa, causing Buggy to emit a cry of pain. Unable to bear the sound any longer, you lift your gaze.

"I'll do it! It's fine! If you'll just stop tormenting my captain and erase all his debts, I'll do whatever you want!" you yell, desperation lacing your voice. Crocodile gazes at you, a smirk dancing upon his lips.

"That's it! That's the fire I want to see, little girl!"

Taking a deep sigh, you turn towards Buggy, who remains seated on the couch, clutching his injured arm in pain. 

"I'm sorry, Captain," you begin, your voice filled with remorse. "I wish I could have found a better moment to tell you this..."

Buggy's gaze shifts towards you, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. His eyes widen in surprise as you start to fumble at his pants, trying to open them. 

“We do not need to do this, Y/n…!”, he stammers, but you have already freed his cock from the red fabric of his clothes and you start gently rubbing it. It is so big and veiny, you can hardly fit it in your hand. As you feel the heat rising from your stomach to your head you realize that this was all you had ever dreamed of - you just had hoped it would have happened in a different time at a different place and without an audience watching.

Crocodile has sat down again on his chair, watching you carefully as you slowly start to pump Buggys throbbing dick. You try to avoid his gaze, feeling embarrassed but you can hear Buggy hissing, his hands instinctively move to stop you, but instead of exerting force, they gently guide you, encouraging you to proceed further.

“Y/n, please..!”, he groans and you are not sure if it is a plea to stop or continue further. You realize that you no longer want to entertain the thought of Crocodile and the humiliation he has subjected you to. At this moment, your sole focus is on Buggy, and you are willing to do whatever it takes to make Crocodile finally leave your captain alone.

Buggy emits a startled shriek as you suddenly take his cock in your mouth, gently starting to suck on it. 

“I knew it. Look at that little slut, she is a professional!” Crocodile chuckles at the other side of the room, still keeping his gaze fixated on you, seeming to fully enjoy the show. 

“Come on, you stupid clown. You just want to sit there and let her do the work? Give her some love too!”, he demands and as Buggy does not react, he turns into sand again, getting closer to the two of you, forcing Buggys gloved hand under your shirt, with a swift motion finding your breasts under the fabrics. Your captain is moaning and whining, he wants to shake off Crocodile's leading hand, but he can feel how you tremble under the touch and how your nipples get stiff and hard. You can feel his cock getting even harder in your mouth - he really does not want to do this, but his body is just not reacting as he had wished for. “Take off her clothes, come on!” Crocodile whispers and finally Buggy seems to be more cooperative. With shaking hands he grabs your shirt and lifts it up, leaving you down on your knees only with your pants and a bare chest. “Look at her beautiful tits. Have you ever seen lovely rosy skin like this? Don't you tell me you don't want to suck on this…?”, Crocodiles voice has become a whisper and you finally dare to look up. You can see the former warlord, standing behind the sofa, whispering into your captain's ear with a mischievous grin. Buggys face is distorted in desire and humiliation, you can feel his cock pulsating on your tongue as you meet his gaze. He is totally into you, he longs for you and you can feel that he is close to cum if you do not quickly pull back. 

Taking control of the situation, you release your grip on Buggy's cock and carefully rise to your feet. You rub your knees, easing the discomfort caused by your position on the floor.

Having both men looking at you now felt kind of arousing and embarrassing, you quickly took off your pants and underwear, giving your captain and Crocodile a good view on your whole naked body by doing so. 

"I see you're starting to enjoy yourself," Crocodile remarks with a sly grin, leisurely circling around the sofa to draw nearer to you.

Refusing to let him derail your resolve, you don't allow his comment to interrupt you. The agreement was forged out of love for Buggy, and you were determined in not allowing Crocodile to undermine your actions any further. 

Seeing your captain's longing gaze and him blushing under his clown makeup made you feel light-headed. He was a mess, spread out on the couch, his eyes scanning your body in anticipation. His vibrant blue hair scruffy, cascading in an unruly manner across the surface of the sofa. You gently took his hands, allowing him to explore your body, guiding them over your breasts and your hips. A shiver ran through your spine, finally feeling his touch made you feel weak and craving more. “Do you want to continue, Captain?!”, you ask carefully, trying to meet his gaze, his emerald eyes glowing in lust and excitement. He is unable to answer, overwhelmed by the situation, but his body shows clear signs of not having had enough yet. 

You again take the lead, carefully kneeling on to the couch, lowering your wet folds against the tip of Buggys cock. You observe a mixture of painful longing in his expression as he realizes your intentions. Leaning closer, you whisper in his ear, your voice barely audible.

"Trust me, Captain. I will make you feel really good."

You can suddenly feel bare hands on your hips and your bottom, Crocodile had positioned himself behind you two and was now laughing again, his cold fingers grabbing your flesh. 

"We don't have all day for this, and I want to see more of the clown's suffering!" Crocodile's  voice is filled with impatience and sadistic anticipation as he pushes your hips down, forcing Buggy into entering your wet pussy without any resistance. You moaned loudly over the sudden forceful penetration, but it feels so good, that you immediately start moving - feeling Buggys cock completely filling your insides. Your captain has thrown his head back, he is whimpering and groaning, his eyes rolling in his head. He cannot look at you, feeling so humiliated, but his hips start moving into you, he really wants to cum, he is craving for release. You gently put your arms around his shoulders, he is still fully dressed, but you want to make sure he feels you close to him, feeling the heat from your body. 

"Captain, look at me!" you whisper once more, your voice filled with persistence. Drawing nearer to his face, you come so close that your noses almost touch. Buggy exerts every ounce of his willpower to meet your gaze. Beads of sweat glisten on his forehead, his mouth hangs partially open, and his eyes appear feverish with a mixture of desire and confusion. You realize that he probably has never done this before in his life. You might be his first. 

You try to go a bit slower, so he can enjoy this longer. You again take his hands and guide them over your body. He is hesitant but as his fingers reach your hip, he suddenly grabs you forcefully, leaning forward to kiss you. His kiss is sloppy and messy, you realize that he is starting to lose control but also he starts to understand what this was all about. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/n. I always.. wanted to protect you..!”, he just moaned and this was the moment he couldn't hold back any longer. He started growling and pumping even harder into you, you could feel the tip of his cock touching your cervix. Saliva was dripping out of his mouth as he was so focused on reaching his climax, his movements became careless and out of sync with yours, he was just reaching for his own sweet relief. “You feel so fucking good, I wanna do this again and again to you…!” he moaned in your ear, his voice was hoarse, you had never heard him talking like this before. 

“Is it true what Crocodile said…? Do you… ah… love me?”, he continued mumbling in your ear, making you blush and feeling even more vulnerable than you already were. 

Buggy suddenly slapped your ass and you shrieked in surprise. You could feel his dick pulsating against your wet folds, you knew he was close to cum. Instead of answering, you decide to stay silent, because he was talking like he was out of his mind and his feverish eyes just proved that. You leaned forward kissing him again, gently nibbling on his lips, delicately letting your hands run down his clothed chest. This finally breaks him, Buggy throws his head back and hisses: “You damn vixen, fuck!” and in that instant you feel his hot juices flowing inside of you, filling you up to the brim. 

You are both panting, you can still feel him twitching inside of you, unable to move he just stays on the sofa, breathing heavily. Crocodiles laughter fills the room and you suddenly remember that he had been watching the whole time. 

“Well done, little girl. He didn't even last for 5 minutes but I guess your pussy took him out better than any of our beatings…!”

You quickly try to cover your breast in a sudden realization of being completely exposed and vulnerable. As you try to get off from Buggy you could hear the wet sounds from between your legs, making you blush again. 

“Sweetheart…!” As Buggy attempted to sit up, a faint moan escaped his lips. However, before you could fully comprehend the moment, Crocodile reappears behind you, his presence overshadowing you. The pungent aroma of his cigar enveloping you, while his voice takes on the same hoarse tone your captain had used earlier.

"Do you think this is the end of it?" Crocodile rasps, his words laced with a sinister undertone. "That was merely a warm-up. Now, allow me to demonstrate how a real man handles such matters."

[mlove44lh]

Don't hurt yourself

Chapter 8 - Redemption

Masterlist

Previously chapter

Warnings: angst, swearing, mention of loss

Words: 9,247

there are probably some mistakes in the translation. I'm a bit rusty. Soryy

“I had my ups and downs, but I always find the inner strength to pull myself up. I was served lemons, but I made lemonade. My grandma said "Nothing real can be threatened." True love brought salvation back into me. With every tear came redemption and my torturers became my remedy. So we're gonna heal. Me and you.”

Day 0

“I've dreamt about this for so long that I cannot even recall when this idea first took root within me.

I've memorized and held in my mind every tiny detail of this day. I've spent hours envisioning how it would unfold, researching without even having someone in mind to share this dream with.

And yet, even with all the planning and rehearsing every step in my mind for this perfect day, I never anticipated it would be as perfect as this.

The sky is clear and without clouds. And even though the wind is present, it's almost imperceptible on my skin, even with my arms uncovered.

Just for this weather in the middle of November, I could already consider this day a miracle, as evidence of a love that will be eternal and is already perfect.

The veil gently sways around me. I catch a glimpse of my guests through the sheer fabric that surrounds me. I know I have all my family and friends present, and I'm overjoyed that everyone is finally gathered. But I couldn't look at anyone else now except my future husband, who awaits me at the altar with a smile that assures me everything will be okay in our new life together.

And I believe him with a confidence I didn't know existed within me.

His dark eyes shine like never before, a privilege I've never witnessed. I know I grip my father's arm with a certain strength, but I need to feel the tension in my fingertips at least to prove to myself that I am still alive, and this is not a dream.

What reassures me is knowing that, even though I am a dreamer, I could never fantasize about such perfection.

It's as if my entire life has led up to this moment.”

Day 2,520

I waited for something. Something big, like in the movies. Something that would make me change, that would make everything fall into place perfectly so we could leave it all behind.

Even after all that, I waited. After the disrespect, after hearing from the mouth of the most despicable person I've ever known all the horrible things he was capable of doing, after being called scandalous for a behavior I know was unforgivable. Even after all of that, I waited for something.

But that something never came.

Real life is cruel, and these kinds of things don't happen. Sometimes what seems real is indeed real; sometimes the one pulling the trigger is the same person who vowed to protect you. And this kind of betrayal is the worst of all.

I was forced to stop believing in my personal fairy tale when the prince charming drove a knife into my chest.

I was yanked out of my perfect life, and the jolt was so strong that I don't know how I survived.

I look at my ring finger and even though the wedding ring is no longer here, the mark will probably last for a long time, as a visual reminder of all this.

The room is cold, and I feel his gaze on me, which makes the feeling of suffocation even bigger. My gaze remains low; this is the last place I want to be.

The door opens and the silence is cut by the mediator who introduces himself and then sits down between the four of us.

My heart races as I realize what is about to happen.

"We can begin the hearing."

Day 365

"I didn't think it could get any better after we got married, but I've never been so happy to be wrong.

The year has flown by, and all our time together has been precious. Even though Lewis isn't always present, when we're together, it feels like all the challenges of jet-lags and sleepless nights become insignificant.

