#which even after reincarnation its effect still holds

[intriq]

✧ Starfall

contents: more angst, the "in another life" trope

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Zhongli knew that falling in love was going to be hard for him, considering he was an Archon who could at any moment suffer the dire effects of erosion.

Not to mention he’d likely outlive any lover he had.

But yet, when he’d come across you in his early years as a young god during the Archon War, you had already settled down in life. In that lifetime, Zhongli only admired you, and did not think it would be right of him to fall further for you.

So he spent his youth making sure the home you’d made, now lost to time among the now bustling Liyue Harbor, having been built over for centuries, was safe. You never once suffered the effects of the Archon War, and was among the first to settle in the now present-time Liyue Harbor.

A few thousand years later, during the fall of Khaenri’ah, he’d met you again. And this time, you were still within your youth, likely your mid to late 20’s, looking almost exactly alike to the you in your previous life.

So he allowed himself to fall for you after just doing a bit of work to find information on whether or not you were in love already.

And when it was confirmed you had yet to fall for anyone, he swooped in to take you for himself.

A risky endeavor, considering you would only be a fleeting existence in his eternal life, and he treasured you greatly. Anything you could ever want, he would bring you. Anywhere you wished to be, he would bring you.

And whenever you’d need him by your side, he was there, your hand gently cradled in his.

And before Zhongli had known it, he had fallen for you so greatly that he could not imagine existing without you. He was almost desperate, wanting so desperately to make you a god yourself that you would always be with him.

But for a human to become a god was impossible.

And when Kheanri’ah was destroyed, he rushed to your aide as the swarms of monsters came. He rushed as fast as he could, hurrying to your aide as Liyue held its own, making the swarm follow them back into the Chasm, causing the soldiers and the one Yaksha inside to be lost.

But that did not hold any weight in Zhongli’s heart, as he’d so desperately abandoned Liyue’s army to rush back to your side, to make sure you were safe.

And when he did return, his sight was greeted by your home nothing but a charred crisp, with a trail of blood from the charred door at the front to you.

You were leaned against a large rock, and blood pooled beneath you, and the sight made Zhongli instantly fall to his knees by your side.

His blood in that instant was as cold as your lifeless body, and you almost looked to be peacefully sleeping, if it were not for the wounds on your body.

His hands tremble as he holds you in his arms, one hand shaking terribly as it moves up to cup your face. He calls your name, his thumb running over your cheek as he hopes your just sleeping, hoping to delude himself as to your true fate.

He pulls your lifeless body closer to his chest, his head hanging as he weeps, still calling out your name over and over until his voice is hoarse and his throat raw.

After many hours when he is no longer able to cry and no longer able to call your name, he buries you. And after you are buried, he erects a mountain above your gravesite, a mountain which is now known as Qingyun Peak. The abodes of his adeptus rest around it, guarding your gravesite.

And now, five-hundred years later, his heart still bitter of your loss, he is stunned to discover you.

He was sitting at Third-Round Knockout when he’d heard your voice. Despite hearing you many years ago, it still rings clear as day in his mind, his heart recognizing it instantly. His head turns, almost dropping the cup of tea in his hands as his gaze locks on you.

Even despite this being probably your third or more reincarnation, he knows its you. He knows it, for you have the same hair, the same face. Everything about the way you looked and acted was the same.

But most of all, your voice was the same.

He practically jumps out of his seat, his cup of tea long abandoned on the table now. And as he approaches he freezes as he hears you speak and show your hand to the friend you were with.

A ring glints in the light as he stops, his gaze locked on it. You were engaged.

You had fallen in love before he could find you again, and his heart is torn.

The greeting he was going to give you doesn’t make it past his lips as he can only watch you walk away with your friend, gushing with a voice so full of love about your fiancé. A voice that he wished could only be for him.

His hands clench into fists as he watches you disappear, the wound in his heart opening as he is reminded of the pain he’d felt when he’d discovered your dead body in your previous life.

In this life, you were meant to be with another. He could only hope that in another couple hundred years, he’d be still left alone by erosion so he could fall in love with you again before anyone else could.

And so, he turns, departing the center of Liyue Harbor as he tries to console himself. A few hundred years would go by quickly, he hopes. He could wait that long. After all, he waited five-hundred years to see you again.

He could try to be patient once more.

[eorzeashan]

It's time for more Bride of Jadus headcanons! (i.e. a role I never elaborated on as much as I could've since it was a nickname that didn't carry as much authority as the Hand pre-Intelligence, and Eight hadn't tapped into its esotericism yet).

What is the Bride? Who are they?

Jadus' mysterious consort, alleged wife, and mother to Zhorrid, whom we never see and who is never mentioned once through the game despite the existence of Jadus' daughter. One would find it interesting that such a prominent figure in Darth Jadus' life would have little to no explanation to her conception, and given the Sith Empire's obsession with bloodlines, a daughter with no ties to her birth is hard to fathom-- so it became my headcanon that the public created a myth surrounding Jadus' nonexistent wife from the rumor mill that he had murdered Zhorrid's mother and disposed of her. Given Jadus' frightening reputation, the rumors got out of hand after a manic diplomat fled out of Jadus' compound claiming that he'd seen the bride of Jadus haunting the halls-- a veritable lady in black, weeping inconsolably at the loss of her life at the hand of her beloved, yet married eternally to the dark side which her husband sacrificed her to.

Whether this was a side-effect of exposure to Jadus' potent aura of fear still hasn't been debunked, but the urban myth has taken root in many a Dromund Kaasi citizen. Even those who staunchly disbelieve in ghosts...

Jadus himself has failed to comment, perhaps finding benefit in having little questions about his personal life and creating an extra layer of intimidation without much work.

Association with the new Hand

The conflation of the Bride with Eight began when he committed himself more to Jadus, especially when wearing a veil over his uniform as a sign of trust and a symbol of his loyalty to the Darth, leading some to mockingly call him so because of his similar appearance to a grieving widow covered head-to-toe in black mourning garb.

The mocking turned to respect, and then to fear as the new Hand's achievements grew deadlier by the cycle, as did his reputation, and soon enough began the continuation of the myth of Jadus' Bride-- reincarnated as a spirit of vengeance through a new vessel, returned from the dead to exact her revenge on Jadus' enemies. *It is noted this clashes with the original story that paints Jadus as her murderer, which lead some groups to argue over whether Jadus had her killed or Jadus' enemies did. What many agree on is that the new Hand appeared to play along with her role, down to the very part of being affectionate with the dark lord to the shock of his advisors.

Post-Zakuul Rise to Power

While the Bride remained an urban myth in the days of the Sith Empire, it was only after Jadus' reclusion and the fall of the Eternal Empire when the Bride became a more prominent role than the role of Hand for a Lord who seemed like he would never return.

To the surprise of the Dark Council, the Hand of Jadus had secretly been inside the Alliance the whole time, and it was its steady decline that saw them finally return to the Empire hale and whole. As if not a day had passed, they voiced Jadus' authority to reclaim his holdings and remnant power and promptly set about to maintaining it, though they expressed no desire to politick at the time. Moved by the return of the highest servant to their master, Jadus' remaining cultists resurged and gathered around the Hand, with the cult adopting him as their de facto leader and herald. Outside parties theorize that the cult believes him to actually be the Bride which they've semi-deified, and that his return was a miracle sent by their dark lord to lead them out of these dark times.

The Hand himself made no comment on recent cult activities, though his refusal to confirm or deny involvement furthered suspicions.

Cementation as Cult Figure (aka the part where admin tries to explain more character design development bc they can't draw)

As seen above, Eight wears a short veil that covers his eyes with his operative suit when he relies on the Force bond between him and Jadus to guide him where his physical eyes can't. While this was an effective and simple way to mimic the facelessness of his lord and represent him, more recent times would see his appearance slightly changed.

With the cult now following him and the role as Bride overtaking his role as Hand, an extra cathedral-length train was added to the veil which could be unpinned if needed. The extreme extension of the veil was meant to reflect being eternally wedded to Jadus/the darkside as a bridal veil, while retaining its double-meaning as widower's mourning garb. Though the former Hand expressed its ceremonial ornamentation and editing was a fashionable yet unnecessary gift from the cult, the aesthetic symbolism seemed to drive his cultists into an even greater religious fervour, with even the public calling him more Bride than Hand in present day.

[Admin notes: I tried to find the exact type of veil I was trying to convey but got lost in a myriad of google images. I imagine it's a hybrid between the veil pictured and a really REALLY long mantilla that is embroidered with even more gold and iconography of Jadus himself on the back, but I am not an art person.

Also got more into spooky month with extending the original ghost tale and mixing it with an agent's alias/urban myth, which I think shows how false cover stories and ghost stories can be the same. I've also noticed that most agents have an incredibly weak link to the Sith/darkside/the Force, so Eight's HoJ self is me testing out how much an agent can be involved in those things without being force-sensitive.]

[askmerriauthor]

I'm still trying to puzzle out the timeline implications of ToTK, but I rather like what the story does for the overall LOZ timeline as a concept. Spoiler talk, so more after the break.

I've always liked the approach BoTW took where it basically gathered up all the games in one big bundle and said "maybe these happened, maybe they didn't, but it was like 10,000 years ago and it doesn't matter anymore". Literally making the previous Legend of Zelda games into legends in-universe. There's combined traces of all the games, be they direct references or sidelong allusions that make it seem like that element might've been lost in translation, or the version we originally saw was incorrect in the first place.

So far ToTK does seem to anchor certain concepts in stone, however, but others are very much brought into question.

Skyward Sword is Core Canon While the actual events of Skyward Sword in terms of its overall presentation are up to debate, there are facets of it that seem to be hard-baked into the game's lore now. Namely Fi and the divine origins of both Zelda as the incarnation of Hylia as well as the Master Sword. ToTK actively refers to the Master Sword as "she" and the sword makes Fi's prompting noise a number of times, so it's safe to say Fi's still in there after all this time.

The actual state of things with Demise, however, seems a bit less clear now. Skyward Sword told us a tale of how Demise - an original ancient evil demon from before the dawn of time - cursed Link and Zelda's bloodlines to always be in conflict with his reincarnations. The evil pollutant effect Demise had on the world, Malice, was overtly present and utilized in BoTW by Calamity Ganon. It was what brought on the end of Hylian civilization a century before the events of the game. But the overt parallels between Demise and ToTK Ganondorf raise the question of whether there ever was a Demise in the first place? Or was Demise an exaggeration of Ganondorf's ascension into the Demon King via the Secret Stone? Or is Ganondorf's nature as the Demon King directly the result of Demise and his curse?

There's also a mix up with Calamity Ganon to consider. Previously, I was under the impression that Calamity Ganon was the same OoT Ganondorf who'd eventually degraded over time and multiple revivals, turning into the mindless force of destruction we saw in BoTW. But ToTK makes it clear Ganondorf was perfectly fine, albeit dehydrated and locked beneath Hyrule Castle. Malice and Gloom are pretty obviously the same thing, and Gloom was freely seeping across the land even before the Upheaval occurred, so it's not like Ganondorf was fully contained even in his sealed state. While running around ToTK Hyrule, we often encounter Gloom Hands and a Phantom Ganon doppelganger. That gives me the impression that Calamity Ganon was just a similar phenomenon: as the time neared where the seal would break entirely, Ganondorf was able to exude enough force to manifest it and attack Hyrule on instinct. But any notions of Calamity Ganon being an individual itself made by the Hylians were misattributed.

Did OoT Actually Happen? Something very confusing/interesting in the flashbacks of ToTK is that it basically retells the events of OoT in a different frame. Ganondorf, the ruler of the Gerudo, deceiving the King of Hyrule by pretending to swear allegiance while in pursuit of an ancient, divine relic the Royal Family and the Sages hold safe. Called out by the young Princess Zelda. But Ganondorf succeeds in his efforts and Hyrule is thrown into an age of turmoil where monsters roam the world, only to be ultimately defeated by the efforts of the Sages and a foretold Hero in the distant future.

The events of Rauru sealing away Ganondorf were explicitly stated as The Imprisoning War, which was previously established as happening after OoT in an alternate timeline scenario where Link failed to stop Ganondorf. Given that Link didn't exist at all prior to Ganondorf's arrival and ascension into the Demon King, it feels to me as if ToTK is shifting OoT - and thus Majora's Mask - fully into legend. It also raises the question of whether there was ever a split Triforce, or if that too was just a misinterpretation of past events. The Triforce didn't feature in any way whatsoever within ToTK; it's not even mentioned or seen once. Ganondorf coveted and gained power through a completely different relic. In BoTW, Zelda seemed to innately have the complete Triforce by way of birth, passed down through her divine bloodline. Presumably Zelda still has it, or the Triforce itself is simply a symbolic manifestation of her divine powers outright rather than a physical relic that can be taken.

Who are Din, Nayru, Farore, and the Other Divines? So ToTK introduces the concept of "draconification" where devouring a Secret Stone turns a person into an immortal serpent dragon. We see this in practice in the game, and in BoTW we're introduced to a trio of such dragons who have names similar to those of the Three Goddesses. Mineru is very much aware of the process and what its consequences are, so that indicates that draconification was performed prior to her arrival in Hyrule. Is this meant to indicate that these three were once Zonai who turned into Dragons? Were they ever Goddesses to begin with, or was that also a legend that grew over time?

What does this make of the "other gods" in the setting, such as the Bargainer Statues or the Horned Statue? The Horned Statue is pretty up front about it being a Demon who was punished by Hylia for its acts, but the Bargainer Statues seem to be different. They're also all found nearby Hylia Statues and express a neutral view of good and evil, while supplying items that both embody and defy evil outright. They're also the source of the Dark Link outfit, which makes me wonder if they're intended to represent a sort of mirror/shadow aspect to Hylia. Not evil that opposes her (that's what Demise, Ganon, and the Primal Demons are for), but just a natural off-shoot. Hylia creates life while the Bargainer Statues manage death.

Soul-ar Powered Technology I can't be the only one who thinks Sheikah Tech was basically powered by the spirits of the dead after everything we've learned in ToTK, right? With the return of Poes (which were totally absent in BoTW), the blue flame furnaces that connect underground into what we now know as the Depths and the ancient Zonai refineries, Mineru's spirit being able to house itself inside the Purah Pad, and the obvious correlation between Zonai and Sheikah technologies?

[pandasmagorica]

First Watch: The Sign notes on the ending episodes

Love this series despite all the plot holes. In fact, it bumped Until We Meet Again off my top 10 faves.

Rewatched ep 10 and 11 to refresh my memory before watching the now-generally-available ep 12.

(With comments in parentheses after watching 12.)

Ep 10 4/4 7:06-7:51 It's unclear whether this is a flashback or Akk's vision. It's early for a flashback that only goes back to ep 10 3/4 and which Akk was not present for, but it doesn't have special color effects the way Tharn's visions do. I'm voting for my original take, it being Akk's vision, though, that Akk has visions that let him see crimes after they've happened, even though I now see it was the blood trail that led him to the thumb drive and not his vision. Someone mentioned the blood trail, and this re-watch I was looking for it and now I see it.

(And after ep 12, it's still a plot hole as to the nature of that scene.)

At 11 1/4 2:33-3:20, we have the scene where Yai tells Akk about Tharn's visions. There is a shocked look in Akk's eyes at 3:20. This would have special significance if Akk indeed has visions as well, with Akk realizing he is not the only one with visions. But if the scene in 10 4/4 were just a flashback, then it's that Akk is having trouble believing what Yai just said.

(Ditto. Still an open question.)

Someone commented on the IDF team examining the scene of the crime without gloves. If Akk believes there's a mole - as he told Tharn in ep 10, it's surprising he would share the contents of the thumb drive with everyone on the team. Then again, if the baddies are willing to kill to get hold of the thumb drive, it might be the safest course for Akk's continued existence.

(And we still don't know who the mole is, if there is indeed one.)

11 1/4 10:22-11:03 Someone commented on Tharn not believing Phaya when Phaya tells Tharn that Chalothorn is the Naga who is trying to keep Phaya and Tharn separated. If Chalothorn has hypnotized Tharn at some point as part of Tharn's therapy, it's quite likely that he would have made a suggestion that Tharn would discount any accusations made against Chalothorn. So I don't think it's a character error, just a plot hole, since we've never seen any of Chalothorn's therapy.

Ending spoilers after the cut.

*** and adding next-day notes ***

After sleeping on this, I took it off my top 10, restoring Eternal Yesterday. I love this series, but I'm thinking more about its flaws as well.

Not necessarily a factor in my decision, but there are lots of plot holes: Phaya's hospital escape, who are the other cops involved in the crime organization, does Akk have visions, those are the ones that play out.

Loved episode 12, although I felt Tharn being freed by Chalothorn came too easily. Also, how could Tharn have Chalothorn's soul but Chalothorn is still a Naga in the river?

So, not sold on the ending but at least I don't feel betrayed by it the way I felt by the endings of Just Friends and Last Twilight. I acknowledge this may have led me to rate The Sign higher than I otherwise might have rated it.

Oh, well, it was a fun ride and I forgive them their plot holes.

I agree with @bengiyo and @lurkingshan that the series is flawed, but I still loved it.

*** and adding next-day notes ***

It would have been great to see a fight to the death between garuda-Phaya and naga-Chalothorn, with garuda-Phaya winning, of course, and thus getting to keep Tharn by his side. But, within the rules of the series' universe, that would still not end things. Chalothorn would simply reincarnate and eventually carry on their battle, likely killing Tharn again and starting the cycle all over again. The only way to end this cycle would be for Chalothorn to change.

So it's a great disappointment that we don't get to see how Tharn brings Chalothorn's change about.

[dreaming-hibi]

The way home Huxiao week 2023 | July 9th - Reincarnation

✿ 4k+ words ✿ Tags: Reincarnation but it’s funny, angst / FULL comfort ✿ Featuring: Xiao’s comedic suffering, Hu Tao being Hu Tao

Every day was like the one before, a blend of the same three duties Xiao carried out for the sake of Liyue. That was his life, until he rescued a mysterious Mini Seelie.

“My head is not your nest.” “Squeak!” “It matters not if you like it.” "Squeak...?" "Not even if you pout."

“Yaa!” 

Xiao stepped to the side with practiced agility, the hilichurl’s club making contact with the ground he previously stood on seconds later. As the monster pondered over the failures of its attack, he didn’t hesitate to drive his spear through the goblin-like creature. 

He had no prayers to offer the hilichurl, as its lifeless body came to lie on the ground in a pool of its own blood. A tool for extermination had no time for remorse, nor should he be feeling any guilt towards a monster which attempted to take his life. 

Tonight’s moon was particularly luminous, casting boundless shadows, which twisted, danced and covered the whole land of Liyue. The air felt as though it was at an impasse with the world, for not even a breeze could be felt. 

There was something in the atmosphere, something charged with possibilities unknown. Although Xiao possessed not the gift of foresight, even he could sense tonight would be different to every other night; whether this was a good omen or not, it still remained to be seen.

“Yaaa!” cried a hilichurl, clumsily swinging its flaming club left and right. Its desperate battlecry echoed in the devastated camp, not a single warrior was left to answer its call. 

