#would be indirect consequence of his actions

[vorbarrsultana]

i’m so intrigued by the idea of nickistat during the french revolution and the way they may tackle it in the show

[sorcerersseestars]

synopsis: Gojo blames you for the first-years' disaster that the higher-ups caused.

pairing: Gojo Satoru x gn! reader

genre: hurt/comfort, angst to fluff

warnings: mention of death/a corpse, yelling, heavy feelings of self-blame, stuttering (it makes sense here tho I promise), emotionally constipated Gojo, mention of not eating for an extended period of time/being hungry (due to the situation), manga spoilers!! (star plasma vessel arc), indirect confessions

word count: 5.2k

notes: There are some slightly non-canon details. I’m pretty sure that Nanami and Yuji don’t know each other at this point, but let’s pretend they do. Also, I’m insinuating a more seasoned bond between Gojo and Yuji/reader and Yuji - let’s also pretend that they’ve been teaching Yuji for longer at this point, for more angst potential. :) LAST THING - you used to be a very mediocre child/adolescent actor in a few small/bad films. Only relevant for one detail.

Also, Gojo may be a bit ooc here - possibly overdramatic in his wordings - but I really wanted to write a Gojo that loses control of his emotions, since I think it'd be difficult to elicit such a reaction from him. I hope it suits him okay!!

GOJO HAS ALWAYS had a soft spot for you. In high school, he would regularly volunteer himself to take your blame, even though you never asked him to do it and would practically begged him not to. But, he was frustratingly persistent and would do it despite your many protests. If you ever cheated on an assignment, Gojo would claim he copied yours. If you fumbled during a mission, Gojo would lie in the report. If you both snuck out and got caught, Gojo would say he dragged you out with force. Whenever you would have an argument with someone, Gojo would comfort you afterwards, insisting the other person was in the wrong even when they obviously weren’t.

Although he has eventually ramped down this ridiculous treatment over the years, you will never forget this boyish idiosyncrasy from your younger days.

Today, however, it’s like those days never even existed. You don't recognize the person standing in front of you. You can’t blame him for his reaction – it's wholly natural – but it still jars you.

Today, you fucked up. You fucked up so badly that there's a very permanent, unchangeable consequence to your actions – or rather, your lack thereof. The consequence of your stupidity, the result of your thoughtlessness, lies unmoving in this room. The body of Itadori Yuji, separated from reality only by the thin plastic covering of a body bag, rests on a table only feet from where you stand.

His mentor, one sworn to protecting his students, sworn to delaying his impending execution as much as possible, stands before you. His signature blindfold obscures his eyes, and you can only imagine the wild, swirling gaze you would be faced with in its absence.

Yuji’s mentor – your long time close friend, who has never blamed you in any great capacity for anything through the entirety of your friendship – now looks at you scathingly.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” He spits, tone icy.

He's not looking at you as he rigidly hovers over the operating table, but you can feel the intensity of his emotions despite the distance. Words fall out of your brain, and you struggle to string together a cohesive thought.

“I-" You try to swallow the lump in your throat. “The higher-ups told me not to go with them, I don’t know wh–"

He barks out a harsh laugh, cutting off your pathetic excuse. His head is in his hands, fingers roughly carding through his disheveled hair. He pauses in his ministrations to face you: he is suddenly towering over you, broad frame filling even the corners of your vision.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” He growls. “Did you stop to think for even a second? Why would they ever ask a teacher to stay behind?”

Tears begin to slide down you cheeks. You quickly wipe them away and will your building urge to break down to go away.

He sighs, his breath leaving him loudly and aggressively. “I don’t understand how this happened. You know how this works, (Y/N)! You know how the higher-ups are!”

“I’m sorry,” You choke out quietly, voice stretched and thin. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t bring him back, (Y/N)!” Gojo shouts.

Shoko and Ijichi are silent. Shoko is looking at the ground, her stony expression difficult to determine. Shoko, your friend who always sticks up for you no matter what, especially when dealing with Gojo. Shoko, who hasn’t spoken a single word to you since you arrived. For once, she agrees with him.

Your eyes land on the black body bag laying on the operating table, and you can’t hold it back any longer. Your legs weaken underneath you and you begin to shake. The sobs you’ve been suppressing rip out of your throat. Ugly, choking sobs.

Nobody moves to comfort you. If anything, Gojo’s scowl deepens, and Shoko turns away at your display of emotion.

“I know,” You sob. “I know it doesn’t. I know it's my fault.”

You take a few shaky breaths. “I didn’t know- I didn’t mean for it to happen- I- it’s my fault.”

He slides his blindfold down, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. You are about to blurt something else out, but before the words can leave your tongue, you catch his gaze and you’re immediately frozen. His boiling blue irises steal your breath and leave you rooted to the spot. Never in your life have you seen him this angry or even display this much emotion.

“If you keep standing there and crying, I think I’m going to kill something,” He says lowly.

“Gojo,” Shoko interjects in a warning tone.

Gojo bites back, “Why not? We all want the higher-ups gone. It’d be so easy. Shit like this wouldn’t happen anymore.”

Ijichi pales. Shoko roughly says, “Are you crazy?”

He doesn’t answer, and the determined look on his face isn’t necessarily comforting. It seems a storm is brewing – the most powerful sorcerer is being driven to a point.

You’re reaching a point, too – your breaking point. You feel like you can’t breathe. When you inhale, your lungs refuse to inflate past the shallowest of breaths. It’s all hitting you now, clear thoughts rising past the fog of adrenaline that overwhelmed your mind. The reality is that you fucked up, and it’s not fixable.

You fucked up, and there’s no going back in time to change your decision, to go against orders to stay with your students. There’s no way to bring Yuji back.

“Why are you still here?” Gojo says with an exasperated huff, addressing you directly. “Seeing you only adds to my anger.”

You say nothing, your mind occupied only with your regrets. He frowns and tries again.

"Unless you want to dive further into this preventable death," He says coldly. "Leave. There's still a job to be done.”

You barely hear his words. Your brain doesn’t have the energy to collect them, to interpret them, as it hyper-fixates on the horrible hole forming in your heart. Your eyes are wide, pupils enlarged, and you are visibly quivering.

“Didn’t you hear me? You need to leave!” Gojo growls, frustrated at your lack of reaction, believing it to be indifference.

“They must be in shock, Gojo,” Shoko murmurs. “They’re shutting down.”

Shoko’s diagnosis is indeed correct. You don’t hear a single word that comes out of their mouths; your shoulders and heart have grown heavy, leaden, from knowing the fate you led your students to. One deceased, two severely injured. All because of a risk you did not take, an order you did not disobey.

Yuji’s bright smile burns into the back of your eyes, a reminder of what you’ve lost, of the ultimate mistake.

One second, your eyes are on the black body bag, and the next second you can’t see anything, your vision blurred by tears and by speed. You’re running, you realize, legs pumping as fast as they can. Your lungs ache and your legs cramp up, but you can’t will yourself to stop. You can’t think. You can’t catch your breath.

When you inevitably collapse, you don’t know where you are or how much time has passed. It’s just a patch of grass damp with dew, a few maple trees dotting the banks of a small neighboring stream. You’re laying under one of these trees, your arms outstretched so your fingers can comb through the cool, wet blades of grass. You’re vaguely aware the the sun set at some point after you left. Maybe it’s been a hour, or a few more. You have no idea.

You want to scream, you want to cry, but you don’t. You can’t; it won’t come. When his grinning face and determined smile taunt you, reminding you of your sins, you can only screw your eyes shut, willing the torture to end.

Wetness finally runs down your face, and you taste salt. It is oddly comforting. Your hands repeatedly grab the gentle grass, numbing your mind until exhaustion eventually overtakes you.

There’s a buzzing filling your brain. You groan and roll over, reaching out to your bedside table to grab the offending object. You startle at the feeling of sharp gravel under your fingertips – it’s unpleasantly damp, as well, leaving muddy residue on your hands.

The buzzing starts again, and this time you clearly feel the vibrations through your leg. You sit up, scooting back until your back firmly hits the tree trunk behind you, and force your tired eyelids to part. You have to squint, as the sun has already risen and has crossed the sky a fair amount – it must be approaching noon already.

When the buzzing persists, you grumpily rip the phone out of your pocket. It’s not an alarm, as you had expected. In fact, you startle at the caller ID: Gojo Satoru.

You stare at your phone blankly, your brain buffering. You ultimately let it ring out, although your finger hovers over the answer button. Once the screen fades to your usual background, your throat goes dry. Missed calls from Shoko, Nanami, and Gojo fill your screen. You quickly skim the accompanying texts and wince.

Shoko <3: I know we’re all upset, but we shouldn’t have taken it out on you…just let me know you’re alright, okay? (10:43 pm)

‘Nanamin’: I heard what happened. It isn’t your fault, (Y/N), no matter what anyone says. Call me if you need anything. (6:26 am)

Satoru: Where are you? (11:34 pm)

Satoru: Pick up (11:59 pm)

Satoru: please (12:03 am)

Satoru: I fucked up. I need to talk to you, please let me (12:05 am)

Satoru: I understand if you don’t want to talk to me, but let someone, anyone, know you’re alright… (7:12 am)

Satoru: Megumi just told me he tried to visit you but you still weren’t home. (Y/N), please…say anything…I need to know that you’re okay (11:17 am)

It all rushes back to you: your lethal mistake, the deserved reaction you received from your two best friends, how you shamefully ran away. Fuck. There’s no way you can face any of them, especially not Megumi.

You wish this never happened. Hot tears burn your cheeks again; your eyes flood with regret. Shame quickly floods through you, making you feel hot all over. How can you feel sorry for yourself when it was your fault in the first place?

You roughly wipe your face with your sleeve and stick your phone back into your pocket. There’s no way you can respond right now. It’s bound to die soon, anyway, so there’s no point in trying.

You don’t want to move from where you sit. You want to sink into the ground and stay there until the horrible feeling inside you goes away. But…

“What if it doesn’t?” You whisper those words out into the universe, a sinking feeling in your gut telling you the answer.

You want to cry more, allow yourself to shed more tears, but you don’t. You wobbly stand up, and are surprised at how weak you are. When was the last time you ate – yesterday morning, before the disastrous mission?

You have to go home. You can’t stay here, in the middle of nowhere, neglecting yourself. It’s a thought that rings in your head and won’t leave you alone until you decide to listen. Okay. You will go home. You can manage that.

It takes a while, but you find your way back to your apartment. Last night, you had apparently meandered into an expanse of empty land neighboring the school, as you pass by Jujutsu Tech on your way back. It is a bit off the beaten path – you doubt anyone has ever intentionally gone where you ended up last night.

During your journey home, you have to reference your Google Maps app a few times, but you somehow successfully get back home, despite your directional challenges and weakened state.

Until you step into your apartment, you don’t realize how cold you are. Your feet are numb from being cold and wet, your toes icy when you peel the damp socks off. You cringe at how unaware you have been at your body for the past 24 hours: your mental state ignored all physical needs.

Your stumble to your bedroom, aching body screaming for a rest. You relent easily, collapsing on your bed face first. You’re so grimy and covered in remnants of the dirt bed you laid in last night, evidence of your outside stay covering your clothing. Bits of twigs and leaves invite themselves into your sheets – you couldn’t care less right now, though. You don’t even think about it.

On instinct, you plug your dead phone in without even looking. There’s silence for a minute or two before it whirs back to life, the screen flashing at your tired eyes.

There’s another message waiting to be opened.

Megumi: Come back soon, sensei. He’s getting unsufferable

Megumi:…more than usual

A hoarse chuckle leaves your throat, the first laugh that’s left you since the whole incident. You sigh immediately after though, as you begin to wonder how Megumi has been dealing with everything. If you hadn’t run away, then…

Your head is in your hands again. No matter what path your thinking strays down, you keep returning to your immense guilt over what happened.

You wish you were mad at someone. You wish that you felt angry at Gojo, but you aren’t – you can’t be. In your eyes, he wasn’t wrong; how could you be mad at him when you agree?

You’re not mad, but there’s this other unpleasant feeling. It feels like one of Nobara’s nails has been lodged in your chest, and every time you think about his reaction, the nail twists a little deeper into your heart. He’s never yelled at you before. That hurt.

It’s understandable, but it still hurts.

Gojo…You don’t think you can face him yet, but he may come to you if your radio silence continues. Maybe you should just get it over with and call him. You can just tell him you’re alive and hang up. That should suffice.

Without thinking further on it, you grab your phone and dial his number. Within two rings, the line connects.

“Yo, (Y/N)! Long time no hear!” His chirpy voice booms through your speakers. He’s back to his usual self – overly casual and full of mirth. He sounds way too cheerful; it throws you off guard.

A sharp inhale leaves you as you’re about to tell him that you’re fine and to not worry, so that you can hang up and avoid him. But, nothing comes out. Everything you thought of saying flies out of your brain. You’re left wordless, mouth hanging open.

“You there? (Y/N)?”

You shake your head, coming to your senses.

“Yes,” The single word that leaves you is weak and breathy.

“You good? Are you home now?”

“Yeah. Home now. I’m alive, so no need to bother checking in on me,” You say thoughtlessly.

God, that was lame. You can’t help but cringe at what you just said. It’s what you intended to convey, yes, but that’s not how you wanted to say it.

“Just alive? Sounds real peppy over there!” He chuckles. “I was going to come over anyway, but you’ve really pushed it over the edge.”