One of his hands blocks my vision while the other guides me gently by the waist. I feel Lewis laughing behind me, while I become more restless than ever.

The hustle and bustle of London is miles behind us. Lewis drove, which is unusual since I'm usually the one behind the wheel.

I have no idea what I'll find here, so I eagerly await the revelation I've been waiting for hours.

"You know I hate surprises."

"I know. But you're going to like this one." He stops walking but keeps his hand over my eyes.

"It's our first wedding anniversary. It had to be something big."

"Something big?! Lewis, I got you a watch."

"And I loved my new Rolex. And this gift isn't exactly just for you; it's for both of us.”

Lewis removes his hand from my eyes; it takes me a few seconds to adjust to the brightness. The sunlight illuminates a large field surrounded by greenery. The weather is chilly, but the sunlight makes everything seem warm and cozy.

In the midst of two tall trees stands a house with a white-painted facade. Windows adorn the front of the house, along with some flowers planted around the residence.

It's a beautiful, delicate home, large enough for a family to live in, yet not so grand as to be intimidating. It's the perfect refuge for a lifetime, surrounded by the people you love.

I spend a few seconds observing the facade. Lewis steps away from my side and comes in front of me. His smile is huge, and I can tell by his expression that he's waiting for me to say something. But I wouldn't know what to say when I don't even know what I'm looking at now.

"What do you think?" His expectation implicit in his words.

"Lewis...” It can't be this, he can't have just bought a new house for us. “What is this?"

"Wait. I want you to see inside."

His hand fits into mine, and Lewis practically drags me inside. My excitement is so overwhelming that I can hardly think straight now. This is so much more than I expected.

The living room is spacious, and the wooden beams make everything cozier. The furniture is already arranged, and it's as if they've taken every detail from one of my dreams.

"There's a pool outside." He opens the large glass door, revealing more outdoor space. “We can put a big table here for when we have guests.”

His words come out quickly, like an excited child with something new, his eyes shining like two stars as Lewis divides his gaze from me to the entire house. He doesn't take long to return with his hand in mine, leading me to the second floor of the residence.

The master bedroom adopts a lighter tone than the rest of the house, covered in wood. The white paint on the walls makes the room even more spacious. Everything looks clean and new.

"You really did this?" My voice comes out almost in a whisper, and I then feel the urge to cry that hits me. “Lewis, it's perfect.”

"It's ours," he says. His voice is lower compared to minutes ago; the excitement seems to have eased. "I planned over the last year."

"This is... I'm speechless. It's perfect. But how would we do this? I mean, with our work and everything else."

It would be madness to move to the countryside from London at a time like this, even though it feels like a dream.

"I may have anticipated things a little. But we can come in a few years. This could be the house where we'll grow old together and raise our kids. It's the perfect place. We just have to wait a bit, and in the meantime, we can come whenever we want some time alone. 45 minutes from London and no neighbors for a few blocks sounds good, right?"

I can only smile. The idea of having a family by your side and growing old together is still something that can truly move me.

"Yes. It sounds perfect."

He smiles.

"Come on, I want to show you one last thing."

I can barely take in the details of the room before being pulled again.

Lewis opens the door to the room next to ours; unlike the others, this room has no furniture. A large window is situated in the middle of one of the walls, illuminating every corner of the room. I stand still at the door while Lewis finally calms down behind me.

"There are two more rooms like this, still empty." I feel the excitement within me as soon as I realize where Lewis is going. "We'll set them up together, at the right time. For our children. Let's fill this house with happiness, Y/n."

I turn to him, and I feel some tears escaping from my eyes. I couldn't be happier about this surprise.

I press our lips into a kiss that takes a while to break, just so I can speak before returning to him.

"This is all I want.”

"There are no children in common between the couple, and the divorce seems to be agreed upon by both parts. If there is no impasse with the last proposed agreement, I believe there is no need to extend this hearing."

‘Divorce. Agreement. Both parts.’ It looks as bad as it sounds. How could there be agreement on something as painful and profound as this? That's not what happens, I'm not here because I want to, I'm here because I need to be here, I'm here because I owe it to myself and the part that died inside me. I owe this as justice to the girl who believed so much in fairy tales. So no, there is no agreement whatsoever with this situation.

I glance at my lawyer and gesture to speak with him, but it doesn't become necessary. His throat clearing draws the attention of the few people in the room.

The proposed divorce agreement in the document I left with Lewis that morning was denied, as were the other two made by my lawyer. It seems there was some kind of impasse between what Lewis desired and what his representatives sought.

So, I waited for the counterproposal, and when it came, I tried to come to terms with it. There was much more for me than I asked for in the previous agreements, and much less than what I could receive if I had the slightest interest in a legal battle. The perfect agreement between a remorseful man who thinks money buys karma and the lawyers protecting his empire.

But overall, it wasn't that bad, except for one detail.

"There is a disagreement from my client regarding the agreement proposed by Mr. Hamilton."

They look at us with curiosity. Lewis raises his gaze full of doubt, which meets mine.

"And what would that be?" The mediator settles into his chair, leaning towards us.

I could vomit if I had ingested anything. I wish I could just accept anything proposed and leave right away. But I don't want to leave with anything other than what already belongs to me, and I certainly have no interest in something that would keep me tied to Lewis in any way.

I know this is another thing I shouldn't do. Especially if the hypothesis in my mind proves to be true. But I don't care anymore; I have every right to use the shell of a bad person at least once.

I have the right to escape from him.

"My client is no longer interested in the shares related to Mr. Hamilton's companies. As well as the residence in London. We would like to present a counterproposal, where the shares would be transferred back, and the house would be entirely in his name, if there is agreement, of course."

I watch my lawyer pass new papers to the mediator, who carefully examines each one.

I want to disappear from his life in every way possible; I won't heal if I don't distance myself from him. Continuing with the shares in my name would put me in moments like this. Trapped at a meeting table with him by my side. And the house would only remind me of everything that never was. I don't even want to drive past it, even though it's a new residence; it's infested with ghosts for me.

"What?!" Lewis diverts everyone's attention, even from the mediator, who is still examining the papers in front of him. "What are you talking about? These shares are rightfully yours, Y/n. We earned this together." Hearing his voice in person after so many weeks makes me want to cry.

"Mr. Hamilton, please. Only your lawyer has the right to speak at this moment, okay?" The mediator's voice becomes slightly louder to draw Lewis's attention.

There's a lot of disbelief in his gaze, while mine overflows with sorrow.

If only it were just businesses and numbers, the only things we conquered together, all of this would be infinitely easier.

"Don't do this. The shares are yours too, you know that."

Lewis completely ignores the mediator and continues speaking directly to me. His gaze reveals pleading, as if he's seeking redemption and the only way to achieve it is to ensure I end up with millions in shares.

It's tempting. But we're talking about a woman with a wounded ego and immense pride. So, thanks, but no.

"Mr. Hamilton, please."

The mediator seems a bit nervous. Meanwhile, his lawyer becomes restless and leans in to speak with Lewis.

"If she's giving up willingly, you should consider it. We're not talking about something small, Lewis." His lawyer's voice is low, but within this tiny room and with everyone else silent, it would be impossible not to hear his words.

Lewis still looks at me, and I still look at him. I haven't opened my mouth to respond to him, and I don't intend to. All I want is to leave this place soon with what I want, or rather, what I don't want.

"I don't care about that." Lewis responds to his lawyer, but still looking at me. I could even say there's a hint of anger in his expression, if only I still knew this person in front of me.

Day 1,397

“Waking up to the smell of coffee at home is one of my favorite things because I know when it happens, he's home. And it couldn't be any different; he promised me he would be.

My arms wrap around him as soon as I find him in the kitchen. His bare torso is warm and makes me feel at home like nothing else ever came close to achieving.

His hands hand me a cup of coffee, and our lips come together in a kiss full of the longing that seems never to go away, no matter how close we are.

"How is it possible for someone who hates coffee to make the best coffee I've ever had in my life?!"

Lewis laughs before placing his hands on my waist.

"You say that because you're in love with me and like everything I do. Literally, everyone who's had my coffee didn't like it."

"That's because they don't know how to appreciate the strongest coffee that has ever entered their system." Laughter echoes through the apartment. "But seriously, honey, as much as I love it, you have to go easy on the amount of grounds. I could stay awake for days if I had more than one cup in the morning."

His hands tighten around my waist enough to make me sigh. I place my mug with the hot liquid on the counter and soon bring my hands back to his bare back.

I see the smile fading from his face, replaced by a serious expression.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I was just thinking."

"Want to share that?"

"I'm not sure you'll like the idea very much." A shy smile returns to his lips and my curiosity rises. "I know that wasn't the plan. But I can't stop thinking about it."

His eyes are no longer in contact with mine.

"Come on. Tell me."

"Well." He seems anxious, perhaps genuinely concerned about my reaction. "I think, maybe. If you want. We could start trying to expand the family."

My smile drops.

Not because I don't want this, but because I want it so bad that just the idea of Lewis also wanting it even before what was planned between us makes my stomach churn with happiness. I don't know if it's because of Lewis's strong coffee or my excitement, but suddenly I become aware of my accelerated heartbeat.

"I mean. If you still want to wait, we can. I know you have your work, and..."

"No!" I interrupt his train of thought. "I just wasn't expecting that right now." I have to think about the words before I can say them. "Lewis. Are you serious?"

I pull his face back to mine and force him to look at me. We are so close to each other that Lewis must be able to feel my own heartbeat against his chest.

"I've been thinking about this for a while. I know we agreed to wait until after Formula 1, to move to London and start our family. But I don't think I'm going to retire anytime soon, and I want a family with you now. And I know it will be crazy to have a child in the middle of all the travels and chaos of our life, but..." His smile grows even wider. "It will be our child, right?! If there's someone who could handle all of this, it's him. Or her."

My excitement is so overwhelming that I can hardly think of anything to say.

I know my eyes overflow with happiness and emotion, and I see Lewis's eyes mirroring the same.

I pull him closer to me, pressing against him with no desire to let him go anywhere.

"You know how much I want this." I pull him into a kiss that ends up being a bit messy due to our excitement.

"Is that a yes?" Lewis separates us for a moment to speak.

"Of course!"

"We'll take a break so that Mr. Hamilton's lawyer can review the counterproposal and to calm things down a bit.”

I watch both of them stand up. Lewis leaves the room almost running, while his lawyer follows him with the new papers in hand. I feel numb, I need to tap my feet on the floor a few times to make sure I won't fall when I stand up.

“Y/n. Are you sure about the counterproposal?” Adam, my lawyer, turns his chair towards me. His voice is low even though there's no need for it. Since there's no one else in the room. “I know you have your reasons, but we're talking about over fifty million. That could become much more over the years. Giving it away like this to him could be a mistake. You could at least sell them.”

"No. I don't want anything more from him, Adam." His expression reveals what he doesn't say, which makes me feel the need to justify myself. "I'm not saying this just because I'm hurt, I'm saying this because I really want out of this, I don't want to deal with anything related to Lewis anymore. And I know it may sound crazy, but every penny coming from those shares would only make me feel even worse. So yes, I am positive about my decision."