Xiao brought down his spear with merciless precision, bestowing a swift and painless death upon the lone survivor. For creatures who had lost both intellect and spirituality, an act of mercy was rarely seen as a helping hand; rather, it could only be seen as a cruel continuation of one’s own suffering. 

Once insanity knocked at the door, death was the only answer to give. 

“They show no sign of having been touched by corruption and yet...” The rowdiness of this particular camp had little to do with the ancient corruption, of this Xiao was sure; however, what else could cause them to be so disruptive?

An unexpected rattling sound caught Xiao’s attention, breaking his conviction of having dealt with the whole of the camp’s monsters. A feeling akin to annoyance contorted his features into a scowl, pursuing a hidden enemy never brought favorable results. 

“Come out.” 

The sound ceased for the duration of a heartbeat before picking up once again, more desperate than when it first appeared. Not an enemy, perhaps these hilichurls had only recently caught a prey and they saw his sudden appearance in their camp as a hindrance; animals—as well as humans—tended to become rather aggressive when someone stood between them and their hard-earned dinner. 

Xiao took his time in finding the source of the sound, after all, for all he knew, it could still be an enemy, waiting for the opportune time to strike at him. Returning injured to the inn was not an option. 

“What is this?” 

A wooden chest stood by itself at the center of the biggest hut in the camp. The noise that had taken him this far into the camp was, unmistakably, coming from it. As Xiao stood before it, he couldn’t help but feel wary by the chest’s existence — hilichurls were not known for keeping their prey in chests. 

Firmly holding his spear in one hand, Xiao opened the chest. Although faced with the unknown, his heart was strangely at peace for once, as though his earlier cautiousness was a residual effect of being at constant war with the world. He was no stranger to this feeling of serenity—for a certain vivacious soul had taught him to appreciate its flavor—however it had been many years since he had last tasted it and he couldn’t fathom how it could be surfacing now, while opening this box full of possibilities. 

I understand now, this chest is the reason… 

That which was meant to occur tonight, the reason for the restlessness of the earth and the quietness of the wind, was occurring at this particular juncture in time, between the unknown and the known of the contents of the chest. 

“Kyuu!”

Xiao went momentarily blind as his vision was obscured by something jumping out of the chest and attacking his face with unprecedented speed, not even his time-honed reflexes could protect him from his assailant.

When he grabbed onto the impertinent and fearless enemy to pry it away from his face, his hand touched something squashy and warm, a feeling like what he would imagine touching pyro slimes barehanded would feel like. 

The impertinent being came off without much resistance, rather, it squealed excitedly as though there could be nothing more amusing in the world. 

“Silence,” Xiao ordered, inspecting the insolent blob. It quieted down with a hiccup, its form stilling as though conscious of what was being expected of it. Although more than a bit miffed by its peculiar behavior, Xiao examined the creature carefully. 

The little blob was as big as Xiao’s palm and as round as the moon, with what appeared to be ears or horns protruding from its body — which only consisted of a see-through head and one luminous eye. Its appearance reminded Xiao of the infant Seelie he once saw floating beside the Traveler. If he remembered correctly the Traveler referred to it as a “mini Seelie”, a being with no particular abilities of its own.

A part of him wondered what those hilichurls could possibly gain from eating this tiny blob—there were more nutritious meals out there—while another part, not as insignificant as he would like, became lost in reminiscences of the years gone. To begin with, Xiao wasn’t one who took the time to dwell in happenings of the past, as he would inevitably long for a life he could no longer live; however, there were times in which even someone like him could become prey to the sweet whisperings of memories.

The Traveler he knew, a courageous soul with more bravery than there were stars in the sky, had long since met with their sibling and taken off to some distant galaxy. He couldn’t fault them for making such a choice, rather he would paint himself a hypocrite if he made such an accusation —  he chose love over solitude himself.

As though making up its own mind of ending this inspection, the blob once again attacked Xiao’s face, squeaking up a storm.

Xiao growled in displeasure, the little one possessed strength far greater than its size and he wasn’t about to be pushed back by its insistent pounding. He wasn’t an unmovable mountain, but he was also no pushover, no matter how much he allowed others to continue commenting on his lack of height. 

“Cease this attack at once.” 

The little blob screeched—it sounded angry enough to be called thus—before attacking his face once more. Xiao was no blob-whisperer, he couldn’t understand the first thing about this little one but something told him the rascal wasn’t happy with his interpretation of its exuberant gesture. 

“Is this… not an attack?” 

It gave a clockwise twirl before squeaking something cheerful and affirmative and, again, went back to “attacking” his face. Too curious to resist, Xiao set back and observed the blob, perhaps there was more to this particular action than met the eye.

Now that he paid close attention, Xiao could see the motion for what it was: the little one was rubbing their faces together, with far too much enthusiasm than the action warranted for but, it was a harmless rub nonetheless. And, Xiao snorted at his own insensibility, every now and then the blob made small squeaky noises, like those made by overly cheerful kids when they were kissing their mother’s cheeks. 

“Are you thanking me?”

It gave a twirl and a squeak, an answer which he now knew to be the blob’s way of saying: “Yes!”

Xiao nodded at the response, too amused to do anything else. He picked up his spear and stood up, however enjoyable his time with the blob was, all meetings in this world were bound to end in departure. Furthermore, he had his duty to go back to. 

“You are free,” he said to the little one, knowing full well it was capable of understanding him — although he ignored the how's and the why’s. Xiao watched as its single radiant eye narrowed, as though the blob knew how to glare, before it twirled its body counterclockwise, screeching as it went. He took it for the “NO!” it stood for.

As much as he was beginning to think this little red blob couldn’t possibly be the bad omen his sixth sense had warned him about, its current stubborn behavior was quickly making him change his mind. 

“Go.” 

Xiao tried switching to a more stern approach, perhaps the blob mistook him for a good-hearted person. For as much as he had come to accept that he was no mere tool for massacre, his hands were irrevocably tainted with the blood of Liyue’s enemies and no amount of excuses, no matter how well thought-out, could ever change this fact. 

The blob twirled again and again, vigorously affirming its negative answer at being told to go. On its final twirl, the little one unexpectedly launched itself at Xiao and nestled in his hair, squeaking and cooing as it did so. 

“No,” Xiao was just as firm in his disapproval, his hands reaching for the blob to pull it free from his hair. When his hands closed in on the rascal—its squashy body reminding him how easily he could end its life—instead of resisting, the little one broke down into tiny gurgles, like peals of mischievous laughter.

His heart froze in place as he was reminded of the longing he felt for a similar, familiar sound. Xiao used to happily suffer through pranks and nonsensical jokes just to hear that beloved sound, he would forgive and forget for it. 

“You may come with.” 

The rascal answered with a squeal. 

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Concerned over his little companion’s well-being if he teleported, Xiao had no other choice but to enter the inn through the front door, like a common man. The inn was void of its usual chatter, so he passed unnoticed by the few souls still lingering around the terrace. 

“Sir Xiao!” shouted Jin’hui, her blonde hair moving every which way as she bounced behind the counter in an attempt to catch Xiao’s attention. Calling his name would have sufficed. 

The genetic transmission of traits from parent to child and child to grandchild could be said to capture only the most superficial of traits since, apart from her blonde hair and her ability to keep everyone off his business, Verr Goldet’s granddaughter—Jin’hui—shared no other traits with her grandmother. The woman couldn’t seem to apply the same concept of keeping off his business to herself like she did with others.

He acknowledged her presence with a nod but, other than that, he continued on to his room as though she wasn’t in the middle of furiously beckoning him to stand at the counter and chat about his night. 

“How was your night?” Xiao should have known better, nothing could stop this woman from putting her nose where it wasn’t needed. “Oh my, oh my! That’s a very cute hat!”

Xiao halted in his steps as the little blob in his head gave a satisfied squeak, as if to answer the flattering comment it was given. He grabbed onto its squashy body and gave it a good shake, waking it up from its blissful nap. “It is not a hat,” he said, more to the little one than to Jin’hui. 

“Then, it’s a little bird and your hair is its nest.”

The little one broke free from his hold and squealed uncomfortably loud. 

“No,” Xiao repeated, firmly grabbing onto the blob with both hands. He would not be walking around with a blob on his head, the fierce image that commanded respect as Conqueror of Demons would be no more. “My hair shall not be your nest.” 

The rascal hiccupped in protest.

❀❁❀⋆❀❁❀⋆❀❁❀⋆❀❁❀

As hesitant as Xiao was to welcome the little rascal into his life—for all meetings must come to an end, and such was the inevitable fate of all those who chose to tread the path of life beside a yaksha—the transition between no-blob-life to blob-on-board-life was flawless and effortless. The little one behaved as though it belonged in his life, as though it was meant to be in his life.

“It’s time to get going.” 

Xiao was ready to start his day even before the sun rays had time to touch the tops of the mountains, while his days ended once the moon was gone. Few were the people who could keep with such a tight schedule, however, his little rascal was energetic from sunrise to sunrise. 

The little one squealed and twirled, safely nestling itself on Xiao’s head. 

“My head is not your nest.” 

“Squeak!” 

“It matters not if you like it.” 

Although Xiao couldn’t see its reaction, he could feel as the little one rolled uncontrollably on his head, pulling at his hair to hide itself, whining with tiny squeaks as it did so. If Xiao were to name this particular behavior, he would be calling it “pouting”. 

The blob was pouting and his heart felt heavy at the thought of having been the one to cause such a reaction. 

“You may continue,” he said, a stern tone roughing his voice. “However, tomorrow this shall be no more.”

Both knew those were just empty words, as they would be having this same discussion tomorrow, and tomorrow’s tomorrow, and every day after that. Xiao was incapable of standing his ground with the little one, and the little one was content to use this weakness at every turn. 

“Squeal!”

“No, you are not cute.”

❀❁❀⋆❀❁❀⋆❀❁❀⋆❀❁❀

“Mmm,” mumbled Baoyan as he hurriedly placed the almond tofu on the table and disappeared into the kitchen once again. His fearful appearance had little to do with Xiao himself, and more to do with the poor name his mother had given him. True to his name, he was a person of thin words. 

Xiao spared the poor soul the polite words he had come to give on certain occasions, for he sympathized with the inability to keep up with idle chat. He had discovered how to best show his appreciation for the service he was given, and that was by polishing off what he was served, although, today he wasn’t in the mood for eating. 

The little rascal, whose preferred position during meals was on the table, rolled around the plate of almond tofu at an alarming speed. Had the little one possessed the gift of a mouth, Xiao would have been more than happy to give up his meal to it. 

“Stop it.” 

It squeaked back at him with indignation and far too much temper for a thing that was only head and ears — or horns, Xiao had yet to expose the true identity of the protrusions the little one had. 

“I am not hungry.”

Xiao sighed as the little one began to make a loud shrilling sound, a heartfelt cry that broke his own in half. As concerning as it might sound, this was a behavior Xiao had come to expect whenever he refused to eat his meals. For one so small, his little one carried a boundlessly kind heart.

“Sorry,” he whispered, gathering the sobbing blob into his hands. Its light dimmed and brightened with its hiccups, creating quite an amusing lights show for Xiao. “I will try to do better.”

His little one gave a quiet squeal before it flew atop his head, nuzzling itself there and promptly falling asleep as though Xiao had sworn to eat the whole dish. In spite of the fact that he couldn’t recall having made such a promise when he spoke, Xiao picked up his spoon. 

“You are too much like her…” he grumbled as he brought the first spoonful to his mouth. Baoyan’s almond tofu bore the same taste of sweet dreams as Yanxiao’s; however, there were times in which Xiao couldn’t bring himself to enjoy this particular taste on his tongue. 

Today was such a day, a day in which he was reminded of her, Hu Tao.

It wasn’t so much the dish as it was the memory of her that choked him up with such force he saw his karmic debt as being a lesser demon. The very first and the very last dish he received from Hu Tao was almond tofu, it was a sweet torture to his senses when he had to eat this dish while thinking of someone who was no longer with him. She had chosen to dedicate her human life to him and yet, he had greedily begged her for more time. He had tarnished their last memory together, thrown the life they had lived together into question, committed the one sin he could never recover from.

And now, his little one’s giggles of joy and squeaks of disapproval were constantly reminding him of her. Even the way it manipulated him into doing its every command was the same, and what was he to do when he loathed and loved that resemblance? 

“Perhaps, eating will ease my heart.”

❀❁❀⋆❀❁❀⋆❀❁❀⋆❀❁❀

Wangshu Inn provided two different bathhouses for their guests, one for male guests and one for female guests. Located adjacent to each other, both bathhouses boasted a breathtaking view of Jueyun Karst.

“Sir Xiao!” called Jin’hui, waving an enthusiastic hand in his direction. Xiao didn’t bother to wave back, however he did stop to acknowledge her greeting. “The bathhouse is empty at the moment!”

Xiao nodded, turning in the direction of the bathhouse. Millenia of massacre had taught him how to keep from spilling blood on himself, however, one little blob didn’t have the same amount of experience nor care to keep itself clean.

The rascal struggled in his hands, fruitlessly squealing in an attempt to break free. Xiao tightened his hold, refusing to have one little blob continue muddying his hair and garments. 

“You are dirty.” 

“Squeak?!” 

“Do not feign ignorance.”

It came as easy as breathing for the little rascal to manipulate Xiao into doing whatever it wanted—to the point where he was foolishly willing to forgive anything—however, this was one thing Xiao refused to compromise on. No amount of struggling and crying would make him yield. 

“Squeal…” resigned to its fate, the little one stilled in his hands. It gave some occasional squeaks and squeals as he readied a wooden bucket with warm water and soap. 

Xiao took off his gloves before he carefully lowered the little one into its personal bathtub. Unlike what he expected, the little one floated peacefully on the surface of the water and even underwent some scrubbing with minimal complaint. 

“How well-behaved of you,” he said, jokingly knocking his knuckles against the rascal until it rolled over in the water a couple of times. It squeaked in response. “It was a compliment.”

It was once he had successfully solved the issue of his little dirty blob that Xiao noticed how filthy he himself was. His head had officially become a bird’s nest, with twigs and mud sticking out at odd angles. His white shirt was a disconcerting gray color, while his previously purple pants were now a sad black.

“You rascal.” 

“Squeal!” 

Xiao shook his head at the overly cheerful squeal he received, the rascal felt not one drop of remorse for what it did. It wasn’t rare for him to take baths, after all, cleansing both body and soul was a necessity in keeping his karma under control, however... 

“Squeal~!”

At the mere hint of him taking his clothes off, the little rascal would go wild with squeals and twirls of delight, its phosphorescent light brightening to an almost uncomfortable degree. If he didn’t know any better, Xiao would think the little one was actually enjoying the situation — which was exactly what it was doing, and which was the reason why he never brought it to the bathhouse with him.

“You are one indecent little blob,” he commented, more to himself than to anything else; the blob was too lost in its own unrestrained squeals to pay attention to him. Taking this as the opportune time to carry on with his mission, Xiao swiftly rid himself of his clothes. 

When the high-pitched squealing quieted down at last, Xiao was already clean of any muddy remnants and peacefully resting—accompanied by a bucket-full of water and blob—in the thermal waters of the outdoor bath.

“Squeak?!” the rascal twirled counterclockwise within the confines of the bucket, fuming and squeaking as it went. It clearly wasn’t pleased with the current situation, not that Xiao cared for its approval at this moment in time. 

Xiao sighed, far too amused to sound appropriately tired as he wanted, “Indecent blob.”

“Squeak!”

❀❁❀⋆❀❁❀⋆❀❁❀⋆❀❁❀

Moonless nights were synonymous with increased monster activity, such nights were also synonymous with exhaustion for Xiao. More often than not his duty, although repetitive, would leave him with ample energy to savor a meal and keep watch over Liyue for the remaining time until the sun came out. This didn’t apply to nights like today. 

Xiao struggled to keep himself upright as he made his way up the steps to his room. His bone-deep fatigue made a poor companion for the squealing blob on his head, who couldn’t keep itself out of trouble and yet insisted on following him into danger, adding more worries to his already strained mind.

For as much as he denied the notion that adepti slept like humans, his room was decorated with a spacious bed fit for two grown adults — something which he hadn’t initially approved of, but eventually conceded in favor of not discussing the issue again. It was on this very bed where he let his body fall at last. 

His bubbly companion squeaked at the rough treatment, unkindly attaching itself to his head and pulling at his hair. Xiao supposed it was only fair considering he had almost squashed the blob when he laid down. 

“I hadn’t meant to…” Squash you to death? Xiao wasn’t sure he could make himself utter such insensitive words. He was guilty of forgetting the blob on his head, but he had been so tired, he just couldn’t remember any good reason for why he couldn’t drop dead on the bed. 

“Squeak!” 

The little rascal gave a series of frustrated squeaks, much like how a mother would scold a child, before it settled against Xiao’s neck and began to purr — yes, like a cat. Disoriented by this sudden gesture, all Xiao could do was lay with his head at an uncomfortable angle and brave through his little one vibrating at maximum strength. 

Its quivering, reminiscent of the great shows of power Rex Lapis carried out in the Archon War, had a strange somniferous effect on him. His eyes struggled to remain open, he may be exhausted but Xiao refused to surrender to the great call of nightmares. 

“Little one—” he began but held his tongue as an annoyingly familiar and beloved song resounded within the room, awakening emotions he had come to accept as gone.  

♪Silly-churl, billy-churl, silly-billy hilichurl

Frilly-churl, willy-churl, frilly-willy hilichurl♪

“Hu... Tao?”

The little rascal squealed, its fiery red glow brightening the room much like the rays of the sun brightened the day. It twirled once, twice before it brushed part of itself on his lips, something like a silly kiss he had come to never expect again in this life. 

“Of all things...” 

Xiao snorted, happiness and confusion and shock, and many things all at once exploding inside his heart. The emotions of an entire lifetime threatened to spill over, to break free from inside him and taint the world with the colors of his love. Tears came unbidden — tears he had sworn he could no longer cry, as his body had been hollowed out to the point of insensibility, both by the karma he carried and the immeasurable misery and guilt he had felt at the passing of Hu Tao.

“I’m sorry…” he murmured, salty liquid spilling onto the Seelie as he gathered her into his hands and wept. Even though Hu Tao had been the one to teach him the importance of crying, as it cleansed the soul of sadness and gave the person an opportunity to express the suffering and pain they had been through, her death had robbed him of his tears. 

She giggled, perhaps amused by his foolish thoughts and beliefs. As always, he couldn’t fault her for finding enjoyment in the situation, he had been foolish enough to condemn himself for something he had no control over: his heart. Even yaksha weren’t exempt from matters of the heart and, as much as they boasted a desire-free life, certain wants from heart were inevitable.

“I love you, still.” 

Hu Tao squealed, glowing closer to pink than her usual red. To think she would be embarrassed by such words, Xiao was reassured by this innocent gesture of hers. She had returned to him, in an unexpected form but she had returned, when he had been certain she wouldn’t and he wasn’t foolish enough to turn his back on such a blessing.

“However, you are still not allowed to enter the bath with me.” 

“Squeak!”

