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dent-de-leon · 2 months

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The sea always welcomes him. Sunlight dapples soft cresting waves, the last rays of dawn dashed upon the jagged rocks and burning shores. He can just catch the faint shimmer of scintillating scales deep beneath the murky waters. Frilled dorsal fins breaking tide, barely skimming the surface.

Kingsley hangs onto the railing and leans over the edge. He always did like to peer too far into the deep, straining to gaze past the bleeding red tide on a Ruidus flare night. The Eyes were red too. Nine of them. Always staring, ever watching, gawking back at him in unblinking silence, phantom mirages of a red moon haze. The sight of those ghastly crimson eyes stirs something in his once dead heart, a voracious hunger from long ago. The numbing ache of all consuming Emptiness.

He hears whispers. Snatches of slithering words, an otherworldly hiss in some primal, ancient tongue from when the gods still walked this world.

Gustav’s caravan was a dazzling array of color in the bleak, dreary isles of Darktow. Peeling paint of silver moons and golden stars, tinkling little crystals and curious baubles dangling from the roof, all clattering together in a lilting chime. And he always kept the swaying lantern lit, even on nights when Kingsley was far from home. Even when there was hardly any oil left to burn. (The whalers don’t come to Darktow anymore, Desmond says. “They’re all dead, hunted down just like the whales,” someone who looked not quite like Desmond said.)

“I made a deal with the devil,” he joked once, with a wry grin that was far too grim.

Kingsley passes a handful of gold coins to Gustav over drinks, and his showman’s smile wavers in the harsh firelight.

“Where’d you get all that, lad?”

“You know, here and there. Been shipping crates for Fjord. Go up to that wizard for trade some nights. The money’s been good, enough to get by. Might even be able to buy a real ship soon.”

He doesn't mention the shadows that stalk Fjord's ship, the crates of cargo that vanish on moonless nights at high tide, swallowed by the starving sea. They always lose something, that shipping company. A crate of unmarked cargo. The first mate's ring. And on the last miserable job, one of King's very own tarot cards--not that the card itself was stolen, no. It was wiped clean, as though it had never been touched by ink. What was once the image of a smiling woman, her face beaming under the moonlight, warm and playful. Never to be seen again. The only remnant of her left was an empty title, the scrawling script in his own hand. The Maiden.

No matter how long he stared at the empty card, he could no longer remember her face.

He doesn't speak of the Hunger in the captain's eyes, or the temple lying forgotten in the depths.

Gustav’s keen stare makes his skin crawl—far too much like that damn wizard. The face of someone who knows you better than yourself, who can pick out a lie and pry it apart like a fish flayed alive.

“You shouldn’t waste all your money on another man’s debts," he says, inflection cold and empty.

“We’re circus folk, and we stay together. Remember? You taught me that.”

The haggard ringmaster reluctantly pockets his coin. And when King slips a bit more into his coat before bed, he mercifully doesn’t say a word.

Kingsley sets off again at dawn, sailing back toward the one beacon he's drawn to again and again.

The Magician is beautiful. Kingsley was struck by those eyes from the moment they met—bright blue as the Lucidian Sea, lovely enough for the fairest merfolk to envy. His voice a soft, lilting calm of midmorning tide and warbling shallows, heartbreakingly gentle and trusting.

The wizard’s tower is a phantom, a trick of the fog. It only appears on certain nights, emerging from the mists like a passing ship on the horizon. There one minute, vanishing into endless dark sea the next, swallowed up by the crash of void black waves. (There’s night, there’s darkness. And then there’s the vast emptiness of eternal abyss, when you set sail at the witching hour. It’s different, that hungry, pitch black nothingness. Darker, deeper; an all consuming, oppressive presence that blankets the whole world in suffocating silence. If you let the lights go out, there’s nothing. Just…nothing. Just you. Alone in the dark with whatever lurks beneath.)

The wizard is always waiting when he drops anchor and tosses his rope to the dock. Caleb keeps the lanterns lit for him from dusk til dawn. A copper kettle whistling beside an ancient cauldron, luxurious blankets and a warm bed.

Kingsley remembers his first time stumbling upon the phantom manor, crashing into the dock amidst roaring thunder and torrential rain, a dead man washed ashore until the wizard found him.

“Your vessel is in no condition to travel like this, and the storm will not let up for hours yet. I…I know I am a stranger to you, but. Please, stay for the night in my tower. I have plenty of room to spare, and…I swear it is far safer than taking your chances at sea.”

“You’d let me wait out the storm for the night? What’s the catch?”

“Nein. I don’t require any repayment, just—I have watched many foolish sailors perish on these waters, and I would rather not see you die on my watch.”

Caleb waits for him at the edge of the water, a hand ready to haul him to shore, globules of light floating out to sea, flickering softly.

“Kept you waiting, did I?” King quips with a crooked grin, taking the hand at once.

Even with his darkvision, he can't quite see the wizard flush. But it's an easy enough thing to imagine.

