#i'm too lazy to write an actual story so take this instead

[just-jordie-things]

let the light in - ryomen sukuna

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 10k follower event special! ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

word count: 15.5k warnings: mentions of fighting and injuries, reader has a cursed technique but i don't describe it bc i'm lazy, she's actually pretty weak in this ngl i needed her to be a bit of a damsel in distress. sukuna is pretty out of character but he has to be. also sukuna can take control of yuji's body when he's asleep bc i decided so ok it's my first time writing for him so bare with me. summary: reincarnation!au with a twist. in every life sukuna finds you in, he has to remind you of who you once were- and who you once were to each other. it's a burden, but it's one he's carried for centuries and he wouldn't have it any other way. more info: slowburn enemies to ?? to lovers, sukuna is hopelessly in love with reader its very fun ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ ooh let the light in // at your back door yelling cause i wanna come in // ooh turn your light on // look at us, you and i back at it again ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Finding her in this life was the first thing on his mind as soon as his consciousness was manifested.  Just like every era before this one, she’s always his first thought.

The second thought was- what the fuck? 

In all of his centuries walking this earth, he’d never been quite out of body like this.  As in, in a completely different body from his own.  And much to his displeasure, he’d manifested inside of some brat jujutsu sorcerer that was a bit too strong for his own good.  No worries, though, after they tracked down a few more of his cursed fingers he’d be able to take proper control and Itadori Yuji would cease to exist as soon as Sukuna regained his full strength.

So for some time, he played nice.  Or, as nice as he could, that was.  He sat back in his domain and waited.  He’d never been one with a strong sense of patience- he may have been a man once but he was a curse now- but if it meant strengthening his chances in being reunited with her sooner, then he would play the long game.  Besides, he could have some fun torturing the brat and his friends for a little while, right? No harm in some chaos and carnage along the way.  He would need good stories to tell her when they were together again, anyways.

There were times where the brat began to wonder what it was Sukuna was doing there, quietly tucked into his domain.  On the rare occasion that he didn’t rear his head into conversation with a nasty comment coming from a mouth materialized on his cheek or the back of his hand.  Times passed where Yuji would cringe awaiting Sukuna’s inevitable filth, but instead he was gifted with silence from the curse inhabiting him.  The young sorcerer could only assume that this meant he was doing something else- but what? What could he possibly occupy himself with while trapped in his own domain? Some days Yuji worried he was plotting something, but others he wondered if the King of Curses was just lost in thought.  Did he daydream?

Sukuna wouldn’t call it that, but if anyone were able to catch him in the act, they’d know it was exactly that.  All he could do with his time is imagine how he’d reunite with her in this life.  It was one of his favorite parts of each new century or so, and after hundreds of lifetimes, there were plenty of memories to keep himself occupied with.

This time he knew he’d have to outdo himself, seeing as he was in an unfamiliar body, and he could only hope that she liked this one as much as the last.  Perhaps the next time he took control of it he’d make sure everything was up to standard- he couldn’t have her rejecting him just because he was in some brat’s body this time.  On the other hand, he knew her to be more playful and experimental than he was, so maybe she’d find a change in host exciting.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

To his delight, Sukuna is reunited with the great love of his life sooner than expected.  To his great displeasure, it’s at exactly the wrong time.

He’d been irritated enough having his brat vessel tap out just because he couldn’t take on a measly little Special Grade.  Of course, he wasn’t about to appease some righteous jujutsu sorcerer’s agenda by exorcizing the curse himself.  But in the end, the curse disappointed him too, thinking that it could pick a fight with the King of Curses and come out of it alive.

Pride outweighed vengeance, and he found himself entertained with playing with the Special Grade.  Playing, because of course it’s abilities were weak compared to real jujutsu, unlike the childish display the brat had put up first.

He’s so drawn in by his play fight with the curse that he’d completely missed her- that is until he’s using his Domain Expansion, and from the corner of one of his eyes he finally notices.

While it’s a shock that he’s managed to let the great love of his life go unnoticed, she isn’t exactly… conscious.

The special grade is sliced diced and forgotten, barely even a blip in Sukuna’s memory now once he recognizes the slumped over body on a pile of rubble a few hundred feet away.  He’s delighted, ecstatic even.  The bloodthirsty grin on his face is replaced by a beam of pure thrill.  He’d previously thought it might take years to find her in this life, so to stumble across her now, after getting control of this body over a mere pest, was a real treat.

He approaches her limp body so quickly he’s practically teleported to her, and his beam begins to falter as he takes in her current state.

It’s not a matter of worry that she’s fairly beat up and knocked unconscious so hard there’s soft snores between heavy breaths, her mortal body working overtime to keep her alive at all- it was nothing a quick use of his Reverse Cursed Technique couldn’t fix.

The wince of disgust that contorts his features is directed solely at her attire.  

Crisp black button up torn open to reveal the same shade of undershirt snugly fitting her underneath, paired with pants of the same material.  He didn’t need to see the crest at the collar of her shirt to give him further context as to what she was up to in this century.

“Of course,” He utters through his snarl as he crouches down towards her, hands glowing as he promptly heals her wounds.  She doesn’t awaken, her body growing even more exhausted after being put through the technique, but her muscles do appear to relax as she slumps further into the dirty ground.  “You would be a sorcerer in this lifetime.  Idiot,” 

The cruel name falls from his lips with nothing but melted affection.  No other person on this earth would be allowed to hear him speak this way and live to tell the tale.  It was reserved only for her- and she wasn’t even awake to hear it now.

With steady hands Sukuna gathers her in his arms, trying to bend her into a more comfortable position.  She doesn’t wince or complain when bruised limbs drag across broken slabs of concrete.  If he wasn’t able to hear the steady beat of her heart, she would have easily been mistaken for dead already.

“A shitty reunion this time around, I’m afraid,” 

Sukuna sighs before he sits fully on the ground.  He’s not sure how much longer he’d be in control of this body, but any thoughts of fleeing to bring as much destruction to Tokyo is far from his mind.  He wants nothing more than to sit here with his lover and hope that she’d wake back up before he’s dragged back into his domain.

With one arm wrapped under her shoulders to keep her limp body closely tucked to him, his free hand brushes the messy strands of hair away from her resting face.  She looks peaceful, even though when she wakes she’d still carry the aches of her healed injuries.  The tips of his fingers linger over her soft cheek as he admires her.

“Just as beautiful in this life as you were in every one before it, my love,” He murmurs, so quiet that even if she were conscious enough to hear it, she probably wouldn’t have.

He only gets a few moments of peace with her before he can feel a stir from inside of him, and he can faintly make out Yuji gaining his consciousness back.  He snarls in his aggravation, wishing he could knock the brat out so he could get just a little more time with his long lost love, even if she wasn’t her usual lively self.

“Come, we have things to do” He tells her, before he pulls her closer and lifts her up.  

He makes his way out of the destroyed building with leisure, knowing that the other sorcerer, Fushiguro, would be waiting outside for a fight.  It wasn’t in his plans to end the kid’s life just yet, but with the reunion of his one true love coming prematurely, things might have to change.  Oh well, he was flexible.

She fusses in his arms upon the lift, but even with her pinching brows and twitching eyelids, she never quite wakes up.  Which was alright, they would have plenty of time to properly catch up in a bit.  Sukuna had other things to handle first.

It would be some time still before she properly met the King of Curses face to face- in this life anyways- as shortly after his departure of the ruined building, he would have to set her aside to take care of a few of the weaker level shikigamis that the Fushiguro kid sent his way.  After ripping the brat’s heart out of their shared chest, it would be a few weeks before things seemingly transitioned back to normal.

When (y/n) would finally come to in the infirmary a few hours after it all went down, Megumi would relay how the King of Curses had carried her out in his arms.  She’d give him a bitter laugh, thinking he was trying to lighten the mood after the news of the death of their friend.  But Megumi wasn’t usually very good at telling jokes, and after seeing his grave expression stay put, her face would fall.

“You’re serious?” 

Megumi nods, the thin line of his lips unwavering.

(y/n) blinks a few times as she processes it slowly.  She’s still not sure that she believes him, but she doesn’t have a reason not to either.  If Gojo had told her this she’d have rolled her eyes, and maybe called him insensitive and unserious, but why would Megumi make something like that up? 

“I don’t understand,” She tells him with a furrowed brow, and the way Megumi shrugs one shoulder unenthusiastically tells her he didn’t understand it any better than she did.  “You’re telling me he saved me?” 

“Maybe, I don’t know,” Megumi replies dryly.  He should’ve known she’d ask him questions he clearly didn’t have the answers for, so he tried to provide her with what he did know so that maybe she wouldn’t torment him with more of her own questions.  “But he brought you out, and set you down somewhere with your head propped up, and he didn’t try to attack you at all.  At least, it looked like he didn’t” 

Her tongue darts over the dryness of her bottom lip as her jaw hangs open at him.  She doesn’t bother him with more useless questions, but that doesn’t mean the whole ordeal wasn’t plaguing her mind.

Something was very strange about that behavior.  But with Yuji gone, she figured it was no use trying to decipher it all anyways.  Maybe after some time when her grief wears off into something she could live with, she could forget about it completely. 

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

With Yuji turning out to be alive and well, Sukuna’s plans shifted once more.  He’d tortured him as best he could without the ability of taking control of the body, letting his friend be turned into a transfigured human, refusing to kill the spirit that called itself Mahito- as upsetting as it was to his brat vessel, Sukuna cared very little for such trivial events.  In fact, if Yuji were to shut up about it, he probably could have forgotten completely.  He only had one goal on his mind- to return to her again.  Anything else was merely a stepping stone along the way.

Just as before, Sukuna spends most of his time in his domain without much noise.  Except this time, Yuji starts to get an inkling of what he’s doing.

“It’s unbecoming and submissive of you to pretend to be dead,” 

Sukuna taunts one day while Yuji’s working on his ‘training’ on Gojo’s couch while he invests himself with a romantic movie.  His sudden appearance was a good test to his abilities, though, as the sleeping cursed puppet on Yuji’s lap doesn’t stir.  It was safe to say that Yuji had gotten as used to sharing his body with the curse as he was going to get.

“What if your little sorcerer friends need you?” Sukuna chuckles.  He quite enjoys the image of Fushiguro and the little red-headed girl struggling to keep up with mere Second Grade curses.  

“They’re fine” Yuji replies casually, barely paying attention to the mouth on his face that wasn’t his.  The movie was just getting good, after all.