“Ah,” You say somewhat panicked, searching for a way out of this. “There’s really no need. I just need rest so there’s no need. I’ll see you later, then.”

“You mean soon!” He chirps before you can hang up. You groan into your pillow; this is exactly what you had been trying to avoid. How are you even going to look at him?

You’ve just put your phone back on your nightstand when there’s sudden footsteps approaching your bedroom. Before you can think further, the door is flung upon and a familiar figure appears before you.

“Ultimate best friend Gojo Satoru has arrived! Everyone applaud!”

A series of small claps ensues, while you just stare on in silence and disgruntlement. A wide smile stretches across his face at your displeased expression.

“C’mon angel, not even a single clap? That’s cold.”

You roll your eyes, but only half-heartedly. The gesture is so pathetically slight that Gojo’s smile falls a fraction. You don’t have much emotional energy to expend on humoring him, it seems. Because of him.

It’s then that he fully takes in your appearance. Tear stained cheeks, dirt caking your clothes and body, scraps of organic material matted in your hair and clinging to all parts of you. There’s even smudges of dirt around your eyes where you’ve attempted to wipe away tears.

He questions your appearance, trying to appear lighthearted, “Was the forest calling you? You really didn’t sleep here?”

You immediately feel self-conscious of your appearance and cross your arms. You manage out a quiet, “Something like that.”

“No, seriously…where did you sleep?” He probes, this time lacking the lightheaded tone.

A weak, sheepish smile appears on your lips, “Ah…the ground? You were right, I guess.”

He blinks. You rub the back of your head and avoid eye contact, softly laughing an awkward little chuckle.

“Seriously?” He asks, but it lacks any judgment. He is truly just in disbelief.

You just nod.

“Hey, are you…are you sure you’re okay?”

You weren’t expecting that. You wish he would stay in his childish mindset – these real questions are worse.

You breathe out slowly, “I mean…yeah. I’m fine.”

It’s not a very convincing delivery, but it was the best you could manage. The corners of his lips turn down slightly, almost unnoticeably, but he doesn’t comment on your answer. He knows he should question you further, dig a little deeper, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he excuses himself, “I’ll be right back. Just stay put! I’ll know if you move, so you better not move an inch.”

He raises two fingers to his eyes, then directs them to you, clearly saying ‘I have my eyes on you!’

It’s amusing - he’s always amusing - but when you try to smile, your lips just flatline. You can’t tell if he notices, since he has already turned away and walked into the bathroom, but you hope he couldn’t tell.

When he returns, he’s holding a dampened washcloth.

“Bath time!” He says, shaking the cloth excitedly in front of you. You flinch a little as a few stray drops of water unexpectedly land on you, which he lightly laughs at.

And then he begins swiping away the dirt that has accumulated on your body. He starts with your face. He’s on his knees, one elbow resting on the space neighboring your right thigh, leaning in to have more control with the cloth. You close your eyes when his face comes within inches of yours - too close. Even when you feel as horrible as you do now, your heart won’t stop thumping quickly against your ribs, as if it cannot deny those deeply hidden feelings you harbor.

He hums while he works, gently dabbing all the places where you have visible dirt. It’s comforting, or at least it should be. You heart begins to clench tightly, and you so badly want a hole to appear in the ground to swallow you up.

“Gojo, why are you being so nice now?” You ask, voice small. “I don’t really deserve it. I’d…prefer the alternative. This feels wrong right now.”

He sets down the cloth, wincing at your pitiful words. Is that how you really feel?

He pauses. He’s not good at this sort of thing – acknowledging other people’s vulnerability, lowering his own walls to empathize with others, any of it. He hates it. He hates how emotionally he acted yesterday, he hates how it has affected you.

“No,” He sighs. He speaks slowly as he carefully chooses his words, “I…shouldn’t have acted like that yesterday. It wasn’t fair to you.”

Your bottom lip trembles, but you force yourself not to cry, “It’s okay. I don’t blame you for it. Everyone was thinking it.”

He tries to catch your eye, but your gaze is downcast. He ducks, lowering himself to the ground even more, to enter your field of vision.

“Hey,” He says softly. “Do you trust me?”

Your brow furrows; you don’t understand why he’s asking you that. You feel yourself nodding, though.

“Everything I said yesterday,” He starts, but then shakes his head at himself. “No, everything I yelled at you yesterday – it was misdirected. What happened wasn’t your fault. There was no way of knowing what was about to happen.”

“But now, it’s obvious,” You mumble. “I should have known.”

“Hindsight is twenty-twenty. You were following orders. The ones assigning the orders are at fault, not you.”

You grab your sheets with tight fists. You turn your head to the side, away from his invisible gaze, “Orders that were obviously suspect. It’s still my fault as an experienced sorcerer.”

Gojo’s chest constricts. You sound exactly like he did yesterday; the consequences of his actions echo back to him from your mouth.

“I promise it’s not,” He insists, but it falls on deaf ears. “I’ve made mistakes too. I’ve made mistakes, but you never treated me like I treated you yesterday.”

Gojo clenches his teeth. This is hard. He hates bringing up this side of the past, but he’ll do it for you.

“You never judged me for what happened during the Star Plasma Vessel mission. Even though you wanted to leave that night, and I ignored you, you never blamed me.”

“You were seventeen,” You say quietly, shakily. “We were all kids. That was over a decade ago.”

“But you knew how to make it better,” He says breathlessly. “And you never even once insinuated that it was my fault.”

You smile sadly at him, and your next words are sure and immediate, “Because it wasn’t.”

Gojo’s mouth hangs open for a second, still amazed at the understanding and kindness that so easily shine through you even in the darkest moments.

He reaches out for your hands, unsure, and squeezes them when he finds them. “Can I…can I start over ? From yesterday?”

You blink blankly, not completely understanding, but give a hesitant nod anyway.

He exhales deeply and lowers his head to your hands until his forehead brushes your fingertips. It’s completely unexpected, and you freeze upon contact. His head is bowed to you – embarrassment and confusion flood you.

You are relieved when he raises his head to speak.

“What happened with our students isn’t your fault,” He says quietly but with conviction. “It’s the work of the higher ups - it’s their fault, nobody else’s. I’m…”

He pauses. Words he never says need to come out.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry that this happened while you were here and I was away, I’m sorry that I blamed you for things out of your control. This was never your fault.”

You are silent. You say nothing. You don’t move. Your expression stays blank.

He panics. He takes your silence as a sign of not being forgiven – which is not what he fears, in fact he doesn’t want to be forgiven. But he doesn’t want to lose you, and that’s exactly what he thinks has happened. Did he completely sever the bond spanning more than a decade?

“I understand if you can’t forgive me, but,” He swallows thickly, the anxious feeling rising. “But I hope this doesn’t…”

He tries again, “I hope our friendship…I hope you- I don’t want to lose you after all we-”

“Satoru – it’s not that,” You say quickly. “You haven’t, I promise. I have already forgiven you. I forgave you from the moment it started.”

You close your eyes, clenching them shut. You don’t want to cry again. “It’s just that…even if I’m not directly at fault, Yuji is still dead. Our student is dead. Despite anything that can be said of the situation, that fact will not change.”

He really shouldn’t tell you this. He needs to, but he shouldn’t.

“Do you trust me?” He says again, voice only a whisper. He’s even closer now, only inches away. A hand raises to ease his blindfold down so that it rests loosely around his neck.

Your eyes on his are so clear, and reveal so much – surprised by his bare gaze, confusion clear in your beautiful eyes he finally can see so clearly up close.

“Of course,” You whisper breathlessly. “Always have.”

“Close your eyes, and hold on,” He says. “Don’t want you getting lost again, angel.”

You know what that means. Teleportation. But where could he be taking you that is so important right now? Maybe somewhere he knows you like to calm you down?

You’re taken aback by the rush of air around you even though you’ve traveled like this many times.

The few uncomfortable moments in the strange vortex allow you to question where be could be possibly be taking you. Before you can decide on an answer, however, the roar in your ears subsides, and you are steadied by his grip around your shoulders. He's so close again, wisps of his soft hair tickling your neck. One of his large hands drops down to clutch yours. You’re ashamed about now nice it all feels in such a situation.

Then all that slips away and you're immediately on guard - there's another cursed presence nearby.

“Gojo-sensei, you’re back? That movie was kind of weird and bad, but I swear that one character was (L/N)-sensei. Do they have a twin or something?”

Your eyes pop open. Your hand falls out of Gojo’s as your grip completely goes slack. That voice…Youthful, full of energy and a kind innocence. It could only be...

Gojo responds ecstatically, dramatically, “Ah, but of course not! I have brought an honored guest! An old time Hollywood star whose home was the red carpet! The famed, the budding talent, (Y/N)-”

He’s cut off by a shriek. He blinks twice, and you’re already far from his side, rushing to the secret he has to keep - the secret he couldn’t possibly keep from you.

You crash into Yuji, binding him in a crushing hug. He's open mouthed and spluttering in surprise, but you don't have it in you to be embarrassed right now. You have no idea how, but he is standing before you, living and breathing. As seemingly endless tears pour down your face, you miss now the confusion on his face morphs into a look of grim understanding. He doesn't know what you went through, but he can guess.

And then you're laughing. Crying and laughing. Heaving breaths to accommodate your almost hysterical laughter, standing back to wipe away your tears before hugging Yuji again.

The sight of you hugging your student so tightly, healing with just this action, coaxes a half smile out of Gojo. Only half because he is in danger of faltering himself, bottom lip wavering as a wave of emotion flows over him.

The abandoned blindfold is clenched tightly in his hand as he tries to hold back the emotions welling in his brilliant eyes. He almost wants to put it back on to hide the emotions underneath, but he can’t, not when the whole reason he took it off was to see this with his own eyes.

No words are exchanged for a long while. They don't need to be, and even Gojo can see that.

By the time he is taking you home, your dynamic has shifted back to something more normal. It's raining, but you insist on walking back, citing the fact that his teleportation makes you horribly dizzy. (Or maybe, just maybe, you want a little more time with him. But you'd never admit that to yourself.)

The constant overhead drizzle is a bit annoying, but is bearable despite Gojo's claims of it tainting his very existence. He’s clearly back to his overdramatics - it's comforting.

The streets are dark, with only muted warm yellow lights lining the sidewalks, creating only vague halos of light due to the misty air. Gojo walks close to your side, an arm wrapping protectively around your shoulders. At some point through your chatting, it slips down to your waist. You don't notice it right away, but once you do, all you can do is wonder if he's done that before - if it's normal for friends.

You notice something else strange. His blindfold is still loosely hanging from his body, his baby blues on display. It's hard to look at him like this - you feel too exposed - even though you desperately want to get lost in his eyes. Yes, your deep affection for him still rings true, even if he yelled at you, even if he did expose your horrible, cringey child acting.

“I can’t believe you put on that movie!” You exclaim, miming exasperation.

Gojo chuckles, “Scolding me again, that’s a good sign. Even if it’s for an illogical reason – c’mon, ‘Painters in Paris’ is a classic!”

You can’t hold back your wide, devious smile, “I guess you would think that since you literally look like a fucking paint brush!”

His jaw drops, and he looks at you faux-offended as you practically double over in laughter.

“Angel! No, I really should be calling you devil! You- get over here!”

Although you run from him, he quickly catches up to you and you’re in his grasp. He immediately overwhelms you with vicious tickles.

“Gojo!! Satoru, you– stop that!” You say between bouts of laughter. You’re off balance, and his relentless attack isn’t helping. “Hey, stop, I’m gonna–!”

You stumble and begin to topple to the cold cement, but you’re scooped up before you meet your demise.

A small gasp escapes you at your proximity, and at his eyes so clearly looking deeply into yours, yearning burning through them. He's never looked at you like this - has he?

“Woah! That was close, huh, angel?” He smiles, tone nonchalant and voice steady. He seems unaffected by your closeness, but his eyes tell a different story. You don't know what to trust - him or his eyes. But they say that the eyes are the windows into the soul – what answer does that leave you with?

And what answer do you have? Right now, with his strong arms around you, those beautiful eyes glittering as if they hold a sea of stars, that sweet smile that never fails to give you butterflies, those lips you can’t help but glance at for too long–

You know.

Without thinking, you give in to your instinct to keep leaning in, and your lips meet his. It's not a passionate crash, but more of a gentle whisper to the soul. A soft brush to his lips, all the sweetness he brings to you returned.

Then, you pull away slowly, almost in confusion. Did you just do that?

You’re horrified. What did you just do without a single thought behind your action?

A gentle chuckle brings you out of your momentary horror.

“So what, you’re a paint brush kisser now?” He chuckles softly, his thumb gently brushing against your lower lip.

You take in his expression - flushed cheeks, a soft smile, eyes full of a softness you've never imagined they could have.

"Yes,” You agree, your mouth stretching widely from the excitement and happiness you can’t hold back, “ l proudly am.”

He pulls you closer and kisses you deeply, again and again and again until you're both out of breath. You both stay in that moment, feelings that lay hidden for years finally spilling out, until you're completely engulfed by the rain.

note part 2: I have a tendency to be over-detailed about boring/fluff details, so I tried to do that less here. First one shot in a while !! I hope the flow is still okay…I also couldn't decide how to do the ending, so l hope this works?

Also wow I can’t stop writing hurt/comfort and Gojo being an ass! I have another story drafted that’s also Gojo x reader and hurt/comfort as well…

Here’s a hint about that one: 🌸���

If you’re looking for more hurt/comfort, here’s my gojo hurt/comfort series: here (more action-y than this though)

Thanks for reading !! :)

[aeithalian]

What even are the ancient laws?