[sophistprick]

About Ciarán

[ Independent RP blog for a Changeling: The Dreaming character set in the World of Darkness. ]

Ciarán is…a loudmouthed, foul-tempered bitch. She’s not a bad person, but she’s caustic and sarcastic. Her friends are trying to get her to be more polite, and it's kind of working, but she’s still just way too quick to be rude.

I don't want to call her a tsundere, but the shoe does fit. Her once-lost childhood friend, Eve, had to break down a lot of barriers to get close to her, and for a while she thought Ciarán hated her. She’s more open now than she used to be back then, but it’s not the world’s fastest process.

Ciarán Starsong is:

An orphan.

Her only friend after the death of her mother and until adulthood was her older stepsister, Nell O'Shieghane—herself twice-orphaned. The two were never adopted, and had to survive by themselves.

A college student majoring in...social work, believe it or not.

Ciarán genuinely cares about other people and wants to help them. She’s not far enough in the program to pick a population to work in, as she’s still doing Gen Ed, but she’s leaning towards substance abuse. She’s not actually as socially unintelligent as she might appear, and is making efforts to open up to other people. She thinks this might be a good way to both do something concrete to help other people and force herself to be better about it. Incidentally, this website is also an effort to try to do that latter thing.

A part-time bookstore worker.

She was jobless for most of her adult life, but she eventually found work at the Blind Eye, an independent bookstore with a generous return policy owned by the anarchist historian Annalise Ansara.

It’s not technically a library, but for the needy, it effectively functions like one, even so far as it provides public services in an area without a public library in walking distance.

A polyamorous lesbian.

She won’t talk much about her relationships. She usually won’t even refer to people as her friend unless she’s explicitly asked about the nature of her relationships. She also doesn’t really care about titles. She’ll be the mother of your child before she asks you to be her ‘girlfriend’ or whatever.

...A Changeling.

Changeling: The Dreaming is not the most popular game from the World of Darkness—certainly not anywhere near the likes of Vampire: The Masquerade—and I'm not about to step in and defend its honor. However, since a lot of people have probably never read any of its 27-year-old rulebooks, I'll summarize the important information.

The world used to be more magical. As we know from Mage: the Awakened lore (which isn't always fully compatible with everything else, as is frequently the case with the WoD), humans change the world with their very perception. If mankind perceives the world to be a certain way, it becomes that way. The advent of the Iron Age was devastating to the forces of magic and whimsy in the world, as they were slowly replaced with science and rationalism. Glamour, the force that animates the Fae, was slowly—and then very quickly—eroded by Banality. Banality became so strong that the Dreaming, the mystical home of the Fae, was Sundered from reality. Fae outside of the Dreaming were eroded entirely by the forces of Banality, and ceased to exist. The ones who learned to survive in the real world became Changelings. Changelings are humans inhabited by Fae souls, typically newborn or reincarnated Fae that awaken and join with the human soul during adolescence. The Sidhe are the Fae nobility. They're immortal and ageless, and many hold great power by comparison to their commoner brethren. But as the Dreaming is vanishing, they've been forced to become Changelings themselves, and Changelings are not immortal. Sidhe, unlike commoners, don't reincarnate. For whatever reason, there's never been a reincarnated Sidhe. The official stance of the Sidhe is that it's because they return to Arcadia, the home of the Fae in the Dreaming upon death—returning to the Fae homelands that they've been expelled from since 1969. Every Fae returns temporarily to Arcadia when they reincarnate, so it goes. The idea is that Sidhe simply don't reincarnate, they remain in Arcadia. This, however, is unsubstantiated. If it reads like Sidhe copium, it's because it very well might be. Sidhe are much more victim to Banality than any other Fae. They are naturally weak to it, being more innately Glamorous than the others. The alternative hypothesis is that they simply cannot survive the process of reincarnation. Without a human form to keep them sheltered, they're simply obliterated in the Banality of the world. The third hypothesis, one that some commoner Fae claim is true, is that Sidhe are reincarnated—but not as Sidhe. Instead, they become commoners so that they experience all walks of life. Some commoners claim to have been Sidhe in past lives, some rather fervently—but since it's impossible to verify, nobody can ever know for sure. The Sidhe, of course, fervently deny this possibility. A fourth hypothesis is that Sidhe may simply take a very long time to reincarnate. The Sidhe were only displaced to the mortal world 54 years ago, after all—ask any Vampire Elder, that time is nothing to an immortal. Sidhe also incarnate differently than their commoner counterparts. Commoners share an identity with their human half. There is nothing completely recognizable as a commoner Fae distinct from their human self, even though there is clearly a human and Fae component. Sidhe don't do that. When Sidhe incarnate, they possess humans, and completely and totally replace the human soul that inhabited the body they take. Back when they still had a connection to Arcadia, the human spirit would be swapped with theirs—but now that the Sidhe cannot return home, it's likely that the human soul is just done away with.

Ciarán is the host of a Sidhe from House Leanhaun named Vera. Ciarán's soul is much too old to fuse with Vera's in the same Chrysalis that most newborn Changelings experience in their adolescence, but Vera didn't wish to displace her, either. This is the compromise she came to—co-habitation with her new soul-partner in the same mortal body.

Vera, strangely enough, professes herself to be not newborn, but quite old—she has memories of a past life, or perhaps this life. What this could imply is somewhat of a mystery. Is she the first, or only Sidhe to reincarnate? Or was she somehow still in Arcadia until the present day, and only left now? She won't answer these questions, and frankly, Ciarán won't ask.

What consequences does this cohabitation entail? Well, Vera is a very accomplished Sidhe capable of quite powerful Cantrips—Fae magic—but Ciarán has access to none of them, and Vera won't simply use them on command. Indeed, Vera seems to hog all of the Glamour in their relationship. Conversely, Vera has practically no control over her own body. Ciarán has more experience piloting it, and is much more accustomed to the Banality than Vera. Vera can't even flip a light switch without using a Cantrip.

Furthermore, because Vera is a glutton for Glamour, and Glamour is hard to come by when you're not looking for it, she's operating on a limited supply. Ciarán is a quite normal person, who doesn't want to abandon her human life in favor of a Fae one. In fact, she doesn't want to consider herself to be Fae at all, even though she's a full Changeling by this point, and would be recognized as nobility by other Changelings—who she's gone out of her way to avoid.

However, there's something that stops her from simply hiding in the human world completely, and letting Vera succumb to Banality.

House Leanhaun is dependent on something called the Rhapsody. Rhapsody is a type of Epiphany, an overwhelming burst of emotion that a human experiences when they tap into the Dreaming. Specifically, Rhapsody is a forbidden type of Epiphany—Ravaging—which inspires an artist to create their life's work—their magnum opus—at the cost of all the Glamour they'll ever have again. By the end, all their creativity is spent. They'll never be an artist again afterwards, and frequently succumb to exhaustion, stress, and intense, sometimes suicidal depression.

Vera is a predator who preys upon desperate artists, giving them exactly what they want in a Faustian bargain. Ciarán, like a fledgling vampire, is to come to terms with that reality—because without it she'll begin to wither. This is the curse of House Leanhaun. Leanhaun Sidhes must partake in the Rhapsody at least once per month, or they'll begin to rapidly age as they wither. This aging is a boon and a curse, as it can be reversed through feeding. Sidhe of House Leanhaun grow younger when they partake in Rhapsody.

If Ciarán wants to continue living, she needs to do so at the cost of ruining around 12 lives per year. That's a fact that she's still coming to terms with—and still figuring out how to even accomplish. She needs only follow Vera's instructions—but the Sidhe can be rather casually cruel.

—

Character Origins

Ciarán started as a character made for a DnD 5e game.

In it, she was the orphaned squire of a Knight named Eliza Hylia, made that way as a compromise on a punishment. After her family died in a dragon attack that the corrupt local officials in the Kingdom of Camelot ignored, she bid her time until she could learn swordsmanship in the militia and, once she was 18, cut down the local noble lord. She was captured by royal forces, and sentenced to be executed. On death row, she took an Oath, becoming a Paladin blessed by the Archfey Titania, who took a whimsical interest in the youthful and spirited girl. Titania’s mark spared her from execution by the Knights of Camelot, who were reverent to the Archfey. They were, however, unwilling to simply let her go, so she was instead lashed to the reputable Eliza.

Both Camelot and Titania would one day learn to regret sparing her life. Her Oath was not sworn in fealty to Titania, but to the end of tyranny. Ciarán refused to allow Eliza’s conservative attitudes and virtuous platitudes to sway her, and gathered power for one goal: to kill each and every King, until there was no man brave enough to call himself better than any other.

…in this setting, she’s a tad more chill than she is in her original game.

[entrapdaknation]

Federal Occult Management Documentary (1994 VHS Rip)

Trevor Roberts, the creator of Mystery Flesh Pit National Park, has a new project. The National Institute for Spectral Haptics already has amazing worldbuilding, with the fictional documentary on YouTube laying out a rich alternate history of the U.S. The project promises to be just as captivating and terrifying as the Permian Basin Superorganism universe.

Naturally, I have questions. The fictional FORMA documentary forces us to ask questions, and I have tons of them.

- In this universe, Confederate mages cast an evil spell over the northeastern states during the Civil War, resulting in ecological devastation. The collapse of fishing and forestry, and the explosion of paranormal activity, prompted a mass exodus from the region, hence its decay. The federal government launched a reclamation program to breathe new life into the region, but it's unclear if the original curse still afflicts the land. If the northeast is still ecologically dead and supernaturally unsound, won't reclamation efforts be doomed to fail? If the curse has been lifted, how did the government do so?

- Were the apparitions afflicting the northeast the result of the Civil War era curse? If so, what was the nature of the spell? Does everyone who dies in the northeast now become an apparition after death, unable to move forward to the other side? How can FORMA lift this curse so that future residents do not become apparitions after death? Does it even want to?

- What if the large numbers of apparitions were not the product of the Confederate curse? What if this is the afterlife awaiting everyone who dies in this universe? If so, how is society coping with the knowledge that everyone will be doomed to wander the Earth as a ghost after death? How is this impacting religions that believe in heaven, hell, apotheosis, or reincarnation after death?

- Is there any way to help apparitions move on to the afterlife, or are spectral habitats the only way to deal with them? Are they being housed in spectral habitats because they can't move on to the next world, or does the government secretly want to use them for nefarious purposes? The newspaper article about conscientious objector apparitions refusing to haunt Vietnam suggests that the government is trying (and failing) to weaponize them.

- How do apparitions experience confinement in spectral habitats? Is it a featureless prison? Or, is it a pleasant living space? (Think of the ghost containment unit in The Real Ghostbusters cartoon, which looked like a sunny meadow from the inside.) Do they like living in these habitats, or would they rather be free?

- The decision to build spectral habitats in urban centers, rather than suburbs, is an allegory for environmental racism. In real life, polluting facilities are often built in poor communities or communities of color, away from white, middle class areas. This results in health problems and lower quality of life for the people forced to live near pollution. As we see in the video, spectral habitats attract phantivores, which bring down disaster on urban neighborhoods. How did the people in these urban neighborhoods react to plans to build spectral habitats near their homes? Did activists condemn the plan? The documentary never tells us what they thought of all this.

- Who is Anselm Suleiman, the architect who masterminded the spectral megahabitat in Wyoming? Why does he look so ghostly himself? What are his true intentions for the megahabitat?

- The name "Suleiman" is derived from "Solomon". According to Jewish folklore, King Solomon was a powerful summoner who commanded demons. Does Anselm Suleiman have supernatural powers like his namesake?

- Does the Wyoming location of the spectral megahabitat hold any significance? Does it have supernatural power? Does the presence of wilderness have any effect on the apparitions contained therein?

- Wyoming contains several tribal reservations. Was the spectral megahabitat on or near tribal land? If so, how did Native American communities react to this act of environmental racism?

- Intentionally summoning phantivores can have horrific consequences, as shown by the  Mardi Gras Massacre of 1966. What measures is society taking to prevent phantivore summoning? Is magical knowledge being censored? Is possession of magical tomes without a license punishable by law? Do schools and cartoons teach children anti-summoning messages? Did Nancy Reagan launch a "Just Say No to Summoning" campaign in the 1980s?

- Was the Mardi Gras Massacre of 1966 actually the result of intentional summoning, or did the offending phantivores attack of their own volition, attracted by the spectral habitat in New Orleans?

- The documentary points out that spectral habitats are designed to withstand phantivore incursions, suggesting that the builders (1) knew about the existence of phantivores, and (2) knew that the habitats would attract supernatural predators. Why didn't the government warn the public about the danger of phantivores near habitats beforehand? Why weren't more measures taken to preemitively ward off phantivores? Was this another example of environmental racism?

- Much like Mystery Flesh Pit National Park, the world of the National Institute for Spectral Haptics is chilling in how normalized and mundane it makes cosmic horror. In this world, magic exists. Millions of dead spirits now languish as ghosts. Demons from another dimension are feasting on human souls. Residents of inner cities are living in a supernatural nightmare. The northeastern U.S. was transformed into a wasteland by mages. Governments have been weaponizing great and terrible forces for at least 150 years. The fact that most people in this universe aren’t paralyzed by terror and existential dread is a reminder that we humans can grow accustomed to anything.

[dumpdaily]

Maybe I'll write here more. I hate keep things to myself but also in a lot of ways this is basically the same as that. I don't really think anyone will read anything here.

I don't really know what I am doing with my life now. I was trying to get shit sorted so I could be with the person I love. But every time things seemed to be working out some bullshit would hit. Either real world bullshit like losing my job and not being able to walk. Or mental bullshit. Obviously one effects the other. But now he's dead. So it's not like I can figure out how to be with my love anymore because death is game over screen.

I'm basically lost as shit. I used to enjoy playing games, reading, trying to maintain basic life needs. Past tense. I've been struggling for a while with some of the stuff that's now hitting me full force. I'm finally regaining more of my mobility back. But what's the point. Why even bother trying. In a lot of ways he was my hope. We were both dealing with our own bullshit though. idk.

Always looking for reasons to keep trying; Always followed by the reality of the hopelessness I am now trying to outrun again. He said it sounded like despair. I go through these cycles and I can't see outside of this moment. Living as we do is a curse. Right now I am not being crushed by the weight of it all. But part of me is.

I repeat things like a mantra, like a prayer, like a cry for help. Saying the only constant in the world is change. Or all things in balance. Or whatever. Desperately reaching out for anyone to give me a reason to keep holding onto these threads. Holding onto these words. Holding onto something. So intangible.

Right now I don't know what I believe. I've lost people before but nothing has effected me like this. I wonder if he's a ghost haunting me. I talk to him like he is because the alternative is too much for me to bear (I also genuinely believe it but I struggle with reality so it's tricky). Is this okay? Suddenly I wonder about reincarnation and think it might be real.

I've never much cared what happens after we die. Always figured it doesn't matter because we'd all be dead when we're dead. You get buried or whatever and all that happens past that point of death is for those who are still alive. I recently learned that I probably get this view from my grandpa.

I might never recover. It feels like my heart has been ripped out. But it no longer feels like broken glass was shoved inside my chest trying to tear its way out. I'm able to keep food down again. Sometimes I still want to die to end all this bullshit and not have to deal with life. I am so tired. Exhausted. But sometimes I feel okay. And I think of him always. I have been changed. And I will keep changing. Perhaps one day things will feel okay. Perhaps things will be good. Perhaps. Knowing my luck I'll die as soon as things seem to be working out. Whatever is to come is still undecided and that at least is something on which we can rely.

[tenuuchlegch]

“Maybe one life is enough.” / from the same verse as our thread..... Also I had to dig up find this so I hope that's okay

❃ "I am glad you are starting to think so," came Odtsetseg's response. Her tail flicked once and she turned her gaze towards the moon above. The soft glow it radiated was quite the contrast amidst the war-torn landscape of Gyr Abania, as smoke still billowed in air from fallen magitek scattered about. Quite the unusual place to foster hope of all things, especially when a generation of people had grown up knowing nothing but oppression from the Garleans.

- Nevertheless the tides were turning in their favor, as freeing Doma seemed to have rippled its effects onto other occupied territories. Quietly au ra closed her eyes and breathed; the atmosphere crackled with anticipation for battle along with a myriad of peoples' hopes. The pressure falling onto her was immense, yet motivating. Their excruciating efforts would all be worth it, she surmised. Not only would this benefit the people of Eorzea, but her too. Soon the rage she had been holding inside would finally be unleashed.

- But enough of that. Roi was at last beginning to accept some light into his life, which considering what he had gone through before felt like a blessing in of itself. Twas shocking that he would even desire to have any part in this, but she assessed it was like her own motivations when going after Dotharl. Such fires were hard to quench, after all. Finally, she continued.

- "Many tribes in my homeland believe we are reincarnated, after we perish, but even if that is true... I think we can only be ourselves as we are in this life... if that makes an ilm of sense."

Puss in Boots: The Last Wish Starters!

[littlemisssquiggles]

I think it be cool if we see Oscar as the person we see use plant dust caz I don't think we seeing it in show

Hello anon-chan! Uhm…I’m not quite sure if there is such thing as “plant dust” in the world of Remnant?

Hold on let me take a quick look. *Looks it up* Well whaddaya know! According to RWBY Wiki, plant dust is indeed a form of dust that exists canonically in the series and it’s stated in the description that plant dust is likely used for farming purposes.

That’s interesting. The closest to thing to any earth-related dust we’ve seen in the main animated series is rock dust. Going back to your question, while I’m not sure about the possibility of Oscar utilizing dust as a weapon, I still wish to stick with the Pinehead headcanon of Oscar using earth-based magic.

Similar to semblances, dust is meant to replicate the elemental effects of magic which Oscar technically possesses. If it wasn’t for the sillyfact that the showrunners wrote in that Oscar is afraid to use magic due to it allegedly accelerating the effects of his inevitable merge with Ozpin which the little prince has voiced not being emotionally ready for---if it wasn’t for that then I could’ve totally seen Oscar using earth magic; having come from a farming background in an earth-based spring kingdom and continent.

That’s what I would’ve liked to see. But given how the showrunners keep limiting how much magic Oscar can actually use, I think all us Pineheads can canonically look forward to is Oscar simply beating things with the Long Memory. That’s it. That’s all he’d be able to do now as of V8!

He can’t fully use the little percentage of magic he inherited from Ozma through Ozpin because it quickens the Merge (which is just ridiculous) and he can’t use too much of the built up kinetic energy stored in the cane cause it’d blow everyone to smithereens which is also ridiculous! I mean, why even give him these abilities if you’re just going to redact them later and make Oscar not use them at all moving forward? It seems like a waste of an idea.

All that’s left now is Oscar’s so-called semblance; to which…they BETTER NOT take that back too.

I just…as a proud squiggly Pinehead, I find it sooo increasingly frustrating how the showrunners keep nerfing Oscar at every stage in the most ridiculous ways. Let Oscar be great and powerful, dagnabbit! I’m not just saying that because he’s my favourite, I’m saying it because technically Oscar is supposed to be powerful!

Him being powerful makes more sense than other certain characters in the show being powerful (*coughsWeisscoughs*).