"Alright. I understand." His compassionate look kills me. I turn away from his expression to avoid dealing with that pity stamped on his face. "I think they'll agree, there wouldn't be a reason to delay this any further."

"I hope so." I don't wait for a response, leaving Adam in his place and stepping out of the room in search of fresh air.

Day 1,716

"I promised I wouldn't disappoint myself this time. I thought it would be easier not to see what I wanted for the seventh consecutive time. But no. Every month, it just hurts more.

I stare at the small plastic object in my hand as I feel a lump in my throat.

A damn red line.

One. Just one.

I feel Lewis's arm around me and his face resting on my shoulder.

We started trying a few months ago. We knew that if we waited for the perfect moment, it would never come. We travel all the time, and Formula 1 takes up a good part of Lewis's life. Besides, it's a dangerous sport.

But the desire for our children proved to be so big that any potential problem seems microscopic in comparison. We have a serious relationship and stability, as well as plenty of willingness and love, what could be missing?!

So, I stopped taking the pills and waited for it to happen. But it didn't. Not in the first month, not in the second, it started to bother me in the third. But I didn't imagine it would reach the seventh unsuccessful attempt.

I try to contain myself and pretend to myself that everything is fine. We're young, we have plenty of time to make this happen. But the frustration is written all over my face.

"We can keep trying,” his voice comes out muffled because his face is resting on me. “It's the best part anyway,” he jokes.

A soft laugh escapes my lips.

“Yeah. Maybe next time, huh?”

I take the test out of my field of vision and look at Lewis. He adjusts his posture and nods while looking at me attentively.

Maybe he's waiting for some kind of outpouring, or even restrained tears. But there isn't any. Not because I'm not feeling sad, but because it wouldn't make sense right now. Especially when he's just minutes away from leaving home for another one of his countless work weekends. A tearful wife wouldn't be the best thing to leave on his mind before all the concentration needed for a Grand Prix.

“We could consult with a specialist if you want.”

He stands up and goes to his suitcase.

“No. I don't think it's necessary now.” My face betrays my words. The question of why a pregnancy hasn't happened yet has been weighing on my mind for months. “We can wait for some more time.”

He sighs.

“Alright.” His hands rest on the handle of his suitcase. “I have to go. Will you be okay?”

“If I say no, will you stay here with me?” Compassion fills his eyes, making me immediately regret what I just said. I truly wish he would give up work sometimes, but I would never ask him for that. Not wanting to be inconvenient, and already knowing the answer. “I'm kidding. Go, go save the world, number forty-four.”

“You're my world.” Lewis walks over to me and plants a kiss on my forehead. That makes me smile. “See you on Monday.”

I go down the dozens of stairs arranged in front of the court. I sit down on one of the steps before reaching the end of them.

The streets are bustling. It couldn't be different on a Tuesday morning. I try to focus on the lives of people swiftly passing by, hoping to distract myself from the lump in my throat.

There are so many things on my mind that I can't even concentrate on one of them. It's like a buzzing is taking over me, leaving no room for anything else. Neither my expectations for a new life, nor the object kept in my bag, nor the hypothesis that should be consuming me, nor my marriage dissipating while I watch it all, nor my exhaustion. None of this is enough to make me feel anything.

I notice his presence beside me through my peripheral vision. He sits down, leaving almost no space between us but without touching me. I don't move to look at him or to move away from his figure. I remain focused on the people walking in front of us, wishing at this moment to have the life of the lady strolling peacefully with her dog through the streets of Monaco.

"How did we get to this?"

Of all the things I expected to hear from Lewis after weeks of not talking, this would be the last of my assumptions.

I don't think much before responding to him.

“I don't know.” I feel his gaze on me, but I still don't turn to him. “I don't think it happened at a specific moment. If only we could attribute it to one exact thing, it would make things easier.”

I can hear his breath next to me; he seems shaken, restless in his place.

“Y/n, if I could go back and undo what I did...”

“It wouldn't change a thing.” I interrupt his speech. I couldn't bear to hear Lewis's lamentations, especially at a moment like this, where I'm so detached from my own self that I'm not even aware of my emotions. “Our marriage ended before you cheated me. It ended long before that, long before losing our child. It happened, I don't think it's a good idea to keep tormenting ourselves thinking about what could have been. Because it wasn't. Simple as that. We're here today.”

He stares at me; I know he's looking into my eyes, and from the position of his body leaning towards me, I can deduce that he longs for my reciprocity. But I don't want to, and I can't look at him right now. As much as all my instincts honed over these years are begging me to go towards him.

“What if we kept trying?" He doesn't even believe in his own words. The sentence comes out like a final sigh.

“We tried for a long time. But we gave up at some point. We kept giving up on small things until they turned into huge things.”

This is the end. I know that. I've had it in my mind for a long time, and I'm sure of this decision. But it should hurt less. I should at least have the ability to breathe or to face my — still — husband.

I don't feel my words coming. I just feel the need to say them, maybe because I need a conclusion. Or because I got used to sharing everything with him, and that's still something that needs to go away.

“I don't feel happy to be here today. Maybe I should have fought more, and you too. But despite that, I know this is the right decision. And even if you don't admit it, I know you agree with me. There's no point in thinking about what could have been done when, in the end, we're here today. And nothing will change that.”

Finally, I gather the courage to look at him. He looks like a complete stranger, a totally different person than he used to be.

His gaze, which was always the thing I loved most about him, now doesn't have the same effect on me. Everything about Lewis seems off. And even though I'm close to him, I don't feel him here.

The person by my side has become a stranger. I'm overwhelmed by grief for someone who is alive and in front of me but is nowhere near who they used to be.

I stare at him for a few seconds before speaking again.

“That's the only regret I have. This habit of deceiving ourselves, the complacency we let take over our marriage. Because if we had realized earlier, if we hadn't let it get to this point where we both ended up hurt, then I would remember all these years with immense happiness. But that's not what happens. I can't even look at you because it hurts so much.” I watch tears invade his eyes right in front of mine. I feel anger and regret at the same level. “And that's the part that kills me. Knowing that the best years of my life will be the most painful to remember.” Only when I stop to breathe do I realize that I'm also crying. I let the tears flow freely down my face as I continue my train of thought. “I don't know if this feeling will change. If with time, it will get better, all I know is what I'm feeling today and what I'm living today. And I've decided that from now on, this is what I'm going to focus on. The present.”

He doesn't say anything for some time.

We stare at each other without any intention whatsoever. There's nothing to be said that would make any difference.

“I'm sorry.” I barely recognize his voice, just like the rest of his being.

“I know. Me too.”

Day 2,125

“The notification sound on my phone breaks my focus from the TV program. I grab the device resting on the couch cushion and check the notification. As soon as I read the message, my boredom is replaced by another wave of hope, as it has been happening every month for over a year.

The notification arrived, and Lewis is home today, things that almost never happen at the same time. Maybe this is a sign that this month will finally be the one that works.

Everything is seen as a sign for a desperate woman.

I jump off the couch and head towards our bedroom.

Lewis is lying down, his attention fixed on the large TV, airing the same program I was watching in the living room. The realization leaves me confused, and even a little sad. Why would he prefer to stay away from me than do exactly the same thing he's doing here, next to me?!

I swallow my wounded ego and ignore the unpleasant feeling that this understanding left me. After all, what we need to do is much bigger than my tantrum.

I climb onto the bed and approach him. Lewis doesn't bother to move.

I straddle his lap without any difficulty. My kisses start on his lips and are instinctively reciprocated by him, but his hands remain inert. I grind on his lap in an attempt to stir something. Nothing.

I move my kisses towards his abdomen, and it's only at that moment that Lewis takes some action. Not the one I wanted, of course.

“Y/n. Love. Not today, okay?*

His hands come to me, not to enjoy more of my touch, but to stop me from continuing. This irritates me, but it doesn't prevent me from continuing. I return to his neck and distribute kisses on his skin, with no intention of giving up what I need.

“Come on. It'll be quick.”

I lower my hands to the elastic of his sweatpants while still showering him with kisses, but my movements are interrupted by him.

“Y/n, stop! I said no.” His voice is loud, which makes me stop immediately.

He moves away from me abruptly. Lewis gets up without any care for how he leaves me on the bed.

I feel embarrassed like never before, anger comes in the same dimension.

”Lewis, what the fuck?!”

“I'm tired of this shit. What do you think? That I'm a damn robot you can press a button and get whatever you want? That's ridiculous.”

“I thought you wanted this too.”

Lewis's breathing is audible; he's restless as he stares at me.

"And I want to, but not like this. When was the last time we had sex because we were horny, not because we're obligated to fuck every time your phone notifies you about your fertile period, Y/n?"

"I don't know, Lewis. I'm trying to get what both of us want here."

"Yes, you're trying that by becoming the coldest person on earth. What's the next step? Do you want me to come in a jar and hand it over to you?"

"That's actually a good idea. It would make things a lot easier."

Sarcasm slips out of me effortlessly. I feel anger rising in my body. And anxiety too.

"For God's sake!" He enters the bathroom but leaves the door open. I hear the running water from the tap for a few seconds before he speaks again.

"What the hell do you want, Lewis?!" My voice erupts in a scream.

He comes back quickly to stand in front of me.

“My wife!" He yells too. "That's what I want, Y/n. Can you bring her back?! Or has this obsession taken her away too?"

My frustration is so intense that I feel my throat burning with tears that want to fall. We've never shouted at each other, never fought like we are now. Everything feels like a horrible and senseless chaos.

"I had a terrible weekend. And you didn't even bother to ask how things are. I asked you to come with me to the Grand Prix, and you chose to stay here, probably to consult with another doctor to tell you exactly what all the others have said, if there's any other doctor left in Monaco that you haven't consulted. You're so blinded by this idea that you forgot to keep living your life."

A humorless laugh escapes my lips.

"Oh, poor little thing. You had a terrible weekend? I had a terrible year, Lewis! And I'm not crying because no one came to console me or anything like that. I'm trying to do what I should, what both of us want. You don't have the right to judge me for that." I get out of bed and walk towards the door. Frustrated and overwhelmed by guilt. Today could have been the day, but it wasn't. It wasn't because he didn't want it. "Grow up, Lewis. And if you want someone to pat you on the head, go find someone else, because it won't be me."

It's the last thing I say before slamming the door behind me.”

“I think we should go back inside.”

His voice breaks the silence between us, which has lingered for some time. We stopped talking minutes ago, but we didn't feel the need to move away from each other.

I think we both know that this is the last time we stay together like this. There's no guilt in wanting to prolong this moment, as sad as it may be.

I nod as I look back at him.

I know this was the opportunity to finally tell him what I believe is happening, but I simply can't. It was too hard to get to this point, and sharing my suspicions would only hurt him and further delay the inevitable. I don't need to subject him to that, because if I'm truly right, I know this issue won't be something that lingers for long. And if I can spare him from this additional pain, that's what I'll do.

"I'll sign the papers. If that's really what you want."

"No. That's definitely not what I want, Lewis." I stand up alongside him. "But it's what we have to do if there's still any respect left for what we both lived together."

We enter the grand courtroom together, taking small steps. We walk side by side without any hurry towards the cold room that awaits us, not saying a word. No need for more lamentations. Certain of what will happen, uncertain about the future we hadn't imagined without each other.