I've been meaning to get around to this one for ages.

Anyways! Good question, guys! Answer: nobody fucking knows. Sure, we have good ideas. The laws are mentioned every now and then as a "oh, no little mortal child I can't help you - that's against the ancient laws. But hey! You can help me."

Let's be honest: the ancient laws, while there might be legitimate reasons for some of them, have transformed into yet another way that the gods hold themselves as the high and mighty overlords of the world, and keep their mortal offspring below them at all costs. But... why? Are the demigods really that dangerous to the gods? The answer: yes, but not to the gods - to Zeus.

Let's start from the beginning and list out everything we know about the laws. I did the hard work, you're welcome:

1. Gods cannot steal each others' symbols of power.

2. A god cannot initiate a fight with a mortal.

3. No direct interference - gods are not allowed to interfere in the lives and ongoings of mortals or monsters.

4. No more than 3 people are allowed on a quest.

5. Harming the sacred animals of a god is forbidden.

And that's it. Those are the only true mentions of the Ancient Laws in the entirety of the Riordanverse (at least, the Greco-Roman books).

And I think we all know what the most important one is. Direct Interference is the only one we see Zeus actively enforcing (or at least attempting to). But why is that? Well, stealing another god's symbol of power and initiating a battle with a mortal are physically impossible for gods, and the ban on harming a sacred animal is very commonly accepted already, as it's a guaranteed way to get your ass whooped. And the rule about having 3 on a quest isn't really something Zeus is going to spare the effort to enforce - starting a quest with more than 3 will typically guarantee that you come home with only 3, if at all.

But Direct Interference is the most interesting law, simply because it's the one that our demigod narrators are affected by the most, either in the ways their godly parents violate it, or refuse to do so.

There's plenty of instances where this law has had quite a bit of impact on the story and relationships. For example, Hermes used this law as a major reason why he could not help Luke or prevent him from raising Kronos. But let's be honest: besides Zeus himself, Hermes might be one of the only gods that actually obey this rule, despite the fact that he wants to break it. Just off the top of my head, I can name an instance in the series where every single Olympian at least toed the line of violating Direct Interference, except for maybe Demeter. And I'm not sure Dionysus counts, since he has contact with his half-blood children because of his position at CHB.

But there's something interesting even about the ways these gods break the law of Direct Interference. In most instances, these interactions with mortals happen when the god is in disguise, or through dreams. And, based on how little it seems like the gods get punished for breaking Direct Interference, we can only assume that Zeus is not aware of when gods talk to demigods via dreams. I mean, he's probably aware that it happens: Apollo, Poseidon, Hephaestus, Aphrodite, Hera, Ares (who occasionally follows the rule, but only as an excuse to not help a demigod out), Artemis (although she is subject to exceptions due to her domain), Dionysus, Athena (I think?), and Hades all do it at least once in the RRverse. I mean, you could also argue that dreams are a more indirect means if interference, but I can also see how that's an iffy argument at best.

So, what does this mean? If there is one thing I know about laws and rules in general is that people tend to break laws if the direct consequences of their own actions don't directly apply to them. Gods would probably respect the law of Direct Interference more if there was an immediate negative effect on themselves, aside from just the punishment.

Think of a law or a rule that people break all the time. Littering, for example. People do it all the time, even though it's bad. But why is it bad? A person who doesn't have a lot of forethought will drop a piece of trash and say 'hey, that doesn't affect me. The planet will suffer and this will be a pain in the ass to clean up, but I'm not the one cleaning it up, so why do I care?' If you don't care about the planet or other people cleaning up your trash, the only reason you have to not litter is that you're afraid of the punishment.

I think the attitude towards Direct Interference is similar. The only reason a god would obey is if they're afraid of the punishment, or if they respect Zeus enough to follow his laws (which, clearly, is not the norm in godly society). And even then, what is a punishment to an immortal being? The only way Zeus punishes gods that really matters to them is turning them mortal - and that's a very rare occurrence.

By that logic, we can assume that a violation of Direct Interference does not actually negatively affect gods all that much. To be honest, it doesn't negatively affect mortals either. Maybe monsters have the short end of the stick, but monsters didn't write the law of Direct Interference - Zeus did. So... why? Why does it exist?

My first thought was the Fates and prophecy - if gods can interact in mortal life without recourse, then it might fuck with the way the Fates operate. But gods have been interfering for the entirety of civilization. If they really had a the power to alter the future just by dipping a toe in mortal life, don't you think it would have been obvious? Even in the RRverse, there are plenty of instances, as I've mentioned, that gods have interfered in a quest, and said quest wasn't severely fucked over because of that interference. Take, for instance, Percy's quest to save Artemis - Apollo intervened, but where were the consequences of that? Where were the earth-shattering effects?

So what gives? Also, I'd argue that the gods would actually obey the law more if they knew it had such a negative effect on the proper functioning of the Fates, especially Apollo since that's his domain. So I'm going to say that's not the case.

So we're back to the first question: why does the law against Direct Interference exist if it has no effect on the gods or the Fates? In all references to the law against Direct Interference in the Riordanverse, never once is it explained why this law exists. Why would Zeus create it if violating it doesn't have some major world-ending effect? Gods are gods: what could make this law so important that it's the only one Zeus makes a true effort to enforce?

Well, it makes sense to me that Zeus would create the law if he's the one who has to bear the immediate consequences of it. Which raises the question: what are the immediate consequences? What reason could Zeus possibly have to separate half-blood children from their godly parents? HMmmmmmmMMMM.

Well, there's another interesting thing about the Ancient Laws: some of them don't apply to mortals. Mortals can steal a god's symbol of power, and mortals can initiate battles with gods. Imagine with me a scenario in which your enemy has an army that is not subject to the same laws you are. Gods are (as far as I know) physically incapable of stealing symbols of power and starting battles with mortals, but what does that matter if they have half-blood children that reach the power of minor gods, like Percy, who can do that for you?

It's a terrifying premise, if you're Zeus. And before you start telling me that I'm going down yet another far-fetched rabbit hole (listen - I always make sense in the end), we've seen Zeus go down this line of thought before, all the way back in The Lightning Thief. Remember???

Chiron said that the reason Zeus blamed Percy for stealing the Master Bolt was because the mines the Cyclopes used to forge the bolts is close to Poseidon's domain, and he thinks Poseidon has it out for him. Now, there's a theory running around the TOA fandom that gods can control how much power they hand off to their children (as seen with Apollo's children, who rarely inherit the power of prophecy, which we're willing to bet is something Apollo is controlling from behind the scenes), and if Zeus knew that Poseidon had had a child, it's possible Zeus thought Poseidon was trying to create a super-child just for the sake of overthrowing him. I'm willing to bet that one of his greatest fears is that an über-powerful child of one of his brothers would be used to steal his symbol of power and then overthrow him. He views demigod children like weapons that his enemies can use because they could be inherently dangerous to the standard structure of godly society. His main fear is somebody with the motivation of Luke having the power of Percy. And what do paranoid kings do when presented with the idea of their greatest fears? Make laws against them.

The only way Zeus could be sure that Poseidon would never intentionally have a child like Percy, then bring him under his wing just in time to start a rebellion against him is to ban that kind of interaction at all.

Counterpoint: you could also say that the law against Direct Interference was a way to protect the mortals against the gods who might harm them or do them dirty. Like getting women pregnant while in the form of a swan. Ahem ahem. Do you get my point, though? It's not like Zeus has any real reason to protect the mortals in this way, since he was one of the main perpetrators anyways, but it is a damn good excuse if he also wanted a reason to prevent a potential revolution led by demigods.

Now, if you'll bear with me for a little bit longer, there is one more interesting thing I'd like to point out: In the entirety of Trials of Apollo, Apollo (a god, obviously) only mentions following the Ancient Laws once. Unsurprisingly, at the time he's mentioning the law against Direct Interference, he's also violating it - when he kills Commodus to save lives, Rome, and for his own peace of mind. So, to me this basically means that Apollo doesn't give two single shits about following laws against Direct Interference.

Connect that with everything else we know about Apollo post-trials: he loves his kids, doesn't want to see them hurt, and is trying to distance himself from Zeus and godly society. Even pre-trials, he doesn't have any trouble admitting that Zeus makes his rules and laws difficult to follow - nobody is good enough in Zeus' eyes. I truly believe, if there's any person who, given the proper means and motivation to overthrow at least some aspects of the Direct Interference law, he would.

Just saying. Feel free to add on if anybody else has more thoughts!

[a masterlist of my other metas]

[leiflitter]

Gale Dekarios and The Wizard of Waterdeep

Aka Leif vents their brain into Tumblr again because I have Thoughts About The Wizard! Is it coherent? PROBABLY NOT I'M DOING THIS FOR FUN.

General rambling below the cut!

Firstly- this little braindump is based upon my interpretation of Gale as a Neurodivergent Individual, so I guess if you're not on the "Gale would be so fuckin into magic the gathering if he was in this realm" train, then this may not be for you. Which is fine! I'm just yelling into the void here.

Also; characters are fun because we can interpret them in different ways! This is in no way meant to stomp on anyone else's headcanons of Gale, and may even be entirely overwritten if more info comes out about him from Larian.

I wrote a ton and then fuckin lost it all but hey that's fine I can condense it WAY more now. So let's go, bullet points!

Gale of Waterdeep is Gale Dekarios' mask.

If you don't know what Masking is- a quick definition for ya-

Neurodivergent masking refers to the practice of concealing or suppressing aspects of one's neurodivergent traits or conditions, in order to fit in with the norms of the workplace or society.

Let's begin at the beginning-

Gale as a child would have been insufferable. He was a prodigy, yes, but also clearly lacked proper consequences for his actions (his punishment for Blackstaff hijinks in his first year? Writing lines. HE OPENED A PORTAL TO LIMBO AND ALMOST DIED). This may be due to Mystra's influence, even if it was indirect, but there's no faster way to alienate a child from their peers than to both mark them as Very Special and let them get away with everything. Gale's magical education likely left his social education lacking.

As Gale's also mentioned that he was a prodigy, and was using 4th level spells (summon elemental) when he was living at home (at least part of the time), he may even have been younger than his fellow first year apprentice wizards when he was admitted- further isolating him. He specifically says he was a child when he, uh, "borrowed" the blackstaff- we just don't know how old Blackstaff first years tend to be.

Also, from Gale's story about the Blackstaff, he seemed to be attending Wizard Boarding School (he wanted to get to the first year dorms). So he was not only set apart from his peers, he had to live in a dorm with them.

To navigate this difficult social situation, Gale Dekarios becomes Gale of Waterdeep- he starts Masking. He puts on his Wizard Suit and acts the way Wizards should, because those are the Wizard Rules.

For an example of these Wizard Rules- the closest equivalent we have to Pre-Folly Gale would probably be Lorroakan - and Lorroakan is a great example of Wizard Language and Wizard Rules. Yes, Lorroakan is an absolute shitweasel, but let's consider him an extreme example- pre-folly Gale turned up to 15. Heck, he even does the little ☝️ when you speak to him (Gale does it better bro, sorry).

Elminster is also a good example- he's almost allergic to just saying something straight out until he absolutely has to, but he'll dance around the point repeatedly. A trait Gale shows before he reveals the orb:

Gale. Seriously. He'd get you a birthday present and make five billion hints about it, I swear. But again- that's How Fancy Wizards Talk in this canon. And Gale does it excellently.

Gale masking also explains how his Wizard Rizz and his loneliness coexist. Gale of Waterdeep has a practiced tongue and has totally had sex with mortals. Gale Dekarios, on the other hand, is stuck inside Gale of Waterdeep like that little alien in Men in Black.

The Wizard of Waterdeep can only facilitate shallow connections because there's nothing behind the Thesaurus Vocabulary. The confidence he projects is essentially an illusion, but it's one he relies on to navigate his world. He's isolated by default- as you grow closer, he admits this:

Note how he says Tara was "always" telling him to get mortal friends- we know that Gale conjured Tara when he was young. Assuming that he's not exaggerating to an exponential degree, we can assume that Gale's never really had a friendship based on actual mutual appreciation- more that any connections he had were entirely due to his magical ability and proximity to Mystra.

Thus while he may not be a virgin on the physical plane, I doubt that his experiences were in any way personal or meaningful.

We know Gale's a romantic at heart- but again, he cannot remove the mask. From personal experience, masking can often lead you to do things you don't quite "get" because it's what "normal" people do.

Although it could be explained by scripting limitations, I would have expected any meaningful romantic encounters to be mentioned- especially as you directly ask him if you're his first mortal partner. Gale is an expert at oversharing- I would consider it in-character for him to ramble about his first mortal love before realising that he's cramming his foot into his mouth and shutting up (similar to the "Mystra once took the tiniest piece of weave and-" scene).

Again, without further info from Gale's writers, we've got space to play in- my personal feeling is that Gale has had hookups, most likely with his wizarding peers, but as he didn't let his peers see beyond the Wizard of Waterdeep, anything more than casual just wouldn't happen. He couldn't let anyone close enough to get behind the mask, especially not another wizard- as other wizards are those he's most trying to blend in with.