“Well? What did you bring me?”

“I...found a book,” King says.

Dark leather, decrepit pages. Bloodied, torn apart journal entries, chronicling a life lost at sea. Drawings of those nine red eyes, over and over, their omniscient, all seeing gaze boring into him night after night.

His skin crawls, itching and burning beneath the black leather gloves he never takes off. He hasn't let the Magician see the Eyes that brand his own skin. Not yet. It felt like revealing that would be...some kind of betrayal. Like the man with such gentle, haunted eyes would break if he knew the kind of person Kingsley really was. That some monster had walked in his skin before--and he himself had invited them in.

At the mention of that damned book, Caleb remains carefully neutral. Though King swears his eyebrows raise just a bit. How rare, to see his interest truly piqued. A spark of desire beyond the usual amusement at little baubles and trinkets.

“Oh? Well, there are many curiosities that get swept out to sea.”

"You'll buy it, right?" Moonweaver, he just wants to wash his hands of the damn thing.

"Of course. Name your price--I assume it isn't coin."

"You know me. I want something a little more interesting," Kingsley purrs, tail arching in a lax curl.

A story, a song--and once, a stolen kiss, the wizard beaming as Kingsley pulled him in.

He remembers, faintly, the echos of a half forgotten dream. A deal with the witch, the fierce hunger in her eyes as she reached for her prize, a relic lost to the ages, begging to be reclaimed. A whispered promise between the soft rustle of turning pages, the allure of power beyond his wildest imagining, the stolen paradise that lies within eternal dreams.

#wrote most of this back when i first started playing dredge--so?? its a kind of widomaukery au for that? I guess??#I like the thought of king bringing his magician shiny little magical trinkets and incredibly cursed artifacts he finds at sea--especially #since vess mentioned that lucien has a kind of sixth sense for powerful magical relics and cant help being drawn to them #feels like king could get in a lot of trouble from that I think--#but powerful wizards with magic towers are definitely a safe place to store your cursed artifacts #and I feel like caleb likes to keep an eye on him and make sure that he doesnt get hurt if hes ever tempted to play with fire again #this feels more silly than fun spooky vibes to me but I still kinda like some of it so i am dropping it here in case I ever decide to #finish it adskfdg

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polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup · 5 months

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the higher-ups (and Yaga) immediately trying to leverage Gojo & Ieri's absence to put Yuuta on the roster??? God that's such a stark moment. Thank god Nanami and Gojo saw through that one immediately, because Yuuta wants to justify his own survival so badly he would've fallen straight into it.

That whole scene, with Yuuta immediately jumping on the opportunity to help people even though something is Extremely Wrong with him and he's on the brink of physical collapse--this boy is selfless to the point of self destruction and I am chewing the drywall about it. I love him so much.

If only he was able to summon his newly found homicidal rage in defense of himself, the higher-ups would no longer be a problem. Alas, this boy is Extremely Unwell.

(Sea Glass Gardens is absolutely incredible and i am obsessed with it in a way that is totally and 100% normal. I'm so normal about it, trust me <3 )

The thing about Yuuta is that he really is prime to be taken advantage of right now and the higher ups know it. They had him try to kill himself for them--they know that there's a window of opportunity that they can use to get him under their thumb and avoid The Problem of Gojo, which is, namely, having a human weapon who you cannot fully control. Gojo nailed it from the beginning: they want a magic gatling gun with no personality or free will. They learned their lesson with Gojo and are trying to rob Yuuta of his agency before he learns how to protect himself.

And Yaga's part in that scene really was meant to kind of emphasize how, even with the best intention's, he just doesn't work to protect the kids. Like. everything he said was technically true, and he meant it with the best of intentions. He's the guy who has to think of everyone's needs. he has to manage this crisis. he's got a lot of people hurt badly who just came out of a war, and a lot of people going into fights with some very aggravated curses spawning without sufficient manpower to address the danger and no healer to save them if they cut it a little too close. He didn't have the intention of manipulating or sacrificing Yuuta, but he was aware that it would come to his detriment and risk.

The issue is the higher ups. They don't give a shit about the people in their workforce. They should be the ones doing whatever it takes to solve this crisis and save their people--and if that means giving up on their machinations? They should have already done it. It's their responsibility.

They just don't care. They want Okkotsu Yuuta under their thumb, and their society hemorrhaging is treated like an opportunity, not a dire problem to be solved. They don't care if half a dozen of their own people need to die to do it. Hell, it's better if they do die--they can put it straight on Okkotsu for not being willing to sacrifice himself, when they should have been making whatever promises they had to in order to make this work.

Gojo's done this before, is the thing. He was Yuuta, a long time ago. Nanami was right there watching it happen. They both know what the higher ups do: They let society get to a crisis level and put all the responsibility on you to save it. they let you maneuver yourself into a vulnerable position as a result, and then they use it as leverage to put their goddamn boot on your neck.