Not only does he draw inspiration from Princess Ozma---the most powerful magic user in all of Oz in the Wizard of Oz series. But in the context of RWBY, Oscar is the current reincarnation of one of the last wizards in Remnant. The only person who has ever defeated Salem and would’ve ended her reign eons ago if the dynamic dumbasses that are the Gods of Remnant did not curse Salem with immortality and then left her wicked witch ass with that immortality for poor Ozma to clean up without a bloody clue how to revoke it.

Oscar doesn’t have to be brokenly overpoweredbut for Pete’s sake, at least allow him to be strong enough so we can finally move past seeing him just beat shit with a wind-up bulb on a stick! No shade at the Long Memory because I actually think it’s a cool weapon given its history and meaning. It’s just that it’s annoying knowing that Oscar can probably do A LOT more given his abilities yet the writers won’t let him…because PLOT!

If Oscar can’t use magic because of PLOT, then I like concept of him experimenting with the practice of using dust in combat as an alternative to magic.

That could be nice and it could be fitting to see him do this in Vacuo since I think, historically, Vacuo is supposed to have a great dust supply hence why the SDC wanted to capitalize on that in the past. It’s also a good way to see Oscar befriend Whitley since, technically, as of V8, isn’t Whitley Schnee officially the new CEO of the SDC?

He was Jacques’ heir to the company after all replacing Weiss from V4. And given that Jacques is now deceased…that would make Whitley next in line as head of the SDC and overseer of all its dust mining operations and resources across Remnant. Basically what I’m trying to say is that I can easily see Whitley becoming a dust supplier to the huntsmen and huntresses currently stationed in Vacuo; inclusive of Oscar, Nora, Ren and Emerald.

I just like the idea of Whitley using his resources with the SDC to further assist the hero team which is inclusive of dust. And since V8 highlighted Whitley being the one who cooked up the schematics that the team needed for the creation of the channels they used to migrate everyone from Atlas to Vacuo, this also highlights a technical talent in Whitley that I’d like to see continued for V9.

Maybe even have Whitley partner with Pietro Polendina (believing that him and Maria are still alive since they were only awkwardly written out of the story for V8) to create some new dust-based weapons and tools for our heroes to use. That’s something that could be done too.

I just want to see Oscar have the big-brain epiphany that since he can’t use magic, his next best bet is to use an alternative method---upgrading and refashioning the design of the Long Memory to now use dust with Whitley’s assistance.

The last time we saw the Long Memory’s design change was with Henkle.

So I think it would be fitting if the cane changed again with Oscar.

Perhaps... even use it as a way to symbolize Oscar finally accepting the Merge but still choose to do it his way by making it his own---leaving a part of himself etched into the new look of the weapon as his way of saying, even if he disappears, he was still willing to bank on a part of him living on in the new person he becomes---small yet extraordinary. Just like Oscar is.

Now that could be a really, really cool idea if done in the canon and as I mentioned before, it could simultaneously be a good way to have Oscar and Whitley bond since there are still fans, like myself, who would like to see these young boys become friends.

But that’s just me spouting ideas on that as usual. Rant aside, I hope I actually answered your question anon-chan.

~LittleMissSquiggles (2022)

[zellerysworld]

『 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐧 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬 』

Sukuna x GN!Reader

WC: 6.7k

Tags: Angst, murder, reincarnation, heavy violence, language, suggestive themes, heavy trauma, mentions of genocide, origin story, slight soft sukuna

I rewrote this bitch three times trying to perfect it- and I’m still not 100% happy with it because there’s so many ways I wanted to write this. Plus I didn’t get the promotion at work so I just got depressed. anyways I wrote the story but @cqcophobiq requested a gender neutral reader. <3

A/N: Readers abilities are touching people to make them sleep, transfer memories, and see past (for those with DID, talk to the souls within the persons mind). They serves as a informant by going inside victims heads to look in their pasts for curses that were around them; informing teammates of location and grade level. They can also gain powers from whomever they touch for a short period of time.

Ex: Sukuna can give Malevolent Shrine to them for battle, but after one use/within five minutes, it vanishes. If they use powers that are harsh on the body, (domain expansions or strong cursed manipulation) they faint/get nose bleeds. *Reader only has abilities in modern times*

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Around 1000 years ago, you ventured out into the woods seeking to kill a god. 1000 years later, you are reincarnated so you may meet this god once again.

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Fear: that is all you felt while you watched the mass murderer known as Ryomen Sukuna walk throughout the same forest you were in. It took so long to hunt him down, and now the moment has finally come. You have trained for years to defeat the villain of your story, but his presence was more intimidating than you had anticipated.

He stopped to bend down, putting out a hand to stroke a sleeping fox. Surrounding the regular-looking male was a meadow filled to the brim with tall grass and flowers, hidden away by bamboo and birch trees. Everything looked so peaceful around Sukuna, as if he was a Dryad. ‘How could he look so peaceful?’ You thought to yourself. It also felt as if you were lied to, since most people told you he had facial marks and four arms, which he did not have.

It looked as if he were another human; that was until you flimsily attempted to move forward. Having been hiding within a large bush, you couldn’t see what was beneath you. And just like, a cracking sound emitted from the twig below you. You closed your eyes and rolled your shoulders back, whispering to yourself, “Oh fu-.”

Now, how exactly did you get yourself into this situation? And why were you in the middle of an uncharted forest trying to stalk Ryomen Sukuna? Well, it is a rather gruesome story for you to look back upon.

The Heian Age is at its peak in Japan, while Jujutsu sorcery is also at its peak as a ripple effect. (Many young children in this period began to claim they have “seen” curses.) Ryomen Sukuna was a young sorcerer, having attended the very school you attended. While amid his fourth and final year, and in your first year, he burned down almost every inch of the school alongside slaughtering over half of the staff and students.

You took it upon yourself to track him down with the intent to kill for revenge. Teachers that survived had entrusted you with information about him after learning of your plans. Granted most told you not to do it, but the ones that supported it told you information of his appearance, how he secretly practiced sacred and forbidden jujutsu techniques, and his unwavering strength. With every day that passes, Sukuna grows stronger at rates nobody can foretell.

So here you are, three years after the incident. The reason for why he did it is still unknown; But you trained to your breaking point for this moment to happen- having bled, cried, screamed, and thrown up countless times. Your classmates called you insane for thinking you could beat Sukuna, but none of their words mattered to you. Sukuna stole people from your life that you could never get back.

Now, back to your current situation. Sukuna shot his head up to the sound, his lips curving to reveal blades for teeth, “Myyyyyy Myyyyy!!! Do I have a challenger?” His voice stunned you, fear engulfing your mind as his body morphed into a four armed and nearly 8 foot tall being with black markings wrapped around his body. Although barely visible, Sukuna first saw your eyes that had such a curious wonder that was tinted with rage.

Before you could even take your bandages off to fight, he was behind you and holding your neck, “A jujutsu sorcerer, huh?”

Air left your lungs faster than anticipated, causing you to slightly panic. You closed your eyes, then leaned your neck over in an attempt to play dead, which worked but to only half of its extent. When your neck rolled to the side, Sukuna slightly loosened his grip. This gave you room to breathe before catching him off guard with a back-kick to his ribs.

The unexpected hit made his brows furrow, anger stirring in his stomach at your cleverness. When your clogs hit the ground, you took off running as if an army of samurai were in pursuit behind. And although you were fast, Sukuna was faster. The sound of his footsteps gave the warning that he was gaining up to you.

Logs and fallen tree branches were dodged by your legs as your jumped over them, Sukuna following behind. The sound of crunching grass as the demon-like man pursued you made the experience even more terrifying, knowing that with every step you took, he took two. There were so many sounds, making it harder to think with the already small amount of time given to you.

You made the judgement call to stop, believing that you could backhand him from behind by catching him off guard. However, it became apparent that you made a grave mistake the second two muscular elbows hit the left side of your waist. The feeling of your ribs cracking on both of sides of your waist when you slammed against the tree made you scream out in pain. Your eyes widened at having never witnessed strength such as his nor pain such as this.

Out of response to the pain, tears formed at the edges of your squinting eyes as your back slid against the tree. Sukuna approached you, cracking his fingers in excitement of killing another jujutsu sorcerer such as yourself. However, you had a trump card that was now in play.

You bit down on a piece of cloth that held the bandages on your left hand together. Ripping the bandages off with your teeth, Sukuna let out a menacing laugh, “You really think jujutsu can help you now?”

His left hand strangled your neck, pulling you upwards to be eye level with him. When Sukuna noticed that your orbs showed no fear, his brows furrowed in curiosity. Just seconds before he was going to snap your neck, both of your hands latched onto his arm. You forced a nerve connection, sending sounds of people screaming, children crying, and raging fires into his head.

The sudden sounds caused Sukuna to release you from his grip, “What-what Is this…?” He looked around, trying to see where the sound was coming from. You leaned against the tree while holding your left side, “How could you forget?” He looked down to you, his eyes widening at the realization of where the sounds came from.

“Those are the sounds of the people you killed!”

Sukuna froze, realizing that you were not just an ordinary jujutsu user. Catching him while he was still confounded, you put all your force into an aggressive headbutt. He stumbled back a few feet before growling at the dripping blood from his scalp. When he looked up, a smirked was smeared across his blood-stained face, “You’ll die here.”

His hands joined, making the symbol for a domain expansion spell. However, you temporary gained his powers after touching his arm a few moments ago. As he opened his mouth, you cut him off while bringing your hands together, “Domain Expansion!”

“What?”

Your eyes rolled back, “Malevolent shrine!”

The domain built around him, fear striking Sukuna’s mind at the sight of seeing you mimic his powers. His technique was too powerful for your body to handle though, causing you to stumble. You blinked twice before coughing up blood into your hands. Sukuna walked forward as the domain fell apart, his interest being piqued at how your powers work.

Looking up at Sukuna, blood fell from the crevices of your lips before you fell onto the ground. His powers completely defeated you from within, being too harsh on your body. When you hit the ground, all that was in your tunnel of vision was black. It felt like it was just a few minutes that you had been knocked out, but when you opened your eyes, the forest surrounding you was nearly pitch black.

“You snore.”

Hearing Sukuna’s voice, your body snapped up from the ground beneath you to find him sitting against an oak log. When you tried to use your hands to fight him, you quickly became aware that they were tied up. You huffed at the feeling of the rope while noticing the black kimono you wore had been taken off to reveal your white Cossack.

Sukuna’s lids opened to reveal crimson-colored eyes. In his current state, he was back to being inkless and having two arms. He glared at you with a sense of sternness, “Tell me how you did that.”

“Did what?” You snapped back, having no respect for him.

“Listen,” he stood and walked over to you, bending his knees down so his face would be in yours, “Only reason you are alive right now is because I say so. So, either tell me how you did it, or I’ll cut your hands off with my fingernails.” He sat down in front of you, crossing his legs and arms.

To be honest, death seemed better than having to deal with this situation. Before replying to him, you had to think if you really wanted to explain your powers. Either way around, you were going to die so it didn’t matter. Talking about your powers only delays your inevitable future. And it’s obviously been hours, so if help would have come, they were either killed by Sukuna or never came.

You sighed, leaning your head back before making eye contact with him. “My technique was used by ancient sorcerers; They call it ‘Somnium Nexum’.”

“I know all of the jujutsu techniques; how come I have never heard of yours?”

“Well, if you would shut the fuck up then I could explain.”

Sukuna rolled his eyes at your disrespect, “Why do the generations become more disrespectful with each passing year?”

“Do you really have room to talk about disrespect?” You huffed, continuing, “My technique hasn’t been seen for hundreds of years now. It went extinct, until I was born that is. My hands… I use them to transfer memories to people, see memories of people, and temporarily steal people’s powers. That’s how I did it.”

“Those sounds were the people I killed. You were there that day?”

“Of course I was!” You shouted, anger filling your voice as tears formed at the edges of your eyes, “You killed people I loved! You ruined peoples lives…. WHY?! WHAT DID YOU GAIN?”

“I gained revenge.”

Silence fell between the two of you. The moon’s reflected light shined against your eyes as tears rolled down your flustered cheeks. Your lips parted to speak, but there were no words. Revenge? It didn’t make sense to you. What did all those people do to cause an anger such as his to exist?

Sukuna broke the silence, “If you run, I’ll kill you.” He leaned forward and reached a hand behind you, his lips being uncomfortably close to yours. Your thoughts closed at hearing a ripping sound, his hand pulling back.

“Look into my memories, and whatever questions you have will be answered. But then you’ll answer mine.”

You hesitated to move your hands, feeling fear in the back of your mind at how calm he was. Just a few hours ago, this man was trying to murder you in cold blood, but now he is acting… soft? It didn’t settle in your gut too well, but you had no other choice than to do what he says. Complying to his request, you raised your hand to rest the palm of it on his lower check and jawline.

“Close your eyes.” You commanded while closing yours.

He obediently closed them, letting the connection into his nervous system open into yours. The tears that were made at the thought of your dead classmates shifted towards tears of pain upon seeing Sukuna’s memories.

You watched from the background as jujutsu sorcerers stormed his childhood village and burned everything to the ground, both curses and humans alike. A young Sukuna was in the middle of it all, screaming for his mother as the fire surrounded him. From the fires, a sorcerer ran through and picked him up.

Sukuna screamed and kicked at the masked sorcerer. You noticed though, that the very badge that was embroidered onto your shirt was the same badge of the sorcerer carrying him.

When you turned to see where he was being carried, you noticed only the children were spared. You covered your mouth in disgust, seeing crying kids from ages of newborns to 5-year-olds being carried away. You watched a young Sukuna let out a loud screeching sound, black markings appearing on his face as his eyes turned red.

He sunk his teeth into the sorcerers’ shoulder and killed them, trying to run away before being caught by two other sorcerers who put him to sleep. One said through his mask, “This one is strong with cursed energy, he needs to be cleansed.”

You watched them carry him away. When you turned back around, you saw another memory of Sukuna at a slightly older age being tortured on a table as an instruction screamed out, “YOU ARE A DISGRACE!” Another memory appeared, the child being much older now as he sat in his room and communicated with a curse in its own language.

Memories upon memories flashed before your eyes of him training, talking to curses, and being tortured by humans. Then the memory that stained your mind of blood had appeared. The boy used his malevolent shrine against students and teachers alike, causing chaos with curses following behind him wherever he stepped.

Squinting to notice, you saw a pained look within his eyes as he killed the students that tried to fight him. He bent down to one and closed their eyes, “Humans have become the virus of this world. Jujutsu scholars are the creators of the virus.”

You came out of the link, speechless at everything you had just seen. Taking a deep breath, you looked into Sukuna’s eyes, “Why did they burn your village?”

He turned his neck to look away from your eyes, not wanting to be the person that breaks the truth to you. Although Sukuna didn’t know your name, he still felt an aching sensation at the bottom of his heart for you. There was finally someone else that he could tell of his secrets, but they were too painful. Yet he knew if he didn’t tell you, and instead killed you or forced you to go back, that you would never have a normal life anyways.

“Tell me, what’s your name?”

“Y/n L/n- but my name is not important. Tell me why they did that…”

“Y/n, do you know who your parents are?”

“Of course not. They sent me to the school when I was…”

“When you were what?”

Excruciating amounts of pain began to fill your heart. You saw the point he was making, and it stung your heart in an abundance of different ways. Everything around you seemed to disappear as you tried to remember who you were before attending this school. All that was found was blankness.

The early morning sky that beamed with stars of different shades seemed to become brighter as everything began to click. Nature surrounded you in this moment of harsh realization. It was comforting knowing that possibly a forest god was watching over you in the greens of their garden, but nonetheless painful.

You whispered with a cracking voice, “Why… Why did they tell us our parents sent us here…?”

“It was a coverup. Japan has become innovative these past two centuries, meaning out with the old and in with the new. Jujutsu sorcerers were falling behind, meaning they would eventually die out. So, they resorted to pillaging children. Although our fight was short, I can see that you have great strength and intelligence with your powers. You must have been a newborn when you were taken; otherwise, you’d remember.”

So many emotions ran through your mind all at once. Sorrow, pain, anger, rage, weakness, all of it. You hesitated, “So... -So, I never even had a chance?”

Sukuna looked into your eyes, “No.”

You gasped, feeling as if your lungs were collapsing while your breathing grew erratic. Everything you ever knew was a lie, and everything you were ever told was a lie. Any relationships you ever had with teachers was a lie, while any relationship you ever had with your classmates was fake. Sukuna saw how you struggled to take this information in, but he didn’t know how to make it easier for you.

‘Is there even an easy way out of this information?’ He thought to himself. Sukuna always knew everything around him was not real, so he couldn’t imagine the things you were feeling.

“Why didn’t… why didn’t you tell anyone? Why didn’t you try to find a way out and save everyone?”

Sukuna snapped back, “All of those kids are brainwashed beyond oblivion. Did you forget what you tried to do to me a few hours ago? If I were a normal person, you would have killed with that thing you did with your hands; And If I tried to tell people everything they ever knew was a lie, I would be dead.”

You slowly crawled backwards as he moved forward, “Do you think I caused all of that destruction alone? No. I had the help of curses, who are the only damn things that see humans for the shit they are! Over the years I have been out here alone, training and preparing myself for when I can defeat even the strongest of sorcerers.”

When he realized how uncomfortable you had become by his advancing, Sukuna moved back. “There was no helping them. The only reason I told you was because you would be forced to believe me.”

He was right. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, Sukuna was right. They would all try to kill him if he told them what had known on all along. Humanity’s biggest fault will always be the fact that they are afraid of the unknown, and when someone tries to show them the truth of the unknown, they freak out in fear. The only reason you were not freaking out was because there was no unknown; you saw it all with your own eyes through his memories.

“Tell me, what are you going to do now?” He asked, slicing your thoughts in half.

That was a loaded question for the current situation, but it was a question that needed an answer. You cannot go back now, otherwise they would find out you know more than you should with how bad of a liar you are. For all they know, you are most likely dead right now and not worth looking for. You were just another slave to the elders’ horrific commands.

“I don’t know… Run away maybe? Get out the country while I can? But even then, sorcerers are all around the world. I would get caught and be killed eventually. Do the rest of the sorcerers around the world know about Japan’s doings?”

Sukuna scratched at his head, “I don’t know. I never tried to leave, but I was never bothered until now either.”

The sun began to rise, cracks of its light seeping through the forest trees as the night faded to the back of the forest. You bowed your head with a loud sigh, not knowing what your next move will be. Confusion filled your mind while the rising sun’s warmth worked to comfort you in this state of despair. With your emotions being thrown around like a tossed salad, the silence sounded so loud right now.

Sukuna broke the silence by hesitantly suggesting, “Stay here with me, y/n. Just for another day or two. I want to know more of these powers of yours. Maybe by then you’ll figure something out.”

You looked at him with such curious eyes, seeing him totally shift from the manic demon he was yesterday to this calm man who had a vengeful heart filled with pain. Crossing your arms, you asked with a sarcastic tone, “Where do you even live?”

“Are you suggesting I sleep in the woods like an animal?”

“Perhaps.”

He rolled his eyes while clicking his tongue, “Farther up in the mountains. I live by a hidden spring.”