“You think they can manage to hold their own?” Sukuna scoffs at the thought.  “With half-assed cursed techniques like theirs?” 

“Fushiguro and Kugisaki are the most cutthroat people I’ve ever known.  Didn’t Fushiguro almost kick your ass?” Yuji mutters, more irritated than offended by Sukuna’s cruelty.  “You’re just lucky you haven’t had to deal with (y/l/n)” 

So is that what she was calling herself this time? Sukuna’s lips tilt into a smirk.

“She doesn’t seem like much to be afraid of,” The words themselves are harsh, but something in his tone changes.  Enough that Yuji starts to lose focus on the television.  “Last I saw her she was half dead.  If it weren’t for me, she would have been dead-dead” 

That finally catches Yuji’s full attention, and he misses the next few lines of the movie when he asks, “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Sukuna’s silent, thoughtfully so, as he tries to find just the right way to play his cards.  Does he use his history with the brat’s friend as a scare tactic? Or does he keep that little fact to himself for a while longer? Either way, the longer he’s silent, the more Yuji begins to go stir crazy.

“Hey, you old curse!” He hollers suddenly, causing the cursed puppet in his lap to wake up and start to get aggressive.  Yuji heaves as the tiny thing rears a heavy punch into his gut, but it doesn’t stop him from interrogating the curse inside of him.  “What did you mean by that!?” He huffs out.

Sukuna chuckles, and just as quickly as he’d appeared on Yuuji’s cheek, he disappeared again, hiding away in his domain and entertaining himself with the sight of Yuji getting beat up by a little cursed teddy bear.

Perhaps he’d let the brat overthink for a little while longer, anxiety was a form of suffering after all, wasn’t it? At least watching the brat worry himself sick about it would provide him some amusement for the coming days.  Until the sanction of his fake death is lifted, and he could go back to his goal of being reunited with his love.  

(y/l/n).  Her new surname rings in his head as he settles in his domain and lets his mind begin to wander again.  As pretty as it was, he’d have to return it to the proper name.  His name.

Yuji is attacked by Yaga’s cursed puppet a few more times that evening, but not due to the film changing his range of emotions.  In fact, it was due to his complete lack of focus on the movie.  All he could think about was what business Sukuna could possibly have with (y/n).

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

When he makes his surprise reappearance for his friends, Yuji debates on pulling (y/n) aside and asking her about what Sukuna had mentioned.  But for all he knew, he very well could have been toying with him, and ultimately he decided to enjoy what little time he had to catch up with his friends before they dove into the Exchange Event.  It just didn’t seem worth bringing up at this time.

But for some reason, when she takes her seat as the Tokyo students begin their planning, Yuji’s compelled to sit beside her.  It’s not an odd choice, it’s not out of character for him, she is his friend after all, but he’s quite aware of the way his feet move on their own accord to carry him to the empty seat beside her.  Yuji knows his body, and he knows he wasn’t the one commanding it to do that.

It makes him gulp when he unceremoniously plops into the seat.  (y/n) gives him a look, something crossed between confusion and amusement, but she brushes it off and doesn’t say a word as she shifts her focus back to Maki.  Yuji tries to ignore it as well, a bit embarrassed about the whole display.  Was that really Sukuna? He tried to clear his mind, too, it was quite important that he took in everything Maki was saying, but his mind is wrapped up in whatever game the King of Curses was playing right now.

And finally, when he thinks he’s heard enough of the game plan for the event, he feels it.

The slit under his right eye opens, the side facing (y/n).  Yuji holds his breath, hoping that Sukuna doesn’t open his loud mouth and bark out something insulting, but he doesn’t.  His mouth never materializes.  He simply stares.

It’s almost worse.

A few minutes pass and no one seems to notice, as the attention of the room is still commanded by Maki.  Except for Yuji himself, as he’d stopped listening to her altogether while he anxiously awaited whatever was to come next.  What was he doing? He began to bounce his leg.

His throat closes up when he sees (y/n) turn her head out of the corner of his eye.  He doesn’t meet her gaze, even though she’s clearly staring at him- or Sukuna, he supposes- but she doesn’t speak up.  She’s just as silent as the curse he’s hosting.  Still, her gaze remains on the dark eye peeking out at her.  If they weren’t in a room with all of their peers, Yuji would’ve broken his ignorant demeanor by now, but something inside him tells him to keep his mouth shut.

When the group disbanded for a quick lunch before the event officially started, (y/n) remained seated while the others filtered out, and when Yuji began to stand, she stopped him.  All she’s done is reach a hand out, she barely even touches his arm, but it’s enough for him to stop in his tracks, and he stays put in his seat.

They don’t say anything until the room is empty, and even then, (y/n) chooses to speak quietly, almost under her breath.

“What the hell is going on with…” She pauses, her eyes flickering between Yuji’s and the ones below, before she raises her hand in a small gesture.  “Him?” She mumbles it so low, afraid that saying his name would be enough to summon him, even though he’s so clearly already there before her.

“I don’t-” 

Yuji starts, but before he could say anything- or think of anything to say- Sukuna’s mouth is materializing on his cheek.  It’s an unsettling feeling on its own, but Yuji always felt a certain chill on his spine whenever he’d feel that mouth forming a smile.

“Just missed lookin’ at you, sweetheart” 

Yuji’s face is sickly pale in a matter of seconds, the fear that settles over him tenses up all of his muscles, to the point they ache, and as much as he wants to remove himself (and Sukuna) from this situation, he’s frozen in place.  Too stunned to say anything, too stunned to move, he just stands there helplessly as (y/n’s) wide eyes dart between both pairs on his face.

(y/n’s) reaction comes first, the shocked expression wearing off into something else.  Yuji can’t place what it is- anger, disgust- but she loses the desire to keep the conversation quiet as reality settles over her.

“What!?” It comes out in a screech, but it’s just as quickly followed by absolute rambling.  “What the hell are you talking about? What the hell is he talking about?” She awkwardly shifts her gaze between both sets of eyes, unsure and unfamiliar with how to communicate with the both of them.

“I- I don’t-” 

Again, Yuji’s interrupted before he can come up with anything.

“We still have all the time in the world, for now you just keep your pretty little head focused on this game of yours, hm?” 

Just like that, the fanged mouth is disappearing and Yuji’s cheek is returned to it’s normal state again.

(y/n) blinks, going silent again while her face is flushing with color.  Now her eyes seem to focus on the lower, darker pair of eyes.  It’s hard to gauge what Sukuna is thinking, or feeling.  With only a narrowed set of eyes to go off of, not to mention he’s a reckless curse, he’s not a man, she doesn’t know what to make of the interaction.

But with the memory of what Megumi had told her, a dread begins to weigh down her chest.  Whatever this behavior was about, it couldn’t mean anything could.  It was unwanted attention, that was for sure.  No matter how warm her face felt, or how nervous she suddenly was just being around Yuji.

Soon enough the eyes shut too, but even though it appears it’s only her and Yuji in the room, she can still feel Sukuna’s presence.  She swallows the lump in her throat like it’s lead.

“Let’s just…” Her eyes flit away from the closed lids, meeting Yuji’s warm but worried gaze again.  She’s not sure if it’s a comfort or not that he seems just as anxious as she feels.  “Let’s just get through the Exchange Event first” She suggests.

She’s sure that this is the right choice of action.  There was simply no time to dwell on Sukuna’s out of character behavior- then again she didn’t know him, she didn’t know what was in character, he was a curse!- not with all of their peers relying on them to secure the win for the Tokyo Prefecture.

Although she couldn’t deny her head wasn’t exactly in the game during the event.  When she finds herself getting sloppy, taking hits she normally should have been able to dodge, she begins to curse the King of Curses himself.  Surely this whole thing was an act, that was what he was best at, wasn’t it? Torture? Mind games? He was probably laughing it up in his domain watching her struggle so miserably at an event she couldn’t have been more prepared for.

When shit really hit the fan and curses and curse users reared their ugly heads in the middle of a semi-light hearted game, it dawned on her just how out of it she’d really become.  Suddenly it didn’t matter how Mai shouldn’t have been able to get that shot at her shoulder- or how she should’ve seen Miwa’s Domain Expansion coming.  There was no way she was going to let a curse like him get in her head and keep her from protecting her friends and herself from a real threat.

And once this attack in the middle of their event was taken care of and the scores were settled, she’d find a way to give the King of Curses a piece of her mind.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

That time came sooner than expected, and it’s seemingly out of nowhere when he pays her a little visit.

Deep down she knows that she should be terrified when the King of Curses is at her door requesting her time for ‘a talk’ as he called it.  A thousand questions should flood her mind, and after some time they’ll begin to register, slowly and one by one, far later than it’s appropriate to ask.

He’d gotten her alone, and this should terrify her further, she should feel like a lamb in the presence of a wolf- no- curse.  But for some reason, when he enters the training room she’d been doing warm ups in, all she does is stare at him.

Sukuna knows that there’s no way she could have mistaken him for the brat, not with all of his markings, not with his vermillion eyes, not with the abundant amount of cursed energy he carried with him.  Any other mortal would straighten up, freeze in place and stare at him in utter fear as they waited for whatever fate he bestowed upon them.

Not her.

Foolishly, he believes this is due to the lifetimes they’d spent together before this one.  Even though he’s well aware of the rules of the courtship.  He recalls many meetings before this one where he’d had to open her eyes to the Binding Vow that brought her back in every lifetime.  Still, he naively held onto a hope that her lack of reaction to his presence now is because somewhere inside of her, she knows she doesn’t need to be afraid of him like the others.

(y/n’s) true feelings couldn’t have been farther from his assumptions.  It may have been a moment of poor judgment, but the moment he’d materialized at that door, irritation overrode self preservation.  It didn’t matter that the cursed energy he carried was so heavy it was palpable.  

She took one look at the King of Curses and furrowed her brows like she was a child he’d wronged, and there wasn’t an ounce of fear for her life when she’s the first to speak.

“What the fuck are you doing out?” 

Out, it’s a funny choice of word, isn’t it? Sukuna can’t help the chuckle of amusement.  Did she mean out and about, casually roaming the sacred grounds, or could she have meant out due to his control over the brat’s body? 

A frown settles on her lips when she sees he’s already enjoying himself.  She should be wondering what he’s been up to before he came here, or when exactly it was he gained control over Yuji’s body.