Enter Mystra (Derogatory) + a lil more Lorroakan (Derogatory)

A minor sidetrack here- part of why I tend to see Gale as early-mid 30s is to do with the Mystra timeline and my own personal experiences. So- firstly, as BG3 is set in 1492. Mystra was slain (aw yeah) in 1385, which started The Spellplague, but she was restored (boo, hiss, we were fine without her) in 1480. So there's about 12ish years where Mystra was, y'know, alive and able to interact with Gale. Gale spent one of those years with the orb, and before that he had to go and find the orb. So let's say he and Mystra spent about a decade together, from teacher > lover.

I've already expounded about why I think Mystra doesn't give a single shit about Gale in my previous GaleRant- my basic thoughts are that Mystra's relationship with Gale was a form of damage control to prevent him becoming Karsus 2.0, but as she didn't actually care enough about him to get to know him, her plans actually made him more likely to go all Netherese Magic.

We're going to hop back to Lorroakan for a sec. Again, he proves to be a good analogue for Gale. Lorroakan has been in residence at Ramazith's Tower for about 10 years- even though context clues show us that he's definitely not up to Gale's standard, so we'll assume he's probably a little bit older than our Child Prodigy- and he's definately less of a go-getter, seeing as how he's paying folks to go get the Nightsong instead of doing it himself. The big baby.

Lorroakan is important because he demonstrates the sort of shit egotistical wizards do when they aren't distracted by Mystra's blue sparkly tits. Again, a minor assumption that he's maybe a little older than Gale- he has taken ownership of a famous Wizard's Tower, absolutely upped his PR game to Kardashian tier over a decade, and now he's trying to find the Nightsong. Is it just me, or is there HUBRIS in the air?

Now, back to Gale. We know he was trying to prove himself from childhood. Elementals, Tara, The Blackstaff- and, frankly, does he seem like the kind of guy to leave it at that? I doubt it- hence why I peg him at early-mid 30s, depending on when Mystra tried the Godly equivalent of danging keys in front of a cat. I reckon he'd have dashed into some sort of cataclysmic bullshittery as soon as he graduated from Wizard School. And we know he probably became a full-fledged wizard early, given that he's a smart lil guy.

HOWEVER, back to my actual point about Gale's general social life/etc- Gale absolutely lacks real-world experience.

I'm not talking him hanging out in the Yawning Portal. I'm talking his actual, prolonged exposure to the world outside of Wizard Life.

(Yes, it is absolutely possible that he spent however-long just quietly studying for Wizard in between him becoming a full wizard and his exile, but! With age comes exposure- and Gale is actually a fairly adventurous lil dweeb. He's curious- and again, had he been given true freedom, he probably would be off gathering eldritch relics and causing havok)

My main point, though, is that a major point of Gale's entire plot is that he is being forcibly unmasked by the circumstances he's in- and this is in many ways the catalyst for late-game stuff.

Gale's primary conflict isn't truly against Mystra, because let's be real- Mystra doesn't give much of a shit about him one way or another. I'm not even convinced that she cares about The Absolute- I think she just doesn't want to go through the hassle of dying again, and she doesn't respect Gale enough to even consider a way to actually communicate with him about it.

Gale's arc is a struggle between Gale of Waterdeep and Gale Dekarios- and Gale coming to terms with himself as a person. Not as a wizard. Not as a prodigy. Not as anything special- just a man.

You see it in the language he uses- he goes from speaking in monologues to telling you to stop licking the damn thing!

You see it in his emotional range expanding- when you yoink him from the portal, he's immediately cheery! You could whack him in a faculty party and he'd probably behave in the exact same way- and then the night before Moonrise he's terrified. He even becomes more honest in his aspirations- yes, he still dresses it up to be persuasive, but he doesn't try to play it cool. He's absolutely geeking out about it alongside everything else.

Gale of Waterdeep demands a lot to be maintained, and it's a comforting outfit to wear. He slips, but the beauty in the story is that you can take Gale Dekarios by the hand and show him that he can be mortal. He can feel pain and greed and desire, disgust and shame and sadness, and it isn't a bad thing. He can be confident for real, and not as camouflage- he can be horny on main and as long as it's genuine, he's absolutely rockin' it.

And as someone who was and is going through it, it's made me appreciate him immensely.

[shotorozu]

pretend boyfriend

(i use guardian because idk there was this one time i used “mom” in a though unrelated n old draft and i showed it to someone and they replied with “i don’t have a mom” 😧)

note(s): also this totally wasn’t inspired by something that happened to me some time ago 😭 and this upload is late so IGNORE that it’s no longer february (actually, for 10 days now) and focus on how i’m early for white day— basically a day in japan in which guys give chocolate to their crush or partner instead of girls giving chocolates to guys (which happens on valentines day) white day is on march 14 btw

»»————-　♡　————-««

you realize your sad plan for your single, partner-less white day— an extension of valentines day, backfired on you when your guardian asks you about a boyfriend upon your usual visit from school.

“what?” you question, sounding unbelieving of the question, like it was a collection of meaningless words. “i don’t have a boyfriend—”

“the chocolates say otherwise,” they point out, interested in the heart shaped box of sweets. “can i see a picture? i need to know if they’re good for you!”

what an… interesting way to determine who’s good for you. “there’s no boy— no one, trust me.” you insist, sounding a little more panicked than you would’ve liked— and this only fueled her suspicion.

“there has to be someone, you’re beautiful!” they insist. you would’ve felt complimented if it weren’t for the context of it all, and also the fact that they’re just talking about physicality “really, who gave it to you?”

you’re hesitant to say that you actually bought them yourself, not just to replicate the experience of having a significant other, (now that you’ve realized how hard you’ve been pining over someone incredibly unattainable)

but also because you couldn’t resist the contents of the box.

sure, you were given other pieces of chocolate and sweets from your classmates even some of the girls! (which wasn’t common to see on white day of all days) and a suspiciously expensive looking cupcake box landed on your table too.

(you didn’t eat it, you just couldn’t accept the fact that it wasn’t actually decor, until you went to eat lunch and smelled the thing.)

but those chocolates were obviously obligatory, considering the context of white day. besides, the box you bought was different— it had all your favorite flavors and it was from your favorite sweets brand. you just couldn’t help but tear a small portion of your allowance out of your wallet for this treat alone.

you don’t know what your guardian would say— they’d either insist that you’re lying, or they’d make fun of you, and none of these options sound appealing.

you deflate, not having a good defense. “… a friend.”

they don’t seem convinced. nobody used a friend to refer to their actual friend. you mentally beat yourself over this simple mistake.

this only proves their point, “hmm, okay..”

there’s a beat of silence.

“i’m still expecting a picture.”

your heart rate picks up, and you can feel your veins be filled with anxiety.

and now you’re returning to the dorms, absolutely mortified— and it clearly shows on your face based on how your best friend, todoroki shouto, approaches you at the front door with a concerned look.

“you look.. distressed.” he notes out loud, as he opens the door.

shouto’s quick to help you get your shoes off, letting you lean on him as you undo your shoelaces. he pulls off each shoe afterwards— the action so casual.

“it’s because i am, shouto!” you exclaimed, following him in. “i did something stupid and now i’m paying the consequences of my actions!”

shouto’s two toned brows furrow, there’s a deep look settled on his pretty face— and he draws all his focus on you. “whatever it is, we can fix it.”

“i’m sure but, my ego! my dignity!” you groan, and your hands cover your face as if it’ll burrow you away from the embarrassment and transport you to a place of peace.

“i won’t laugh,” he says, an indirect way of saying that he won’t absolutely clown you for any of your decision making skills.

shouto then holds his pinkie up, waiting for you to take it. it’s a clear show that he’s intent. “promise.”

“sure,” you say as you link pinkies, the warmth of his pinkie making embarrassment creep up your neck instantly. “i trust you.”

you breathe in as preparation. “i bought chocolates for myself and my guardian thinks i have a boyfriend and is asking for a picture, so now i’m screwed because i don’t have a boyfriend in the first place, and i’ve told them that i don’t but they just don’t believe me, so i might have to get a fake boyfriend for a picture!”

all of it just spilled out at once. you aren’t even sure if shouto understood, let alone was able to comprehend all of it due to the lack of reaction.

but when you carefully examine— you realize that a reaction slowly shows on his face, like it just dawned on him the information you’ve dumped.

“fake boyfriend.” he echoes, “for a picture.”

“yes!” you groan, mortified of the other possible solution of the matter being slapped in your face again, “and they need to be tall, handsome, and apparently someone that looks rich— don’t know how a picture can prove that, we don’t even have jobs.”

“anyway, they’ll just criticize me for my choice in people.” you sigh, “i’m lost.”

he folds his arms together, and he unintentionally flexes. your eyes follow the movement for a short second before you realize that you cannot be caught gawking at someone you’ve met when you were both five. “it appears you are quite in a situation.”

“yeah..”

“if only there was someone available to help.”

“yeah—”

“someone close to you.”

“i figured— it’d be awkward to ask someone who i’m not really close with to be my fake…” you trail off, brows furrowing when you realize there might be some insinuation in his words. you can’t tell what he is necessarily eluding to— but,

you take a good look at shouto— an very good look. you size him up, and he allows this as he is basically standing politely. there’s a fixed look of stillness in every aspect of his expression, and he’s calm when he speaks,

“i could play the role.” he suggests like he doesn’t understand the weight of his words, or he doesn’t care that much about it.

you can feel your heart in your throat all of a sudden, and the beat of it is becoming painfully loud.

“shouto,” you somehow manage to get out, “they know who you are.”

your deep rooted history together as close friends would be seen as a plus point, if it weren’t for the fact that you’ve refrained from showing (let alone hinting) any sign of your feelings for him. shouto did the same, except you are absolutely sure he doesn’t want anything more than platonic with you— as he has displayed no such signs.

the sudden shift of events would raise more questions instead of just solving one.

besides, who doesn’t know him nowadays? he’s tall, good looking, strapped with money and a multipurpose and hella useful quirk. heck— his appearance during the sports festival was a huge thing and has definitely made a positive mark on his reputation.

additionally, it was hard for your guardian to miss someone with an alluring presence like shouto’s, and a head full of naturally snow-like, and flaming red hair.

you think carefully before coming up with something easy. “what if i just asked one of the girls to wear an oversized hoodie; and stand on a stool? i’d crop out their face, of course. kyouka or yaomomo could—”

before you were allowed to finish your thought, shouto continued to press on his idea. “i’d be the most preferable, since the backstory makes the most sense.”

you pause. you’ve never thought of an actual backstory for you too, and you couldn’t quite indulge in the self blame— you didn’t think he’d agree at all.

“childhood friends turned best friends, and with a bond that drew us together.” his gaze fleets somewhere below your eyes, and then he draws them back up— a small boyish grin now blessing his face. “besides, you’d be in quite some trouble if they asked for a picture of their face.”

oh, that description sounded way too close to home, so much that you forgot. now that shouto mentioned one, that solution does seem to have its loop holes.

“touché.” the lengths he’d do for you is admirable, and your heart would’ve stuttered if it weren’t for the dull reminder from the back of your mind, of what it’s really like between the two of you.

“so uhm, what now? do you want to take the picture right later or—”

“now would be good.”

“oh uh, okay then…” shouto never wastes time, even when it came to unimportant stuff it seems, and he watches as you shift around to find your phone.

getting your phone is something that never takes any time, but with everything being taken account for, your hands are starting to feel like jelly.

after opening your camera app and switching to selfie mode, you position your phone carefully. not just like a photographer that was about to capture a rare wild animal laying still, but also similarly to how people take pictures with celebrities.

you are cautious of the angle. although you’ve almost seen every single expression that he could make— you’re worried how you could make everything look good, make him look phenomenal. (although it seems impossible to make him look anything but)

you end up snapping a photo that’s majorly of him, and the only show of you being in the same frame was the very top of your head shoved to the corner of the screen.

the two of you stare at the photo, exchanging glances. you might think that this is enough, considering that this photo of shouto is nowhere on the internet. so— plus one for authenticity, sorta.

he’s not your real boyfriend, but your guardian won’t know that from looking at the picture.

“let’s do a retake.”

you nearly stumble, like his words were a gust of strong wind. “huh?”

“this photo.. doesn’t seem authentic. i wouldn’t know what it’d be like to be in a relationship but the couples on television look— different. don’t you think?”

you take another look at the photo. although the couples shouto is referring to are actresses and actors playing roles— he’s right for the most part. the distance between the two of you is hard to miss, nobody would be able to guess that you two were together.

not to mention, it’s more of a picture of him instead of the both of you.

“alright then,” you say in agreement. “any suggestions?”

“if i may.”

“of course you may,” you encourage.

“then…” he shifts, feet moving closer to you. “if you’ll allow me.”

shouto’s hands reach out, and you’re immediately drawn to them. although unsure about his next course of action, you don’t stop him as he pulls you close— hands with contrasting temperatures maneuvering the positions to his liking.

eventually, the two of you were positioned in a way that made you encase shouto in your arms and have you turnt slightly towards the camera.

the side of your faces are pressed against each other’s, and despite trying your best to stop it, the proximity had your heart thumping against your ribcage once again.

making sure you don’t prolong the ordeal more than you need to— you snap the picture and attempt to pick yourself up afterwards.

but shouto makes no effort in detaching himself from you, relaxing in your arms as he leans against you to view the picture. you feel yourself flustering again, and you just know that he could end you one day and be blissfully unaware of how and why.

although you just took a big risk that could possibly have your feelings found out— you were just as curious as he was to see the outcome.

and you two seemed like a couple indeed.

“thoughts?” you ask in place of allowing yourself to slowly pass away on the inside. your skin feeling increasingly hot all of a sudden, and you’re confident the boy beside you has nothing to do with it this time.