You tried to stand up with Sukuna, leaning on the tree for support. He forgot that a rib or two of yours had been broken upon contact when fighting with each other earlier, making him cringe at remembering how quick he was to become defensive. “Here.” He turned around, getting on his knees. Sukuna motioned for you to get on his back, it being easier on your ribs for him to carry you this way.

Click here for a nice theme song. <3

Sukuna carried you to a log cabin he had built in the time he spent out here. For a few days, your aching body rested there as you thought of your next move. However, those thoughts eventually fled your mind. Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months, and months turned to years. Time passed on as you stayed hidden away deep within the forest with Sukuna. Over time, his vengeance was forgotten with you at his side. All both of you wanted was to enjoy the peace of solitude together.

Everything had been so peaceful over the years. Sometimes you and Sukuna would bicker as lovers do, especially since you two were the only ones you talked to besides curses, but ultimately both of you were happy. That was until the world decided peace was never a real option for anyone in this violently terrifying world.

Morning dew clung onto the windows of the cabin you shared with your husband. It was the break of dawn as you awoke next to a sleeping Sukuna. He lowly grumbled at your movements, pulling you back into the bed by your waist. “What are you doing?” He quietly asked with a scruffy morning voice while hovering over you. Loose strains of hair covered your eyes, Sukuna moving them so he could have a better look at you.

You held onto the back of his neck with your bandaged hands, “I’m going to the springs for a quick wash.”

The shirtless man lightly kissed at your cheek, moving lower to your neck as he gripped onto your hips to keep you below him. As tempting as it was to stay in bed with him and enjoy some morning affairs, your bones ached from the hunting that was done the day before. With a roll of your eyes, you pushed the built man from your body as if he was a feather.

He let out a loud groan while moaning, “I should have never trained you to become that strong.”

“Oh shush, I’ll be back soon you whiney child.”

You put on a long, white yukata before heading outside to greet the horses you and Sukuna had tamed. “Good morning Ryko,” you sang while petting the horse’s neck before mounting her. You rode just a few minutes upwards towards the east, where the hidden springs lied. Winter was beginning to fade as spring slowly made its way into season, so hunting is hard for you and Sukuna.

Usually in the winter months is when your back and sides ache from your fight all those years ago with him. The best way for you to sooth your pains is to relax in the warm springs that nature provided in the mornings or late afternoons.

Upon reaching the springs, you jumped off Ryko and led her towards a tree to keep her tied at. However, you began to feel uneasy at how Ryko kept neighing and trying to back away from the tree. “Shhh, girl. Nobody is here.”

The sound of other horses made you eat your words. Your eyes widened as you turned, jumping out of the way at the sound of a metal mechanism clicking and firing. Ryko was shot in the head, her body falling over and bleeding out in the snow. Panic filled your body, being caught completely off guard. What were they shooting with and why was it so fast? When you looked up, you noticed the people on the horses had the same symbol of your previous school.

“Son of a bitch…,” you spoke, furrowing your brows at the sight of them. You had no weapons on you, forgetting to bring your bow and arrow for long distance defense. From the bottom of your lungs, you screamed out, “SUKUNA!!”

As soon as you said the name, the sorcerers began to panic, “She said his name!”

“Quick, kill her before he comes! She must be a witch!”

“What if he kills us?!”

“JUST DO IT!”

You were already on your feet, taking off as fast as you possibly could. As much as you wanted to fight with the physical strength you had gained over the years, you knew the helplessness of your abilities. Even if you could outsmart them and bruise their physical appearance, you were no match for 5 sorcerers with guns all at once with your jujutsu technique. You may be a powerful jujutsu sorcerer alongside Sukuna, but long-range fighting was never an option with your technique.

Speeding into the distance with all you had, the freezing temperature of the snow against bare human feet was only making it worse for you. You had hope that you could run into the woods just in time, but there is no shift in what a speeding bullet does to a human body.

While a few minutes away, the first shot had Sukuna on his feet. His eyes flung open, the nerve-wracking sound of a weapon he didn’t recognize that is not too far caused him to panic. His tattoos appeared as he walked out into the snow barefoot with only palazzos on. He began running into the direction of the sound, knowing he would be faster on foot than on horseback.

From the distance, Sukuna heard his name being screamed out by your voice, which struck fear into his heart. The scream was followed by another shot not even 30 seconds later. He picked up his speed, tears forming at the edges of his rageful crimson eyes.

When he appeared from the branches, the sorcerers were taking off. As much as he wanted to pursue them, he needed to find you first. Before he could even see you, the stench of blood coming from his left filled his nose. He turned, and everything seemed to go into slow motion. He ran at your side, seeing you struggle to breathe from the bullet wound in your chest.

“Y/N, Y/N SAY SOMETHING!” He screamed out, falling onto the ground next to you. He held you up, putting his hands over the wound to try to stop the bleeding, “Come on, come on stay with me. It’s okay, it’s fine-“

“Ry-Suk…I…,” you struggled to breathe, blood flowing out of your chest faster than Sukuna could react too. His tears fell onto your cheeks as his hands became covered in your blood. The white Yukata you were wearing was turning an awful shade of red.

He pulled your hand up to his lower cheek, closing his eyes so you can start a link between him and you. When it started, you transferred everything you had seen to his memories so he would know what happened without you having to speak. When he opened his eyes, your hand fell from his cheek as your body quickly lost energy.

Sukuna held you in his now bloodied arms, rocking you back and forth while whispering, “It’s alright, you’re fine. Look at me, I’m right here.” He watched as you slowly lost consciousness, your eyes losing the spark of curiosity in them that he adored.

You blinked a few times, each time your eyes getting heavier and harder to keep open. You gave him a meek smile and croaked out, “When the sun rises again, will you find me?”

Rapid tears fell from both your eyes and his as he leaned his head into your chest, “I’ll find you.”

You looked into the sky with lazy eyes before shutting them for the final time. Your neck fell backwards, and your breathing stopped; Sukuna felt your heart’s final beat. Feeling your soul leave your body, he let out a loud scream into your chest that could be heard from miles away.

He sobbed into your cold body, only to lift his head with a newfound rage that has set his body on fire. His tearstained face spoke millions of words, all of them meaning the same thing: destruction. He laid your body against Ryko, kissing your forehead and whispering, “I’ll be back.”

Standing up with your blood staining his hands and torso, he morphed into his full form. His lips spread into a devilish smile as he ran his hands through his hair. His speed was almost at light, taking off into the forest while chasing the horse tracks in the snow.

The sorcerers rode at a fast pace, but it wasn’t fast enough. Sukuna passed them up, turning on his heels to face the oncoming horses. When they got close enough, he raised both of his hands and grabbed onto the horses’ heads, pushing them down into the ground. Both the horses and sorcerers riding them died from the impact, striking fear into the other sorcerers following behind them.

“TURN, NOW!” One yelled out before their head was ripped from their body by Sukuna’s hands. He called out with a demonic look in his eyes, “Don’t be afraid to come out my friends!” Curses of all grades came out from behind trees, sending everyone into a panic.

“SPREAD OUT!” A female sorcerer yelled out, making Sukuna turn. He ran into the horse, sending her and the horse flying into a tree. She let out a loud scream of pain as the horse landed on her legs, rendering her powerless. Sukuna approached her, bending down to be eye level with her as she panicked.

He tilted his head, “The person you happened to kill was my partner. And a partner is a man’s peace, but when they are taken, they become a man’s rage.” He grabbed her hair, ripping her body in half. “If they cannot live, nobody can! Women, children, and men alike! IT’S GOING TO BE A MASSACRE!”

Curses killed the sorcerers left and right, slaughtering both them and their horses. Ryomen Sukuna has died, but the king of curses has been born. Curses obeyed his every command in fear of his jujutsu techniques and inhumane abilities. The beginning of his world domination had just begun…

Over a thousand years has passed since that day, which brings Sukuna to the present. Yuji was in conversation with Megumi and Nobara, while Sukuna was off wondering around in Yuji’s head. However, a certain name caught his attention.

“Yeah! I heard they use an ancient technique called ‘Somnium Nexium’, it’s only been seen a handful of times in the last few hundred years.” Nobara chanted while walking with her friends.

Sukuna turned his head at the sound, awakening on Yuji’s face, “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“Sukuna, go back!” Yuji yelled, groaning at the annoying curse.

He snapped back, “Oh shut the hell up. I heard Somnium Nexium.”

Megumi spoke, “There’s a new student. They use that power.”

“I bet your old ass has seen it before,” Nobara laughed.

Sukuna growled, “Matter of fact I have, and this brat could probably kill all of you with just one hand.”

Nobara’s shoulders shot up at his words, while Megumi cringed at the fact he’s most likely right. Yuji was just interested in getting to see them like the others though. However, the day was near its end, and everyone was heading into their rooms for the night. Yuji might have slept like a baby, but Sukuna stayed up in his mind all night.

He wanted to believe there was a possibility that it could be you, but from what the kids said, other people have been seen using the same ability. Wanting to dismiss the idea, Sukuna tried to not think on it and instead walk around Yuji’s head to annoy him, but that failed.

Night faded into day as the stars kissed the sky good morning. Another day began, and nothing was out of the usual. Just Sukuna being pissed he’s still in Yuji’s body after all of this time and training per usual.

Yuji made his way out of the dormitories after getting dressed, heading outside to see where Megumi was. He was also hoping to run into the new student so he could get to brag to Nobara that he meant them first. While walking down the outside corridor, Yuji pulled out his phone to text the group chat. In the midst of typing, he bumped into a student wearing a navy Hakama with a black kimono, the traditional sword training outfit for students.

For those who enjoy some theme music.(again hehe)

“Oh sor- Wait a second, you must be the new student! I’m Yuji Itadori.” He quickly bowed, giving you a large smile. Sukuna snapped out of his thoughts upon hearing Yuji’s thoughts when running into you; He hastily said within his mind, “Enchain!”

The sun took its place a tad higher in the sky to where it beamed against you. Your skin had a warm tone to it as the sun reflected into your eyes to create a small glint. Bowing your head as Sukuna took over Yuji’s body, you raised your head with closed eyes and smiled, “I’m Y/n L/n.”

When you opened your eyes, Yuji’s body had switched into Sukuna’s. It startled you before remembering that he was Sukuna’s vessel; yet it also felt as if you have meant Sukuna before. “You must be Sukuna. I feel honored that the king of curses took over Yuji just to see me,” you said with tremendous amounts of sarcasm.

Sukuna was speechless, his breathing going shaky at the sight of you. “Is it really you?”

You raised a brow while crossing your arms, “What are you talking about?”

He walked forward, wanting to get a closer look at your facial features. However, him walking closer caused you to back up out of discomfort. Your back hit against the railing of the wooden pathway, making you nervous. You snapped with a serious tone while ungloving your hands behind your back, “What do you want?!”

There was no response, just wide eyes, and a wide mouth. “Hey!” You yelled, but there was no response. Out of fear, you pulled your hand out and tried to grab his wrist to show something to scare him, but he already knew your move. Sukuna caught you by the wrist, then examined it to see if it was the same hand you had before.

Your eyes widened at how he knew what you were going to do, making fear begin to take over your body. “Don’t be afraid,” he spoke while moving your hand to his lower cheek. “Just… try to remember me.” So many questions ran throughout your mind, such as how did he know that people’s faces are what she touches? Either way, you were too afraid to decline what he was implying, so you closed your eyes at the same time as him.

The connection opened, allowing you to go into his memories. You walked around his mind, seeing yourself from his eyes whenever you first meant him over 1000 years ago. The memories flashed before your eyes, not understanding why you see yourself and how that was possible. Every bitter, sweet, intimate, aggressive, happy, and sad moment he ever had with you flashed before your eyes.

Colors you had never even seen before flashed past your eyes, showing you every detail of every moment you ever experienced with Sukuna. You saw a memory of yourself holding a bow and arrow, aiming it at a deer from far in the forest. When you took the shot, it struck the deer into the side.

You relaxed your shoulders, sighing in relief at making the hit. Sukuna watched with his arms crossed, “There’s so many ways that I love you, but by far my favorite way to love you is to watch you.”

With the roll of your eyes and a small smirk, you blushed and playfully punched his shoulder, “Let’s go get our dinner.”

Sukuna “loved” you? The sensations your body felt were foreign, making you feel nervous. There were moments where he held onto your hand while taking a walk through the forest, followed by other moments of him training with you in meadows. The moments you would hug his bare torso would turn into moments of intimacy, while moments of petty arguments would turn into moments of him holding you.

Love was the only thing you could feel from these memories. It was love that drove him to commit his crimes, and it was love when he would sit alone and ponder on what he’d do if he ever saw you again. He imagined that he would hug you tighter than he ever did before, destroy the world with you, and tell you everything he didn’t get to tell you before.

A squeezing sensation pained your heart, making you become so overwhelmed that you ripped away from the link. Sukuna looked into your eyes, seeing that curious look he saw in your eyes all those centuries ago when you first meant him in the forest. Shaking with anxiety, you moved forward to slowly wrap your arms over his body. He followed into the embrace, squeezing your back with his muscular arms while crying into your shoulder.

It felt unreasonable to fall into being the person you were in a past life, but you felt all the things he felt for you back then. Seeing his memories opened so many things in your life, when all along you thought you were just some regular jujutsu sorcerer who is the new kid at this school. In truth, you were never normal; seeing his memories just proves that. You grew up having dreams as a child that were always too blurry to see anything, but looking back you now understand that those weren’t dreams; They were your past.

When you closed your eyes, everything in your mind went blank. Upon opening them, they looked the same but had a slight change of hue that was barely noticeable. You pushed Sukuna away from you, starting to feel your old memories flood back in. He looked at you with a confused expression, not understanding what you were doing until you grabbed his face.

Your hands held his cheeks as you examined his eyes, “Sukuna? Is it really you?” You moved his face to see all the angles of his structure, trying to see if this was him. “Oh…,” There was hesitation in your eyes before tears began to fall from them, “You found me…” Sukuna pulled you back into the tight embrace of each other’s arms, holding onto one another like the world is falling apart around you.

From behind the corner, Megumi and Nobara watched with worried looks painted across their face. She whispered, “I feel like something bad just happened.”

There was rage within you, feeling your insides ache at the memory of how you died coming back to you. You were still the same person before gaining your memories back, but now enlightened of who you really were. Sukuna pulled back from the hug, looking beyond your eyes and into your soul. He could see the hungry look of vengeance within you.

Sukuna felt his time nearing its end as Yuji was fighting to come back in. He quickly held onto your shoulders with a crazed look in his crimson eyes, “Y/n, in due time we will take our revenge. Me and you, we will destroy the world.”

The next time the sun rises for Sukuna will be the last time it rises for the world.

⥈⥈⥈⥈⥈⥈⥈⥈⥈⥈⥈⥈⥈⥈

[lunar-wandering]

Turning Keys

welcome back to the Forget-Me-Not AU everyone! (the title of this one is uh. based on the song The Other Side. because i have an entire mental animatic of this scene set to it ahkdfjhsldfkdjls)

this one pretty much picks up where Shattered Masks left off.

Word Count: 2.5k

Read on Ao3

The birds chirped in the distance. A breeze blew through MK's hair, rustling it gently. A small squirrel climbed its way up a tree trunk. The sun had dipped entirely below the horizon, the moon illuminating the clear night sky.

MK noticed none of it, entirely focused on the impossibility that was standing in front of him.

The Monkey King, Sun Wukong had... come back to life?

If MK's eyes weren't deceiving him (and maybe they were, maybe this was some weird side effect of pulling the staff, hallucinations-), then it was true. A legend had been brought back to life.

A legend who was the Lady's sworn nemesis.

A legend MK had just freed.

A legend who was staring at him like he'd just seen a dead man brought back to life. (Which wasn't that ironic?)

It was at this thought that MK realized he had yet to speak a single word, or break eye contact with Wukong. Quickly, he glanced away, looking down at the staff he held in his hands.

He mentally pleaded for this to not be really happening right now.

But he could still feel his hands sting, his water-soaked clothes sticking to his body, and the blood dripping from the cuts on his cheeks.

This was real.

...

This was really bad.

The Lady would kill him if she found out about this. Releasing the Monkey King would absolutely be the number one way for MK to get himself a one way ticket to being murdered.

And he'd just gone and done it.

Well. Maybe he could salvage this. If he just left now, returned to the Lady with the staff, and didn't mention the Monkey King, then maybe he could swing by unscathed. Wukong did look rather weak right now, MK could only guess that 200 years of being stone probably takes it toll on people.

In this condition, the Monkey King would be of no threat to the Lady, and, in fact, barely even be noticed at all.

MK just needed to be sure she didn't notice.

Mind made up, he turned to leave the garden.

-

It was Xiaotian, but...not.

That, was Wukong's first impression of the person standing before him.

For a moment, he had considered if some random demon had stolen Xiaotian's form, but had quickly dismissed the idea.

...He kinda almost wished that were the case, though.

Reincarnation was a very tricky thing. Wukong, if he's being honest, didn't quite like the idea of messing with it, much less even thinking about it.

Yet here he was, face to face with the reincarnation of the kid he'd once trained.

...The kid he had lost.

He couldn't let that get to him though, the not-Xiaotian had just drawn the staff after all, he'd have to talk with him, find out more about what was going on (did he know that he was a reincarnation of Xiaotian??? That should probably be the first question he asks him actually-)

By the time Wukong pulls himself together enough to look the other in the eyes again, not-Xiaotian has turned around and seems to be about to start walking away. In a rush of panic, Wukong stood up too fast, stumbling a little, woozy as black spots momentarily filled his vision. He didn't let this stop him however.

"Kid, wait!" He grabbed hold of the edge of the other's shirt, just barely keeping himself from falling and bringing the other down with him. The kid paused, looking back at him with- was that fear? Wukong's mind suddenly blanked as he struggled for something to say. "Um. Hey-uh, what's your name?"

Not the question he'd wanted to start with, but it'd work.

".....It's....Xiaotian...but I go by MK?" The look of fear wasn't gone from the other's eyes, but there was confusion in there now too.

....He probably didn't have his memories from before then. Likely didn't know he was a reincarnation either, he would probably have mentioned it if he had, that would definitely be the kinda thing you'd mention in an introduction right?

Well. The only thing he could do would be to start from the beginning, he supposed.

"MK, then." Wukong let go of MK's shirt, pretending to not notice the sigh of relief the other gave. "How'd you like to be my successor?"

"...What?"

"Become my successor!" Wukong took a step back, spreading his arms out as though to better convey the idea. "You pulled the staff, so obviously you can have the same powers I do! I'll teach you everything you need to know."

"Uhh..." MK looked....hesitant, though Wukong couldn't imagine why.

"C'mon, don't you want to learn how to do this?" Wukong asked, forming a hair clone and having it spin him around, ending with the clone holding him in a dip. MK watched him do this with bewildered confusion.

"....No?" He said, and the sheer shock of receiving a negative response caused Wukong's hair clone to vanish, the Monkey King dropping unceremoniously onto the stone ground at the sudden lack of support.

"N- What do you mean no?" Wukong looked at MK in disbelief as he hurriedly stood up again. He honestly hadn't had much of a plan here but-

Why would anyone, especially a reincarnation of Xiaotian, say no to learning the Monkey King's powers?