“And what happened to-” 

Before she could fully voice her worry for her friend, Sukuna’s waving a dismissive hand.

“The brat’s fine, not everything has to be about him, you know” He scolds her as if this was a conversation they’d had a hundred times before now.  Her frown deepens.

“Forgive me for caring more about him than a curse like you” She scoffs back at him.

How was it that in every lifetime she had to have that same bad attitude? Of course eventually she’d always settle down and warm back up to him, century and century again.  Some cases took days, others years, and Sukuna was starting to get a feeling that due to the circumstances they found themselves in this time around, this case could be the latter.  He frowns at the thought.

He found her so quickly this time, why did she have to be so stubborn? 

“Always such a brat, I can hardly tell the difference between you,” He replies.

The look of disgust on her face is washed away by mild surprise.  Both from the soft and easy cadence of his usually rough and cruel voice, and from the realization that he probably should have killed her for talking back to him the way she did.  Now she starts to wonder just how many buttons she can push before she sees the true side of the King of Curses.

Her brows pinch together as she watches him with calculations behind her eyes.  Was this all a part of the act from before? 

“How interesting could things have been if you’d swallowed the finger that day and not this brat, hm?” He muses, and he seems genuinely curious about it.  

(y/n) can barely keep up with him, trying too hard to jump to conclusions before he’s revealed them.  Then again, there might be nothing to understand at all- this was all a part of the mind games, wasn’t it? She makes a mental note to meet with Gojo about this.  Sukuna must’ve had greater plans in mind that the strongest sorcerer should be looped in on.  Even if so far… he hadn’t exactly done anything… just made her friendship with Yuji fairly awkward.

Sukuna hasn’t moved from the doorway.  Her eyes sweep over him carefully as she wonders if this is purposeful.  If his motive is to give her a false sense of safety.

“Humor me for a moment, (y/n)” 

He sounds out her name like it’s an unfamiliar word, and for the first time since he’d appeared minutes prior, there’s a familiar hollow in her chest.  At first she tags it as distress, but the way it lingers like a dull ache has her double guessing it’s cause.

“What?” 

No should’ve been what came out of her mouth- if anything needed to be said at all.  Would he let her leave if she tried? Would he punish her for it? However, despite every instinct begging to drag her in a different direction, she can’t help the intrigue she feels for him.

“What’re you doing here as a sorcerer?” He hums again with his question, eyes narrowing on her slightly as he takes account of her every reaction.

She’s holding her breath right now, it’s obvious in her tense jaw and unmoving chest.  Not even a strand of hair waves in it’s place.  Every part of her is so still, he could easily mistake it as her natural instinct to fear him as her natural predator.  He knows this isn’t the case.

She opens her mouth to protest the question at first, but just as quickly, her jaw slacks, and she’s closing it softly as she sits on it a little more thoughtfully.

“Why do you ask?” 

It irks him to have a question answered with another question.  This was another quirk of hers that she always had in the earlier stages of their reunion.  Even with the grain of irritation, Sukuna still finds himself amused in the way that she truly is the same person in every lifetime.  She may have different names, and occasionally a feature or two isn’t quite how he remembered it- and trust him, he remembered- but her soul remained pure, unfiltered, unchanging.  She was always his.

“The last we spoke, you had quite the unshakable opinion about a society that breeds and boasts of it’s powerful children to protect them, only to leave them in neglect…” He trails off, scanning her features in the search of any flash of recognition.  If anything, she’s only more confused.  Her brows are furrowed and her lips have formed a pout which he deemed as her sign of defeat in trying to understand him.  “Something about creating the things you fear.  But it was quite some time ago, and I see you’ve so clearly changed your mind” He raises a hand, palm up as he lazily gestures to her.

(y/n’s) posture straightens up, partially out of her defensive nature, but mostly due to the seriousness in his tone.  Logic tells her she shouldn’t be taking anything he says as truth, it would be foolish, and in the end probably deadly too.

But that intrigue hits her, ignites a tiny spark in her chest that has her longing to learn more.  The intensity tells her that if he weren’t this curse, that perhaps if he was just a man, she might humor him in the way he was looking for.

If she began the what if game now, she feared she’d find herself justifying her continuation of this conversation.

“You must have me confused, then” 

Her words are clear and concise without being loud.

“I haven’t confused you in any century before this one and I would never confuse you in the ones to come after,” 

She tries to hide the surprise in her expression, but she knows she fails.  Especially when Sukuna’s amusement in her reaction seems more genuine than before.  He takes a step into the room, just a single one.

“Your brat friend is fine.  He fell asleep.  We have a sort of… deal,” 

There is some comfort in his words, even if (y/n) is unsure about her trust in him, the words still hit her chest and her shoulders slowly begin to untense.  She doesn’t question him, doesn’t make any comment at all.  She supposes he’ll fill the silence eventually, and her assumption is correct.

“You and I have known each other for quite some time,” He continues.  “Long ago, you made a Binding Vow to me.  A vow that allowed your mortal body to be reborn in every lifetime, so that I may find you” 

Her brows furrow, hardly believing this to be the truth.  She’s supposed to believe a Binding Vow could hold the power to reincarnate her? A quiet scoff blows past her lips.

“Incredible,” She murmurs, but it’s clear her astonishment isn’t enthusiastic.  It’s cynical.  “What sort of entertainment do you really gain from this?” 

She asks, crossing her arms over her chest as she dares a few steps forward.  She’s not all that close to him, but at the end of the day it didn’t matter her distance from Sukuna, the radius of his danger could stretch for miles.

“You never believe me right away” He muses, his hands folding behind his back as he regards her curiously.  It makes her feel like a specimen, like a wild animal he’s just stumbled upon, but she doesn’t shrink under the intensity of his gaze.

“Would you?”

It’s not the response he’s expecting, but his eyes light up with a flicker of excitement.

“Of course not,” He answers, his lips beginning to curl into a smile.  It should send a chill down her spine, but she takes another step forward and tilts her chin up higher.  So foolish, he thinks with an air of loveliness wrapped around it, don’t you see that the mere fact I let you live for behaving like this must mean there’s some truth in my words? Instead, he tells her “Yet, you fall every time”

“I fall for the trick?” She snaps, but her intrigue remains.

“You fall for me” He clarifies, a finality in his tone that has her shutting up, albeit momentarily.

No, she must’ve been right, it was all some grand trick.  Some ridiculous, theatrical ploy he’d come up with just to deceive her.  She’s not sure of the why yet- if he wanted to kill her, couldn’t he have done it already? If he wanted to torture her, couldn’t he have chained her up by now? She’s skeptical, but she would hate to admit that some part of her, deep, deep down, considers that he may not be lying to her.

Of course he must be lying, so she tries to shove that idea down.

“And why would I do such a thing like that?” She asks, her tone bored, but the wideness in her eyes as she awaited his answer didn’t go unnoticed.  

Sukuna unfolded his hands in order to push them into the pockets of Yuji’s pants.  His grievance in wearing a sorcerer’s uniform was obvious in the unsavory curl in his lips as he briefly glanced down at himself, but his attention returned to her just as quickly.

“A Binding Vow is a double sided contract,” He reminds her.  “You entered it willingly,” He tilts his head at her as he watches her process this information, before he tells her the full truth.  “In fact, you were the one who brought the idea to me, sweetheart” 

“Don’t call me that” She mutters out quickly, not thinking twice about the consequences of scolding the King of Curses.

“It’s true,” Sukuna shrugs his shoulders with a lazy drag.  “I almost didn’t agree to it.  But you’ve always been… convincing” 

She’s not sure what he means, because the memories he’s recalling aren’t shared- if they’re real memories at all- and yet, she continues to lay her questions on thick.

“And why wouldn’t I choose to remember all of this then, hm? If I chose to be reborn, over and over, why wouldn’t I have wanted to remember?” She’s challenging him, and Sukuna’s enjoying it, even if it means that right now the distance she puts between them is further than before he’d found her due to her distrust in him.

History has repeated itself for thousands of years, but no event was as perfectly cyclical as she was to him.  Time and time again he would find her, and in every lifetime, she’d been his.

“You wanted to,” He tells her.  “The vow took a bit of a different turn than expected.  See, your soul didn’t simply leap into a pre-existing person with each reincarnate.  You were born again.  Every part of your being, physical and… otherwise, was reborn.  It actually makes it all the more difficult to find you, you know” 

“Seems like a copout” She says, her expression unamused.

“Well go on then, what else do you want to ask me?”

“I have nothing,” She lies.  “Because I’m not entertaining this any further” 

“Fine, then,” To her surprise, Sukuna actually accepts her rejection- if you could call it that.  “I’ll give the brat his body back.  But you’ll know where to find me once you start to remember” 

He leaves without a word, not even a mere wave, and it’s not until he’s gone that (y/n) wonders if she should be worried about him roaming the grounds of Jujutsu Tech, but nothing happens.

In fact it’s such a quiet night that the next morning everyone seems well rested and rejuvenated, all in good spirits and ready to take on the day.  Everyone but her.  And she can’t stop her eyes from shifting towards Yuji every thirty seconds, always double checking the slits under his eyes, as if one of these times she’d find them open and focused on her.

She can’t get the image of Sukuna lounging so casually in that training room.  It’s hard when one of her closest friends shares his face, so even when she’s not anxious about seeing that second set of eyes, her heart still skips a beat when Yuji’s eyes catch hers and he smiles politely.

Naturally, that skip in her heart was due to her nerves, and had nothing to do with the contents of her discussion with the curse inside of him.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Sukuna gives (y/n) what he believes to be an abundant amount of time to let their past settle in.  He wants her to process it all properly.  He wants her to come to her senses and realize that there were no ulterior motives in his reveal.

He still makes the occasional crude comment from Yuji’s cheek, but while they’re ever directed at her, she finds her posture straightening and her eyes trained on the skin where he’s materialized, always waiting for him to direct something her way.  He doesn’t.  He hardly even looks at her- when she’s looking, that is.  While inside of his domain and perfectly hidden by Itadori Yuji, Sukuna spends as much of his time staring at her while he can.  Some days, there’s an intensity so strong that Yuji finds himself not-so-subtly staring at her too.  Sukuna doesn’t like this- if he had things his way then no one would lay there eyes on what was his- but letting Yuji sneak glances here and there was a small price to pay in order to make sure the pair remain close enough that Sukuna’s still able to have some sense of nearness to her.