“just as i suspected.” a small smile pulls at his lips, “we look good together.”

your brain buffers, “huh?—”

and then, he’s pressing his soft lips onto your cheek— pulling back as quickly as he pressed his lips onto you.

you choke on practically nothing, and you stare at him with eyes so wide they rival saucers.

and then it started to make sense, “what— are you playing me?— you’re doing all of this for a picture i didn’t even take!”

he tilts his head, confused for a moment before letting out a disapproving noise. “i… was teasing at some point, but i would never play you. i even pinkie swore.” he said, holding the same pinkie he linked with yours earlier to prove his memory.

“so why… after all this time?”

his gaze sharpens, “why not?” he states simply, “i figured just recently that.. the feelings are mutual, and that you’re interested in the way i’m interested in you.”

he clutches you, shoving himself deeper in your embrace, “besides, there was no way i’d let you ask anyone else to be your pretend boyfriend when i’m right here.”

“it would be just for a picture though.” you note, slightly amused that todoroki shouto was jealous at the idea of having a pretend boyfriend for a picture— even if said pretend boyfriend were to be one of the girls from your class.

a specific blank expression is pinned onto his face. “still.” he replies, quite dryly.

though the expression immediately melts away as he says these next words, “now then,” gorgeous, gorgeous heterochromatic eyes meeting yours in a gaze. shouto holds it, and it seems that he’s taking advantage of his effect on you. he’s quick, not to mention— observant too.

“we should take another picture, one that’s much real.”

[oftenwantedafton]

The Perfect Girl - Dave Miller/William Afton x Female Reader

Chapter 8

Rating - Explicit

Warnings - restraints, captivity, sexual content, blood kink, minor violence

Also available on AO3

You’re bound to the bed.

Each wrist is separately linked, fastened above your head so that your arms are stretched. Already aching. Your head throbs from slamming against William’s and then the wall. You’re still fully dressed. One ankle is bound again. Barefoot.

You’re alone, but you know he’s watching. “William, please don’t do this, I’m sorry…” The metal digs into your skin. “I didn’t want to leave you, I just…I can’t stay here…please, William, please…” Your voice trails off. Your throat is so parched. It’s like trying to swallow gravel.

The door opens and your breath hitches. Afton crosses the room and stands beside the bed. He’s carrying something. A knife, you realize. A heavy butcher knife for carving. Held loosely. He’s comfortable with it. He’s used it before. Your eyes widen and you squirm against your restraints.

“You’ve disappointed me.” His voice is low, quiet. Dangerous.

“I know, I was bad, I’m sorry, just let me—”

“—I warned you there would be consequences, did I not? For every action. A gifted reward. Or a merited punishment. Now you’ve chosen the latter. You chose this,” he emphasizes, laying the flat of the blade against your abdomen where there is a faint gap between your skimpy printed tank top and shorts. The metal is cold. You’re afraid to breathe too deeply. You have no doubt of how sharp that kitchen utensil is. “Wasn’t I good to you? Fulfilling your every desire…” He lifts the knife, dragging the point softly along the outside of your clothes. You can barely feel it through the denim shorts, but the thin cotton and spandex top is quite another story.

“You were. It’s not you, it’s this place. I’m worried about my mother. I don’t want to miss college. I can’t spend the rest of my life chained up here. Surely you understand that.”

The blade now rests against your throat. You don’t even dare swallow.

“You chose this,” he repeats softly. The knife lifts away and you gasp for air.

The security guard turns on his heel and walks away.

***

The evening drags.

Your fingers are numb. Your shoulders are on fire. You think Afton might still be watching, as exhausted as he must be. Your know your pleas fall on deaf ears and eventually you surrender, falling silent.

William returns in the morning. The rumpled uniform clothes confirm your earlier suspicions. He'd obviously spent the night spying on your bound form. He releases your wrists. You try to work feeling back into them. Use the bathroom. Brush your teeth. There are no lingering touches today when he helps you undress for the shower. Brisk and formal. His eyes refuse to meet yours, no matter how much you plead and ask for forgiveness.

Pajamas today. Again, each task of assistance performed stiffly and rapidly. No more wrist restraints, for which you’re grateful. He leaves without uttering a single word.

Each day becomes like this now. William refuses to speak, his first words in an indeterminable amount of days a warning when you try to reach for his hand after he’s replaced the shackle one morning. “Don’t touch me.”

Sometimes he brings the knife in. Lets it sit on the counter. A reminder. A threat. It frightens you. But it’s something. Some additional indirect contact made between you. Your breathing becomes shallow when he lays it along some exposed portion of skin. Your throat or your shoulder beneath the strap of whatever you’re clothed in or tucked beneath your shirt. Pressed along your thigh. Testing. Teasing. Then the kiss of metal is gone. You don’t dare try to touch it yourself. You know you’d never be fast enough. You still don’t think you could bring yourself to physically harm him.

There are no more shared meals together. The books and music and movies lay untouched. You barely eat. You know you’re losing weight, your collarbones and ribs more prominent than before. You’re losing track of the passage of time. You no longer know what day of the week it is. What month it is. Surely not past August yet. You stare into the one-way mirror. You stare at the ceiling. You try to touch your captor again and again, any part of him your fingers can curl around. He shrugs you off as if your touch is poison. His eyes still evade yours. You even long for the knife at this point. He’s ceased bringing it with him. The quiet anger almost worries you more than when he gives voice to it. Surely he’ll forgive you eventually.

He has to.

The silence and touch deprivation are becoming unbearable.

***

William settles into the chair behind the monitors in the security office, watching you. He watches you like this every day, though you don’t realize it. Or maybe you do. Maybe you are aware. Some sixth sense. Something linking you.

One month later the rage is quieter but still there. The betrayal. He does not like how it makes him feel. He’s accustomed to failed relationships; his own ruined marriage and shattered bonds with his children proof enough of that. Now there are the other children. The ones that sleep and do not judge. Then there is you. His special, perfect girl. He misses your touches and your kisses. No matter how falsely they were offered. He could still feel, still taste the lingering threads of truth and sincerity in them. There was something there. Something about you and he together. This bond. He can’t have been that mistaken. He knows he isn’t. The way you keep trying to reach for him. The way you seem to even enjoy the touch of the knife. That’s why he’s been depriving you of it. Making you hungrier. Maybe you understand a little better now.

Maybe this is how it should have been all along.

He glances at his wristwatch. His shift is nearly over. Time to make sure the mall is empty and secure. He hasn’t been in the habit of returning to you at night.

Maybe tonight will be different.

***

William enters the living space that evening and you look at him, surprised by this visit. Even as confused as you are about the time and date these days, you know it’s not morning. He hasn’t done this in a long time.

The older man still avoids your gaze. He walks right past your seated figure on the loveseat, pausing only long enough to dump an empty canvas bag on the kitchen counter. Laundry day, then. He collects it every so often. He’s got a duffel bag as well. A change of clothes for him, maybe. You hear the water running in the shower.

Your feet are bare. You’re wearing a white gauzy button front dress and white lace boy shorts. He’s shown no interest in anything you choose to wear from the assortment he’s provided anymore. The fragrances do not seem to tempt him like they once did. He is no longer enamored with your presence. He displays no interest in anything beyond seeing his prisoner’s most basic needs are met.

You walk to the bathroom, the sounds of the links whispering together lost in the noise of the forceful spray of water. Afton’s uniform is folded neatly on the sink, a bath towel and his bag nearby. Your fingers gather the curtain and you drag it back, stepping into the shower still fully dressed.

William turns immediately, making you think he’s known you were approaching all along. He slaps away the hands that reach for him and shoves you against the wall, firmly but without malice. Your clothes are instantly soaked, the plastered thin material exposing everything beneath. Again your hands reach for him, your grasping fingers easily deflected. He still won’t meet your gaze. “Don’t touch me again.” A low warning that’s barely audible. He pins your wrists beside your head. The water runs over your parted lips. You think that’s where his eyes focus. His chest heaves. He drags you back through the spray, one hand wrapped tightly around your upper arm. The other jerks the faucet handle off.

The chain rattles as he pulls you back to the bedroom, still dripping. Rivulets of water spill over the knife blade cheeks. You’re shoved onto your back on top of the bed. He climbs over you. Your hands make another futile attempt to touch any part of him you can. His fingers clamp and pin them down. His panting mouth hovers near yours. “You don’t want me, remember? You don’t get to touch me.”

“I do want you. Please, William, please…”

His eyes meet yours finally, at long last. Completely black. The arms held taut are shaking. “You’re lying to me again.”

“I’m not, I’m not, William, please. I want it. I want to be good for you, I want to be yours…”

His knee wedges between your thighs. You squeeze him there, whimpering at the contact of his body with your sex covered with damp lace.

“Do not fucking move,” he growls.

You freeze obediently. Waiting. He moves off of you. Returns quickly. Bringing back something he’s kept nearby. Metal against your drenched skin. The knife in the space between the leg opening and waistband of your underwear.

“Hold still.” You feel the fabric give. He repeats the process for the other side. Your hips lift and the blade makes contact with your groin, slicing your flesh, staining the delicate fabric. The look that washes over his features when he sees what you’ve made him do. The line of crimson mixing with the crystal shower droplets. Raw hunger.

His body moves down. His tongue licks the stripe of your injury. You writhe beneath the contact, moaning. He sucks the skin. Vampiric. Ravenous. You force yourself to keep your hands still until he gives you permission to move.

The knife tears through the skirt front of your saturated dress. Severs the flimsy bodice portion covering your breasts. His fingers knot roughly in your hair, shoving your head back into the pillow. His breathing is so desperate he’s drooling. A thin trail of saliva you can’t stop staring at.

Your legs are spread for him. A faint pressure at your entrance. His cock resting there. You’ve lost track of the knife. You’re willing to bet William hasn’t. Another test? You don’t dare fail this one. The pressure increases agonizingly slow. He’s waiting.

“Yes, please, please…” You wince and try to stifle a sob when he begins to enter you in earnest. Your face becomes wet with tears now, mixing with the water from the shower. He pushes in further. Sighs a moan. His lips finally drop to yours when he slides in fully. Shuddering. Inside you at last. Pain. Your teeth sink into his lips. His kisses are frenzied, all over your face. How long it had been since he’d last put his mouth on you. You lap at him, drunk off the feeling of being truly touched after going without for so long. Afton thrusts back and forth, still struggling against the narrow confines of your body. You feel the blood weeping from the laceration, but the discomfort is muted beneath the bright stinging stretch around him. Your teeth find his shoulder. His hands restraining your wrists relaxing. Fingers threading through yours. He presses into you. Withdraws. Returns. It’s smoother now. There’s new wetness that’s not from the shower. Your own slick. Your womb welcomes the intrusion.

William reaches between your bodies. Touches the blood trail. Rubs it over your clit. Goes back for more. Paints your lips with it. Licks it off of you. Back to touching you again. The words you try to utter are senseless. You’re overwhelmed. Helpless sounds of pleasure. Moans of satisfaction sighed in reply. You shatter against him. He follows your careen over the cliff. Descending into bliss.

***

Your wound is dressed. You are dressed. Bedding changed. Necessary, as it is soaked from your wet bodies. Bloodstained, from your injury. From giving yourself to him.

The knife is nowhere in sight.

[eremin0109]

listen im so fucking over the misogynistic trope of the lead woman dying for excruciating amounts of ✨️ m a n p a i n ✨️ BUT hear me out.

at this point in the story, Euijeong and her safety is probably the only thing tethering Junmo to continue on with this undercover mission. he started it off with a selfish intent, to get promoted and rub it in the faces of his ever disapproving in-laws. to prove to them, once and for all, how he deserves to sit at that table with them. how he's worthy of their daughter.

but then he took things too far and got too entangled into this dangerous business. and in turn, it gave him everything that he ever wanted. in the short amount of time he's been with the Gangnam Union, he quickly shot through the ranks, became Gicheol's Number 2, earned the respect of some of the most notorious criminals this side of Asia.

here, in this lawless world, no one cares what his father did. he and his boss have had similar childhoods, so Gicheol understands what it's like to live in the shadows of having a druggie parent, more than anyone–more than even Euijeong.

and Junmo can't help but get a little addicted to how powerful it all makes him feel. how easy it would be to cross over to this side in finality, stay at Gicheol's side who he knows would give him the world and beyond, who's already given him so much against the wishes of his officers, if he just stuck to it. it's so wrong, and that's why it's so fucking alluring.

and Gicheol? he too is on the cusp of everything he's ever wanted, or at least that's what he'd like to believe. he finally is reunited with Euijeong, his dream construction project will soon start commencement and he'd get to have that white picket fence with her. he has his man by his side, ready to protect him...them with his life. just a few loose ends, just the finalization of this deal, just those last few steps and then he could just leave this life behind altogether. for better one. for a happier one.

so euijeong is the catalyst to both of their goals right now. but what if she's removed from the equation? right now, she's in a more vulnerable position than she's ever been in. there will be forces gunning for her and there's only so much Gicheol and Junmo can do to prevent the other shoe from falling.

if she died, as a direct or indirect consequence of both Gicheol and Junmo's actions, what becomes of them? what would Junmo do, without his tether, without his anchor to the "good" side of the world? what would Gicheol do after having his dream decimated, after losing her yet again, this time permanently?

what would that mean for Junmo and Gicheol's relationship with each other? Would Junmo kill Gicheol and take over the organization for himself, justifying it as an act of revenge for Euijeong? Or would he come clean and take whatever punishment Gicheol sees fit for him because what else has he left to lose anyway. It would be fitting for him to die at the hands of the person who loved his Euijeong just as much as he did.

and what would Gicheol do? would he kill junmo? would he kill himself? or would he ask junmo to stay by his side and see everything to the end with him. for Euijeong. for each other.