"I mean no." MK seemed a bit more confident now, resting the staff on his shoulder. "I've got what I came for, so I'll just. Be going now."

While Wukong continued to stand there, shocked, MK turned around, stepping over the small moat and walking down one of the garden paths.

A tingling feeling started in Wukong's foot.

Glancing down, he could see stone starting to form on the edges of his foot, spreading more as MK kept walking away.

.....Shit.

"Ah- Hey, wait!" Wukong followed after MK, easily catching up to him, the stone fading away again as he did, and turning around to walk backwards so that he could face him as they moved. "Are you sure? I assure you, I'm not lying about teaching you-"

"Already been taught everything I could ever possibly need to know, thanks." MK's stride didn't even falter. Wukong didn't back down either, still walking in time with MK, but now taking a moment to study the other again, contemplating.

It took a moment, but eventually Wukong reached the horrifying, true, confusion.

MK, the reincarnation of Xiaotian, his successor, absolutely reeked of the Lady Bone Demon's influence.

He was shocked that he hadn't noticed it earlier, honestly. The aura of cold, fear, and evil was practically leaking off of MK.

It made sense, obviously. Of course she would find the reincarnation of his successor. Of course she would twist him into her own little pawn.

Well. Wukong wasn't going to let that stand.

Not on his watch.

"Are you sure she's taught you everything?" Wukong stopped walking, MK having to stop as well to avoid bumping into him. "Surely you must've caught on to the Lady's real colours by now."

"...I have no idea what you're talking about." MK wasn't meeting his eyes anymore, instead keeping his head down.

"Whatever she's told you isn't true." Wukong used his tail to lift MK's chin up, looking him directly in the eyes. "I'm not your enemy, kid."

A golden flash appeared in MK's eyes, there and then gone, and he winced, dropping the staff as he used both hands to rub at his eyes, a bit of the blood from the cuts underneath of them smearing a little. Wukong expertly caught the staff with his hand, transferring it to be held in his tail and holding it behind him, just out of MK's reach as he waited for the other to adjust to...whatever had just happened. He wasn't entirely sure. Golden vision, maybe, but that didn't feel exactly right.

But he wasn't given time to puzzle it out, as MK was already lowering his hands, seemingly realizing the staff was no longer held within them. He blinked, his eyes narrowed, before focusing in on Wukong, noting the staff being held in the monkey's tail.

"Hey!" He reached out, trying to grab it, Wukong expertly dodging to the side, continuing to hold the staff just out of MK's reach. "Give that back- I need that!"

"What for? To doom the world?" Wukong asked, the small game of cat and mouse continuing as he carefully led MK back towards the pedestal. "The Lady's intentions aren't good. Trust me kid, as soon as she gets what she wants, everyone will be subjected to her pre-planned 'destiny'."

"You think I don't know that?!" MK twisted and- ooh, that was a dagger, where had he been hiding that-

Wukong felt the weapon sail past the side of his head, cutting off a few hairs as it did so, planting itself in a tree a few feet behind him. Huh, the kid had some pretty good aim, needed a bit more improvement on the speed but other than that-

Wukong was forcibly brought back to the present moment as MK elbowed him in the face. He stumbled back, still managing to keep the staff out of the other's reach, one hand rubbing his face while he continued to dodge MK's attacks. The hit hadn't actually hurt, but he supposed the fact MK had managed to land a hit at all did show that the kid had definitely had some form of combat training.

(That'd make things easier for him, in the long run. He didn't think he could handle training someone from the ground up again.

...Especially someone that wore his original successor's face.)

"If you know the Lady Bone Demon is evil, then why are you still working for her?" Wukong asked, eyeing the other with concern. (There weren't any obvious signs of possession or anything of the like, but he didn't want to be taking any chances.)

"Because that's the only way to be safe!" MK tried to punch him, but Wukong caught his fist with one hand, waiting patiently as MK panted, having over-exerted himself from trying to fight so soon after lifting the staff. "If- if I run away, she'll find me, and I'll be punished. But- if I complete my mission, get on her good side-"

"Kid, I hate to break this to you, but she doesn't exactly have a good side." Wukong said, "Pretty sure all sides of her are bad. Her angles are all bad too, not a single righteous one. She's like an oblique triangle, no right angles."

MK slumped, letting out a half-hearted chuckle, and Wukong took that as a win.

He slowly let go of MK's fist, and MK let his hand fall down limply.

"Well....what do you think I should do?" MK asked, eyes still following the staff as Wukong walked to the left. They'd reached the pedestal again, and Wukong knelt down, picking some forget-me-nots out of the ground, easily weaving them into a bracelet. He whispered some words to it, the flowers flashing gold for a brief moment, before returning to look like normal.

"Here." Wukong held out the bracelet. "Wear this."

"...I didn't know the great, legendary Monkey King had a hobby of making flower bracelets." MK joked, hesitantly taking the bracelet, holding it between his fingers and making no motion to put it on. Wukong rolled his eyes.

"It's a protective charm." He explained, flicking MK lightly on the head. "It'll keep the Lady Bone Demon and her forces from recognizing you."

"...You can do that?"

"Kid, I'm the Monkey King, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven. I can do anything."

MK hesitated for a moment longer, before sliding the bracelet over his wrist. Nothing seemed to obviously change, but Wukong mentally sighed in relief as the Lady's cold aura left MK's being completely. It wasn't a perfect charm, he'd have to add more power to it later, once his own abilities were more up to par, but it would do for now.

-

MK stared at the bracelet on his wrist. It didn't obviously seem to do anything, but MK almost could sense a kind of....warm power pulsing from it.

It was nice.

Soothing.

A far cry from the Lady's panic inducing cold.

MK looked back up to see the Monkey King was still standing in front of him, but now he had the staff in his hand, holding it out, offering it.

"...Y'know what?" MK wrapped his hand around the staff, feeling the electric power course through his veins again. "I think I'll take you up on your apprenticeship offer."

He wasn't fully confident in, nor did he trust, the Monkey King.

But to be honest, he trusted the Lady even less.

"Great!" Wukong said, before a smirk appeared on his face. "This is for elbowing me in the face by the way."

"What-"

Before MK could react, he was being pushed down into the moat. He spluttered, spitting out water, before glaring up at the giggling Monkey King.

"Aw, c'mon, you were already soaked anyways! Actually, tell you what, you just stay right there for a moment, I think I saw a shed earlier, I can probably find you some dry clothes to change into in there.... I'll be back in a second!" Wukong turned around, walking off into a more wooded part of the garden. MK also vaguely remembered having seen a some form of building in that direction, so considering the monkey's story checked out, he sighed, resigning himself to sitting in the moat as he waited. He stared at his reflection, analyzing the cuts on his face.

As he turned his head, the light of the moon hit the amulet around his neck, illuminating it.

His eyes flashed gold.

And his reflection rippled, despite nothing disturbing the water, the image contorting until-

It was still his own face. But it wasn't...him.

The different clothes and the long hair were a dead give away that something was off.

"Heh, that's Monkey King for you. Good to know that he hasn't changed. I guess being set in stone would do that though..."

MK remained silent, terrified as his reflection spoke, the words echoing within his own mind. He leaned back in fear as his reflection suddenly moved, climbing out of the water, become golden and see through as it emerged, before hovering a few inches above the moat, looking off in the direction Wukong had gone.

"He's probably using this chance to pull himself together a bit, not that you can blame him I guess, seeing his successor's face again was probably a sho- oh."

The see through version of him paused, finally noticing MK's shocked a fearful face.

"Uh. Can you see me?"

MK slowly nodded, still not entirely sure what was going on.

"Oh. Well, this is awkward."

"Who are you?" MK whispered, watching as the golden form laughed nervously. 

"Ha ha, uh. Well, I didn't really expect this to happen but, well. It's nice to 'officially' meet you MK, my names Xiaotian, and I'm your past self."

[pastelsandpining]

✨ Hey ✨ Can I order a . . . 5, 27, and 33? 👀 With a Zelink as the main course? (TP) <3

this is not my best work and it's incredibly over due but!!

Solace

words: 1526

warnings: as always read with caution; mentions of grief, homesickness

Masterlist | Prompt List | Touch Prompts

------

The Princess of Hyrule was regal and elegant, and everything that any other aspiring queen could only hope to be. Refined, proper, just, and wise beyond her years, and yet, he could see the silent struggle she carried. He did not pretend to know her; he was nothing but a farmhand who’d been given the sword of destiny and knew nothing about running a kingdom, pulling it from ruin, balancing personal trauma atop the trauma of thousands, repairing diplomatic relationships and boundaries, or governing a people that stretched from icy mountains to scalding deserts. The inability to belong in Ordon, to fit in with those who loved him enough to mourn him instead of adapt to who he’d become, did not mean he could insert himself into the life of castles and crowns.

And still, Link found himself keeping an eye on her. The first time he noticed her grabbing her wrist was during a meeting with the general in the early days of his recruitment. He’d pray for forgiveness every night for how he looked at her, studying her as if she could give him whatever it was that he was looking for, and he chastised himself for the needless concern. She was royalty, a goddess reincarnate. She probably had hundreds of people waiting on her constantly, attending to her every need and taking notice of every little sign of distress or trouble. He said nothing to anyone about it, but he still found it odd she’d done it multiple times in what was only a half-hour time frame.

The next time he was close enough to see her repeat the action, a fair amount of time had passed. Princess Zelda had warned him that, should he accept her invitation to join the knights of the castle and teach them what he knew, he would have to undergo months of training before he was deemed of high enough rank to offer any sort of knowledge that could be considered useful. The training was intensive, but it was easy compared to holding the weight of the world on his shoulders.

It was during the knighting ceremony, when he was watching her instead of listening to the speech of the general, when he saw her grab her wrist. No, not her entire wrist. Two fingers were pressed to one small, specific area—her pulse point. She was checking her pulse.

Such an innocent action made him feel dirty, as if it was something he shouldn’t have noticed. Maybe if he was anyone else, he wouldn’t. But Link had grown very observant of people and their actions within the last few years. If only he knew what it meant, but he didn’t.

For all of the courage he possessed, it took a little bit of liquid luck to get him to ask. She’d cordially invited him to a small celebration (why specifically for him, he would never know) that same night, and maybe both of them were drinking for some sort of anesthetic relief.

“It reminds me that I’m alive,” she answered, lifting her fingers to the pulse point in her wrist again, “at times my body no longer feels like myself, or when I remember what it looked like, limp and lifeless.”

“Is it comforting?” he asked curiously.

“I don’t know.”

A beat of awkward silence hovered in the air between them. Then, Zelda held her wrist out towards him. An invitation, maybe--or at least, that’s what he took it as, cupping her hand in one of his own to support it while the other settled two of its fingers against the artery in her wrist. The beat was steady and strong. The feeling was visceral, and he didn’t know why. What was it about the steady beat of blood traveling to and from the heart that set him off, had him thinking about her, and of Midna, and of Ilia, and of home? All things he’d lost to the twisted strings of fate, left only with a princess he wanted so desperately to but couldn’t reach. That was the cost no one ever spoke of, and he knew she felt it too. Maybe it was his offer of help, or maybe it was the one selfish thing he’d done since he left Ordon, but he lifted her hand just high enough to brush his lips against her pulse.

Link did not see the princess again for another month. He was whisked away to some outpost to keep a careful eye on the activity of a bokoblin pack, something boring that left him feeling limp and drained and longing for any sort of companionship. Sure, he got along well enough with other knights, particularly those he’d been training with, but it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t like the relationship he’d had with Ilia, or the closeness he had with Midna, or whatever he craved from Zelda.

When he did return, a too many, thirty-something days later, he wasn’t sure what he expected. He didn’t think he was fit for anything with the princess, but here she was, a mere few hours after his arrival, at the brink of tears as she asked, in a voice too small to fit the big role she filled, to speak with him.

Maybe the lack of company had gotten to her, too. He didn’t pretend to know her enough to make the assumption.

The garden was the most secluded place outside of her bedroom and as soon as she deemed they were far enough, she broke into a fit of sobs. Link had never seen the composed princess fall apart before. He couldn’t even ask what was wrong. All he could do was watch her in surprise, wracking his brain for what he was supposed to do when his superior in every way of existence cried.

Without a word, she held up a reflective shard that took no time to recognize as he took it from her hands. The weight shifted immediately, making him feel homesick for something he no longer had.

“Why do you have this?” he asked softly, fighting to look at Zelda instead of the Mirror of Twilight piece that he wasn’t sure he could trust his reflection with.

“It reminds me of… a dear friend,” she replied in the breaks between her gasps for breath. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have it. I should’ve given it to you sooner.”

She looked so...guilty over something. He didn’t understand where it was coming from, or why she was so sorry over something so trivial.

“It’s yours,” he argued. “Why give it to me?”

“You were close to her in a way I never could be.”

Link frowned, lowering the shard in favor of looking at her. She looked a mess. How long had she given herself to the effects of the mirror?

“That’s ridiculous,” he whispered as he placed the shard down on a bench, as far away from her as it could possibly get at that moment. “She loved you.”

“Why do we talk about her like she’s dead?”

Hylia above, he was so useless. He reached for her, circling his hand around hers, and searched for her pulse point. It seemed to ground her enough to where she could breathe again. When the gasps finally stopped, he pulled her towards him and wrapped her in a hug. It was all he could do as he whispered back, “It’s easier to let go that way.”

And just like that, the people of Ordon made sense to him. Just like that, Zelda dug her fingers into the back of his shirt and held him a little tighter. Just like that, whatever barrier was holding him back from pursuing a friendship, from being selfish just a little bit more, was broken.

Months of conversations between meals, or on night walks, brought them closer than he ever thought he’d get to be. Maybe, finally, Link was starting to heal from all he’d faced. Maybe she was starting too, as well. The dark circles were fading and she was gaining some well needed weight. She looked healthier, smiled easier, and he knew her well enough to make that assumption.

The turning point was the night of her coronation. Zelda felt well enough to pursue her crown, and they celebrated on their own after the grand ceremony, sipping wine and twirling each other about in her bedroom.

She was laughing. Her smile was beautiful and he couldn’t help grinning right back. Link hadn’t felt this warm, this complete in a long time. Maybe she felt it too, because she tugged him closer by the hands and covered his smile with her lips.

This was what he was looking for, he was sure. A sense of belonging, and never had he expected to find it with the queen of Hyrule, who was so far out of his league. She’d never hear it of course, which would lead to many playful arguments in the future, but for now, he was happy to kiss her, feel her pulse, and hug her close enough to restore the warmth he lost when he had to be away.

[taurustony]

The True Mighty Bison - Season V edition.

Some weeks ago, I had a very productive discussion on twitter with Steven Mane about the subject of this essay, and he brought up very good points, an alternative theory (not as out there as mine) and reminded me I haven't actually added the ACTUAL Seth info from his story and Arcade endings to this text. Now that even Rose is on the game (although she didn't bring new info on this front), Let's update this very wild theory about our favorite psycho powered dictator. For the day you discovered the truth about M. Bison was the most important of your Street Fighter fan life. But for them, it was only Tuesday. HEAVY SPOILERS FOR SETH'S SFV STORY MODE AND ENDING. and in a lesser intensity, Rose's. -----------------------------------------------------------------------------

This is M. Bison. Bison is one first class A-hole who runs the biggest crime syndicate on the world (Shadaloo), wants to spark global destruction if not given global domination and has a tendency to kidnap 16 year old girls.  Bison also wields something called Psycho Power. Through profane rituals (more of this in a bit), He is the biggest source/receptacle of it. this power is also destroying his body, which leads to the only thing he likes more than kidnapping 16 year old girls: Body Swapping. The body in the picture is not his original body, not even his first, but is the... model we are most used to see him using. This is how you would imagine him if one mentioned M. Bison. In SFV he finally got grey/white hair, but originally this body had black hair.

however...

These are Ed and Falke. They are CLONED Bodies of Bison, They are both spare bodies for M. Bison, created in a attempt to build a body strong enough to hold his power. They are both of the most recent attempt, the newer models so to speak. As far as we know, they are all biological (a point that will come up later) and since CAPCOM use the word CLONES, they share the same DNA as Bison. Physically speaking, they are around their late teens, although being much younger actually (both suffered from accelerated aging). They escaped Shadaloo due to the fact that an older model ended up destroying the base where they were being held. speaking of the Devil....

These are Seth and Abel.  Also, spare bodies of Bison. But (un)fortunately, they developed a conscience and independence. While Abel ran away and joined the french army, Seth created a splinter cell from Shadaloo called S.I.N. and planned a hostile takeover of the syndicate. One interesting fact is that both Seth and Abel are the SAME MODEL of bodies, but Seth installed the upgrade of the Tanden Engine on his body. So Seth was once like Abel and if given enough time and the proper modifications, Abel could become like Seth.  One recent release on Street Fighter V revealed the Seth was always more machine than man. If that is plainly due the Tanden Engine modification and what this means to Abel, its still unknown. both (Abel more than Seth) still have Bison’s DNA on them. Also, Bison considers this batch of clones a FAILED experiment Seth was the final Boss of Street Fighter IV, and Abel was the protagonist of that series. but, the older models are the more interesting ones.

These are Cammy and Decapre. Both are the oldest clone models player knew until recently. They are also fully biological and the first successful vessels for Psycho Power. Decapre is actually a “ Cammy Alpha“, a first attempt to create Cammy herself. Being fully biological, they ALSO carry Bison’s DNA. While Cammy became independent and joined the British Army, Decapre stayed brainwashed and a weapon for Shadaloo until recently (SFIV). Both Decapre and Cammy were part of a shadaloo project call “The Dolls project“: Most of the Dolls were the kidnapped teenage girls mentioned before, who were also test beds for Bison’s mind control via psycho power. There were 12 Dolls (Decapre and other 11), with Cammy being a 13th, codenamed Killer Bee. As of now, you probably noticed: 3 males, 3 females. We might be onto something here. But remember that profane ritual I mentioned? One of the results was this lady here...

This is Rose. In order to get full access to Psycho Power, Bison had to EXPEL ALL THE GOOD ENERGY FROM HIS SOUL. No joking. the good half of Bison’s Soul incarnated on a young Italian GIRL who was being born that moment and who grew up to be a incredible psychic and fortune teller ,plus the most powerful user of the SOUL POWER, the opposite to Bison’s Psycho Power. so Rose is the REINCARNATION of Bison’s soul, or at least half of it. After the events of SF Alpha 3, Bison even used Rose’s body as a vessel, to hide himself from the authorities. How she was freed and what happened to her during SFII is still unknown. Street Fighter V didn't really expanded on the relationship between Rose and Bison, as much as confirmed that as of the end of A Shadow Falls (SFV general story mode), Bison's is truly gone, at least as definitive as Rose can sense. Let's also remember that, until the interference of Rose herself, Cammy/Killer Bee was considered a succesfull attempt at creating the perfect body. If Rose hadn't freed Cammy's mind, which was as close to a blank slate and receptive as possible, its highly probable that Bison would be using her body instead. Still with me? STREET FIGHTER V: ARCADE EDITION added another point on this list: SETH was released in 2020 as a playable character, part of Season IV. HOWEVER, the FORM he appeared is quite the surprise.