Due to this silent period on his part, (y/n) decides against bringing Gojo’s attention to the situation.  While she knows it hasn’t just disappeared, because she just knows that it will be brought up again, she hopes that enough time passes that she can learn to brush it off as nonsense spewed from a bored curse.

It nags at her, despite her best efforts, she never allows herself to forget it completely.  It crosses her mind every day, if not every minute she spends with Yuji.  The way he stood, the way he spoke, it would play on a loop in her mind until she was sure it would drive her to the point of madness.  It very well could have, already.

And one night, she decides to take the reins into her own hands, and she approaches it first.

After watching a partial movie in the common room, Megumi had long gone to bed and Nobara had crashed on a makeshift pile of blankets on the floor, (y/n) feels an anxiousness settle over her when she hears Yuji begin to snore and he, too, was just as knocked out as the rest of her friends.

She debates on it for a moment, her eyes sliding between the flickering television and the resting boy sitting beside her on the couch.  Her index finger taps at an unkept pace against her knee, and she lets as many minutes pass as she could, just to be sure Yuji truly was asleep.

Then she turned her head fully, eyes focused on that mark under his face where Sukuna’s eyes were peacefully shut.  Not sure of the inner workings on how the whole vessel thing worked, her only choice was to take a shot in the dark and hope it worked.

“I was going to tell Gojo about what you said, you know” 

Her whisper is so soft, her voice cracks and gives on certain syllables.  Even if he could hear her from in there, she wonders if he could have heard something so silently spoken.

Slowly, the eye opens, and it blinks a few times before it slides towards her.  She wonders if he sleeps in there, or if every introduction light when he leaves his domain requires an adjustment.

And then, Yuij’s stirs, and (y/n) freezes up, watching as he twitches before his eyes begin to blink awake, as well.  Fear spikes in her chest at the thought of getting caught talking to the curse inside of him while he slept.

But when his eyes fully open and an array of markings begin to paint across his features, she realizes it’s not Yuji.  It’s just his body.  There’s a certain guilt that follows her relief from this.  In no situation should she feel pleased to see Sukuna over Yuji.

“Am I supposed to be threatened by this?” He asks slowly, in a low tone of voice that she can’t decide the cause of.  Was he trying to be considerate of the sleeping sorcerer on the ground? Or was he just trying to be as menacing and mysterious as always? 

He doesn’t lift his head from where Yuji had been dozed off against the couch cushion, neck craned at an angle that couldn’t be comfortable to sleep in for the entire night, but Sukuna’s not exactly looking out for the brat’s comfort.  He could use a good crick in the neck or two.

“I don’t think there’s anything I could do to threaten you,” (y/n) replies honestly, the hush in her voice making her sound softer than she would’ve liked.  She doesn’t need him thinking she’s warming up to being in his presence, after all.  “But… would you kill me if I was?” 

“What do you think?” 

It comes out fast enough to be taken harshly, like he holds a disbelief in how idiotic she could be, but their conversation began with a whisper and it seems to be carried on that way.  A lump forms in (y/n’s) throat as she holds eye contact with the darkened vermillion ones that stare back at hers.

The deep feeling she’d buried, the one that told her maybe she trusted him whether she liked it or not, sparked and caught light, burned just a little bit brighter, caused just enough smoke for her to give some of her attention to.

If he truly wanted to kill her, he had millions of chances to do so before now.  So she concludes that his goal wasn’t to do so.  Of course, this begs the question,

“What is it that you want, Sukuna?” 

She’s much calmer than the last time they spoke, he notices.  She’s nervous, but not tense, and not nearly as defensive.  He’s not naive, he doesn’t mistake this for trust, but he is pleased in her change in attitude.

An idle smile curls on his lips as his fixed gaze softens with familiarity.

Just like every time before now, she always, eventually, came around to him.  It was like her curiosity couldn’t keep her away, and her heart always won over her mind.

“I believe you already know the answer to that” He refrains from letting an old pet name fall from his tongue, a courtesy to her that he allows this once, just so she wouldn’t flee from her seat next to him.

She hums, letting the sort-of-answer sit on her mind for a moment.  An unknown feeling gnaws at her- or at least, a feeling she doesn’t want to put a name to.

“Why?” The word ghosts off of her lips, and even with the worried knot between her brows her eyes stay set on his.  “Why does it have to be me?” 

“You’re looking at it all wrong,” Sukuna muses, his lower set of eyes rolling just slightly before he can help it.  “It doesn’t have to be you- it just is.  It’s always been you, and it always will be” 

“Because of the Binding Vow?” She questions, and he blinks at her, processing what she meant, before his brows furrow just a little bit, and he shakes his head.

“The only clause to our vow is that you will always be reborn,” His tongue runs over his teeth as he tries to bite back the amusement he feels when realization dawns on her.  “Everything after that comes from your own free will, sweetheart” 

“Don’t call me that” She snaps at him, but it’s a mumble, hardly audible, hardly threatening.  Sukuna purses his lips.

“Like I said, you were the one who came up with the contract,” He huffs.  “I would’ve never agreed to such a thing if you weren’t so persistent” 

She perks up at that little comment, and suddenly turns in her seat, tucking her legs underneath her as she faces him.  Sukuna’s barely moved at all, still slouched into the cushion in the position Yuji had fallen asleep in.  His eyes follow her movements as she sets her elbow on the top of the furniture so she could prop her head in her hand.  Her brows are drawn together again as she studies him.

“Then why tell me about it?” She blurts the question out.

“Because I’m the one burdened with the centuries of memories” He replies without missing a beat, voice dry and expression unreadable.  He’s keeping it as neutral as possible, knowing her calculating eyes would see right through any sudden change, no matter how small.

“And you are?” She asks, and then in a softer voice, finishes the thought, “Burdened?” 

Sukuna blinks, slowly, before letting his gaze wander the soft and curious look on her face.  He fights the urge to smile at the loveliness of it all- the twitch in her nose, the small pout in her lip- he’s the King of Curses and there should be no force on this earth that weakens him the way her gentle gaze focused on him does.  Even after all this time, she is his achilles heel, she is his greatest burden, and she is the only thing he could ever truly, completely, want.

“Yes,” His answer is quiet, and (y/n) lifts her head as she stares at him with her confusion.  “There exists no stronger shackles a being could trap me with the way you have,”

Her face falls, and she’s silent for a long moment.  With a dry throat and a mind too busy and overcrowded with thoughts, she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say.  But that gnawing feeling was starting to make her chest ache, and the pounding of her heart in her ribcage was relentless.

“There’s no greater curse I could bear” 

She hates the way he says these things so casually, without a strain in his expression or voice.  She wonders if it’s because he’s done it so many times that it’s lost it’s value.  Perhaps to him, this was just a part of the burden that was her existence, explaining these things to her was simply a chore that needed to be completed.  She swallows a few times to ease the dryness of her throat.

“Does it get old?” 

Sukuna smiles.  It should trouble her- he knows that it unsettles Yuji- but if she feels unease it’s not shown.

“A thousand years of anything gets old,” He sighs, rolling his head over the cushion to stare up at the blank ceiling.  “And I’d hate to admit the things that never get old” 

It’s stupid.  It’s ridiculous and foolish and naive, but she smiles.

“What doesn’t get old?” She asks, her curiosity blending with a sick sense of delight as she wonders just how many sides of Sukuna there really are.

He angles his head towards her again, narrowing his gaze as his lips twisted into a small smirk.  It felt like his technique had the ability to see right through her- she wondered if he was really strong enough to do that.

“Last time we spoke, you said you wouldn’t entertain this,” He reminds her.  “What’s changed?” 

“Nothing,” She murmurs back without a moment of hesitation.  

It’s the truth, and she has no reason to falsify an answer for him.  Just as he had no reason to be so forward about their past.  Even if she hadn’t gathered much, this conversation was much different from their last, and she felt as though she would walk away with this one overwhelmed by all of this new information.  Her trust in him is precarious, and could easily be destroyed by one wrong move, but right now, she can’t see what reason she has not to take him at his word.  It’s not as if he’s asking for anything in return, it’s not as if she won’t return to her dorm for the night and likely not see or speak to him again for some time.  So, she supposed, what was the harm in entertaining the idea just a little?

“Nothing at all” She finishes the thought softly, before turning her attention back to the forgotten movie still playing across the room.  It was nearing the end, and she’d missed enough of it to barely understand what was happening on screen now, but she didn’t have any more questions for the King of Curses tonight, and he kept quiet as she watched the movie.

To her surprise, Sukuna did sit and watch the movie.  She’s not sure how much of it he actually listened or paid attention to, but it was clear that he had not given Yuji his body back, and was still very much alert and in control.

(y/n) doesn’t return to her dorm room until she finally sees Yuji asleep next to her, his face bare of any markings, and the extra eyelids under his eyes closed just as peaceful as his own.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

In the meantime, (y/n) didn’t feel so anxious around Yuji anymore, which they were both grateful for.  Yuji wasn’t sure why the sudden chance came about, but he certainly wouldn’t complain.  He was just glad to have his friend acting her usual self again.

He had no idea of the few chats she’d shared with the curse he hosted.  While Sukuna wasn’t necessarily hiding his interest in her, he wasn’t forthright with the brat either.  He didn’t need the kid interfering with what he was building on here.  It was slow moving like a trail of molasses but Sukuna was more patient than most people gave him credit for.  He could let a lot of things go.

Not this, however.

All of Gojo’s students had been sent on a seemingly standard assignment.  Odd, unexplainable disappearances had been happening in a clearing in the middle of the woods, enough so to alert jujutsu society and send a few sorcerers to the scene to investigate.

Upon arrival, there was an undeniable heaviness in the air.  The field that the group of four found themselves in didn’t stretch for miles, but it was no small clearing.  It was a strange place for a curse to settle in and lure non-sorcerers towards.  Curses often tucked themselves into hidden spots, within abandoned buildings or deep in the thick brush of the woods.  Not a clearing of grass and wild daisies.

The entire situation was odd, it didn’t sit right in anyone’s mind as they went their separate ways to scour the area for any insight on what was happening here.  It didn’t take long for something to turn up.

A curse that had to have been a First Grade, with a large, sharp toothed grin and gouged out eyes, materialized in the clearing’s center, and as soon as it clocked this evening’s prey as jujutsu sorcerers, it seemed to go into a mad state.  (y/n’s) not sure if it possesses great speed or the ability to teleport when it’s suddenly before her.  All she’s able to do in that amount of time is lift her weapon into an offensive position, she’s not even given the time to drive it forward in an attack before suddenly, she’s no longer on the ground.