[thekingofwinterblog]

There is one detail were I think I need a second opinion on:

So during the manga ending, there is that detail of supposedly Lord Death, with his "madness of order" being able to control everyone on earth - basically being able to solve all crime/evil things from happening.

The fact that he doesnt use this power is presented as a positive thing, basically an indirect way of answering the problem of evil with "actually God gives us free will and thats why evil happens, because denying us the free will would be more evil than anything else"

So ok, what is the sticking point to me? Well Lord Death was kinda hinted as being deeply flawed, and even his death at the end is framed as tragic but as the time necessary and a positive thing, a new generiation taking over creating a better wolrd, ect.

But isn't including such a huge revelation - a revelation that only makes sense with an All Good, kinda absolute God?

Basically, maybe I'm just looking for nitpicks, but to me these two things clash - like the story and Ohkubo couldnt decide between if Lord Death was holding the world back and needed to pass the torch or if he actually was the wacky all knowing force for good all along -

Like if instead it was revealed that Lord Death was pressured to make Kid be an automaton to avoid an Asura situation, but he refused because he didnt sucumb to the despair of failure and had hope in humanity and freedom, it could work as "wow Lord Death had past sins and couldnt steer the world into the future, but here is an action that proved that the flame of his vision was still good and know Kid will be his resurection, like that old NAS song"

Idk, maybe this is all just nonsense to normal people but to me its the best example of Soul Eaters (more the mangas) unwillingness to commit to the "Death is not all good thing" - like the whole WMD's parrelel and shit seems even more out of place and ironically as a way to say "well Bush made mistakes, but American imperialism is a good thing overall!"

(Ok i probably shouldnt have included "politics" here lol)

Anyway I think the anime in the end was better with its more simplistic worldview - cause atleat it didnt break itself - the shadyness of Death was worked into Kids isuess of trust and accepting that he isnt perfect and can place his trust in his partners and is more simmilar to his father in this way etc.

So yeah, if you are still reading and didnt delete it out of boredom, Im interested in a response, cause I'll admit I'm not sure about it 100 percent myself so if you go and say "Nah, thats wrong cause-" I'll probably open to listening

Eh, i'd say that you're looking at this from a wrong perspective.

Shinigami was a good, if very flawed individual, but the thing is that the reason why he could not lead the new age was not because be was flawed... It was because in chasing perfection, he made an error so great that he could never recover from it.

That error being the way he created his first son, not to create a successor, but instead as a byproduct of ripping his fear out of his own self in order to become a "better" God of order, a desciaion that had enormous consequences in that it laid the groundwork for the first Kishin, but also because it left him utterly incapable of feeling fear, and thus incapable of feeling bravery either, and drastically affecting his descision making.

As such, he was incapable of decisively defeating his son, and had to resort to sealing him away, something that also required him to stay in one place forever afterwards.

The school that he founded afterwards to replace his team of immensely powerfull warriors that Asura and Excalibur was a part of, came as a consequence of his own failures shattering that group, and with him no longer being able to move around, he couldn't even uphold his actual purpose in the world.

And thats withouth taking into account how much getting ridd of his own fear screwed him up as a person. Through the series, shinigami is utterly incapable of showing real, true fear, no matter how dire things get. All of his angry moments happens in the moment, as things are happening around him.

He was incapable of truly feeling any sense of urgency when Asura was about to escape, and only after he is free is he able to confront the very real consequences on an emotional level.

Similarily at the end of the series he isnt actually afraid of the witches betraying them despite thinking this is the likely outcome, but when he thinks they do, he flies off the handle to reveal just how much hate he truly has for them.

Hia philosophy debate with his son near the end of the anime is all about exploring how these two family members are unable to feel fear and by extention understand bravery.

Ultimately what Shinigami came to realise and finally accept, is that as a consequence of chasing utter perfection, he ironically made himself too fundamentally broken to lead the way, both as a person, and as a king/god who should be leading his organization by example, rather than being trapped in his city.

Fundamentally Shinigami was a good person... But by his own actions, while chasing perfection he crossed a line that he was never able to uncross. Very much like his son, he believed that if he was the strongest, withouth "flaws", he would be able to see his vision through. Only where Asura wanted to feel completely out of any possible danger, Shinigami wanted keep the word orderly and safe for the good people of the planet.

A good goal. But as they say, the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

[cantheykillmacbeth]

Could Macbeth, from Shakespeare's Macbeth, kill Macbeth by indirect means (starvation, poor health induced by carelessness, alcoholism, etc.)? Though he is a man born of a woman, the thing doing the killing is not him, per se, but the natural consequences of his actions. And consequences are neither gendered not born, so I think prophecy does not apply to them.

While the "consequences of his actions" here would be considered the murder weapon and not the murderer, I do think that this would definitely work narratively in the play itself and that Shakespeare probably would have thought of this as a possibility of how to kill Macbeth- with a pathetic and anticlimactic end that was not brought on by any other person, but instead his own hubris.

[ami8666]

Erm so I wrote all of this for my homework cuz I don't rlly want to do it so i just wrote like an analysis of Ted and Ellen (for now just them gonna do the rest tomorrow including AM) and here's the translation under the cut idk if it's coreect or not blame google translate chat 🙏and ignore the repetition in some parts

Character is a literary concept denoting the "paper being" that takes part in the actions of an epic or dramatic text;  it exists only within the created fictional universe and has the purpose of indirectly conveying the artistic message and vision of the world and life of its author. 

Ted is the main character of the literary work "I have no mouth and I must scream" by Harlan Ellison, because he actively participates in all moments of the action, and the other characters gravitate around him. He illustrates the writer's conception of a complicated person, whose model is worth following in several aspects.Ted is one of the 5 survivors, and he is trapped in underground, under the control of AM. This story takes place after the third world war

It is characterized directly both by the narrator and by other characters, and the facts, gestures, language and relationships with the other characters are landmarks in the indirect characterization. The physical portrait is barely sketched, the reader's attention drawn to the moral portrait.

The moral portrait is made through his gestures and how he behaves with the other survivors. Ted is a very paranoid person, this shown through his thoughts. He thinks the others hate him because he is the youngest and least affected by AM. These thoughts are caused not only by the traumas from the AM, but also by the AM itself, having the power to enter their thoughts, changing their original personality. At times, he is a very mean man, his trauma and manipulation of AM causing this change in attitude. He speaks ill of Ellen, who is the only female of the five, several times. But despite his words, it's clear that he cares about others, especially Ellen, which is very contradictory considering how he talks about her at times. In one passage, as they walk towards the ice cave, he says, "at least Ellen would be safe". These words show that he puts Ellen's safety above his own. At the end of the book, he kills the others, knowing that death was the only chance to escape AM's hands. After AM turned him into a "big soft jelly thing", he is happy that at least the others are safe and resting, despite the fact that he is condemned to suffer for eternity.

Compared to the other characters in this literary work, Ted is the bravest, killing everyone out of mercy, despite the fact that he knew the consequences would be dire. He is also the most paranoid, rarely trusting anything.

His relationships with the other characters are very interesting. Sometimes he is very close to others, but other times, he thinks they are all after him, saying, "If I didn't have to keep them away all the time, be on guard against them all the time, I would it could have been easier to fight AM". His relationship with Ellen is very complicated. His actions show that it is possible that he is obsessed with her, not that he truly loves her, but only out of desperation for something normal in this hell.

In conclusion, Ted, the protagonist of the literary work "I have no mouth and I must scream" by Harlan Ellison, represents the prototype of the traumatized and paranoid man, who offers a model of behavior worth following in relation to the courage he had at the end of the book. In my opinion, Ted is an interesting character, whose complexity makes the whole story more interesting.We, the readers, see the story through his eyes, and we can understand why he has such a difficult personality.

Character is a literary concept denoting the "paper being" that takes part in the actions of an epic or dramatic text;  it exists only within the created fictional universe and has the purpose of indirectly conveying the artistic message and vision of the world and life of its author. 

Ellen is the main character of the literary work "I have no mouth and I must scream" by Harlan Ellison, because she actively participates in all moments of the action, and the other characters gravitate around her. She illustrates the writer's conception of a gentle person, whose model is worth following.Ellen is one of the 5 survivors, and she is trapped in underground, under the control of AM. This story takes place after the third world war

This is characterized directly both by the narrator and by other characters, and the facts, gestures, language and relationships with the other characters are landmarks in the indirect characterization. The physical portrait is barely sketched, the reader's attention drawn to the moral portrait. The only detail we know about her physical appearance is that her skin is a dark color, "Ellen's face, black on white snow, like dominoes in chalk dust."

The moral portrait is made through his gestures and how he behaves with the other survivors. Ellen is a very gentle and emotional person, this shown through her thoughts. Right from the beginning of the book, she comforts Gorrister, showing her caring personality. When Benny tries to escape from this place, Ellen begins to cry, worried for him, yelling for the others to knock him down. ,,—oh ted, nimdok, please help him, take him down first… he fell silent. Tears began to form in his eyes. He moves his hands aimlessly." When she sees that he is still alive after AM has punished him, she is happy. "but not before catching the relieved expression on Ellen's warm, worried face." When Benny starts drooling, she helps him wipe himself with the hem of her skirt. This gesture shows that he cares a lot about Benny. Ellen has a very contradictory aspect; she is a very fearful person, but when Ted killed them all, she helped him, and she kills Nimdok, after Ted kills her. She often talks about true love, recounting her experiences before the war. These gestures and behavior show that despite the difficult circumstances, she still remained a good and moral person.

Compared to the other characters in this literary work, Ellen is the mildest. She never said anything bad about anyone else and she helps everyone by taking care of everyone.

Her relationships with the other characters are very complicated. Sometimes the others take as much care of her as she does of them, ,,Nimdok and Gorrister carried Ellen for a while, hands tied to their wrists and the other's, a chair.  Benny and I went before and after, just to make sure that if something happened, they'd catch one of us and at least Ellen would be safe," but other times, the others treat her very badly, Gorrister thrusting into her as she began to cry.

In conclusion, Ellen, the protagonist of the literary work "I have no mouth and I must scream" by Harlan Ellison, represents the prototype of the gentle and strong man, who provides a model of behavior worth following. In my opinion, Ellen is a very interesting character , whose kindness can be seen as inspirational due to the fact that she still remains caring despite all the traumas she has suffered from AM.

[sharky857]

"Why yall like Hassian so much?"

The title is a half-quote of a question dropped on Palia Discord, and of course my hands started itching.

Not because the question ticked me off.

It's because that simple question alone set my brain on "I will be brief" mode. And the "will be brief" mode is always, without fail, this one:

WIthout further ado, here's my widdle essay, copy-pasted from the notepad file as it was intended to be shared on that server at some point (so if there's any weird self-censoring like "strong dislike", you already know why).

This is gonna be very much spoiler-y in a lot of points, so if you haven't reached max friendship + romance and/or don't like spoilers in general, pls skip this ramble.

That being said…

Having reached max friendship and also romance with Hassian, I see his being overall "cold" (or "sour", as someone else in game would define it) as some kind of psychological defense/self-preservation mechanism.

When you reach enough friendship with him, he will openly confess/admit that it's not like he doesn't like humans, but he is wary of them. He admits to be like that towards anything new/unknown, and humans are, in fact new/unknown to him. He even has a random dialogue where he actually thank you for giving him a chance to know humans better through your (friendship) bonding.

According to other dialogues, Hassian is also seen playing cards with Auni at the inn, and quite often too, apparently. This is met with mixed reactions from a few of the other locals: Reth makes jokes about it, saying that he always thought that Hassian would come at the inn only to see how other people could disappoint him (or something on that line), Nai'o is straight up worried that Hassian could be a bad influence or something on his little brother, and Sifuu has a more indirect line about it, saying that Hassian has a liking/soft spot for animals and children (which gives her a glimmer of hope that her sone, one day, might settle down and start a family). This is a first clue that Hassian is actually a gentle soul.

In regard of Reth's aforementioned remark, I have this feeling that this might have something to do with the way Chapaa are generally viewed by the locals. Everyone sees them as cute & cuddly & fluffy animals (you even have Tish straight up cooing about them, in one of the Maji market-related dialogues), despite how Chapaa have come to be in the valley and the consequences. Hassian will tell you that the Chapaa are not a natice species, but have been introduced at some point by Kenli, with the intentions of breeding them as pets. But the Chapaa at some other point escaped into the wild, where their population started to grow uncontrollably; the fact that they lacked (and still lack, apparently) natural predators means that Chapaa are now an invasive species that need some sort of "pest control" system. But apparently Kenli has been refusing to take any action of sort in this sense because "but Chapaa cute :(" reasons, while every other villager seems to have a similar line of thought about those critters, leading Hassian to take matters into his hunter-hands. This would explain why Hassian seems to look at everyone in disappointment when he drops by the inn.