THIS IS SETH! YES, THAT SAME SETH!! (a name tag on SFV confirms this is number 15, the seth that was at the center of SFIV events) After having all of his bodies destroyed during SFIV, his brain was placed by Juri on an old body known as DOLL UNIT 0. The interesting thing here is that Jury is doing this in behalf of a third party, identified only as voice on phone. This voice expected a male body, while Juri didn't even noticed (or cared) that Seth or DU0's had a gender. Doll Unit 0's body accepted Seth's biological brain without a problem. Seth's mind however, is on turmoil. When integrating with the DU0' original personality, something went wrong and Seth went completely batshit crazy. He only sees Psycho Power, and mistook Ed and Falke as being Bison himself, due to their Psycho Power energy. Some lines, such as this Seth is true perfection hints on a ongoing attempt of accepting the new body. The Arcade mode ending and an extra Seth on his Critical Art during his V-trigger 1 also hints that Seth's true power lies in the INTEGRATION with this new body. ALL OF THESE, ALL OF IT, are just canon facts from the SF series lore.  now for the speculation. Bison is not using the original body. And psycho power, specially the levels Bison desires, requires quite the strong one, which factors on why his current body is failing these days. why he had to abandon his original body? My only guess is that the profane ritual either destroyed it in the process or damaged it beyond repair. but at this point, Bison already had gained the power to posses other bodies. Doll Unit 0, the prototype for the perfect vessel, is female. Bison’s soul incarnated on a female body and until very recently, when his clone technology developed enough to create more radical deviations, the clones were all female. While there is several attempts of male bodies they are a late development and not only there is only one almost successful male body, it is the one that requires constant replacing AND Bison is trying to upgrade from, because it's not enough. But, the creation of a male body is stiil on the table and being attempted. Considering CAPCOM’s own words, that Seth is more machine than man, we can guess that Abel is probably just the biological basis for Seth, who is mostly the Tanden Engine and a biological brain. This is what was implemented into Doll Unit 0, who was completely female at that point, maybe even fully biological since Cammy, the earliest successful clone so far is fully biological as well. If we compare to real world cloning technology, cloning someone of the same gender is easier and more direct than altering the gender. Then there is the not-satated-but-extremely-obvious-fact that DU0 was the true first attempt at the tech that would produce Cammy, meaning, Shadaloo’s cloning tech was tested with HER. This also means that Doll Unit 0 IS EXTREMELY SIMILAR, IF NOT IDENTICAL, TO BISON'S ORIGINAL BODY. in conclusion: Bison’s original body is FEMALE and something close to this:

Thanks BbbSFXT from Deviant Art for the Mod and the picture. On the last version, I considered Mistress Bison being blonde, but thinking it through, it was more wishful thinking, trying to make them close to Cammy. Clones being a blonde is probably a side effect of DNA manipulation. Blond hair is recessive, and putting on the simplest, almost insulting way possible, it means blonde only happens if both sides of the DNA have the same code for hair. Since Bison is using the same DNA over and over, it makes sense clones would end up blonde. This also fits with DU0 being a very early prototype, with almost Bison's entire DNA intact, including the code for them hair. And now let's talk mysticism: There is the whole Yin/Yang theme surround everything Psycho Power, explicitly shown in Seth's design, but it was already there, at least as early as the Alpha/Zero series. In the balance of the Yin/Yang symbolism, Yin, the black part, can represent a “feminine principle” and also, can be a suffix/preffix meaning shadow. While Yang, the white part, can represent a “masculine principle” and also can be a suffix/preffix meaning light. these are parts in all living beings, be them male or female.

Psycho Power, the shadow, is feminine. Soul Power, the light, is masculine. There is a inversion of the symbolism here, with Bison, the male body, using the yin and Rose, the female body, using the yang. But the catch is: Rose is not a traditional reincarnation of Bison (obvious reasons) but received Bison's yang, on top of her natural one. This counts on why Rose is so powerful with Soul power. And while she doesn't seem to suffer a physical instability like Bison, as fortune teller and psychic, seem to be incredibly sensitive to strong emotions and energies around her (How the mind of G affected her on SFV being a exemple), I would argue that this extreme sensitiveness is the side effect of that extra yang energy. Let's also consider that while Bison wants MORE shadow and went way beyond what his natural body could hold, Rose stayed pretty much at her natural levels, as far as we know. So Bison's instability can be accounted as using insane levels of pure feminine energy inside a male body. Seth, the genderless one, will only find harmony in accepting his female body. Rose, the female body, is the only of them to have any kind of control and estability. This all points towards Mistress Bison, and that's the hill I'm dying on. this also ties to the idea proposed by Steven Mane: Psycho Power is closely related to the feminine and can't function properly, or at all, with men. Bison forcing that is the base reason for the physical instability. Which leads us to... ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Steven Mane's alternative theory of Psycho Power

The main gist here is that there isn't really any indication that Bison's OG body is any different from the one he uses today (which is true. There isn't a single line about it on the canon sources). The initial lack of male clones is accounted simply as that we haven't seen enough male clones, and they might have existed since Killer Bee's times. In his views, everything so far points to Bison desiring a male body. However, Psycho power works better with women, or was meant to be used by women. There is another fighting game with a similar plot, Skullgirls, in which the main McGuffin for that story is a mystical artifact that only works with women, which is why most of the cast of that game is female. And after Rose's SFV ending, I wouldn't put behind CAPCOM to lift another game's plot point for their own, specially one that would fit well with the already stablished canon. However, Steven Mane's best argument for this comes from SFA3 itself, or rather, the PSP version of SFA3. But before we get to that, let's go down on the memory lane and remember the facts.

Street Fighter Alpha 3 MAX, also known as Street Fighter Zero 3 Double Upper in Japan, is so far the last version of Street Fighter Alpha 3 released and it is an exclusive of the Playstation Portable console. The Alpha/Zero Series is the main focal point when talking about Bison and Psycho Power, as it's the series where Rose first appeared and in Alpha 3, we have the only canon appearance of Cammy as Killer Bee (on the intro of her first fight against Rose) and the first playable Dolls, Juli and Juni. SFA3 MAX is also, up to the publication of this, the only game in the series to have a guest character (the jury is still out on SFV last season V character). "Wait, Tony" you ask "Don't you mean 4 guest characters?" Eagle and Maki are not guests: They were always part of the Street Fighter franchise, and are contemporary to the events of the game . Yun makes a non-canon appearance which is explained by time travel (in his own quotes), since the events of Alpha series happen way when he was nothing but a toddler. But he is still part of the franchise, so not a guest, per se.

Ingrid, however, is a conundrum wrapped inside a enigma and kept inside a locked puzzle box missing some of its pieces. That is inside a cave inside a volcano under the pacific ocean. On the mariana trenches.

Ingrid is from a failed, unreleased CAPCOM game called CAPCOM Fighting All-Stars. Her first playable appearance is the ill-received crossover game CAPCOM Fighting Jam, known in Japan as CAPCOM Fighting Evolution.

In All-Stars, she was kind of a regular fighter, with a special importance to the plot and final boss. The very little we know about the plot hints on her being something beyond human. She carried a code Isis, is nicknamed the Eternal Goddess, and is said to posses the power of longevity.

On Fighting Jam, she has to solve some issues she had with Pyron, the final boss of that game and an alien who is basically a living sun and is hinted to be what ended the dinosaurs (i swear this is Darkstalkers Canon) Her ending there is... weird.

I brought this up because it adds a tiny little bit of context to her SFA3 MAX ending.

Ingrid claims ownership of the psycho power. Notice that its the power itself, not the Psycho Drive Bison's uses. And Bison is aware of that. Roses recognizes both as users of Psycho Power, even though she doesn't recognizes Ingrid. Also note at 00:59 that the focus point of the psycho drive carries Ingrid's Seal, the same one on the cups on her head AND the one she summons on her Fighting Jam ending. Oh, and she is capable of time travel. but no mention if she was the one who brought Yun to SFA3 time, though. What this all mean? Speculation time: According to Steven Mane's theory: With Ingrid being the creator of psycho power, Psycho power works better with women. You can even explain Bison's obsession with 16 year old girls: They are the ones who closely resemble Ingrid, who he knows is the original source of that power. This also explain why Bison's desire of a male body directly conflicts with psycho power: It was never meant for such body. and why there is so much female clones: It simply the result of experiments to see what fits better. But Bison is trying to get around this: He has been experimenting on both, noticing that male bodies deteriorate way faster, confirmed that female ones fit better, but for reasons only known to himself, this was not enough. The genderless Seth, a sentient machine build to gather psycho power, was Bison's latest attempt of circumvent the body type limitation, but it still didn't work (as stated by Bison himself) This is where Steven Mane's theory ends. But from that, we can jump to other conclusions: Ingrid is a goddess and is the source of Psycho Power energy. Notice that she is not the source of soul power though, so behind her innocent face, behind those red eyes, lies something sinister and evil. (Or maybe, Soul Power is simply Psycho Power with another name? Rose might be the one hiding something...) [Small June/2021 update: After a lazy Sunday re-reading the SF30th's bios, its is clear that Soul Power is not just Psycho Power with a different name. So if you want to follow this line of thought through, you have to consider that Ingrid is EVIL, or at least deals heavily with negative energies (closer to Akuma than Bison). and it opens the possibility of a God/Goddess of Soul Power somewhere out there on the SF Universe. but that is speculation for another time.]

Ingrid is time-travelling to specific points in time to collect parts of her power. Bison was one of those who stole it. Pyron probably did it too, and in 201X, Ryu has something to do with it.

Oh, extra fact: SFIII, the last game on the timeline, happens in 1999. SFV, the game that was released on the 10's, canonically happens during 1998. So the Ryu she is supposed to meet next is YET to appear (maybe in SF6?).

And because she is a time travellng goddess, not a dimension hopping one this means a direct connection between the worlds of Darkstalkers, Street Fighter and Red Earth, the three franchises from CAPCOM Fighting Jam: Darkstalkers' Human World could be considered to be Street Fighter's Earth, and Red Earth is literally another planet on the same universe, hinting a bigger CAPCOM shared timeline then we expected. We can also speculate that Bison ultimate goal would not be just global domination but to replace Ingrid as god/goddess of psycho power. And she took Yun to 1989 just for the LuLz. Why I didn't mentioned Ingrid up there in MY theory? because of CFN Portal. The Capcom Fighters Network Portal is essentially the final word on who is canon in Street Fighter. Released together with SFV, its a well documented, weirdly organized and deep source of any street fighter or final fight character you can imagine. Those 2 guys fighting on the intro of SF2 got bios there. As well as Hakan's daughters and Elena's Family. Heck, CFN Portal is the place that finally settled Chun-li's father name as Dorai.

There is also relevant guest characters and characters who appeared in other games but that CAPCOM consider part of the franchise and canon, such as Blade from the Street Fighter: The Movie game (now part of the North American operations of Shadaloo) and... Ruby Heart from MARVEL vs CAPCOM 2 (a version of her actually, before the events of that game). Ingrid is clearly shown as a guest character and NOT part of the street fighter franchise, as she does not have the SF franchise standard background. the only ones who this happen are special guests from, such as the ones from Street Fighter EX and Street Fighter 2010. Ingrid is also described there with her bio from CAPCOM Fighting All-Stars, rather then her own story on SFA3 MAX or even CAPCOM Fighting Jam, in a way making her role on SFA3 MAX similar to Evil Ryu's: A what-if non-canon scenario of the events of the game, that has no bearing on the main plot. Evil Ryu's ending are always Ryu kills everybody and wants more blood, never really explaining anything. Evil Ryu is more important as a visual representation of the dark side of Ryu rather than a character itself'. and because of that precedent, when CAPCOM itself gave her non-canon status, it's better to err on the side of caution and not consider her direct influence and acts when speculating about the plot and lore, unless they are the only source of some kind of hinted information. And there is one very canon character who has a situation like that. Killer Bee. As I mentioned before, the ONLY time Cammy acts as Killer Bee in canon is on her SFA3 arcade/story mode: In her intro against Rose, her very first fight, She initially starts under control of Bison. Rose actually recognizes Bison's Power and frees her, even before the fight starts. The fight itself is actually framed as a violent reaction to being freed. but there is a game where we can see Killer Bee Cammy in all her brainwashed glory: X-men vs Street Fighter. Released before Alpha 3 and the first game where Cammy is shown with her Alpha design. Her quotes there shows a profound reverence to Bison AND some are mechanical in nature. Goddess Ingrid (to differentiate a bit from Code Holder Ingrid) could be one of these instances: Canonically speaking, we know very little about Bison: What are his motivations, why he desires such levels of power or anything that would elevate him from one dimensional antagonist. Sagat started as that and became one of the most developed characters of the franchise. Gill is from the straight go good intentions that will end up bad. Seth is the whole reason of this essay, so I don't need to show you anymore how he turned out a interesting character. and there is G, who is either a suicide cult leader still looking for followers, or the savior of mankind. Not to mention that most players thought as a good guy until Rose's ending. like, holy psycho powered cow... Bison is still just the dictator who wants to rule the entire world. And the only character that deals with Psycho Power in a way that is not just evil power for the evil dictator is a character that, as far as CAPCOM is concerned, is not even acknowledged as the relevant version.

[bigbadredpanda]

Hi there! I wanna ask about the ressurection in mdsz. I am from a dharmic religious background and as I understand, resurrection involves binding the soul to the corpse using resentment which comes from bad (for lack of a better word) karma. This must really mess up the reincarnation cycle and ultimately the path to nirvana right? So, what would this mean for corpses brought back by wwx&wrh, especially for WN, song lan & nmj? Are WN and song lan effectively immortal? Thx in advance 😄.

Hi! Apologies for the long answer delay, these are very interesting questions and I needed to do some research and digging around as Chinese spiritual beliefs are such a complex subject! I’ll only lay out some broad strokes as a more in-depth analysis would be way beyond the scope of my knowledge ^^' Of course, if I get anything wrong, please do correct me!

As you mention Wen Ruohan, may I make the assumption that you were acquainted with MDZS through the live action? His interest in demonic cultivation as well as the Yin metal subplot were unique to Chenqingling and the live action also made a number of changes like replacing the reanimated corpses by “puppets” due to strict censorship laws that ban the portrayal of a great many things including supernatural aspects. My answer is primarily based on the framework of the novel but in this case it should still apply to the live action!

Systems of beliefs and practices in China tend not be mutually exclusive but intertwined, they find their roots in a number of spiritual/philosophical/religious movements, the main of which being Buddhism, Taoism, Confucianism and folk religion.

Chinese folklore has a long history of ghost tales and modern fantasy cultivation novels are one more facet of that tradition, corpses reviving and ghosts coming back to haunt the living are considered to be fairly “natural” occurrences, “natural” in the sense that they are relatively commonplace. Exorcising malevolent beings to protect common folk is the bread and butter of the average cultivator and that’s how the story starts out with the Gusu Lan disciples being tasked by the Mo family to eliminate some walking corpses.

看来这莫家庄近来不大太平。走尸，意如其字，即为走路的死人，一种较为低等也十分常见的尸变者。一般目光呆滞，行走缓慢，杀伤力并不强，但也够平常人担惊受怕的了，光是那股腐臭就够吐一壶。

It seemed that Mo village had not been peaceful of late. Walking corpses which were dead people able to move around as their name implied were rather low-level and frequently seen creatures that came from transformed corpses. In general, their gaze was lifeless and their gait slow. They were not particularly threatening but they were enough to scare away common folk as their sole putrid stench could make one vomit. (ch.3)

Ghosts, walking corpses and even fierce corpses are a common nuisance that can arise from a variety of causes: an unnatural death, lingering resentment, lack of proper rituals for the funeral and so on. For instance, there’s a fierce corpse paying a visit to a person that wronged him in life in the gate-crashing extra (ch.120-123).

Concerning the place of religion in the world of MDZS, we know that the ancestor of the Gusu Lan Sect, Lan An, was originally Buddhist monk who left his temple to lead a secular life and then founded a Sect. His descendants uphold practices that originate from their ancestor such as studying Buddhist scripture. However, cultivators are not shown to be particularly pious, they do not worship deities or hold religious festivals, that’s the domain of the common folk: the worship of the local stone goddess or the attendees of the Guanyin temple (even though it was built by Jin Guangyao). The practices that cultivators observe do not fall under one particular religious denomination, they are part of the ubiquitous rituals related to filial piety such as ancestor worship. It’s also worthwhile to note that the purpose of cultivation comes is essentially taoist: to refine the self and prolong one’s lifetime. In more high fantasy settings (MDZS is described as low fantasy xianxia by the author), this ultimate goal is to attain immortality which would be at odds with Buddhist beliefs to reach nirvana.

The worlds created in wuxia and xianxia genre are rife with references to Buddhist, Taoist, Confucian beliefs and practices but as we can see these different influences cohabit together. The topic of the afterlife in MDZS lore is not really broached, the author mentions in an interview that while Wei Wuxian was dead, the remains of his consciousness was stuck in some sort of unending nightmare. Some other poor souls wander the earth, unable to pass on without the assistance of a cultivator. Elsewhere, in chapter 125, Wei Wuxian recalls suspecting an old man fiercely guarding his lotus lake to be the reincarnation of lotus spirit because of his uncanny tendency to know exactly when a lotus pilferer (Wei Wuxian) is nearby. In chapter 86, a cultivator surmises that Wen Ruohan must be fuming from Jin Guangyao’s betrayal in the Netherworld (referred to as the Nine Springs in Chinese). And then you have the memorial tablets in the ancestral halls that are traditionally said to house the deceased’s soul. As there is no single answer, what lies beyond the veil of death remains a bit of a mystery. It’s possible that there is a mix of all these different beliefs just like in folk religion. Upon death, a soul might linger in the mortal world or go straight to the Netherworld where it will be judged (ancient China being the precursor of bureaucracy, their idea of the afterlife is also very bureaucratic with different Courts to punish evildoers). Should the soul be found guilty, it will remain for a time in the Netherworld to be punished and to atone for its crimes and then move on the cycle of reincarnation.

After this long-winded introduction to spirituality in MDZS-verse, I’m finally coming back to your questions. Demonic cultivation does not grant Wei Wuxian powers over life and death. The corpses he raises and controls are those that are already brimming with resentful energy and already possess the latent potential to arise on their own. Nie Mingjue belongs to the same category although he became a more dangerous fierce corpse. Corpses such as him will remain as they are until they are quelled. In Lan Qiren’s lesson, Lan Wangji enumerates the accepted ways to deal with such a corpse:

蓝忘机并不去看魏无羡，颔首示礼，淡声道：“度化第一，镇压第二，灭绝第三。先以父母妻儿感之念之，了其生前所愿，化去执念；不灵，则镇压；罪大恶极，怨气不散，则斩草除根，不容其存。玄门行事，当谨遵此序，不得有误。”

Without sparing a glance to Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji nodded and bowed, he intoned, “First, liberation. Second, suppression. Third, extermination. Appeal first to the deceased’s attachment to his kin, achieve the desires they could not whilst they were living, release them from the fetters binding them to this world. If that method proves ineffective, proceed with suppression. The more grievous the crimes, the more difficult it is to dissipate resentful energy. In this case, it is thus necessary to exterminate them completely and not leave a shred remaining. This is the protocol of the cultivation world and must be observed scrupulously and undeviatingly.  (ch.14)

Wen Ning and Song Lan are different from these mindless, violent corpses as they were able to regain consciousness through advanced techniques of demonic cultivation. They are effectively immortal but destructible. As the author said, how long they may live depends on proper maintenance!