I return to my seat, my heart racing as everyone settles in.

"My client agrees to the counterproposal," his lawyer breaks the silence.

"That's good. Now that both parties agree, you may finally sign the documents, please," the mediator seems almost relieved.

The knot in my throat chokes me. I want to escape from here, I want to cry like a baby right now. This hurts like hell. I didn't think I would have a breakdown at this moment, not when everything is so close to ending.

I try to hold myself together, to keep my breathing in check and not show how close I am to bursting into tears and screams. I think I do well in that, as the only person who notices my instability is the only person in the room who is in the same situation as I am.

His red eyes betray a nearly palpable pain.

It shouldn't be like this, it shouldn't be ending this way.

We promised we would die together, old and gray, in our house with the white façade surrounded by flowers in London.

It wasn't supposed to end in a cold room at the first instance court in Monaco. This is so damn unfair.

Lewis takes the white papers that were handed to him by his lawyer. His hands shake, but only I notice. He doesn't avert his gaze from mine, not for a second, not even as he picks up the black pen placed in front of him. He wants to be sure. He wants one last confirmation from me.

Day 0

"Our hands fit perfectly. I instantly feel calmer with his touch. I step away from my father as I approach my fiancé.

“You look perfect.” He whispers in my ear as he gets close. The emotion in his voice is clear. Lewis plants a kiss on my cheek before turning to my father.

They shake hands. My father pulls Lewis into a half-hug, I know something is said in the midst of it by the older man, but I don't hear what. Just the possibilities that pass through my mind are enough to make me laugh.

Lewis doesn't take long to turn back to me; now his attention is entirely mine.

"Ladies and gentlemen, family and friends, we are gathered here on this special day to celebrate the love and union of two souls who have decided to embark on this journey of life together.”

The celebrant begins to speak. My heart races, and the smile on my face feels like it will stay there forever.

Lewis looks more handsome than ever. His happiness manages to make him even more beautiful, as if that were possible. I want to look around, see if the flowers arranged are the ones we chose, or if everyone we invited is present. But I couldn't, I couldn't look anywhere when I have the best thing in my life right in front of me. Moving his mouth and telling me "I love you" without making a sound. Just for me to know, just to make it clear.

“Marriage is a unique moment, as it is the union of two individuals who choose to share their dreams, joys, and challenges side by side. Today, Lewis and Y/n, you are taking an important step in your lives, a step that represents the promise to love and care for each other, regardless of the circumstances. The journey of love is marked by highs and lows, but it is the partnership and complicity that will help you overcome all obstacles together. Love is the force that binds your hearts, making you stronger, braver, and more willing to face any adversity. Now, I ask for everyone's attention for the vows of the newlyweds.”

Anxiety consumes me even more, but I am excited to finally be able to say the words I have been holding inside me.

I turn to Alessia, who stands behind me. She hands me the small piece of paper I entrusted to her earlier.

I try to breathe a few times before starting to pronounce the words written by me on the lined paper.

“I think it's not news to anyone here how much of a dreamer I am. Everyone who knows me has heard about my fantasies at some point.” My laughter is accompanied by that of my guests. “Many of them I judged and was aware of being impossible. After all, I know that nothing can be perfect.” I take my eyes off the paper and lock eyes with Lewis for a few seconds. “I never thought I would be so happy to be wrong.”

I try to hold back the tears as I speak, but I know my emotion is implicit and one step away from taking over me.

“You showed me that my unrealistic dreams are not only possible but even better than in my imagination. Love transcends what I thought was impossible. Your love showed me that even the bad parts are worth it if I have you by my side.” Lewis smiles in a way different from the usual, tears fill his eyes too. Which only makes me even more fulfilled. “I never imagined that I would marry that guy I met by mere chance on a night out with my friends. Not because I didn't like you right away; because I think it's clear how I was already won over by you before even knowing your name.” His laughter echoes within me. “But because I imagined that when I found the love of my life, the feeling would be different. I would be afraid, anxious, uncertain at times. After all, that's what my mind and all love stories make us believe. That it has to be complicated to be real. But that's not what happened, everything between you and me was natural, it felt right from the beginning.”

I need a few seconds to breathe, look at our guests for a brief moment, and can capture all the emotion present in the room.

How is it possible for a moment to be so magical? How could all of this result in anything other than the perfection of a life together? I thought I was sure of something until now, but this feeling shows me otherwise. There is nothing within me greater than the conviction of the right decision for the love of my life.

“I took a while to realize that this is the essence of true love. The kind that happens fluidly and unconditionally, without pressures, fears, or insecurities. In you, I found the security and comfort I didn't even know I was looking for. Now, looking back at everything we've been through, I realize that every step that brought us here was guided by destiny. Every moment we shared, every laugh, every tear, everything was part of a carefully written plot for us to find each other in this perfect fairy tale.”

“And, my love, I promise to keep cherishing this feeling that binds us. Because it was by your side that I learned that true love doesn't need to be complicated or uncertain. I thank chance, destiny, and all the forces and entities that brought us together. I am blessed for this, and there are not enough words to express my gratitude at this moment. May our love continue to grow, to blossom, and may we face every challenge together with courage and complicity. Because if I'm by your side, I know there's nothing to fear, and we'll be fine as long as we're together.”

I articulate the last sentences while looking into your eyes; they are already engraved in me even before writing them.

Lewis presses his lips together; there are a few seconds of silence before we laugh at each other. In a mix of tears and happiness.

Knowing that it's now his turn makes me more anxious than minutes ago when I started my speech.

“Oh God.” He whispers with a choked voice. “How do you expect me to say anything after that?”

“Just breathe. I'm right here.”

Our hands connect again. I tighten my grip on him, waiting for the time Lewis needs to prepare.

Eventually, Lewis brings his hand to the pocket of his pants and takes out a folded piece of paper.

I notice the tremor in his hands. But his smile remains intact.

“Y/n…” He looks at me for a few seconds before returning his gaze to the paper. “I could spend hours here telling you how certain I am that you are the love of my life. How you showed me a life that I never imagined would be mine. Or how you taught me so much that I don't know how I survived before I met you.” The hand holding the paper tightens with a certain force, but his expression, in contrast, brings me peace. “But there are not enough vows of love to tell you what I would like now, Y/n. I don't think there's a combination of words that comes close to expressing what I really want, what I feel inside me. That's why I'm not going to try, not at this moment, not in this way. I will show you, every day, what no phrase at this moment could. And that's my promise to you.”

I feel an euphoria that could be mistaken for anxiety; each word of his envelops me in a way that I even feel numb, as if floating in an almost immortal state while I listen to him. Everything within me echoes that this is the moment, the pinnacle of genuine happiness. It's the moment I intend to remember every day for the rest of my life.

Simply, the best moment of all.

I even make an effort to set aside the awareness of my emotions a little. I'm not sure what could happen if I completely surrender to what I'm feeling. It's like a nirvana, and I hope it lasts forever within me.

Lewis pauses for a few seconds before continuing.

“You are the best part of me. I am my best version when I have you by my side. And for that, I promise to cultivate each of these things that move us, promise to take care of this love and never let it go away. I promise to remember every day how lucky I am to have a wife like you, even in those moments when you drive me crazy wanting something and not being sure what, and thinking I should be a deciphering master.” Everyone laughs, tears mixed with happiness on our faces. “No. It's okay, actually your ability to confuse me is one of the things I love about you.”

“You are light. You are happiness. You are peace and a storm at the same time; you are my foundation, the love of the life of someone who never believed in fairy tales. You are my fortress, and I hope to be yours. So, I'll be here, always right here, by your side. Making sure you are always content, always supported, never alone. Never alone.” He emphasizes the last sentence. His eyes glued to mine. “I love you.”

His gaze, intense and suffocating, seems to penetrate my skin, but I maintain composure, hiding the storm unraveling within me. Any gesture from me could end up prolonging this unbearable moment, and honestly, I don't know if I could endure another hour in this room.

I resist the temptation to look away and, instead, just nod slightly. In the ensuing silence, I try to capture every detail, every line on his face, as if this were the last time I would see him. His eyes, which once shone with love, now reflect only the shadow of what we were. His Adam's apple moves, and his gaze shifts away from mine, finally releasing me from this anguish.

The fingers holding the pen are tense, white from the applied pressure. The fine tip touches the paper, leaving a trail of farewell.

A final uncertain glance.

The last second as wife and husband.

I can't believe it ended like this.

But that's how it ends. Not with a bang, but with a suffocating silence, marking the end of something we swore to be eternal. The last trace of our connection fades away, and now all that remains is the journey unfolding before me. A life now redefined by the absence of what once was us.

[…]

I enter the apartment, and exhaustion takes over my body.

It's still mid-morning, but it feels like days have passed since I woke up.

My new home is nothing like the previous one; it's a simple apartment with three bedrooms that seems to have the perfect size to avoid feeling cramped but also not so large as to leave me lonely.

The apartment of a single woman.

The walls are predominantly white, with a single exception in the living room. I painted one of the walls blue on my first day here, a choice that now seems too impulsive. I look at that wall and feel a twinge of regret, but the idea of repainting it is simply inconceivable.

I don't even like the color blue.

Suddenly, I become aware of the object I tucked into my bag days ago, and for the first time since the purchase, I feel anxious about the possibilities it holds.

I close my hand around the strap of my bag and walk to the bathroom, no hurry, but my heart beats unevenly.

I lock the door behind me, even though I'm alone, a habit I haven't lost even after leaving my parents' house.

My breath would be audible even if the house weren't in the absolute silence it finds itself in.

I do what I've done at least two hundred times in my life; there's no need to look at the instructions. At this point, it has become muscle memory. The ritual unfolds in silence, marked only by the subtle sound of paper and plastic.

With care, I return the test to its place in the small box. Hesitation hangs in the air, a prolonged pause before facing what I already know. The urgency to find out competes with the reluctance to confront. I'm not ready; I don't want to relive all of that again. The fear inside me grows to proportions I've never experienced before. If I had the slightest strength, I could have a breakdown now.

I leave the bathroom, seeking more space, trying to alleviate the suffocating sensation. The small box still in my hand.

The indicated 3 minutes have passed; the instructions say to disregard after 15 minutes. I have 12 minutes, 12 minutes to avoid the answer, 12 minutes where I still pretend not to know anything, where I can continue to delude myself for another brief interval. 12 minutes that allow me to postpone the inevitable confrontation, as if ignoring the clock could freeze the reality that may await me.

There are tears. Tears that I don't know if they're of sadness, joy, or a complex combination of both. Each drop seems to carry the weight of a journey, mourning the past loss, the uncertainty of the future, and the unexpected surprise of the possibility of a new life forming.

There's a trembling smile playing at the corners of my lips. It's a smile marked by vulnerability, fear, and resilience. The irony of discovering this right after the divorce seems to hang in the air, but there's also a flame of courage that ignites within me. A strength that arises from the need to face this chapter alone.

There is confusion. My heart feels like a maze of contradictory sensations. The duality of emotions manifests in thoughts that collide, in doubts intertwining with fearful hopes. How to balance the fragility of a new life with the pain of a previous loss? Or rather, two losses?