The thing is that Gojo adopting megumi all those years ago really did put them into a crisis state. the zenin pitched the mother of all bitch fits trying to secure his unconditional return, and they were a huge percentage of jujutsu society's labor force and resource pools. instead of the higher ups managing the problem at all, they took advantage of the situation and shoved more and more of its weight and responsibility onto gojo, until he was dropping off his own kid at his abusers' compound thinking it was the only compromise that could resolve things. megumi paid the price for gojo not calling bullshit, and right now, with him in a hospital bed? gojo's less willing to repeat mistakes than ever.

he knows that they're going to use the safety and suffering of everyone else as the leverage against him, and he knows that as terrible as it is, he cannot blink first. He's played this game before, and he knows that the only way to get the higher ups to back off on something like this is to dig in your heels.

I think what happened to Megumi all those years ago and how bad it got before they put a stop to it is something that haunts all three of them. When they first started raising him, they were very young, and they were very broken, and they loved him very, very much. He was their little boy, and he was never the same after the Zenin. They were supposed to protect him, and they didn't, and not a single one of them has forgiven themselves for that.

Megumi was sort of sacrificed for the greater good when he was a kid. None of them thought that that was what they were doing when it happened, but that's what happened. His happiness, safety, and wellbeing were sacrificed to pacify the Zenin and make it easier on everyone else.

Megumi and Tsumiki had to become their non-negotiables after. They had to become the things they refused to compromise on. The Zenin would take miles and miles if you gave them a millimeter, let alone an inch.

Gojo didn't think he was compromising them when he left them on their own to deal with Geto's war. They were disgustingly self-sufficient kids. They had been alone for longer stretches of time when they were practically toddlers--they should have been fine on their own for a couple of weeks.

But they were still his kids, and he still left them alone for everyone else's sake, and now his kid is blind and half dead in a hospital bed. It's like being punched in the face by old mistakes.

So they're off the roster completely, all of them. And they're not compromising an inch on what their focus is, and they're not letting anything happen to any of the other kids in their care.

It's terrible that their coworkers are suffering, but it wouldn't be happening if the Zenin hadn't fucked with Gojo Satoru's kid, of all the goddamn people. It wouldn't be happening if the higher ups would actually do their job and start managing shit.

And if they use Yuuta as an anxiety riddled bandaid on the bullet hole in their society? Then they'd be sacrificing him the way they sacrificed Megumi all those years ago. And they have never been less willing to do that.

I'm so so glad you like the story! Thank you for talking with me!

#i think gojo has such a big emphasis on giving kids the tools to protect themselves because no one ever did that for him or geto #geto snapped under the pressure and was lost to gojo forever #Gojo repeatedly focuses on giving the kids the tools to enjoy their childhood without being hurt #like with yuuji--he doesn't want him to sacrifice his youth and happiness with the others #so he focuses on giving him the strength to protect himself when gojo isn't there #in my mind that's also why gojo was always trying to feed yuuji the fingers #like when i first started the series it seemed kind of weird to me because gojo very obviously didn't want yuuji dead #until i realized that yuuji canonically had a good chance at suppressing sukuna even at 20 fingers as long as he had them spaced out #if yuuji had sukunas power level and had gotten it in increments eventually the higher ups couldnt touch him and hed still be under control #honestly none of the adults are doing well right now #a little under a decade ago the issue with the zenin came to a head and megumi ended up being very small and very hurt in a hospital bed #and they promised him that it would never happen again #now he looks very small and very hurt and he's in a hospital bed and the zenin put him there #as much as he's an angry teenager who hates displays affection he really is their little boy and they adore him #nanami was the one who took him from the zenin the final time all those years ago and he personally promised megumi that he would never eve #go back to that place. he feels like a complete failure right now.#gojo always blamed himself for not digging in his heels and refusing the custody compromise and now he's FURIOUS that this happened under #his nose a second time. i think gojos really interesting in the hero role because he's canonically low empathy and struggles with homicidal #impulses and let me tell you he thought about just killing all the zenin back then and he's REALLY thinking about it right now. there's one #fucking way of making sure this never happens again.#shoko generally feels like shit because this is supposed to be the one thing she can do to help and she /can't/ do it right now to help #megumi. also she privately thinks she had the most opportunity to realize how bad it was with the zenin back then and /didn't/.#she was going through a lot of her own issues back then and the zenin had some kind of believable excuses for why megumi was always banged #up. like. he was already getting into fights at school. its not like the zenin had issues procreating. they said he was picking fights #with other kids and that's where he got hurt. they actually blamed maki more than once. and some bruises here and there is expected for a #kid in combat training even at what was meant to be a very preliminary level. he was supposed to be in like. kiddie karate classes and they #didn't realize the zenin were training him like a fucking marine. it was SO obvious in hindsight and that tortures them.#protecting yuuta right now kind of feels like a chance to get it right the first time and all of them need that now that they feel like the #fucked it up with megumi a second time #sea glass gardens

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