She comes to mid air, just before she hits the ground and rolls a few times before her senses kick in and her hands brace themselves against the ground.  She can faintly hear her friends calling for her in their shock, but it’s distant.  Her head is spinning too fast for her to lift it to see just how far the curse had thrown her.

A few coughs erupt from her throat before she even tells her body to do so, brought on by the hit to her chest once she’s lifted herself up enough to relieve the pressure from the ground.  Her arms are trembling from the adrenaline and a few drops of blood splatter from her mouth, but once she’s sat up enough, she drags the sleeve of her uniform over her mouth to dry the blood, and she finally gets a good look at where she is.

She’s been thrown clear out of the field, and she considers herself lucky that her body hadn’t been halted by a tree, and instead tumbled to the ground.  Being thrown directly into one of the large oaks she’s surrounded by could’ve been fatal if she’d hit it just right, or at the very least she could’ve broken her ankle.  With a rushed assessment she decides nothing feels broken, and therefore she can grab her weapon and- 

Her weapon is nowhere near her.  She scrambles to her feet, her breaths heavy and irregular as she searches around the grass, looking for the large blade she’d had in her hands less than a minute ago.  

It had only been a minute, right? She hadn’t blacked out, had she?

Realizing there was no use wasting her time looking for a weapon now, she pushes herself to break into a sprint back towards the clearing.  Her friends are blurry images moving about, trying to attack the larger blurry images that fends off their attacks with little struggle.  She concludes this when she begins to hear the yelps and grunts of her fellow sorcerers, and yet the curse doesn’t seem to struggle at all.

Just when her vision begins to clear and she’s preparing herself to rejoin the fight with only her cursed technique and her fists, she sees the curse grab Megumi by the leg, and soon after he’s getting thrown into the air just as she did.  His name is torn from her raw throat in an instant- but Megumi is more prepared to be airborne than she was, drawing his hands together to summon Nue to catch him.

Relief is short lived, and soon Megumi finds himself instructing Nue to catch Nobara and Yuji when shortly after, they’re being thrown as well.  Nue’s a quick shikigami, but it’s only strong enough to carry one person at a time before it’s energy starts to deplete, and the curse keeps at it’s movements, chuckling the three of them into the air before they can land an attack on them on their decline.  Yuji tries, using Black Flash on his descent in the hopes of striking it where it hurts, but the curse manages to catch him in a tight fist before chucking him again.

(y/n’s) still keeping an eye out for her weapon when she grows nearer to the fight, seeing as no one else’s techniques have caused any real damage yet, her cursed tool of a sword could be quite handy right about now.

She was hoping that with it’s attention focused on the other three, she could attack it from behind, and drive it more towards the clearing again.  With how much movement and tossing it had done, it had driven them all deeper into the woods, which made it harder to land attacks, but had been good coverage for (y/n) to sneak up in her approach.

To her disadvantage, she hadn’t expected there to be a pair of large eyes on the back of it’s head.  In the dark of the night she hadn’t noticed them until they’d opened and landed on her instantaneously.  It must’ve sensed her sneaking around behind it.

She’s quicker in her movements this time, dodging it’s large hand before it could grab onto her, but it outsmarts her and snatches her up in the other.  A yelp sounds from her when it squeezes harder than the last time, her air supply cut off just as she’d tried to take in a large breath, making her sputter and cough as it raised her in the air again.  A sense of dread and failure washes over her when she realizes it’s going to throw her again.  Whatever this curse’s deal was, it had a thing for throwing it’s victims around to torture them.

And torture it was- as this time when she’s launched into the air, it’s a clear throw over the trees.  It’s harder than before, and faster.  The cool air cuts over her face in sharp streams, bringing tears to her eyes before she could comprehend what would come of her fall.  She could brace herself, but as she gets a watery glance at what’s below, she knows that shielding her face would provide no comfort to her fall.

Just past the cluster of oak trees is a steep overhang.  Rock and the roots of old trees jutting out some thirty feet to the ground.  

This is why her fall felt so long.  A sharp gasp escapes her, and when her inhale gets caught in her throat, she wonders if this is the last breath she’ll ever take.

When she shuts her eyes to protect them from the harsh wind, a wetness spreads down her cheeks.  In a last ditch effort at self preservation, her arms brace over her face, and she buries herself into them, not wanting to see the last thing that would break her fall.  Hopefully she wouldn’t feel it, either.

Her jaw clenched tightly as her heart began to race faster, expecting the crash to come soon.

The sensation isn’t as expected.  There is no slam against stone or cold ground that knocks the wind out of her.  Instead something’s wrapped around her middle, and out of worry that the curse had grabbed her in order to throw her again, she withdraws her head from her arms in a jolt.

It’s not the curse that’s caught her mid-fall.

It’s Sukuna.

With one arm wrapped around her back and the other around her shoulders, his large hand braces the back of her head to keep her tucked close.  They’re still falling, but the sensation feels different like this.  It’s almost as if he’s carrying her to the ground, his posture as natural as it would be if he were standing there now.

Wide, watery eyes blink up at him in astonishment when she fully registers what was happening.

“You’re alright, I’ve got you, sweetheart” 

If it weren’t for the rawness in her throat, she might’ve scolded him for the pet name, but her voice was taken away from her as soon as she’d been heaved into the sky a second time.

She doesn’t even process the way she’s gripping onto him until he lands on the ground, holding her up just a moment longer before carefully setting her on her feet.  Her hands are holding onto the sleeves of Yuji’s uniform in fists so tight her knuckles are white, and her hands are trembling.

The others are nowhere in sight, or at least, she can’t see them right now.  Her mind is so shaken up she doesn’t actually look.  Her eyes don’t tear away from the stunning red of Sukuna’s once.  She doesn’t even blink- hence the continued downpour of tears.  From the wind and her acceptance of a brutal death, her emotions were slowly catching up to reality.

Her chest is heaving but there’s no relief in feeling like she’s caught her breath.  Her heart is pounding so hard that it makes her ribs ache, but that very well could be the bruising from her previous fall setting in.  Her mouth moves but it takes a few tries for any real words to come out, and when her voice does come back to her, she doesn’t say much.

“S- Sukuna-” 

He silences her before she could even try to say something else.  Prying her hands off of his arms and placing them at her sides, even though there’s still tremors in her muscles.

“I only have a minute,” He tells her, in a gravely serious tone that she’s never heard from him before.  She blinks her wide eyes, leftover tears getting stuck on her lashes.  “It’s been handled” 

He doesn’t say anything else, but he doesn’t get the chance to before his posture begins to weaken, followed by his eyelids twitching and the marks beginning to fade away.

Gasping, (y/n) surges forward, grabbing Yuji by the shoulders before he could stumble and fall.  His eyes roll and blink a few times before he feels in control of his body again.  Soon after his posture straightens, and then it’s Yuji who’s looking worriedly down at (y/n).

She’s close, very close.  Her hands are gripping onto his shoulders for dear life.  He can feel her panting against his chin as her worried eyes scan over his features.

Yuji’s disoriented, like maybe he’s just woken up from a dream, or maybe he’s just woken up inside of a dream, and he’s not exactly sure how to voice this concern.  She makes it harder on him when one of her hands leaves his shoulder in order to reach for his cheek.

It’s so affectionate, the way she reaches for his face and presses her palm against it, that Yuji finds his skin heating up and a blush appearing over his cheeks before he could will himself not to.  She’s never behaved this way with him before.  He could only recall casual touches that occurred during training, or maybe a brush of her fingers when she handed him something, but nothing as intentional as this.  

And she’s certainly never looked at him like that either.  He can’t place his finger on it, but it makes his stomach churn to meet her eyes.

“Uh, (y/n)?” He mumbles out her name, and he finds himself doing a quick sweep of her, assessing her for a major injury.  But she’s standing just fine, and he can’t see any blood.  This had to be a head injury, right? 

He asks himself that question once more then the pad of her thumb brushes under his eye.  She faintly traces the incision of the closed eyelid just below his eyelashes.  Yuji holds his breath, but he’s not sure who he’s doing it for.  (y/n), whose eyes are glossing over as she’s gazing at the wrong eyes, which remained closed, or Sukuna, who Yuji was sure she was trying to reach to now.

And then she leans even closer, and the breath he’d been holding is forced out of him from the closing distance between them.  Her hands remain where they are, on his shoulder with an iron grip and against his cheek with the gentleness of a butterfly landing there.

On instinct Yuji finds his eyes darting down to her lips, but he’s positive she’s not going to kiss him- right? She wouldn’t do such a thing on a whim, not like this, not now when they’ve barely completed their assignment.  Not to mention their friends aren’t too far away- where are Nobara and Megumi anyways? Yuji’s thoughts are racing as fast as his heart as he struggles to figure out what to do as she grows nearer.

Before he has to come up with a decision, (y/n) stops, and Yuji swallows the lump in his throat out of relief that she wasn’t leaning in to kiss him.  The ride home would have been so awkward.

“Thank you” She breathes out the words, her thumb stroking over the spot on his cheek one more time before she finally drops her hand, and she pulls away from Yuji completely.

He blinks at her in disbelief, waiting for his heartbeat to calm down, which it does the further she steps away.

“What happened?” He asks, louder than he means to, but when he finally collects his thoughts and processes what just happened, he can’t help but blurt out the question.

The pair begin to make their way back to the clearing, both realizing that the First Grade curse was gone, clearly exorcized with the amount of purple goo coating the surrounding plants and trees.  They don’t discuss it right away, but they both have an inkling on how it was taken care of.

“Sukuna saved my life” 

Yuji wants to ask more questions, but when he turns towards her to do so, he can tell that she’s not ready to talk about it.  Her features had hardened, and she didn’t meet his eyes as they walked.

He knows he’s put off this conversation one too many times already… but once again he finds himself biting his tongue as they catch up with their other friends.

Something tells him that he’ll have to bring it up soon, though.  Because the King of Curses wouldn’t save just anyone’s life twice- much less a sorcerer.  And he has a gut feeling that (y/n) knows more than she’s letting on.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

This time, it’s only a few days since the last assignment when (y/n) crosses paths with Sukuna again.  Well, this time around, he came to her.