Another clue that Hassian is more than meets the eye lies in a random dialogue of Auni, when you reach enough friendship with either that child and/or Hassian; our mail boy will kind of break confidentiality with you and tell you that Hassian always gets romance novels delivered from the library all the times. He also says that they are "very mushy stuff", which confirms that Hassian may be actually quite a sensitive person. This trait of Hassian is also confirmed by other things/dialogues. For starters, he writes poetry (or at least he has tried to, at some point), and you can even see some of those writing by yourself in his grove, upon finding a book with torn pages (he didn't rip them btw, it was some Chapaa's fault). At the beginning of that side quest, Hassian will try to deny the book is his, despite... ye know... his name is right there. And at the end of the quest he will asks you not to mention that book to anyone, because he has "a reputation to uphold".

You can also get some more clues upon finding an abandoned letter in one of the camps in Bahari (somewhere in the northern half, more precisely). That letter will also reveal that Hassian and Tamala had a short-lived affair (that letter is also the ultimate reason why I "strongly dislike" Tamala's guts with a passion, for the records).

Tamala and Hassian's story could be also the reason why Hassian is now even more prone to not let his feelings on. According to what I could grasp about this ordeal, one day Tamala spotted Hassian "snooping around" her house (he was just minding his own business, hunting and also selling some stuff). It is unclear which one aprroached the other first, all we know is that Tamala bought a Sernuk rug from him, then asked him to enter her boudoir (aka: her bedroom), unofficially to ask for his opinion on where it could've been placed. Officially… completely unrelated things happened. Tamala never says what, exactly, but the way she tells that bit leaves very little to one's (naughty-naughty) imagination. And apparently, Hassian instantly fell head over heel for Tamala, but it looks like Tamala never made her intentions clear from the very beginning; the whole time, Hassian probably thought that her intentions were serious, while Tamala was in only for "some fun". It is also implied that Tamala herself may ahve pretty much treated him like her personal "toy boy", while Hassian kept on misinterpreting all that as her way of courting a suitor back, to the point that he presented her his own pin; if you romanced anyone in this game, you know what a big and important step this is considered. This is apparently when Tamala finally decided to dump Hassian; her random dialogues say that she broke with him when he tried to talk about a marriage, while Hassian's dialogue (at the end of his max romance quest) seems to add some more details to that, saying something like "I thought you would've come back to throw my pin in my face". Now: think about what a pin signifies, keep in mind what big deal these pins are, now imagine someone straight up throwing said pin back to the sender's face while telling them to pretty much F off and never come back. That ought to cause some damage on an emotional level. Even Sifuu herself, at some point, confesses with you that she was worried that you would "pull a Tamala" on Hassian (not to mention: Sifuu is still also all set on wanting to kick Tamala's rear, after all these years), but she is also glad that, with you, she had been wrong.

As cherry on top, Hassian might have unprocessed childhood trauma, which might lead him to constantly keep his feelings in check (and being awkward when trying to disclose them) as well. At some point we get to know that he had two moms: Sifuu and Taylin. Hassian was clearly more attached to Taylin than Sifuu, and even after all this time the loss of "momma" still stings real bad to him. When Sifuu made him proof-read her own autobiography, Hassian simply flipped because of what he sees as complete lies on how "mother" and "momma" first met, considering that altered story as an insult to Taylin's memory (whereas Sifuu was only trying to spice things up for artistic reasons). Some time after that thing with the book, when Sifuu asks for his help to clear Taylin's belongings, Hassian do agree that they both needed to finally move on and and also tried to help his mother, but soon he found out he couldn't bring himself to do it.

The loss of Taylin could mean that Hassian is now subconsciously "afraid" to love someone as much as he loved "momma", probably fearing to suffer that same pain all over again. And the ordeal with Tamala might have left him extra wary of disclosing his feelings as well, which would all bring us to his aloof and seemingly cold demeanour in game.

[ode2shay]

COD X DnD Farah and Hadir

I tend to treat Aasimar and Tiefling as the opposite sides of the same coin when I think about them. One born with the intent to gain power and the other with the intent to share it. Tieflings are generally the result of pacts or deals with Devils and dont always affect the person making the deal immediately or even directly.  Promising your future great grandchild that you’ll be dead before meeting is an easy sell for unimaginable magical powers or influence. In my mind, Aasimar are the opposite of that, Celestials reaching out to people in their times of need with the promise that they will go on to help others. This neither condemns or exalts either group, both have agency over their actions and are not bound to anyone else's rule. Tiefling’s simply suffer the indirect consequences of someone else's actions while Aasimar are directly gifted as a result of their own suffering. Lineages can form much easier for Tieflings than Aasimar due to this. The duality of direct and indirect action aside, I think Farah and Hadir would have been given the blessing of Aasimar-hood as a result of their suffering and their drive to protect their people. 

Maybe a young Price witnessed the birth of two younger Aasimar during a raid on a cultists compound, watched their determination and will power alone clear through the swarming dark robes that had threatened to overtake him and his men moments prior. He would learn their names were more than just Commander or Agent Karim, but Farah and Hadir. 2 young kids that had only each other and dream to keep their home safe. Price would leave what supplies he could for them and hope that the siblings' blessing and determination would be enough to keep them alive. It’s easy to forget that blessings are not infallible, and we are all just mortal regardless of how much the gods may favor you. 

Farah had always had a stronger sense of agency than Hadir, she was their Commander for a reason. She led their group of fighters through thick and thin, with every loss she kept them optimistic for tomorrow, and with each win, she kept them mindful of the work yet to come. Yet despite all this, Hadir felt like they weren’t doing enough. They’re people still suffered, and no amount of progress lifted their worry about where their next meal would come from or if they’re young would ever get to grow old. Hadir’s need for action had always burned hotter than Farah’s, it had led him into trouble before, and it's what leads him into making a deal. A deal that took that burning light and turned it freezing dark. (I really liked Hadir’s character/concept and CoD/Activision’s choice to kill him before exploring what a person does when being pushed to the edge was cowardly.)

[hermit-frog]

Hey its not on you because the trial would have happened with or without lestat.

It's not on you because the coven wanted revenge not lestat

Lestat did not contact the coven did not orchestrate the trial

You think he wanted claudia killed or louis to suffer and also possibly killed at the trial then why mourn afterwards? Sociopaths don't close themselves off from the world living in a shack for years mourning the ones they loved and lost. During the trial he looked like he didn't wanna be there and afterwards he was a shell of himself.

Lestat was ashamed the trial went the way it did because his plan was not just to save louis,which he did, but claudia too.

That's why he didn't tell louis I saved you not armand because it's too little too late and he knows it.

He's in the tower where he was tortured because he feels tortured by guilt for claudia. Too little too late yes but to insinuate he is this complete villain who does not love deeply to the point of destruction who cannot be anything but a one dimensional interpretation is a gross mishandling of anne rices work.

People can empathize with the worst of them within the anne rice universe, so they can definitely root for what ultimately is the protagonist of the series.

Also interview with the vampire was meant to present lestat in the worst light possible, but like all actors and writers and showrunners have been saying this is not the real version of the character.

Season 3 will show us who this character truly is.

i will start this by pointing out (what i thought was obvious) that my post is just me basically shaking my bestie Louis back to his senses. i think we all had/have someone like Louis in our life (when it comes to abusive relationships). that feeling of hopelessness when you try to help them without prevail is very frustrating, to the point you want to crawl the walls. the fact that when Louis learns about Armand's involvement, he also realizes that Lestat knew, and yet he still gave Louis to Armand, not saying a word (out of pettiness and different layers of punishment), ...and nevertheless Louis goes straight to Lestat to make amends. kill me, please someone. i'm accepting this scene for Louis and Louis only (even tho this line makes me wanna bash my head against the wall), if he wanted to leave it all behind and go further then so be it😘 but Lestat did not deserve any of that

i am once again repeating myself, my problem with this line is the certain crowd's reaction, plus, how Dre had pointed out (in the the reunion part), the tone of the scene. if you got at least one working brain cell, you will understand that this scene is all about Louis, and who he is, how he reacts, how he acts. it's his closure, him moving forward. still don't like the vibe of that scene

its not on you because the trial would have happened with or without lestat. It's not on you because the coven wanted revenge not lestat Lestat did not contact the coven did not orchestrate the trial

and where have i said that? did you even read my post? or was it the 1st line that had sent you straight into my ask box? deadass had to reread my own post lol

Lestat's internal guilt regarding Claudia might come from the fact that it was an indirect kill, by making them flee from his abuse. consequences of his actions. if you had actually read my post, maybe you'd understand the chain reaction i was talking about. that's why my heart bleeds for Louis when he says “it's not on you”. yes, Louis did bring Claudia home, yes he took part in the damage, but it was Lestat's direct actions that had pushed the events. even if they were a happy family, sooner or later she'd want to probably travel, maybe, okay, sure. but there's no if, this is what we got. happiness is unachievable with Lestat.

you know, whenever i start thinking about Lestat, digging deeper and, potentially, finding him interesting, y'all ruin everything. the worst part about Lestat, as a character, are his “fans”. i can't even call you his fans because the way you talk about him, that's not Lestat. you think i log in to tumblr dot com to shame people for liking Lestat? i'm an Armand enjoyer for fuck's sake. why do you want to make Lestat so dull and one dimensional?

You think he wanted claudia killed or louis to suffer and also possibly killed at the trial then why mourn afterwards? Sociopaths don't close themselves off from the world living in a shack for years mourning the ones they loved and lost. During the trial he looked like he didn't wanna be there and afterwards he was a shell of himself.

again, where have i said he did want them to die on the trial? y'all will make shit up not only about Lestat, but also about other people's posts. truly fascinating. sociopaths? girl, that's a vampire. of course Lestat didn't want to be there, he didn't look presentable enough(((

was Lestat actually mourning Claudia as an individual apart from himself? did he mourn what she could've become? did he mourn Claudia's, lost at the last second, happiness? was Lestat mourning her when he gave Louis to one of Claudia's murderers, who not only had directed the trial, but also suggested that an extremely intimate part of herself would be passed among strangers as an act of violation, humiliation, and disrespect? or was he mourning himself?

Claudia was my dark child, my love, evil of my evil. Claudia broke my heart. And on a warm sultry night in the spring of the year 1860, she rose up to settle the score. She enticed me, she trapped me, and she plunged a knife over and over again into my drugged and poisoned body, until almost every drop of the vampiric blood gushed out of me before my wounds had the precious few seconds in which to heal. I don't blame her. It was the sort of thing I might have done myself. And those delirious moments will never be forgotten by me, never consigned to some unexplored compartment of the mind. It was her cunning and her will that laid me low as surely as the blade that slashed my throat and divided my heart. I will think on those moments every night for as long as I go on, and of the chasm that opened under me, the plunge into mortal death that was nearly mine. Claudia gave me that. Only Claudia had been the exception-my intrepid little Claudia, companion hunter and slayer of random victims- vampire par excellence. And it had been her alluring strength which caused her ultimately to turn upon her maker. Yes, she had been the only one who had been like me really-as they say in this day and age. And that might have been the reason that she was haunting me now. Surely there was some connection to my love of David! And I had failed to see it before. How I loved him; and how deep had been the emptiness when Claudia turned against me, and was my companion no more.

this compels me more, amazing how he connects this to David, but let's not go there:

I was trembling. I was weeping. To be human, I thought. To be human again. I think I said the words aloud. Then a sudden whispered laugh startled me. It was a child somewhere in the darkness, a little girl. I turned around. I was almost certain I could see her-a small gray form darting up the far aisle towards a side altar, and then out of sight. Her footsteps had been barely audible. But surely this was some mistake. No scent. No real presence. Just illusion. Nevertheless I cried out: “Claudia!” And my voice came tumbling back to me in a harsh echo. No one there, of course. I thought of David: “You're going to make another ghastly mistake!” (...) I thought again of her execution-the brick-walled air well, the approaching sun, how small she had been; and then the remembered pain of the Gobi Desert mingled with it and I couldn't bear it any longer. I realized I had folded my arms around my chest, and was trembling, my body rigid, as though being tormented with an electric shock. Ah, but surely she hadn't suffered. Surely it had been instantaneous for one so tender and little. Ashes to ashes...

y'all say how proud Lestat was of Claudia. was he proud when she had escaped, grown, learned, and came back home more independent and mature? was he proud of her books? that she fought and worked out her trauma? was he proud when she became smarter apart from his lessons? was he proud of her relationship with Louis? was he proud when she was learning and growing independently of him? was he proud that she had found love? when she broke the cycle and made her situation work? or was he proud that she had a resemblance to him? that she could and dared to defy him. that she played his game. that she got “stronger” because of him, of what he had done to her, of what he had done to Louis as she has to witness? what was it, a raging narcissist?

i hope that the writers push Ghost Claudia in every single episode, how they did with Lestat in s2. and since you care about her relationship with Lestat so much, i'm sure you will love it. + many, many flashbacks. you know what, double that, why don't we get two Ghost Claudias? from Lestat and Louis. every single episode, especially during loustat scenes. Ghost Claudia criticizing Louis' choices regarding Lestat (ridiculing the french), also representing Louis' guilt. Lestat's Ghost Claudia can point out all of his insecurities, let him project). wait, why don't we also get Armand's Ghost Claudia, i need to see her dragging his pathetic ass (but unfortunately he dgaf about her to be haunted, he was in the books but only because of his experementations. still mourning evil Armand🤞)

Lestat was ashamed the trial went the way it did because his plan was not just to save louis, which he did, but claudia too.

Lestat was trying to save Claudia? When? He didn't even apologize to her. Lestat went off script so many times, had the energy to teleport, and yet... crickets when it came to Claudia. where was his “enthusiasm”? She was right there when he was apologizing to Louis. Lestat knew what was coming, but he didn't even try. Just stood there and watched. yeah, sure, he felt it emotionally, oh boo boo(((, and as her maker. but he didn't try.