There is fear. It feeds on the vulnerability of being alone. The specter of the past loss still looms over me, a shadow that whispers fears. The uncertainty of what is to come.

There is happiness. Happiness that arises from the understanding that life, despite its painful twists, goes on. A new life, an opportunity to start over, even if the scenery seems daunting at first glance. It's the hope that ignites in the face of darkness.

I gather the necessary courage and hold the object firmly. I take it out of the box.

There are two lines.

[…]

Life unfolds, it happens, even though I may want to stop it at times. Choices and changes, at times, leave eternal scars. And if it hurt enough to leave a mark, it means it should always be remembered.

Before me, there is a blank canvas, a path never treaded before, where I carry my baggage and memories that I'm not sure will fade so quickly.

The pain makes room for resilience, a chance for redefinition. Life shows that the ability to move forward is the source of overcoming, even when the future is unstable and uncertain.

Even in the quietest corners of my story, there is a subtle melody that continues to play, reminding me that, despite everything, life persists, transforming into an eternal flow.

Life metamorphoses, flowing like a river that, even in the face of obstacles, finds its way, reminding me that persistence is the essence of existence.

However, this same persistence, although it is the force that makes us move forward, can also be the cause of pain, of giving up, and of exhaustion.

Learn when to say goodbye.

N/a: OMG I´M BACK!😭

I won't even justify my absence. I simply couldn't write for a long time. But I hope it was worth it. Here it is, the last chapter, finally. I hope to be able to write again and bring more stories. Thank you to everyone who followed and had patience. ❤️❤️

[mushrubes]

Cowboy

Masterlist | Red dead redemption masterlist |

Requested : no

Based on character ai { athur morgan by @/squishysushii }

(i'm spending too much time on that someone help)

Pairing : Arthur Morgan x female reader

Pronouns : she/shes

Type : fluff

Word count : 1.4k

Warnings : Swear words, friends to lovers, mutual pinning, slightly ooc <3

Have a great day !! <3

——————————–

They'd both stumbled into the hotel after hitching the horses in the newly built stables out the back of the hotel, trying to escape the snowstorm before the worst hit. They'd both had to share the only room left, too tired to worry about the single bed at that moment in time, wanting the heat to thaw their frozen bodies.

They'd both taken a steaming hot bath and gotten changed into clean, dry clothes - Arthur insisting on paying, saying it was on him. It must've been half an hour since then, she was sitting huddled by the fireplace, legs pressed to her chest as she tried to fight the shivering.

"Well isn't this just great?" she grumbled, feeling her heart skip a beat as she heard the familiar deep chuckle. He groaned, leaning forward in the chair as he set his hot coffee down on the table, sighing. "No denying it, but I'm not ready to trek back in that." he shrugged, shivering at the thought. "A nice place to spend some time, wouldn't you think?" he asked, looking around and admiring the room. It wasn't decorated to the max, but it was still nice and way warmer than back at camp.

"That is true, it could be worse." she admitted, sighing as she held her hands near the flame before rubbing them together. A small smile planted itself on Arthurs's face as he watched her, chuckling and looking out the window, seeing the snowstorm raging. "Definitely, we could be out there, in the middle of the woods with snow up to our ankles. Or some other unfortunate place. This's a godsend." he huffed, sitting back down on the sofa. "Or stuck with Micah." she suggested, knowing that he felt the same about that man.

He sighed, rubbing his face with his hand before picking his drink up and taking a gulp. "Just the thought of that makes me shudder. He'd probably have lost his cool from the snow and the cold by now and started ranting at us both. He's just unbearable." he claimed, recalling the time he was stuck with Micah and John in the snowy mountains a few months ago, due to a mistake Micah had made - he refused to take any accountability. She had moved into the armchair, stirring a spoon in her mug around. "Probably would've killed me, he's already mad at me." she stated, a deep sigh leaving her.

He looked up, meeting her eyes as a little concern was evident in his. "Mad at you? What on earth for? Surely he doesn't just hate you out of the blue. If he does, I'll have to give him what for." Arthur questioned, feeling his anger at the man grow with the news. It wasn't a secret that Arthur was slightly protective over her. She'd practically grown up with him and John, and the outlaw had grown to have a soft spot for her. He'd always look for her when returning to camp, bringing her back little presents or just checking she was okay. Whenever she was helping out with a robbery or raid, he'd always make sure to be near her, helping with shooting or covering her.

Darting between the floor and his eyes, she gave in, knowing he would not let it go anyway until he knew. "Rejected him." she started, a chuckle leaving her lips as he groaned, putting a hand over his face. "What's that fool gone and done now? He just can't take a no, no matter where it comes from or who it's directed at, can he?" Arthur grumbled, looking at her as he waited for the explanation. There was something different about his gaze but she couldn't figure out what.

"Asked me out, I said no. Proceeded to say he could 'show me a good time' and I called Dutch on him." she shrugged, a small grin on her face as she remembered how scared he looked. Arthur's eyebrows furrowed at her words, taking a deep breath. "Jesus Christ. Why does he think that's acceptable? To go and harass one of his own, and one of our two women in the camp no less?" he sighed, shaking his head. "But, to be fair, I'm not surprised. He's never shown his respect to the women in the gang, has he?..." Arthur trailed off, his face softening as he looked at her.

"Don't think he's capable." she grinned, earning a smile and a shake of the head from him. "No, I highly doubt it. It's like he lacks any human decency whatsoever. Maybe his mother dropped him as a child. That may explain some things." Arthur dug, chuckling as he heard her laugh, taking a sip of his coffee. "Maybe one of these days he'll get a smack across the face, if not worse." he commented, his tone dark as a glint of hatred was in his eyes. "Already one step ahead of you." she grinned, winking at him as he raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"Have you? Why, how did he react? Did he try and fight you?" Arthur interrogated, a small smile on his face as he seemed...proud of her? "He went to until he saw Dutch stood there." she smirked, Arthur nodding as he knew where it was going. "Ah, that makes sense. A bit of self-preservation on his part. Did Dutch get angry at him for disrespecting one of his own?" he made sure, his face softening as he saw her nod. "Had a whole go at him - never seen Micah so red." she giggled, missing how Arthur's eyes gleamed as he heard her melodic laugh.

He huffed, a small smile on his face as he hummed. "I'd like to have been there for that. Nothing pleases me more than to see him get his comeuppance. Hopefully, that'll be his last attempt to ask you out." he commented, clearing his throat as he fought the rush going to his cheeks. "Better be, told him I was interested in someone else." she mentioned, moving from the chair and sitting on the sofa next to him. Arthur raised an eyebrow at the words, curiosity taking over him. "Oh really? Who's that then?" he smiled curiously, her blush noticed by him.

"Just...someone else in camp." she tried to play off, silently hoping he couldn't notice her getting flustered. He chuckled at the reaction, nodding his head as he thought about it, deciding not to make it too obvious he knows. "Fair enough. But, if you don't mind me asking, what's his name?" he continued, a smug smile plastered on his face. She could tell he knew on his face, he just wanted to hear her say it out loud. "Don't think you know him." She joked, feeling her face heat up even more as he nodded, his smile growing and eyebrows raising even higher. "Tell me, missy. Come on, what's his name?" he asked.

She thought about it before responding, a playful grin on her lips. "Tacitus Kilgore." she confessed, Arthur's smile going even wider as he hears the confirmation he was looking for. "Tacitus Kilgore, eh? I've heard of him. You like him then, do you?" he wondered, eyes full of love as he looks at her. She grinned at him, face softened as she saw a different side to him, one that wasn't on show very often. "Very much, sir." she played along.

"A handsome man, he is. And a kind one, too. You've got a good taste in men, then, miss." he complimented, looking smug as he drank the rest of his coffee. She moved closer to him, the gap between them on the sofa now gone, thighs against one another. "What about you, cowboy?" she smirked, her voice soft as Arthur felt a fuzzy feeling in his head when he heard the nickname.

He chuckled, putting the mug down. "Me? Well, I'll tell you. I'm still tryna find a nice lady who might take notice of me. That said..." he paused. He leaned in closer, a smile plating on his lips. "I'm always open to suggestions from the most beautiful girl in the gang." he winked, his face only centimetres away from hers. "Are you a fan of cowboys, missy?" he asked, his hands pressed to her waist as he moved her into his lap. "Well, I am a fan of a certain one." she smirked, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Oh really?" he raised an eyebrow, his voice now a whisper in her ear. "Care to tell me which one in particular?" he continued, making circles on her hips with his thumb. "The one right in front of me." she whispered back as he moved closer, leaning forward so his lips barely grazed hers.

"Prove it."

[harrowharks-iliac-crest]

Lyctorhood

Worldbuilding/Lore

<< Previous: Necromancy | Masterpost

-

You become a Lyctor by utilising the "Eightfold Word" and absorbing the soul of your cavalier. At least, that's what all the current and hopeful Lyctors thought before the revealing chapter at the end of Harrow the Ninth. There appears to be a way that you can gain Lyctoral power without killing cav or necro. Though so far, only John did this with Alecto, who is a special case. Anastasia almost managed, according to John, who admits to killing her cavalier. John is probably lying about some or all of this - maybe Anastasia got too close to doing it right, and he couldn't risk all his secrets being unveiled, so he killed Samael in order to save face. Maybe if he'd let Samael live, they would have attained perfect Lyctorhood.

I'm reasonably certain that you can also attain Lyctorhood by fusing souls in the body of the cavalier. A current example of this is Gideon the First, and Pyrrha, who mentioned Gideon "took more", and he is described as unusually buff for a necromancer. Could it be that they attained Lyctorhood "in reverse", using Pyrrha's body? Or is their body an unholy fusion of the two bodies? It's not made entirely clear - Pyrrha refers to it as "his body", which leans towards the second option, but her eyes are described as suiting the face more, which favours the first.

It's said that the cavalier part of the Lyctors have no sense of self, only fighting muscle memory. I highly doubt that this is even a little bit true. It's at least partially untrue - Pyrrha is an example, as is Gideon the Ninth. What about Naberius, then? Alfred and Cristabel? What about Alecto?

(Alecto is a special case, again, we'll get to her.)

I'm fully not ruling out the possibility that the cavs are all still in there, and while the necro parts are dipping into the river to hunt revenants and make wards against Resurrection Beasts, the cavaliers in the bodies could easily be plotting. The cavaliers could all be on Eden's side, for all we know - we don't know where Pyrrha's allegiance lies. And we Know that all Lyctors have had dealings with them at some point. (I'm still very much expecting that to include Ianthe and Harrow, btw.)

I think all those times when the souls of the necromancers were in the River, the cavaliers were busy plotting with each other in their necromancers bodies.

All that aside - in what we see as "normal" Lyctorhood, the only visible part of the cavalier inside the necromancer's body are the eyes. This leads me to believe that Lyctorhood isn't just a fusing of souls, but a fusing of brains.

Anatomically, the eyes are a part of the brain. We've seen people with golden yellow and with lilac eyes, unusual colours for eyes to be. Could be a result of genetic altering? But in Lyctors, the eyes change, and in Ianthe's case, keep fluidly changing - in Harrow and Gideon's case, and evidently in Gideon and Pyrrha's, the eyes are an indicator of which soul is "present", awake.