She’s just slid her bookmark between the pages she’d decided to pause on tonight when there’s a knock at her door.  With a quiet huff- she was just about to go to sleep after all- but before she can call for her visitor to come in, the door slides open and he’s inviting himself right on.

“Yu-! Sukuna?” 

The initial scolding tone she takes drops as soon as she realizes he’s not who she thought.  Her voice softens around his name in a way that it shouldn’t, but that she can’t help.  She sits up a little further in her bed, brows furrowing as he slides the door shut behind him.

“You can’t just walk in here” 

“I knocked” 

“Okay well… well you have to wait for me to actually invite you in” She mumbles out, only to be met with a scoff and a humorless chuckle.  But when her frown deepens, he sighs.

“Fine, I’ll knock for longer next time” He grunts, before he begins to wander around her room.  He glances over the few things littered on her desk- a picture frame of her and her friends, an open and neglected textbook, a pair of bracelets she’d forgotten to put away- he almost forgets why he’d come in to begin with.

“Um… did you need something?” (y/n) asks after a minute of him wandering around and eyeing all of her things.

“You’re freaking out the brat,” Sukuna says casually, picking up a little porcelain cat on her shelf.  His eyes narrow as he turns the small thing around in his hands, as if trying to decipher it’s purpose.  “He won’t stop asking about you now” 

“What?” (y/n) pushes the covers off her lap, moving to the end of the bed to sit a little closer to him.  It doesn’t matter if she’s quiet, it’s only the two of them in the room, but she feels a sudden need to lower her voice anyways.  “What do you mean he’s freaking out?” 

He turns to her then, the figurine still in his hands.  The tiniest of smiles purses on her lips at how silly a tiny cat looks in his large and tattooed hands.  Despite how easily he could crush it to dust, his hold on it is gentle.

“I just thought that you should be aware, you know, that eventually you’ll have to decide if you want to explain yourself to your friends or not” 

Her stomach twists and turns into dozens of little knots.  The King of Curses was stopping by her room late into the night just for this? She shouldn’t be surprised, because she knew his motives, but still, she blinked at him with wide eyes.

“You haven’t…?” The question trails off as she shakes her head at him, unsure of how to word it just right.

“I don’t like the idea of the brat knowing all of my business,” Sukuna hums, finally setting the cat back down on her shelf.  “You’ve always had a knack for collecting useless things” He comments, and the words are harsh but his tone is nothing but amused.

“So… you think I should talk to Yuji?” She asks, and Sukuna lets his shoulders rise and fall in disinterest.

“If that’s what you want” He says, but it doesn’t feel considerate.  (y/n) frowns.

“Don’t you think he’ll be… upset?” 

“With you?” 

She nods.

“You’ve done nothing wrong.  If anything, the brat would only worry about you.  Seeing as he despises me, and all” 

“You don’t exactly make it easy to feel otherwise” (y/n) mumbles, and her words hang in the air for a few long moments.  She’s not sure if she means the insinuation behind them or if it’s just a coincidence, but she doesn’t try to backtrack to explain herself.

“Yes, well, he certainly cares more for you than he does for me.  Too much so.  Some boundaries might do you some good, you know” 

“Boundaries?”

“Yes, boundaries.  He almost kissed you” 

Her eyes nearly bulge out of her head before her brows furrow and she scoffs in disbelief.

“What? What are you even talking about?” 

Sukuna tucks his hands into his pockets, looking all the more out of place in her room at this hour.

“During your little gratitude session on your last assignment,” He says, his lips curling into a deep frown.  “You got a bit too close and his brat-mind went a bit haywire.  You don’t need to be so affectionate with him, you know.  A plain thank you would have sufficed-” 

“I wasn’t being affectionate with him,” She snaps back, and Sukuna raises a brow at the display.  “I was thanking you, asshole.  You pretty much saved my life?” She says it like she’s trying to jog his memory.  “I wasn’t trying to make a move on Yuji, and I’m sure he knew that too.  I don’t control his thoughts, he can think whatever he wants, doesn’t mean it’s happening” 

Sukuna steps closer to where she sat before bending down to match her height.  She’s still frowning, clearly annoyed with this interaction, but she had yet to ask him to leave, and he has a feeling she won’t.

“So if the brat had plucked up the nerve to make a move, you would’ve pushed him away?” He asks, and he’s smirking, almost as if he wants her to say otherwise.  Her eyes narrow, not understanding what his mind games were getting at this time.

“Politely, yes,” She answers, shaking her head at him.  “Why does this matter? Last I checked, in this lifetime, I’m not some cowering wife for you to boss around” 

Sukuna laughs at that, genuinely laughs.  He stands back up to his full height and throws his head back and cackles so loud that (y/n) can only pray Nobara doesn’t wake up from next door.  She might not need to whisper to speak with him, but the walls weren’t exactly soundproof either.

“Sweetheart, you’ve never been a cowering wife,” He tells her once his laughter died down.  “A wife, perhaps, but never some submissive weak minded mortal” He adds.

“So we have been married?” 

She asks him with such peculiarity, and it makes him chuckle again.  She sounds as though this has been the strangest thing he’s revealed thus far, and he can’t help but find humor in it.

“We have” He answers.

(y/n) shifts her position, pulling her legs towards her chest and staring up at him expectantly, waiting for a continuation that wouldn’t come.  Sukuna merely stares at her with mild confusion.

“Well?” She asks, tilting her head forward.  “Did we get married every time?” 

He smirks.

“I’ve told you that you created a Binding Vow in order to be with me across centuries of eras.  In the grand scheme of things, don’t you think marriage is a little… bleak?” 

(y/n) shrugs a shoulder, resting her arms atop her knees as she gazes back at him curiously.

“It’s bleak in this lifetime,” She murmurs back.  “Not to me, at least” 

Sukuna hums, before shaking his head.

“You never change” 

“Do I really?” She presses again.  “For the last… thousand years… am I really the same?” 

Sukuna ponders for a moment.  This was a common question of hers, and each time, he struggled to answer it.

“You really want to know?” 

She doesn’t say anything, but she pats her hand against the space on the bed next to her.  Sukuna’s gaze shifts to it momentarily, before looking back at her.  After a moment, he takes a seat.

“You are almost completely the same in every lifetime I’ve found you in,” He explains.  “You’re always stubborn, you never make it easy.  But you always… come around,” He turns to her.  “Like now” 

“You think I’m coming around?” She asks, a skeptical look in her eye that makes him smirk.  He leans forward as though the next part he shares is a grave secret.

“You never want to admit it, but you always have a soft spot for me” 

(y/n) raises a brow back at him in defiance.

“I think you’ve got that turned around,” She murmurs.  “I think the King of Curses has a soft spot for me.  And I think he’s making it everyone’s problem” 

He chuckles quietly, his gaze sweeping over the gentle features of her face.

“I think the feelings you have for me in every beginning come from your soul’s memory,” He tells her, raising a hand, and gently pressing the pad of his thumb against the center of her forehead.  The sudden touch makes her freeze at first, but eventually she relaxes as the rest of his fingers lay in her hair.  “I haven’t quite figured it out yet, I don’t know how it is that you’re never able to keep your memories,” He tilts his head as he ponders it for a moment, his eyes focused on where he’s touched her head.  “But I think deep down, you know that you trust me” 

(y/n) doesn’t have a witty comeback for that one.  She’s still reeling from the warmth of his touch, and the weight of his words.  But she feels obligated to say something when his gaze met hers again.

“I never said I believed you in all this, you know” She whispers weakly.

“You don’t believe me?” He murmurs back at her, his voice a low rumble as his hand starts to fall from her head.  He doesn’t remove his touch, he lets the back of his finger trace along her temple, before slowly moving down her jaw.  Sukuna doesn’t seem displeased in her words.  If anything, he seems intrigued by them.  “You know, you almost look the same in every life, too” 

“I do?” She asks, just as his fingers fall still against her cheek.

Sukuna hums, and nods his head.

“The last I saw you, your hair was different,” He tells her.  “It was longer, to about… here,” With his free hand, he gently touches her waist, and the way she tenses doesn’t go unnoticed.  “You would wear it in all sorts of different styles.  Pretty braids and… whatever our servants would desire to do that day,” Her eyes widen at his use of the word servants, but Sukuna glides over it.  “But that was a few hundred years ago, of course.  It would all be outdated now,” He drops his hand from her waist, but the other remains against her cheek, his touch ghosting over it.  “Not that it wouldn’t still be exquisite” 

Her eyes shift between his, trying to decipher the emotion they hold.  She can’t tell if he’s amused or sorrowful.  Was he disappointed that she couldn’t remember?

“This is why I’m the one who doesn’t believe you” He murmurs after a few beats pass.

(y/n’s) brows draw together just slightly, just enough to pinch the skin between them.

“What do you mean?” She asks, her voice betraying her as it shakes just a little.

“Because you look at me like that” He says, nodding at her slightly.

(y/n) blinks, doe eyes resembling the glass of the porcelain cat he’d just been mocking.  Her lips are parted, formed in the smallest of pouts as she gazes up at him, that look unrelenting.

She tilts forward, her gaze flickering over his face leisurely, mapping out the black markings, and all the small details that make him so different from Yuji.  The way he insists on pushing the bangs out of his face, the broader jaw, the sharper canine that she only notices when he laughs or smiles- which is quite rare.  She’s admiring him so openly that Sukuna’s not sure what to do under such heavy surveillance, so he just sits there and allows her to stare.

But eventually, she sighs, and drops her legs from her chest before she crawls across her bed, moving to get under the covers again.  Sukuna remains in his spot at the end, watching her without an expression as she settles into her pillow.

“Does it disturb Yuji’s rest when you take over like this?” She asks quietly as she presses her cheek into the soft comfort of her pillow.

No, the brat’s completely dozed off, that’s why he could take over like this.  It’s what he wants to say, but he doesn’t.

“I’ll be sure it doesn’t” He says as he stands, and walks around the bed, facing the side she’s just moved to.  He crouches down to meet her eye level again, and (y/n) moves a little closer to the edge towards him.

“Okay, good,” She whispers.

She blames her exhaustion when she reaches out to him, the tips of her fingers barely prodding at the dark ink that follows the sharp curve of his jaw.  Her eyes follow it as she traces it down to his chin, almost painfully slow.  It takes every ounce of restraint for him not to lean into the touch.

“I don’t know what you expect me to do, Sukuna,” She murmurs, her fingers lingering on his chin, her eyes slowly meeting his.  “I… I can’t…” 

She can’t even say the words.  She hardly wants to be thinking about them.  But Sukuna knows her better than anyone who’s ever walked this earth, and he nods back at her in understanding before she could try to finish the thought.