[simp4kuvira]

The Guilty Consequences

My second-ever fanfiction! I tried to approach this using an angsty/hurt/comfort angle. Hopefully it’s satisfactory. Likes and reblogs are always appreciated 💚

Summary: Kuvira has achieved everything she's ever dreamed of. The Avatar and her fiancé are gone, Republic City has fallen, the Earth Empire is fully united, and there's nothing obstructing her goals anymore. But why does she feel the guilty consequences of her actions gnawing at her psyche?

Rating: Mature for foul language and mentions of death and violence.

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Kuvira

Word count: ~3,950 words

To read on fanfiction.net, click here.

To read on AO3, click here.

“Great Uniter?”

Your gentle voice draws Kuvira’s attention away from the cockpit’s windows of her enormous mecha suit, which is currently situated over the rubble of what used to be President Raiko’s office. After successfully stopping Team Avatar from meddling in Kuvira’s efforts to conquer Republic City, the rest of the United Republic of Nations fell neatly into the hands of the Earth Empire. Korra and her friends were clever enough to believe that kidnapping Kuvira’s so-called fiancé and using him as a bargaining chip would convince her to give up the assault on Republic City. Little did they know, Kuvira was ecstatic to seize the opportunity to rid herself of the engagement and wipe out Team Avatar for the good of the empire. One simple blast of her mecha’s spirit cannon directed towards Future Industry’s factory killed two birds with one stone. Of course, Kuvira still had to worry about Korra’s reincarnation when the new earthbending Avatar came of age, but seeing as how they would be reborn into the Earth Empire, the Great Uniter was not concerned about the future Avatar’s actions for now. She would worry about that problem on another day. For now, the aftermath of Republic City’s defeat was a more pressing matter.

The corner of Kuvira’s lip twitches upward in a faint smile when she turns to meet your gaze. You stride towards her and wrap an arm around her waist before planting a quick kiss on the beauty mark underneath her eye. A noise of contentment emanates somewhere deep in her throat as she leans into your touch. “You know you don’t have to call me Great Uniter, Y/N. Especially not when we’re alone.” 

“Oh trust me, I know,” you retorted. “I just thought it would be fitting to use your official title to commemorate you on a job well done. The Earth Empire is completely unified now thanks to you.” 

Kuvira’s eyes flicker back to surveying the remnants of Republic City. “You flatter me, Y/N. I hardly completed the effort on my own. There were my soldiers, my engineers, and don’t forget the radio technician that triangulated Team Avatar and Baatar’s location in Future Industry’s factory. We’d still be at war with Republic City if it weren’t for their intel. I owe my success to my loyal followers, and especially to you. I don’t regret appointing you to draft annexation treaties for the states that yielded peacefully.” She chuckled softly. “I would’ve never gotten to know you so intimately if I hadn’t done that, much less had the privilege to call you mine.” She presses an innocent kiss to the corner of your mouth.  

You scoffed playfully and pulled back from Kuvira’s waist. “You give yourself too little credit! Not many people would’ve had the mental fortitude to take out your strongest opposition using the spirit cannon. The Earth Empire exists because of you.” You lower your voice and snuggle back to Kuvira’s side. “You know… I’m kinda glad that you did it, even if it sounds awful. It’s unfortunate that Korra and Baatar are gone, but at least we don’t have to worry about the Avatar for another sixteen-something years. We don’t have to hide our relationship from everyone anymore, and you don’t have to pretend to be attracted to some gross guy. We can be authentically together in peace while you build your nation. That’s what matters.” A twinge of guilt spreads through your chest when you dare to defile Korra and Baatar, but you ignore it as best as possible. This is for the best, you repeat to yourself. Funnily enough, that phrase has become a personal mantra for both you and your lover.

You felt Kuvira’s muscles stiffen almost imperceptibly when she heard the words “Avatar” and her ex-fiancé’s name on your lips. Surely she must feel relieved that she doesn’t have to fake being in love with a man as a cheap cover-up for her true sexuality, even if he was taken out of the picture a tad bit brusquely, to say the least. She also doesn’t have Korra breathing down her neck anymore, so what gives? Kuvira’s eyes are glued to the windows offering a panoramic view of the leagues and leagues of wreckage. She remains uncomfortably quiet. 

Unsure of whether or not Kuvira wants you to remain clinging onto her, you start pulling away when she shows no sign of breaking the silence. You’ve been romantically involved with Kuvira for three years now, and you know that when she clams up, there’s no use trying to pry her open until she’s ready. During the first few months of your relationship, she would often have trouble separating her outwardly ambitious and cunning persona from her inwardly vulnerable and tender true self. On days where her reunification efforts fell behind schedule or the Avatar knocked her carefully calculated plans awry, Kuvira’s sour mood leaked into your personal lives. At times, she would inadvertently lapse into Great Uniter-mode while you were trying to relax together after a long day’s work. It wasn’t until you gently coaxed her out of her tension that she began to share what was weighing heavily on her mind. You supported her as best as you could, but when it came to more delicate topics, such as her childhood, her relationship with her adoptive family, or her innermost feelings, Kuvira shut down. She would come clean to you when she was prepared to talk. All would reveal itself in due time. 

You murmured something vague about seeing her later as you padded quietly towards the door. Just as you were about to leave the mecha’s cockpit, a feeble voice called out for you to wait. Stopping in your tracks, you spun on your toes to look at Kuvira. The orange sunset filtered in through the windows and outlined her body in a shimmering glow, which seemed to have a softening effect on her unusually tense body language. Her entire frame was as rigid as a steel beam, legs shoulder-width apart, arms poised behind her back. Her brow was furrowed ever-so-slightly and the corner of her eyes were pinched, as if she was lost in thought or fighting off a headache.

“Y/N,” she ventured. She inhaled sharply before continuing. “I thought reuniting the Earth Empire and conquering the United Republic of Nations would be… different. Ever since Suyin refused to stabilize Ba Sing Se and share Zaofu’s progressiveness, I believed I was the only person competent enough to take initiative. I stepped up to the plate and accomplished my goals. The Earth Empire is stronger than ever. I’m finally in the position to launch industrialization and modernization campaigns in villages neglected by that archaic monarchy everyone despised. I restored order where there was anarchy. I stopped lawless bandits stealing from the poor. I gave resources to the needy when we annexed states, yet…” her eyes flutter closed for a moment as she pauses to collect her thoughts. When she reopens her eyes, her jade colored eyes plead silently at you. Even when you’re standing across the cockpit from each other, you notice that her shoulders are trembling ever-so-slightly. 

You’re astonished at Kuvira’s rare moment of vulnerability. Usually it takes her a few hours, maybe a day or two, for her to open up about a touchy subject. Even then, she’s not one to show emotion so openly on her countenance, not unless she’s severely distressed and totally certain that you and her are alone together. You took a few hesitant steps towards her. 

“You thought winning would be different, huh?” Unsure of how to proceed, you decided to try your hand at a bit of light-hearted banter to see if it might have an effect on your lover. “Well, yeah winning was going to be different! You made your plans based on the assumption that Korra would always be a pain in the ass even after we annexed the United Republic and started our projects, but now you don’t have to worry about her anymore! What about the wedding? You don’t have to marry a guy you don’t love, and we don’t have to worry about hiding our relationship from everyone. Isn’t that a weight off your shoulders?” Despite your confession, you knew the loss of life was a tragedy. You convinced yourself that it was for the greater good, and you knew Kuvira shared your sentiment. This is for the best, you recited. You shimmied towards her and reached out to hold her gloved hands in your own. Icy fingers of anxiety began to spider its way throughout your chest when you looked into her eyes plagued by fear. “Kuvira… is everything alright?” You squeezed her quivering hands for emphasis. 

Kuvira’s eyes flitted to a spot right over your shoulder. “That’s not what I meant, Y/N. I meant I thought winning would be better than this.” 

“Better?” 

“Yes. Better.” It appears Kuvira is becoming irritated at you.

“Kuvira, I won’t understand what you’re trying to say if you keep beating around the bush like that. Why isn’t this better?” 

Kuvira lets out an exasperated groan and yanks her hands away from you. “Don’t pretend to be stupid, Y/N. You know what I’m talking about. There’s more good in the Earth Empire than bad. At least, that’s what I keep trying to convince myself. This is for the best, we would always say. I made more progress than what I took away from people. The price I paid— no, the price other people paid— for my progress was justified. Isn’t it?” Kuvira’s voice falters on the last two words tumbling out of her lips. “What good is ruling the Earth Empire if all I have to show for it is a pile of rubble? Just look at this! How am I supposed to uplift my people if this is what I have to work with?” Her voice steadily rose in volume the more she spoke, until she was practically yelling when she swept her arm to the window showcasing Republic City’s destroyed buildings. 

The adrenaline rushing through your body begins to drown out all hopes of rational thought and speech. You find yourself raising your voice to match your lover’s anger. “Kuvira, I thought this is what you wanted. You wanted to tear out the old and bring in the new. That’s all you ever talked about when we were campaigning. Why are you changing your mind now?” 

“For fuck’s sake, don’t you see? You even said it yourself! It’s a tragedy that the Avatar and my ex-fiancé and all these other people are gone.” Kuvira’s eyes flash dangerously with seething rage. “Why did I make other people pay for my hopes and dreams for the Earth Empire? I dethroned Prince Wu and ridiculed him in front of the whole world, I threatened to let people die if they didn’t join me, I forced Varrick to build a weapon of mass destruction, I destroyed the most spiritual and sacred tree in the Foggy Swamp for the sake of violence, I didn’t hesitate to put dissenters in reeducation camps to be brainwashed and dehumanized.” She takes a ragged breath before bellowing “I murdered people with my spirit cannon. Why didn’t you fucking stop me, Y/N?”

Your voice reaches a shrill pitch as you hurl back your rebuttal. “I didn’t stop you because this is what you wanted,” pointing an accusing finger towards Kuvira to accentuate your points. “You’re charismatic enough to make other people agree with you. You convinced yourself you were doing this for everyone else’s good, and you convinced me, too. Don’t you remember? This is for the best. No one stopped you because you locked yourself in an echo chamber filled with people that agreed with your plans. And when someone did have the courage to speak up, you sent them to reeducation camps, threatened their lives, or outright killed them.” 

“So you think this is my fault?” Kuvira takes an intimidating step towards you and looks down upon you threateningly. Her voice drops to a dangerously low growl. “Me? This is all me?” 

“Now it’s your turn to stop being dense, Kuvira. You just admitted that you thought winning would be different and you just gave a guilt-ridden speech about making other people pay for your mistakes. Open your damn eyes!” 

Kuvira abruptly pivots her body away from you and takes several steps back. “You are dismissed, soldier,” she whispered in a cold voice as unyielding as steel. She resumed looking out the window with her arms behind her back. 

“Seriously, Kuvira?” you moan. “You can’t just push me away like that when you’re so close to realizing the truth. Why don’t you listen to me? Why don’t you listen to yourself?” You cautiously take a step closer before she whips around and metalbends a fragment of her shoulder plate in your general direction which misses your face by a mere hairsbreadth. Your body freezes as your mind races to comprehend that Kuvira would dare threaten your safety. 

“Leave me, Y/N.” Kuvira refuses to look at you.

You stand motionless for a moment that stretches on for an eternity as your eyes overflow with bitter tears. The cockpit’s door slams loud enough to reverberate throughout the mecha suit as you plod your way down to the nearest exit and catch a ferry to Kuvira’s base of operations on Air Temple Island, knowing she would meet you there when she was ready to be calm and civilized. The whole time you spent traveling from the giant mecha to Republic City’s docks, throngs of weary-eyed refugees peeking behind piles of rubble plagued your sights. Thankfully, the two bodyguards escorting you to the personal quarters you shared with Kuvira kept the masses at bay, but the stark reality of so many war-torn people suffering from the conflict infected your guilty conscience. You roughly dismissed your bodyguards once you set foot on the Island and wasted no time briskly marching to your shared bedroom. You hoped the evening’s darkness masked the silent tears flowing down your cheeks. 

 Your nightmares consisted of petrified throngs of innocent people fleeing Kuvira’s army. Exhausted bodies toiling away in reeducation camps. The terror etched upon soldiers’ faces as Kuvira intimidated them with violence. And finally, a vision of what you imagined Baatar’s, Korra’s, and the rest of Team Avatar’s last moments on earth must’ve been like before an overpowering purple light burned their bodies out of existence. 

You jolted upright in bed drenched in a cold sweat and gasping for air. “Fuck,” you stammered under your breath over and over. “Fucking fuckity fuck. Kuvira really did convince me that everything was for the best, didn’t she?” You didn’t want to believe it at first, but the nagging voice lingering somewhere in your head relentlessly reminded you that this destruction wasn’t worth thousands upon thousands of ruined lives. 

Your only job in the Earth Empire’s army was to help expedite the political and legal process of unifying a country. If your position was relatively peaceful and bloodless, you couldn’t begin to imagine Kuvira’s guilt about orchestrating this three year long operation. How am I supposed to convince Kuvira to see the light? you pondered. She was so close to realizing it before she snapped at me. Maybe I can talk to her again and—

An abrupt knocking shook you out of your thoughts. I thought I told those guards to leave me alone. You shuffled to the door and slid it open, half expecting for it to be another diplomat’s messenger begging for you to revise this oh-so-important legal paperwork that couldn’t possibly wait until morning, until you looked up and saw Kuvira slouched against the doorframe. Her chocolate-colored hair cascaded about her shoulders, and her uniform was rumpled from head to toe. You could count on one hand the number of times Kuvira allowed herself to look this haggard, and frankly, the fact that she looked this way hours after your fight in the cockpit led you to believe that maybe she had taken your advice seriously. 

“Kuvira?” you gasped.

“Y/N,” she mumbled feebly. “I’m sorry. I know you probably don’t want to see me after how I reacted, but I don’t know where else to go.” Her voice quavered. “I don’t have anyone else who I can trust with these feelings that are eating me up inside, and I thought maybe you could…” her sentence trailed off unfinished. “Before you left, you mentioned that you knew all of this,” she gestured vaguely at the surrounding area, “was wrong, but I convinced you that it was okay, and I convinced myself that it was okay too, but now I realize that it’s wrong and for fuck’s sake I don’t know what to do about it now.” The last of her strength escaped her body and she crumpled to the floor in a heap of unrestrained sobbing.

Swooping down to the floor alongside her, you promptly wrapped your arms around her shoulders and nestled her into your embrace. Whatever animosity you felt because of how she shooed you out of the cockpit had dissipated. Your fingers threaded themselves into the locks of her hair as you whispered soothing words. 

 “I’m so sorry I pulled the entire world down with me. I’m so sorry I ruined nearly everyone’s life.” The full force of her words bubbled out of her mouth uninhibited by her previous attempts of restraint. She couldn’t stop talking now if she tried. “I saw how hopeless my nation was after it descended into lawlessness. I was willing to pay the ultimate price to nurture it into something stronger than ever before, but I didn’t realize I had no authority to take away other people’s autonomy. I had no right to take lives, no right to let people suffer when I didn’t get what I wanted, no right to let people starve on the streets if a state didn’t join the Empire, no right to usurp power, no right to throw the entire world out of balance by murdering the Avatar just to achieve my vision.” She buries her face into your nightshirt before choking out her final sentences. “I’m so sorry I pulled you down with me, Y/N. I especially didn’t want to threaten you the way I did earlier. You’re the last person I ever want to hurt.” 

You feel that Kuvira’s sorrow is rather misplaced. She shouldn’t be entirely apologizing to you, but rather to the whole world and everyone whom’s lives she changed for the worse. But now is not the time to object to her apology. For now, you let her weep into your chest for several minutes until her tears subside and her body stops trembling.

After her emotions have stabilized somewhat, you help your lover stand on her feet and guide her to the edge of the mattress. You gently work out the knots in her hair using your fingers and begin to strip the layers of her uniform off her body. She tries protesting by claiming that she’s perfectly capable of doing it herself, but you discourage her by pressing a finger to her lips and muttering “you’ve had a rough day in more ways than one. Let me help you get ready for bed.” Once you’ve helped her don her nightclothes, you stretched yourself out on the bedsheets and gently pulled her into your protective embrace once more. 

Several minutes of silence pass like this, Kuvira curled up flush against your body, before you felt it was safe to express your thoughts about her confession. “Kuvira, I appreciate you apologizing to me, but I’m not the only person you should be apologizing to. Telling me you’re sorry isn’t going to absolve all of your guilt.” 

“I know,” she said. “I know I have a long journey ahead of me, but you were the first person I felt I needed to apologize to before I kept going.” 

“I say this with love, but I think you owe an apology to the entire world. You can’t keep living in guilt like this.” 

Kuvira pauses briefly before saying “I don’t think I could live with myself if I keep being the Great Uniter. The position I created for myself carries too much blood and suffering.” 

“Does that mean you’re going to stop being the Great Uniter?” 

“I think I’m going to convene with all the major world leaders. Raiko is still around somewhere, and so is Prince Wu, Tenzin, the Beifongs, Fire Lord Izumi. I still want the country to be modernized like the rest of the world, but I think it’s best if they take the reins. I don’t think they’d appreciate me doing the work after how I’ve hurt everyone. I’ll arrange a speech announcing my decision to permanently step down. And then,” she takes a shaky breath, “I’ll happily walk into a courtroom and accept whatever punishment the law deems fit.”

“I’ll admit, I didn’t expect you to take such a drastic decision so quickly, but I’m glad you did. I’m not blameless either, Kuvira. I’m sorry for enabling you. I hope I can make up for it by being with you every step of the way.”

An unamused grin creeps upon Kuvira’s face. “Even if it means we’ll go to prison together?”

“Especially if it means we go to prison together,” you chided. “How else would I keep you company? I wouldn’t leave you all by yourself. Maybe we can be cellmates.” Her face is still marred red-rimmed eyes and a slight scowl. If you dared to tickle her, she might crack a genuine smile for the first time since Republic City fell. 

You dig your fingers into Kuvira’s side, eliciting a sharp yelp from her before she’s overcome by a fit of giggles. The sound of Kuvira’s mirth is a treat she rarely shares with anyone, especially since she shouldered this massive enterprise. Who knows when you’d ever get to hear or see her happy like this?

A fraction of the tension in her body has melted away after her laughter subsides. “Thank you sincerely. Your support is priceless, and so is your humor.” She snuggles closer into your body before murmuring “I love you, Y/N” into your shoulder. 

“I love you too,” you whispered before you both drifted off to sleep. The peace between you and Kuvira would be radically different, if not uncertain, by the time she calls upon the world leaders and steps down. For at least this one silent night, you can cherish your last few moments of freedom together with her.