Narratively, souls and brains are inherently linked. Brains and minds are basically interchangeable. In order to kill something - a planet; a revenant - you have to kill its body, and you have to destroy the brain in the river. You can go into the River as a mind only, or take your body with you. Oh, speaking of...

>> Next: The River

[heyclickadee]

Tech's Alive, Part Two: The Goggles, AKA Why, "No body, no death," Is Especially Applicable Here. (Content warning for discussions of death)

I think everyone's mentioned how suspicious it is that the only physical evidence we have for Tech's "death" are his goggles, which are presented to Hunter as evidence by Actual Rancid Potato Royce Hemlock. And I think everyone's also pointed out how suspicious it is that the only thing Hemlock could supposedly salvage is also the flimsiest part of Tech's kit--not any of Tech's armor, just his goggles. And that the goggles are actually in better condition than we might expect; the lenses are broken, sure, and the rims are a little banged up, but they aren't crushed, and the band is still intact. And since they're something Tech wore under his helmet, they're also something that couldn't have just come off, unless Tech's helmet was either knocked off (maybe possible) or removed. Either way, it implies that Hemlock is possibly either lying about the goggles being all he could salvage, and that he did find more, or that the goggles are the only physical evidence he has of Tech's death as well.

So, yes, Hemlock's untrustworthy, the goggles are weak physical evidence of Tech's death at best, but we ought to also look at Hemlock's character as well as his motivation for presenting that evidence. Hemlock is a sadistic son of a bitch who isn't just willing to use pain as leverage--he enjoys it. I mean, we all saw the way Hemlock gloated over Crosshair dropping in that cloud of toxic gas. We all saw the way he smiled when they started torturing Crosshair again. The man is cruel and twisted and, honestly, I don't think I've hated a Star Wars character more. If someone doesn’t kill him by the end of the series I’m going to climb into the tv and do it myself. 

Anyway. 

Tossing Tech's shattered goggles at Hunter's feet is torture. Those blasters held at Wrecker's head are torture, too. It's just that instead of using a literal torture droid, Hemlock is using Hunter's guilt and grief as a rack and thumbscrew to force Hunter to comply with his demands. He's banking on the idea that Hunter cares about his brothers and feels deeply responsible for everything that happens to them(1), that he's reeling from losing Tech, maybe even hoping he's still hurt from losing Crosshair, and that losing another brother--Wrecker--would be too much for him to handle. So he takes the knife in Hunter's chest and twists it. And, it works! To an extent, anyway. Hunter puts his blaster down, and allows Hemlock to take him prisoner. Would he have ever handed over Omega? Whatever Hunter did? No, but Hunter was also hoping that Omega had gotten away in the ship with Echo at that point.

But, anyway, the point is that Hemlock is using Hunter's emotional pain in order to get his way. And if the writers wanted to convince us that Tech was really dead and gone for good, they could have done so in a far more effective way that would have actually allowed Hemlock to twist the knife even harder.

Hemlock could have just had his men bring Tech's body out.

In fact, I suspect that Hemlock would have brought Tech's body out, if he had a body to show. The fact that he didn't tells me that he doesn't have one; he's either got Tech alive, or he found the goggles by themselves and doesn’t have any more physical evidence than we do.

And I'm guessing what you're thinking; it's a kids' show. They can't do that, that'd be way too gruesome, especially since, if Tech really did hit the ground at terminal velocity, his body would be too broken too show. Especially since Tech is a main character and someone we’ve spent two season with—they can’t show him like that. Of course, yes, that's true. So, they could have done what Star Wars typically does with bodies; show it at a slightly obscured angle, or completely intact, but limp. Crosshair spent the a lot of the last several minutes of The Outpost kneeling next to the body of a character he (and we) cared about. Or, to cut down even further on how graphic it could be, they could have brought him in on a stretcher, covered in a cloth, but with a hand sticking out from under it, so that we (and Hunter and Wrecker) know it's him. They could have even brought him out in a body bag, completely covered, and had Hunter look inside and informed us that it was Tech via Hunter's reaction. All of those things, especially the last two, would have been completely in line with the show's inexplicably intact TV-Y7 rating (seriously, how??), would have complied with Hemlock's characterization as well as his motivation for showing any evidence of Tech's death at all, and would have allowed the writers to actually convince the audience that Tech really is dead and gone for good.

Except that the writers didn't do that. Hemlock doesn't bring Tech's body out. Just the goggles. So we, the audience, are stuck with no body. No real physical evidence. And so, frankly, are Wrecker, Echo, Hunter, and Omega.

Because here's the other thing about the goggles: It's not just important that Hemlock's the one to bring out the goggles, or that that's all he brings out. It's also important that the batch didn't have the goggles in the first place.

You see, I don't think Hunter and the rest have seen Tech's body, either. Their train car crashed through the station on one of the higher peaks a good half mile or more away from where Tech fell, meaning that they would have had to climb down that mountain and up and around the smaller mountains and hills below the train line to find him, and that was something that would have taken time. That was time they didn't have. They basically had to get out of dodge pretty much immediately, because they were actively under attack, all seriously injured, and because Omega was DYING, so they had to get out and get her help as fast as they could. They didn't have time to even start to look for Tech(2).

Besides the urgency of needing to save Omega, though, the thing that really convinces me that Hunter, Wrecker, and Echo never actually saw Tech's body is that they didn't have the goggles in the first place. Had Omega woken up to Wrecker already cradling Tech's goggles in his hands, then I wouldn't be writing this. We wouldn't have seen the body, but we would have pretty concrete evidence that a character we trust had. And that still wouldn't have been completely concrete evidence, but it, again, would have been a way for the writers to convince the audience that Tech really is dead and gone for good.

But, again, the writers didn't do that. Instead, they pass over at least two opportunities to have shown us a body, or to have at least shown us that a character we trust saw a body, and leave us in a situation where the only physical evidence Tech's death is both inconclusive and presented by a character we've been given every reason to hate and distrust, and whose motivation is to use that evidence as a way to emotionally manipulate the heroes. Which means that they're either trying to convince us that he’s dead and really bad at their jobs, which is possible, to be fair; or they know exactly what they're doing and are giving us just enough ambiguity to latch onto once we get over the initial emotional shock.

(1): I think Hemlock could have sussed this out about clones in general just through observation, but...I am going to consider the possibility—the possibility, mind you!—that Crosshair did eventually break. Just a little bit. Not anything too specific, not anything willingly, but he might have let slip that Hunter cares a lot or something. And to be completely clear, if he did, I'm not going to blame him. It’s not his fault if he did. They probably tortured him for days.

(2) I do wonder if one or more of them may have thought that maybe, just maybe, Tech lived, but that they had to make the choice to leave anyway. And if they did? Leaving anyway to save Omega would have been the right thing to do. I don't have kids, but my sister does, and if we got in a car crash and she had to make the choice between checking to see if I was okay and saving her kid, saving her kid is exactly what I would want her to do.

(Tumblr give me a way to write footnotes, I am begging you.)

[mariana-oconnor]

The Veiled Lodger pt 2

Team Lion represent!

Poor lion deserved none of this.

Then, having reassured her, we followed her up the straight, badly-carpeted staircase and were shown into the room of the mysterious lodger.

Wow, Watson. You weren't satisfied with insulting her last time, now you're insulting her interior decor?

From keeping beasts in a cage, the woman seemed, by some retribution of Fate, to have become herself a beast in a cage.

Watson is also on Team Lion!

Long years of inaction had coarsened the lines of her figure, but at some period it must have been beautiful, and was still full and voluptuous. A thick dark veil covered her face, but it was cut off close at her upper lip, and disclosed a perfectly-shaped mouth and a delicately-rounded chin. I could well conceive that she had indeed been a very remarkable woman.

And then he's getting horny on main again, because he is Watson and we all know Watson has three settings with descriptions of people: horny, disgusted, and animal references.

"Because the fate of someone else depended upon it. I know that he was a very worthless being, and yet I would not have his destruction upon my conscience. We had been so close—so close!"

She was either having an affair or she has a secret relative. My money is on affair.

The woman rose and took from a drawer the photograph of a man. He was clearly a professional acrobat, a man of magnificent physique, taken with his huge arms folded across his swollen chest and a smile breaking from under his heavy moustache—the self-satisfied smile of the man of many conquests.

Oh yeah, Watson is in horny setting atm. But also judgy. You cannot tell how many 'conquests' a man has had from his smile, Watson. I refuse to believe it.

"That is Leonardo," she said.

Leonardo???!

Although, from the description, maybe it's closer to this version:

It was a dreadful face—a human pig, or rather a human wild boar, for it was formidable in its bestiality. One could imagine that vile mouth champing and foaming in its rage, and one could conceive those small, vicious eyes darting pure malignancy as they looked forth upon the world, Ruffian, bully, beast—it was all written on that heavy-jowled face.

Animal imagery and disgust. Watson's really pulling out all the stops for this one. I like how Mrs Ronder is just 'compare, contrast' right up front, instead of actually explaining anything. This is a show and tell presentation.

"He tied me down and lashed me with his riding-whip when I complained."

What is it with these abusive spouses and beating their wives with riding crops? That's the sort of thing you only do after extensive discussion and clear, informed consent.

Welp, Team Lion is currently winning.

"We planned that he should die."

Oh, it was premeditated. Good for you.

"We made a club—Leonardo made it—and in the leaden head he fastened five long steel nails, the points outwards, with just such a spread as the lion's paw. This was to give my husband his death-blow, and yet to leave the evidence that it was the lion which we would loose who had done the deed."

Look, look, look, look. I am fine with killing the evil, abusive husband. Two thumbs up. Could not be more onboard with this plan. But blaming the lion. You couldn't have come up with a plan that didn't involve a poor animal being implicated and (presumably) put down because of it?

Come up with a different way of killing him and just give each other alibis. Don't blame the poor lion.

"Its hot, filthy breath had already poisoned me and I was hardly conscious of pain."

I... don't think lions have poison breath. Like I've never met one in real life, but I feel like I might have heard about that if it's true. And I especially don't think their breath is bad enough that you can't feel the pain from having your face eaten off. Not that I've ever experienced that either. I think it might have been the shock.

"When I came to myself, and saw myself in the mirror, I cursed that lion—oh, how I cursed him!—-not because he had torn away my beauty, but because he had not torn away my life."

I mean, understandable, but also you did keep him trapped in a cage, force him to perform for crowds and then frame him for murder, which I assume he was killed for. Like... you may have deserved just a leeeeettle bit of mauling. Karmically. Perhaps.

Then Holmes stretched out his long arm and patted her hand with such a show of sympathy as I had seldom known him to exhibit. "Poor girl!" he said. "Poor girl! The ways of Fate are indeed hard to understand. If there is not some compensation hereafter, then the world is a cruel jest."

I don't know why Watson is so determined to tell us that Holmes rarely shows sympathy when he shows sympathy in almost every other story. He shows sympathy to the characters who deserve sympathy.

And Eugenia here does deserve it, although it was a dick move to frame the lion. Her life has pretty much sucked. Can't blame her for trying to get out of it.

"Your life is not your own," he said. "Keep your hands off it."