“I’ve never expected anything of you,” He murmurs, before reaching up to pull her hand from his face, gently closing his fingers around her own as he moves it away.  “You have been the greatest love of my life whether you’re able to remember or not,” He tells her, and she listens to him with her full attention.  “And whether you believe me or not, you still will be,”

There’s the smallest of squeezes to her hand with his words, and a lump begins to build up in her throat.

“You can ask more questions another time, alright? You should get some sleep, sweetheart” 

She gives him a faint nod, her eyes already feeling too heavy to keep open when she feels her blanket being dragged over her shoulders.  Distantly, her mind registers that the King of Curses is tucking her into bed, but she’s too tired now to comment on it.

There’s another squeeze to her fingers, followed by a hesitation, and then the soft, unmistakable pair to two lips pressing against her knuckles.  It’s not a lingering kiss, and it’s featherlight, over as soon as it began, and again, (y/n) keeps her eyes shut and doesn’t say anything.

Sukuna lays her hand down against her blanket with the gentleness of maneuvering a newborn.  She hears him walking away towards her door.

“Goodnight, Sukuna” 

It’s the softest call, but it’s enough to make him pause at the door and glance back at her.  She still can’t look at him- she’s afraid she’ll burst into tears if she does, although she can’t quite explain the heavy emotion that’s bringing the tears to her eyes to begin with.

“Goodnight, my love” 

It’s murmured so quickly before he’s hastily exiting her room that she could’ve missed it altogether, but she doesn’t.  Her hand curls into her sheets as she pulls it close to her chest as she lets tonight’s conversation sink into her mind.

The truth was, she did trust him.  She did believe him.  And she was pretty sure this was the case for the entire time she’s known him.  She’s pretty sure this was unavoidable.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Everything’s blurry when she first comes to.

And everything hurts.

She tries to move, but it only results in a strangled whine being pulled from her throat as soon as she tries.

She’s on the ground.  It’s covered in rubble.  There’s glass pricking her arms- or maybe the gravel was just that sharp.  There’s a warmth pooling under the side she’s laying on.  Likely blood.

Another groan when she at least tries to get on her back in order to assess the bleeding wound on her left side, but just as she’s about to roll her body weight, she catches something in her vision.

Yuji?

He’s slumped over against a wall, and he looks no better than she feels.  Covered in bruises and blood that may or may not be his own- whatever went down was ugly.

She blinks a few times to focus her vision a little better.  She tries to call for him but her throat is raw and all that comes out is another whine.  Either way, he’s clearly passed out and wouldn’t have responded.  The fight must’ve taken everything out of him.

Oh, the fight, it slowly starts coming back to her in flashing images.  That Blood Manipulation Guy.  He was rough.  She’s not sure how they got out of it alive- she’s not sure how they got to this point at all.  Her mind’s still foggy and the only thing that’s easy to focus on is the shooting pains in her body.

That is, until there’s the sound of clicking heels and hushed, feminine voices.  (y/n) hadn’t even realized her eyes had slipped shut again until those two appeared, and she peeks her eyes open to see two girls whispering between themselves as they crouch before Yuji’s body.

They look harmless enough, no older than her, and not to mention they look anxious.  So nothing about her blurry assumptions about them triggered any warning flags.

That was, until they pulled out a bag of fingers.  Unmistakable fingers.

She needs to get up now and she knows it.  She pleads with her body to move, wishing the throbbing hot pain in her left leg would disappear just long enough for her to get to Yuji, to stop these girls from what they’re about to do.

It’s unclear how much time lapses before she notices a third figure at Yuji’s body.  A curse.  And he seems to have a few fingers of his own, too.

No, her voice cries, but it’s only in her head.  You can’t do that.

She’s never felt so weak, her fingers barely twitching against the concrete when she’s trying to tell her body to get up.  She’s sure that means none of the rest of her limbs are moving.  She’s trapped there.

Her heart is pounding, her breaths are labored, dread consumes her so completely she’d throw up if there was anything left in her stomach.

It’s tough to count just how many fingers are shoved down Yuji’s throat before the curse is clamping his large hand over his mouth and forcing his head back in order to make the unconscious boy swallow every last one.  With tears in her eyes she knows it’s more than what’s safe, and there’s a turmoil in her gut as she doesn’t know how to feel about what comes next.

With her heart pounding in her ears she can’t tell what exactly the fighting amongst the curse users and the curse himself was about, but suddenly only the cycloptic curse remains standing over Yuji’s body.  He’s grunting and growling, still pushing the boy’s head back.  (y/n) wonders if he’s swallowed all those fingers by now.

These three were idiots.  But they were idiots stronger than her, and even if she’d had the strength to stop them, it would’ve been futile.

However, now, they hardly made her list of things to be afraid of in Shibuya.

The blood that’s pooled under Yuji’s body startles her- when did that get there? But after blinking a few times to clear her sight and focus just a fraction of a bit better, she realizes it’s not human blood at all, but that awful purple essence that leaves a stench behind.

“I’ll give you one second,” Comes the familiar voice that doesn’t belong to the body it erupts from.  “Move” 

In a flash, the small crowd around him is a good ten feet back.  (y/n) could almost laugh if her throat wasn’t bloodied raw.  They chose to wake him up with all those fingers, and now they’re visibly afraid of what they summoned themselves? They truly had no idea what they were in for now.

It only takes one glance towards her before Sukuna’s suddenly before her beaten form, crouching down to assess the damages.

“Now, which one of these insolent freaks did this to you?” He asks, tilting his head as his Reverse Cursed Technique took effect over her wounds with haste.  “I’ll start there” 

“N-none of them,” She stammers out, even though it’s the truth.

For the first time, she considers that she should be afraid of Sukuna.  The other three are still trembling even from their distance, barely letting themselves breathe in his presence.

All she’s ever felt towards Sukuna is irritation, perhaps mild vexation, but mostly he just confused her.  But now, she can feel the abundant amount of cursed energy wafting off of him, and despite his history in sparing her life and taking an interest in her, she briefly wonders if this is the moment he changes his mind.

The thought passes in a matter of seconds, when a pair of hands are gently aiding her in sitting upright.  Even with his technique healing her wounds, there are still aches and pains that make her wince.  Shards of glass falling from her skin as the healing tissue forces them out, bruises that still sting when she moves too quickly before their nasty colors disappear completely.

And Sukuna regards her with an expression she’s never seen before, but it makes her heart lurch in her chest.  It’s concern.  His brows are knotted, and his eyes are scanning over her repeatedly to make sure no injury was left on her body.  This was followed by sizable hands mapping over her carefully just to double check.

She should be afraid, but she’s not.  

In fact, as soon as those vermillion eyes return to hers, all she can feel is relief.

And she doesn’t think twice before she’s darting forward on achy knees, her arms wrapping around his neck and the rest of her body colliding into his so harsh it knocks the wind out of her for a moment, but she doesn’t mind panting to catch her breath again.  She embraces Sukuna as tightly as she can, as though he’s the only savior she’s ever known, an angel painted in pure white rather than the corrupted being he truly was.

Sukuna has half a mind to grab her by the neck and remove her from him with a snarl about how her injuries were still healing, but instead he wraps an arm around her, his hand smoothing over the tattered back of her uniform.

She could only imagine what the three at the end of the corridor were thinking, watching the King of Curses embrace such a weak sorcerer.

“You understand now, don’t you sweetheart?” He asks her quietly, and she manages a small nod against his chest, before her hands tighten into fists at the red hood that lies between his shoulder blades.  “It’s been a rough night, hasn’t it?” He muses, and when (y/n) doesn’t give him a response this time, he uses his free hand to pry her face away from his shirt, hooking her chin under his finger so that she’d meet his eyes.

Rough night didn’t even begin to cover what she’d been put through, what was she supposed to say? 

“It’s alright now, my love, I’m here,” 

Those words from him shouldn’t bring her the amount of comfort that they do.  The tears in her eyes begin to drip down her cheeks.  Sukuna’s smiling as he brushes them away, and despite her better judgment, she leans into the touch, seeking out even more comfort.  He chuckles at the sight, but humors her as he cups the side of her face in his palm, cradling her head with the gentleness of holding a flower by it’s petals.

She won’t admit it, not now anyways, but she knows deep down that there is no force on this earth greater than the swell of love in her chest right now.  It’s something she’s not sure should ever be voiced, but she has a feeling that Sukuna will find a way to draw it out of her anyways.  Just as he’s made her trust him, just as he’s made her confide in him, he’s bound to find a way into drawing the confession out of her as well.

Perhaps it’s her own fault, too.  Hiding the way a part of her believed everything he’s ever said to her, hiding the way it made her feel to know that she was so loved by a force so strong and unstoppable that he’d scour the earth after every lifetime in order to find her again.

I think the feelings you have for me in every beginning come from your soul’s memory, he’d said.  But I think deep down, you know that you trust me.

She stares at him now knowing all of this to be true, and Sukuna can almost see every thought in her dilated eyes, swallowed nearly whole by dark pupils as she clings to him now.

With a brush of his lips to the crown of her head, he makes her a promise that she’ll live through this horrid night yet.

She still holds onto him when he stands, and he lifts her up with ease, cradling her to his chest like she was merely a small and frightened child.  The only unease she felt now was knowing what fates were in store for the three at the end of the hall, who Sukuna had set his sights on first.

“Now, let’s take this one on together, sweetheart, shall we?” 

Her own fate was still unknown to her, but sealed in place long ago.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ cause i love to love to love to love you // i hate to hate to hate to hate you ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

xoxo ~ jordie

a/n: thinkin about writing a snippet of their past live(s) or something. i wanted to add something like that to this fic but i wanted the reader to feel unsure if they really could trust him soooo it went a diff route. idk don't hold me to it. i'm just a girl.