That's why he didn't tell louis I saved you not armand because it's too little too late and he knows it.

to say it was a very serious information to withhold is an understatement. Lestat gives!!! Louis to Armand (the big bad), like he's a freaking sack of potatoes. Lestat doesn't even questions his ownership over Louis, amazing. enjoy him, as he looks at Armand... I knew you'd figure it out, yeah, fuck that. classic.

He's in the tower where he was tortured because he feels tortured by guilt for claudia. Too little too late yes but to insinuate he is this complete villain who does not love deeply to the point of destruction who cannot be anything but a one dimensional interpretation is a gross mishandling of anne rices work.

yeah, and water is wet. already spoke about him mourning himself, i mean Claudia ops lol, above, nothing to add. who the hell is saying that he's the complete villain? are you watching marvel? y'all are the ones who try to paint him as a hero, which, ironically, makes him hella boring. “gross mishandling of anne rices work” please say sike, please.

Also interview with the vampire was meant to present lestat in the worst light possible, but like all actors and writers and showrunners have been saying this is not the real version of the character.

yeah, i can already hear Sam knocking on my door (i have only seen Sam to repeat that like mantra tbh, but then again i don't read/watch everything). you know, Lestat is terrible even in his own pov, so i can't even imagine the reality of that man lol

i am once again asking you guys this, when was the last time you have re-read tvl and the following books? Because he's just as abusive and insufferable, even from his own point of view (take a shot every time Lestat hits someone. not to mention his other “questionable” behavior)

you won't read any of this shit, anyway, peace and love ✌😉

[lu-sn]

so i've been thinking about vegaspete, and kinnporsche, and the parallels of abusive behavior for these two pairings.

cw: discussions of emotional, physical and generational abuse

both pairs start with one person in significant power over the other. kinn has just strongarmed porsche into becoming his employee, and vegas has imprisoned pete. they both then follow a remarkably similar set of events.

kinn and vegas force porsche (ep2-3) and pete (ep10-11) respectively through a combination of both physical and emotional abuse. this abuse is expected given the power dynamic.

kinn and vegas start to treat porsche (ep3-4) and pete (ep11-12) differently than they should be treating them. nicer, if you will.

kinn and vegas have a sexual encounter with porsche (ep4) and pete (ep12) respectively.

kinn and vegas enact physical and emotional abuse on porsche (ep5) and pete (ep13) again, after an ill-fated encounter with each of their fathers. however, the abuse hurts porsche and pete much deeper than before, not just because of the sexual encounter, but because of the emotional bond that served as a foundation for said encounter.

porsche and pete cannot bear it, and they leave kinn (ep5) and vegas (ep13).

kinn and vegas go looking for porsche (ep5) and pete (ep13) to apologize.

kinn (ep6) and vegas (ep14) apologize again, with more gravity.

kinn and vegas tell porsche (ep6) and pete (ep14) that they can and should leave.

the details vary. kinn tends more towards direct emotional abuse (telling porsche he's being treated just like everyone else / like nothing, demoting him and trading him away) and indirect physical abuse (punishing him via the bodyguard system). vegas is inflicting all kinds of abuse on pete, all by his own hands. but at their cores, the journeys look EXTREMELY similar.

and then, of course, they diverge.

at its heart, the vegaspete storyline in s1 is about the cycles of abuse, and what it means to break free of them. gun inflicts abuse on vegas, vegas turns around and inflicts it on pete. pete does not stand for this and leaves, which leads to vegas refusing to perpetuate his part of the cycle, thereby allowing pete to stay free -- but vegas is still trapped in the cycle by gun.

then gun gets killed.

through almost no action of his own, vegas is free. pete sees this, and understands what it means, whether consciously or subconsciously: pete can return to vegas. and pete can now trust fully that vegas will treat him well, since vegas is not trapped himself. pete won't have to be constantly looking over his shoulder for the next time gun sets vegas off.

vegas is so fucking lucky that he didn't have to break out of the cycle himself. if gun had continued to live, perhaps in a world where there was no coup, vegas could not have had both gun and pete. he would have had to choose, and choosing pete would have meant dethroning his father. fighting back against your abuser, when they are also your parent? an insurmountable task. suffice to say, it would have been terrible for vegas.

but, for better or for worse, korn took care of that for him. and now the vegaspete arc has reached its resolution. they've broken free. they can start healing.

kinn... kinn is very much not free.

and we kind of see the consequences of that through the latter half of the show. kinn loves porsche. i don't think there's any doubt about that. but that love doesn't stop kinn from occasionally treating porsche very poorly. he doesn't tell porsche anything about tawan, and porsche tries to do his best with the information he has -- and when it backfires horrendously, kinn asks porsche to apologize without taking any blame for himself.

i would consider this emotional abuse. and maybe you would disagree, but there's another very similar incident in the show that i think firmly counts as emotional abuse: korn lying to kinn about his death.

kinn thinks his dad is dead, and then days later his uncle comes to attack. kinn tries his level best to push through his grief and defend his household with little to no help. and after a terrifyingly high body count, kinn runs into a hidden room, and his dad is there, and his dad is alive, and his dad says nothing to him.

not a single acknowledgement of the fake death, let alone an apology. no blame assigned to korn. just kinn, alone, reeling from the fallout of his dad having lied to him in the most cruel way possible.

and why doesn't kinn protest this? well, for one, it's his dad. see previous statement about that kind of thing being extremely difficult. but two, and this is much worse, kinn probably believes that his dad was in the right. he's fallen for it, hook line and sinker. it was okay for korn to not trust him, to use him as a means to an end -- because korn is in charge, and korn knows what's right.

and this is the exact abuse kinn perpetuates to porsche for the tawan incident. he expects porsche to step in line. he doesn't think porsche is in the right to ask for mutual trust, because misplaced trust ruins plans. kinn is in charge, and kinn knows what's right.

cycles of abuse. over and over. and again, if gun had stayed alive, vegas may very well have been stuck in a similar position.

but here's another difference between the two couples, and i think it matters tremendously. pete left, and pete didn't come back until gun was dead. vegas might not have been free, but at least pete had escaped from the line of fire.

porsche left, and came back, and put himself right back into the cycle he had originally tried to run away from.

this is very much not good for porsche. kinn will continue to perpetuate the abuse korn inflicts on him, in between showering porsche with love. and it's going to really fuck with porsche, just like it did in ep5. the only options that could make porsche's life abuse-free are if he decides to walk away, or if korn dies. and korn is much, much harder to kill.

i don't think the kinnporsche storyline in s1 is necessarily about the cycles of abuse the same way it is for vegaspete. both kinn and porsche start the season ensnared separately, and they end it ensnared together. the kinnporsche arc in s1 is more about love and corruption.

but in order for porsche to be happy -- truly happy, he's going to have to break the cycle he's trapped in. and if he tries it, he'll be forcing kinn's hand. kinn will have to choose between korn and porsche.

and it's a choice kinn's not going to want to make.

[prodigiousvisions]

ALLEGED Navia voice line spoilers and a brief discussion on why I cannot abide by that regarding a certain Fontainian.

(alleged leak) - ABOUT WRIOTHESLEY: "Getting a conversation going with him is quite a challenge. Clorinde mentioned that you can work with him based on established contracts, but you should never trust every word he says. It's no wonder my dad never got involved in underwater matters before. To be on the safe side, it's best to keep things as they are."

(reverse and canon, just for comparison) - ABOUT NAVIA: "The Fortress of Meropide works with Spina di Rosula on some matters regarding supplies and logistics, but we don't have any other dealings. This isn't because I don't trust Navia or her abilities, in fact, I hold her in quite high regard. The only reason we continue to stay out of each other's way is because I wanna honor the agreement I made with the late Mr. Callas."

-

Now that's out of the way: A discussion on my perception of Navia as a character. Every motivation and call to action she has in the main storyline as well as her own questline is centered around her own rock-solid perception of justice, philanthropy, and willingness to throw herself in the face of danger if she feels that it will get her the answer she wants; regardless of her own burdens that hang over her head. She disrupts the peace of the opera house not once, but twice, lacking a care in the world about the consequences that may stem from it to correct and lend her own assistance in procuring righteous evidence to prove a guilty person (people) innocent. Navia directly engages with Neuvillette and Clorinde, despite their ties in having an indirect hand to her father's death. It may not be a nice interaction, but each time, she does not shy away from them or turn them away. She demands answers and for them to hear her. It is those two that pull away from their own reservations, and frankly, that only makes her more angry. When the circumstances is better, she is cordial and amiable to the two, extending out an olive branch with Clorinde to clear the air, as well as the talk that needs really no further inspection between her and Neuvillette at her father's grave. To emphasize: these are two people who are very woven into the history of her hero's journey and the fall of Callas (by his own decision). So why is Wriothesley, someone who is comparatively less significant and less worth what would otherwise be justified avoidance, suddenly an exception to this? That is not to say Wriothesley isn't someone who can't emit that intimidation factor and aura, but that hasn't exactly deterred her in any other scenario we've seen her involved in? Not to mention, Wriothesley literally says they have their own dealings that involve cooperation with each other. It may not be the most personable, but it's enough to be some substance to get on as acquaintances. It's enough foundation that when they do inevitably interact she will be bound to have suspicion rise as his own deterrence from her, and demand an answer as to why. To me, this only acts as yet another driving answer to push and prod. In fact, Lynette even has her own voice line about her that makes me feel as if it substantiates my feelings on this! To quote: "Though she's the new president of Spina di Rosula, her style is more like the nosy big sister next door." Nosy big sister. Often connotatively those who get in others' business and involve themselves in their siblings' affairs if they feel like they should. Unafraid, self-assured, curious and caring. Loud, annoying. Never one to slink to the sidelines if they think trouble is near.

No, they run toward it. And so she, too, will run toward Wriothesley and demand her five minutes of proper regard.

[theflyindutchwoman]

To mess or not to mess with Chenford… Grey's edition

So was Grey messing with Tim and Lucy in that video clip? That is the million dollar question. Here's the thing. As watch commander, if Grey saw any hint of impropriety, he has to act on it. Regardless of his feelings on that matter. The only leeway he has, is how he choses to go at it (and that's a short leeway). Now he is quite perceptive so it's hard to imagine him having no clue about Tim and Lucy. He knows they are close. No question about it. I mean, that was the reason he suggested Lucy as Tim's aide in the first place. Note that it was a professional advice though, not a personal one. Now does he know they are about to start dating… Hard to say. Tim and Lucy's awkwardness when he told her to go back on aide-duty was so loud, he couldn't ignore it. But if he thought they were involved in any way, he would not have had them ride together either. However, he might have come to the conclusion that it was now only a matter of time.

And that's the thing. He can't ask them directly if they're dating because it puts them all in an awkward position : . Either they fess up : he has to take action, meaning removing one out of that chain of command and that might be hard if there's no opening in the department for either one (for TV purposes, Tim & Lucy need to stay in Mid-Wilshire). That's where Tim's future promotion could play a role here. Lucy is stuck in patrol for the foreseeable future (she still needs at least 1 more year before she can move out). Tim could get more opportunities as long as a position opens up. . Either they deny it : it could later be construed as a lie and... not good. So I could see Grey use the potential situation with Celina and Aaron as an indirect warning to them, a preventive step to remind them the rules, without asking directly (or making things more awkward if he misread the situation). Like many have already said, Aaron and Celina have never riden together, unlike a certain couple… Which would seem to indicate he is referring to Lucy & Tim.

Now maybe he's truly messing with them and there's no Aaron x Celina, it's just his way of saying they are busted… And play a prank on them as payback for the times he had to be involved in their shenanigans. But I doubt he would just gloss over the issue at hand. At least, I hope not. What he said in the sneak peek remains true. Power dynamics in the work place is not a laughing matter. It has serious implications and consequences. Not to mention as Lucy's superior officer, in her direct chain of command, Tim could face demotion or worse. There was a reason he did list it as a roadblock to Angela. I sincerely doubt the show would use that issue as a mere comedic ploy. But if Grey is messing with them, then that means he is aware and support them. In which case I still hope we'll see them have a serious talk about all the pitfalls laying ahead. And make sure there was no issue before either (again, those rules are there for a reason). I would love for him to support them and help them navigate these new waters, so that they can come on the other side unscathed.

If there's really a Celina x Aaron, and Grey truly has no clue about Chenford, then I can understand why Grey would rather involve Lucy than Nolan. For one, he might assume that this conversation would be better suited if coming from another female officer. Especially one like Lucy who can break it to her quite gently and doesn't work directly with her on the daily. It was already hard on Lucy when Talia talked to her about Nolan… Imagine if it had been Tim (although good luck with that one considering Isabel). He can also see Lucy as an example for how to be close to a superior officer without crossing the line. Which would be so ironic. Second, with Lucy, it stays on an informal level. Involving her TO might make it seem too official. There's the chance that it could color John's perception of Celina or make things awkward between them. Not something he'd want to risk when they're still learning the ropes of being a TO/a police officer. Of course, there's a certain irony that Nolan would perfectly understand the situation. And he is close to his rookie, I just don't think that Grey knows the full extent to it. Also… If Tim has to talk to Aaron, that'd be hilarious… He'd have to be very careful about what he says. Especially if/when Aaron finds out about Chenford. Call out #2 coming up?

In either case.. Just a couple of more days before we get more insights on where Season 5B is going!