Well, my last sentence was not supposed to be foreshadowing.

Holmes is not here for that Romeo and Juliet bullshit. (Not that this is about Leonardo dying, but still)

Although if she's already dying, would this be considered closer to euthanasia?

But she implies the reason she wants to do it is because of her face. I'm glad that Holmes is having none of that. The attitudes here towards her scarring are just all over horrendous. But I'm so glad this story ends with her choosing not to do it, because the message of 'if you are a woman who has lost her beauty and become disfigured your life is not worth living' would have been a horrible one. Glad they avoided that ending.

That was... short, and very messy. I'm glad she got out of the abusive situation, but I wish she'd actually been able to do something with her life rather than shut herself in her rooms forever to hide from the world. I'm also sad the lion had to die for her freedom.

Just very sad all over, this one.

[the-bar-sinister]

Have you played the AA Investigations games? If yes, what did you think of them? Sadly I was only able to play for myself the first one (I couldn't make the translation patch for the second one work :( ), and let's just say that the novelty of playing as Edgeworth wore off quickly lol. The second one was much more ambitious with some stellar character arcs and a memorable final villain, but of course it's still stuck in "only in Japan" limbo...

Yes! We played both Investigations, and Investigations 2 (fan patch) about 10 years ago. Currently, we're in the middle of watching a letsplay/fandub of the games because uh, yeah. We're not going to play through them again. They're the worst 'games'-- NOT the worst stories– in the AA series.

I definitely can't blame you for saying the novelty wore off quickly. Investigations has some serious flaws as a game and in structure. Which is an absolute shame, because the characters and stories are some of my favorites.

I absolutely adore Detective Badd, Agent Lang, Shih-Nah, and Kay Faraday from the first game, and Sebastian Debeste and Justine Courtney from the second game are some of my favorite characters in the whole series.

It's also absolutely fantastic to get to see more of Miles and Gumshoe together. I just love them as a mystery solving pair. They have such delightful energy. It probably helps that I'm a gumworth shipper from way back of course XD

But frankly, the fantastic characters, interesting worldbuilding and good stories absolutely can't save the Investigations series from its faults.

Problems with Ace Attorney Investigations

the need for the narrative to telegraph to the player how to solve problems, and forcing the player to painstakingly go through each of Miles' thought processes as a game mechanic has the opposite of the intended effect. Instead of making the player feel clever it makes Miles Edgeworth seem, very, very stupid and slow.

logic chess (from the second game) is agonizing. It's a great character bit for Egdeworth, having him conceive every logical problem as a chess problem, but its a fucking agonizing game mechanic.

circular reasoning. Every case is way too long, and it goes around in circles. I feel like this is a result of the "trial" phases being outside the court and thus having no real mediator. It's very true to life because people are going to "nu-uh" for as long as they can, but, realistic or not, t's agonizing to explain the same things to characters over and over and over.

connected to the above, all of the cases are too long, and also some of the logical leaps that the games expect you to make are some of the worst in the series. From Apollo Justice onward the games got a lot better about having a clear line of logic for where you're supposed to present evidence. Investigations and investigations 2 are just fucking guesswork.

So yeah while I definitely think these games are fantastic lore and character wise and worth experiencing, they are absolutely aggravating to play. My personal suggestion for anyone who wants to experience them is to pick a lets play/walkthrough video of their favorite variety (commentary, dub, no commentary) and enjoy them without having to worry about the terrible fucking gameplay.

[peachjagiya]

https://www.tumblr.com/peachjagiya/747891487375753216/im-not-a-shipper-and-definitely-in-no-way-a-jkkr

I hope you don’t see this as me being combative. I am honestly just trying to understand something.

I am aware that not everything the members tell fans is the truth and i certainly know that sometimes they will flat out lie or tell half truths to protect their privacy and themselves and I 100% get that. What i don’t get though is why they would lie about not seeing each other? Also, why do you get to pick and choose what you think is a lie and what you think is the truth? Isn’t it possible that they could also lie about things that reinforce your belief? I would not expect them to admit to things that could clearly out them as a couple but there are just certain instances where there is no point in lying. For example, on Jk’s birthday in 2022, Jin went over to his place and started naming all members and asking if they had come to greet Jk and Jk said Hobi and Jimin came over and when Jin asked about Tae, Jk said he didn’t come. In this case why would Jk lie? He could just group tae in with the rest who came and that wouldn’t be weird or suspicious would it?

The example you gave about Jk and sex don’t really fall in line with what i am saying. Jk never said he has never dated did he? He didn’t even say he isn’t dating, he said he doesn’t have a girlfriend but not having a girlfriend at that particular point in time doesn’t mean he never had one. He knew the implications of saying he knows everthing he has to know yet he still made it clear that at the moment, he didn’t need a girlfriend and just wanted to concentrate on work.

You don’t have any concrete proof that your ship is real, all you have are moments and the things they say. If you begin to doubt everything they say unless it is something that reinforces your belief then don’t you think that is a problem? You cannot decide that they lied just because they said something you didn’t want to hear. Besides why would Tae be able to openly tell everyone Jk sings a song for him yet he can’t admit that he saw Jk on his birthday? Or why would Jk be able to tell everyone that Tae heard his song first yet he lies about knowing where Tae is? You see how you pick and choose? If you really believe that they lie about simple things like this to protect themselves or not out themselves then why would Tae post a facetime pic of himself and jk both shirtless knowing that a huge part of this fandom ships them? I don’t think it makes sense.

Not combative at all. It's fair points.

I mean... Maybe Tae just didn't see him on his birthday. And maybe that's not a problem? Maybe Tae had other plans for celebrating with JK? Like we don't know but I know a ton of people who simply don't value their birthday. I've not seen my wife on her birthday every single year.

I don't always take it as face value if it benefits Taekook either to be honest. In the more personal lives, yes for sure.

But if it's true that we're not supposed to think of them as even close, and there's evidence to suggest that's how it's been presented, if they're saying they are close, I do pay attention to that. Because it's not the company line and there's no benefit to lying.

2018, JK has a mental health situation.

2018, Tae has a mental health situation.

Jin, I cannot remember when but it doesn't matter: "Jungkook wasn't talking to any members"

2018 Festa: "I received the text" "the other text was to me"

2023 Suchwita: "Me and Jungkook were reading those texts together."

Conclusion: JK was talking to one of the members. But Jin couldn't say "he wasn't talking to anyone except Taehyung."

Jin isn't a liar. Jin is either unaware or leaving that detail out. Either way...? There's Taekook stuff they're either unaware of or aware of but omitting.

Slowly the bigger picture is revealed. All Tae does is expand upon what we already knew and fill in what was left out. So I do tend to listen more to those extra details, yeah.

As for why they'd ever say anything about their relationship... I think they've been braver with the freedom of hiatus and I also don't expect them to be able to hide it without going slightly insane.

[tomothysturridge]

Gestalt, Leopold/Loeb, & Like Minds

Once again, Like Minds (2006) is sticky in my brain. This time because if we take the movie’s explanation of Gestalt as a framework from which to view Nigel/Alex and the very clear subtextual comparison to Leopold and Loeb (they come up twice in Sally’s research) then the idea that Alex is an entirely innocent party falls apart entirely and if the writing wasn’t so against a woman being right, Sally should have realized this.

Not to bring up how Alex’s “Nigel’s death was a means to an end” comment should have been a fat clue again but mentioning that in conjunction with Gestalt should have clued her into the fact that what Alex meant was Nigel’s death was a moving part in the larger, more import whole of what they were trying to achieve. At some point before the trigger was pulled, either one or both of them had to have realized that — you could argue Nigel realized it in the moment and Alex only saw it after but in conjunction with everything else it’s hard to believe Alex was that slow to the punch.

This also leads me to another point: Nigel, at least at the beginning of the encounter at Casa Colbie has no intention of dying — he wants his Maraclea, that's why set the whole thing up, so why does he end up dead at the end of the night? If I'm being honest, my little conspiracy is that Alex realized before Nigel did that he had to die. Maybe he realized Nigel was truly his Maraclea (but that’s a topic for another day). Alternatively, perhaps one or both of them realized that they had to “become one” as Nigel puts it in order to be at their fullest potential. It is heavily implied in the film that Nigel is still “haunting” Alex. He can still hear him and feel him. If this is the case, Alex is both the unprincipled man and he has the implement for killing in his head. They can no longer be separated, they are one.

Also if we just map them onto Leopold and Loeb, it’s clear that Alex’s version of events want us to view Nigel as Leopold, the ‘dominant’ partner in the gestalt relationship and Alex as ‘Loeb.” Leopold is the one who believed that he and Loeb had some great destiny BUT if we look at the empirical evidence we are given, Alex is, function wise, the Leopold in the situation. He is the “unprincipled man” where Nigel is just the “implement for killing.” Also the only thing we are told by Alex that Nigel said that it is provable (Sally found the notebook) that he said is that entry on Alex in his notebook in which he accuses Alex of having delusions of grandeur. So let's take Nigel's only actual words at face value here -- If it is true that Alex in fact does possess delusions of grandeur as Nigel said, then that makes him much more like Leopold. Loeb also notoriously saw himself as a “submissive” partner to Leopold and wanted to be dominated by him. Similarly, Nigel seeks direction from Alex and sees himself merely as a “spade.”

All this is to say that I do not believe for a second that Alex is innocent of their crimes because when you dig into subtext of gestalt as presented in the movie and the irl case that the movie is based on, it is so damn hard to believe he is. I think this is the puzzle he wanted Sally to solve but she couldn't because of her bad writing.

This is also all very gay. Leopold and Loeb were very gay but again, that's a topic for another day.

[notsosilentsister]

Anatomy of a Fall (Justine Triet, 2023)

I find myself wanting to talk about this film like the characters in it are real people, which can be the mark of a story that has accomplished its aims. So the question is, did she do it? What do I think, what are we supposed to think?

I think we're supposed to think it's ambiguous. The climax is all about the son making a choice - it's clearly not an easy one for him. He isn't just telling the truth. He's - if not inventing entirely - embellishing, at least. The testimony might not provide much admissible evidence, but emotionally, it's too neat of a resolution, fits too well with the lawyer's characterisation of the husband. So well that at first I thought, sure, this has to be true, how could a kid have come up with this? But of course this is the kid of two writers. He cannot know if his mother is innocent, but he decides to save her anyway.

Sandra herself doesn't agree with her lawyer's characterization of her husband. She tells him right in court, where others might hear, when that's the pillar of his defense, undermining her own best shot at being exculpated. (Are we supposed to think she is at a real risk of being found guilty? I don't know enough about French courts to evaluate that, but I would normally assume there's not much of a case, the accusation is based on too much conjecture. But that's not truly what's at stake here, isn't it, the real stakes are about losing her child's trust and love. The suspense of the court's verdict might be taking artistic licence to dramatize the suspense of the child's verdict.)

Sandra has enough of a self preservation instinct to lie about the bruise, but she hesitates to support the suicide theory. She still doesn't seem to be entirely on board even after she herself has disclosed her husband's first suicide attempt. She's muddling her own story, and it does seem like a mark of counter-productive honesty. It could be manipulation - maybe making her lawyer think she's innocent is just as, if not more, important to her as proving her innocence in court? But it does seem genuine to me. Sandra is presented as someone who almost can't help her honesty. She's straightforward, blunt, she won't smile at her husband's friends, when she's not feeling it, she's showing her true colours, even if it costs her.

I declared Sandra innocent in my mind pretty early in the proceedings, I just couldn't buy the motive. A fit of rage? I kinda never buy that as an explanation, killing seems often like a fairly drawn-out-affair, where you have to commit to see it through, and it certainly does seem so in the scenario presented, where she would have to lift his legs over the windowsill. Like, I could sometimes see someone inadvertently killing a victim they just intended to scare, because they misjudged their power, but it's also hard to see that as a strategy Sandra would use in this scenario. My guess is that fatal domestic violence (without financial motive) is usually either habitual intimidation with miscalculated impact, a honor killing, or the last resort of a cornered animal. And those other options also don't seem to fit Sandra, whose honor doesn't rely on controlling her husband and who always seems to have plenty of agency - if she's unhappy in her marriage, she speaks her mind, she takes a lover; if she's unhappy enough, why wouldn't she just get a divorce?

But isn't that just the textbook mistake? To believe that a strong woman like Sandra would not get trapped in an abusive relationship? (She always seems to have plenty of agency - except when he's ruining her interview with his awful music, and she can't just tell him to shut it off..). Because that husband sure is a piece of work. I'm immediately predisposed against him, before he's even shown on the scene, with his first aural emantion. I grieve for him, when I see the grief of his child. And then he's on my eternal shitlist again, when he accuses his wife of always forcing others to meet her on her own territory, when he's just roped her into moving to his home-town. Because he has to speak English with her instead of his native tongue French, when she doesn't get to speak her native tongue German to him either! The gall of it! Shit's so transparent, it's adding insult to injury.

So the husand certainly _tries_to trap her, in isolation, in guilt, but doesn't she see through it, when she reads him for filth in that climactic altercation? Shouldn't that be enough to break the spell? Would she have to resort to violence to escape?

For what it's worth, I think the laywer's theory is much more likely. Husband tries it, and fails, and sees that his guilt trips won't work on her much longer. He's the one who's cornered. And I wouldn't put it past him to pull a Gone Girl and choose his exit in a way that frames the wife he blames for all his miseries. Vindictive self-destruction. Also fits well with the injuries to his knuckles and the holes in the walls, for which we do, after all, see objective evidence. But maybe I would believe any theory presented by Swann Arlaud (who, since we're talking about imagining animals' heads on people's bodies, obviously looks like a stoat. A beautiful stoat. I've been keenly waiting for Sandra Hüller to say it in that last scene they have together, when she cradles his head and looks deep into his eyes. But this film is really all about witholding resolution.)

[thelunarfairy]

Hello! Greetings from the Philippines! Really love your theories and analysis, especially about the Yugi Twin's past. I'm really embarrassed to share this dumb theory of mine but I think Sakura might be a former kannagi once. I mean there's no evidence about it if it's true but I'm thinking of the possibilities that Sakura might have been a kannagi who manages to escape but still got trapped in the school or maybe she already met Tsukasa he was still in the Red House after he sacrificed himself for his brother idk. I mean Katakuri confirmed that Tsukasa was underneath the Red House with them before he manages to get out so there might be no surprises if some kannagis had managed to escape too. Maybe she even made a wish to Tsukasa earlier than we thought and he only starts to fullfill it when Nene started became Hanako's assistant. I really want to know your thoughts about this theory even if it's dumb and has no concrete evidence. I am so sorry for my ramblings and for bothering you. But I really enjoyed reading your posts! (Sorry for my bad English)

Hello!!! A big hug to the Philippines from Brazil! 💕

Awww I'm glad to know you liked the theories

Don't be embarrassed, and don't think your theory is dumb, we always have to consider all hypotheses! I only rule it out when there really is no possibility of it being that and it has already been proven XD

Well, I've already thought about this possibility, and it makes sense. We know almost nothing about Sakura, except that she had a long life, if we can call it a "life".

Katakuri has been there a long time, he probably has a long time behind him. He was from the village, he kept a youthful appearance, but he was certainly very old when he met Nene.

Sakura doesn't seem like someone who died, she's not a ghost, she doesn't float, like the twins. She is also seen by the other students. Apparently the kannagis are alive, like little Tsukasa who still had a pulse.

Considering that Tsukasa became a ghost when Amane killed him, it means that before he was still alive, but he wasn't just a human, he had already become a supernatural due to having fused with that thing.

It could be that Sakura went through the same process, she has 100 years behind her, Tsukasa has 50. And for both of them to meet, it had to be in the red house. So they met there.

Tsukasa couldn't leave the house, and if Sakura is over a hundred years old (because she's been waiting for her wish to come true for a hundred years, it means she was already the age corresponding to her current appearance) it means she was there at the time of village (or nearby).

Let's consider this, we don't know how long that village has existed, but it seems to date back to the feudal era. So, there is a long period between the time of the village and the present, Sakura may have served as a sacrifice in the meantime, before Tsukasa. Katakuri confirmed that Tsukasa was the last one after him.

Sakura would be angry, as would the other kannagis, who screamed that it was unforgivable. So, she decided to end everything, and made this request to Tsukasa.

This was at some point when the seals were created, let's remember that Sakura has been waiting for this wish for a hundred years.

A vengeful Kannagi who doesn't care about anyone because no one cared about her. Nothing more just.

Everything in this theory has the issue of time, if she was Kannagi, she was sacrificed more than 100 years ago, she found Tsukasa a few years later and made the request to him (imagining that the seals had already been placed)

Sakura didn't go crazy like the other Kannagis because it must have taken longer. Katakuri was from the village's time (close to its destruction) and didn't go crazy.

She is also trapped in the school, which was built above this village, according to Teru. If she was sacrificed there, it makes sense that she would be stuck at the school.

So, analyzing your theory, it makes sense and there is a possibility that it is one of the correct options.

There are some facts that go against this theory, such as her being apathetic towards Sumire's situation, who theoretically experienced the same thing as her. The fact that she made a wish to Tsukasa, who only grants wishes to dead people.

But don't worry, it happens with all theories, Aidairo likes oppositions, there's always one or two pieces missing. We have some doubts, such as whether Sakura has any power or not, what she wants to sacrifice for her desire (probably Nene).

Anyway, I liked your theory and it makes sense to me, it matches a lot of information and gaps in the story. But of course, we will wait for more information and clues to have some idea of whether we are going in the right direction.

And don't worry, you don't bother me 💕

[tobiasdrake]

We understand the What. But there's still much more ground to cover.

Oh shit, that's a good point Yuma. I can't believe I didn't think of that. That means we can eliminate Iruka from the suspect pool entirely, since she made the fucking thing.

It can only be Icardi. No other killer is possible.

I didn't get the impression that it was his idea. I don't think he ordered a custom gun. I think Iruka made him a gun and he as like. "Uh. Yeah. Thanks." in that civil tone you use when you don't want to hurt someone's feelings.

It was pretty clear from his behavior that he wanted nothing to do with the thing.

Yuma knows what's up. Iruka designed the gun for Shachi because she's a gun nut and thought it'd be a great present for him. Given that it was then used to shoot him, this was a terrible mistake. Gun culture, amirite?

This, in turn, proves that Iruka - One of only two people of the appropriate height and location to have fired that gun - is out-of-the-question as his killer.

Bestie, we are solving a case here. You can ship the Persons of Interest once we've cracked the mystery.

Roof of the hideout, of course. We already talked about this. There's only one place it could have happened. As difficult as it is to believe that a person was up on that roof with Shachi and then mysteriously vanished, it is the only thing that can be true.

This is basically a freebie. The important question isn't, "Where was the killer?" The question is "Where did they go?"

That means they had to vanish fast. They couldn't go down the emergency stairs or through the door.

Unfortunately, we never got a chance to investigate the rubble behind the building, from where the potentially evidence-concealing bombing took place. And I didn't remember to get a peek at the space between buildings. So it's possible there was a body of water for Icardi to dive into. But we can't just make up evidence like that.

Oh good, an opportunity to rectify my mistake. You can even see the blood spray I was talking about, and how it could only have come from "southwest".

Yuma, do me a solid and look down between the buildings real quick.

There is a body of water down there. You can reach the flooded city below from here. But it'd be a hell of a trick to pull off with that giant pipe in the way, even for a professional diver.

What's particularly interesting about the method of escape isn't just that they didn't use the emergency stairs. It's that they didn't intend to use the stairs. They didn't know we were coming. When they shot Shachi, the next course of action should have been to run to the stairs, bump into us, and go, "WHOOPSY DOODLE I'm busted!"

It's possible they didn't do that because they heard us clambering up the emergency stairs, though. But either way, they had a third avenue of exit already planned out in advance. They knew, going into this, that they couldn't trust the stairs or the door; That they couldn't just leave and had to instead vanish. Probably because they anticipated the place swarming with Peacekeepers after that bombing stunt.

Since I think we can safely assume they did not leap between the buildings and then break their collarbone on the pipe, that leaves only the rubble behind the building as the key to our mystery.

Without knowing what they destroyed, we can't solve the escape method. I guess we do have a use for Shinigami's Revisit Crime Scene ability.

I want to go back to when we first showed up on the rooftop. To see what the back of the building looked like then.

Nothing that's visible from the rooftop. That's because the key to our mystery isn't on the rooftop.

And there's the smoking gun.

Icardi removed the grate from the storm drain so that he could make a high-altitude dive into the hydro-electric channels below. He shot Shachi and then made his great leap. Then he swam through the channel into the power plant and disappeared into the flooded Marunomon District.

And that is the truth behind Who and How. Though Why remains unsolved. The most plausible reason is that Icardi (and Servan, who had to be in on the terrorism plot with him) was working with the Peacekeepers. But if Icardi was a pig in a blanket then he wouldn't need to premeditate an elaborate escape method like this.

The alternative is that Icardi and Servan killed Shachi because they didn't want his pacifism holding them back. That they were more violent revolutionaries trying to strike a spark.

But then it's weird that they'd play Terrorism Minigames with Yuma instead of, like, carrying out real bombings. Still can't make heads or tails of what that was about.

We should note here that, since they planned to intentionally provoke CTU, it's conspicuous that Margulaw excused himself and left the district before it could become flooded with cops. That doesn't necessarily mean he's a co-conspirator but it's a bad look.

And we all know the one person who could make that dive.

Don't worry, bestie. Only two, maybe three of them.

Ha! They're standing in Most to Least Suspicious order right now. Servan isn't the killer but he had to be involved in the bombing plot. Margulaw has no reason to suspect him of conspiracy but it's suspicious that he left. Iruka is totally clean; She wouldn't have let Icardi make that stupid right hand/left hand mistake.

In what sounded very much like Icardi's voice, giving him away.

That would explain why Shachi didn't go out the front door, yeah. It was super weird that he went to the roof when he was trying to flee the police.

Maybe that's why he left the key in the lock? It might make the lock sturdier somehow? I dunno. That's still weird to me.

It's funny that I finally pegged the right killer on the mystery I had the most trouble piecing together.