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #ryomen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #ryomen sukuna imagine #sukuna imagine #jjk imagine #jujutsu kaisen imagine

[onlyjaeyun]

i’ve been following ur writing for some time now and i do have to agree with that anon who said you did CH dirty. you are a very talented writer so it’s just hard to watch.

you started off CH so strong with the lore and little chapters here and there but as it progressed you kind of just got lazy and it shows. when important events happened in the story, they weren’t conveyed through writing but through the texts (ie the riki and yn fight, that was definitely worth a written chapter) and it was honestly disappointing.

the ending isn’t much to say about either. yn and hoon barely go through development after the letter incident and all of a sudden they’re dating and married with a kid like two chapters later?

idk, if it was a mental health issue then i get that but even then you should’ve just gave it a break and thought everything out more. you could do so much better.

thank you for the feedback!

i wanna put you through the progess of a piece of writing from the POV of a writer okay? now keep in mind: i work two jobs, am a fulltime uni student and the daughter of an immigrant household with two parents who still work most of the day just so you know what else i have to deal with, besides my mental health okay?

now, i started off CH strong right? yes. i uploaded on the daily, fine i chose that. a chapter usually takes me around one hour if i actually sit down and focus on nothing but the chapter itself, which includes IG stories, editing, formatting etc. alright

on top of the daily chapters, i constantly replied to 40+ asks a day, a blessing in disguise because no matter how much i enjoy talking to you guys, the pressure does get worse the bigger that number of my inbox becomes, i hope this makes sense

now, i started CH back in october, right when my semester started, thats why i started off strong but as time went on, my assignments and private life got too busy and i guess i felt entitled enough as a writer to skip a few certain chaps and make life a little easier for me by making them regular chapters instead of written ones.

and this is gonna be my main point: i'm not a machine. i wrote a minimum of 5 THOUSAND words per written chapter, MINIMUM. we're talking about a 5-9 THOUSANDED worded chapter EACH WEEK. which usually took me about 6-7 hours, even allnighters.

yes, i chose to do that and maybe my time management wasn't the best but i had to create a compromise where i wouldnt have let you guys wait for over two months which would have resulted in me losing my motivation completely, and yet still focusing on EXAMS. because you know, i'm a fulltime uni student with TWO jobs 😮‍💨

if YOU think i did CH dirty go write an alternative ending yourself but it should be a minimum of 15 chapters including 5 written ones, with at LEAST 9k words each yeah? i wanna see you manage it all, pls prove me wrong snd show me you're better than me i'm genuinely begging bc it might inspire me to do "better" next time.

as a writer/artist/creator, and i can tell you probably arent one yourself or havent been one for long, the longer smth takes to come to an end the worse the pressure becomes which results in a blockage i dont wish upon my worst enemy i'm being deadass. i dealt with some of the worst writer's block ive had since i started writing literally 12 years ago and you're telling me i should have just "taken a break" and do "better"

i never, ever expected anything from anyone but some of you are so entitled to a writer's time and skill it's giving me a headache. maybe you didn't like the timing and writing of the last few chapters of CH and i guess that's unfortunate but this was so unnecessary because you completely dismissed everything else that could have been going on in my life and even belittled my mental health issues like im some fucking AI writing machine

do better, be nicer, write it yourself if you don't like it i'm so fucking over this

if i had gotten out of my own comfort and wellbeing and have actually written another set of written chapters i would have burned myself completely out. ive been in this fandom for not even a year and have already finished FOUR smaus with 50 chapters each, you do NOT get to tell me what i should or could have done better because you dont even give a fuck about me as a person this is just about receiving what YOU think YOURE entitled to but this is MY art and I will do what I see fit even if it's not what was expected of it because i'm a fucking human being with a life before i'm a writer on tumblr

oh, also: i do this for free ㅤ:) just a reminder :) this is my HOBBY :)

and don't you EVER call me lazy again when it comes to writing because i'm not gonna pour my heart and soul into a fic just for you to call me lazy when i literally wrote 50 THOUSAND words for this fucking fic just for the written chapters

goodbye

#; mailbox 📬 #; cold hearts

[bread-tab]

okay random 4am rant time, don't take it too seriously, but: people need to recognize there's a difference between "bad worldbuilding" and "worldbuilding styles you personally don't like."

bad worldbuilding is, for example: internally inconsistent, bigoted, or something else that messes up the plot or characterization of the story itself. sloppy. careless.

things that are *not* bad worldbuilding:

minimalism.

i've been thinking about this in the first place because i saw a post about the Murderbot Diaries a while back (don't know who made it, don't care; this ain't personal) saying the worldbuilding in those books is bad and lazy. to me, as an avid sci-fi reader and writer, that is clearly not true. but i understood why they thought this. the series uses extremely minimalist worldbuilding which intentionally withholds a lot of detail, in a way that is consistent with the (nonhuman, robot, depressed robot) first-person POV. this could also be a feature of the author's writing style in general—i haven't read her other works—but i wouldn't bet too much on it.

the signature of intentional minimalism is that there *are* details about the speculative setting—they're just doled out very thoughtfully and sparingly. the intent is to leave you a little hungry for more. it's to make you think very carefully about the details you do have. this is best suited to stories that already have elements of psychological and/or mystery plot types. the worldbuilding you do see should still be believable, internally consistent, and have interesting implications if you think about it a bit. but you are for sure going to have to think harder to get it.

if you're not in the mood, i will concede, a minimalist style definitely comes off as a bit dry. if you are in the mood, it's relaxing.

whimsy.

this is a big one for sci-fi fans in particular. see: the constant debate about whether any particular story is "hard" or "soft" sci-fi, and whether soft sci-fi is bad, etc etc. but worldbuilding doesn't have to be realistic to be good. you're allowed to have Jedi and humanoid aliens and time travel in your sci-fi. you're allowed to have historical anachronisms and astrology and po-ta-toes in your fantasy. whether or not they're silly isn't the deciding factor on how "good" these worldbuilding elements really are.

the key thing is tonal consistency. you've got a serious high-fantasy setting with its own strict, un-Earth-like theology and magic system, and you throw Santa Claus in there? yeah, that's not gonna land well. but C.S. Lewis can get away with that in Narnia just fine. why? because the Chronicles of Narnia are whimsical children's stories with a strong Christian/Western mythological influence already, and their central conceit is a crossover between the mundane world and the magical world. of course Santa can cross over too. it's whimsical, but it's not actually random. (and if you ventured into straight-up comedy, you could get away with random too. as long as it's funny.)

the unreliable narrator.

i don't have a good example for this off the top of my head (maybe Murderbot again? idk, i'm sleepy, fill in your own) but i'll tell you how to recognize when this is done well.

by definition, an unreliable narrator has some key misconceptions about their own world. so how do you tell what's going on as a reader? how do you know the writer isn't equally confused?

you connect the dots. solve the puzzle. in practice this is similar to reading a minimalist setting—but instead of just sparse clues, you also have a boatload of red herrings. you can catch some of these misleading details by comparing them to your real-world knowledge and saying "wait, this doesn't add up." other times, the false clues intentionally trick you by subverting those real world expectations.

the trick is in the consequences. regardless of what the narrator says, their actions should still have logical consequences. there should be things going on that the POV character doesn't know about. the character will be forced to learn and adapt their narrative because of these shifting circumstances. you can catch them in a lie. the inconsistencies themselves tell a story.

...

i'm gonna stop myself there because this post is long and i oughtta be sleeping. just. this is a distinction worth making. is it really bad worldbuilding, or is it simply not the genre you're craving today? learn the difference for your own sake. you'll have an easier time realizing if a story is something you'll find enjoyable to read, regardless of its actual quality.

#long post #writing #worldbuilding #media literacy #media analysis #the murderbot diaries #the chronicles of narnia #Christianity mention #rant #sleep deprived

[professorhayforbreath]

so episode 5. all my thoughts

we picked up where the last one left off, good start

annabeth saying she knows percy isn't dead... how. to annabeth and grover there should have been no way percy was alive and finding out he was should've been so emotional but instead she was like dw i know he's not dead lol. it's kind of... lazy writing? like how are you gonna write a scene as gut wrenching as percy trapping himself with a monster and telling his friends to complete the quest without him because he's actively dying and has no reason to believe he'll survive, and then make the fallout of that so... nonchalant? idk if it's a time limit thing but that was so underwhelming to me

annabeth being the one to see the fates... no

fugitive percy enjoyers at least we won!!!!

the trio peeking over the road barrier at ares was cute goofy silly i liked that :)

gabe on the news shit talking percy i'm hooting and hollering!! "i really-- WE really loved that car" and "i'm gonna kill him". excellent. now put percy on the news fake crying about his "loving" stepfather i believe in you

i did want them to acknowledge annabeth's lack of experience with the world outside camp but having her say "i've never seen any kind of movie" has gotta be one of the weirdest ways they could've done that

the turnstile scene was cool i guess but as we go on i'm more and more conscious of how many episodes are left and how much plot there is to get through and idk i feel like this scene could've hit the cutting room floor and we wouldn't have lost anything

i do love the ambience of the park though. maybe i'm easy to impress because the aesthetic of an abandoned amusement park is just fantastic on its own but the set was very cool. wish it wasn't so dark so i could've actually seen it ❤️

percy and annabeth having a serious conversation with 'what is love' blaring in the background is sending me

first ever seaweed brain dropped! i liked the way they did it, it felt natural

actually back to the "i've never seen a movie" thing. you're telling me that in this version of the story, in which frederick chase was apparently a great dad who treated annabeth like a gift, he never took her to the movies? or she never watched one on tv? she had a whole seven years of life in the real world before going to camp and she's never seen a movie

annabeth isn't allowed to have fears she's too smart for that apparently

i think the scene with the chair was overall well executed with some great lines and fantastic acting but... idk. they really scrapped the original scene just to do what they already did last episode. i miss the spiders i miss hephaestus tv. it felt redundant to have percy sacrifice himself again. percy this is the second time today you've been like "no dw i'll just die" do you need to talk to someone

annabeth disillusionment arc complete already? calm down guys this is season one

ZOO TRUCK ZOO TRUCK ZOO TR

so it's confirmed the reason they go into the lotus casino is BECAUSE hermes is there :/ they said these literal children cannot fall for tricks and traps it's too unrealistic

not much to say about the grover and ares scenes bc i don't know what to make of them. i didn't mind them. ares had some funny lines. i guess my only complaint is that the grover i know would not have been so calm talking to the god of war. i'm curious to see where that cliffhanger leads

is it just me or did the pacing improve a little bit this episode?

despite how negative i sound i enjoyed episode 5 a lot more than episode 4. there are still so many weird changes, additions, and omissions though. honestly i think a big part of the reason i enjoyed this one is because i'm not expecting anything anymore. i'm not getting my hopes up about them adapting the book normally i'm just intrigued by this thing like a scientist observing an experiment. like hmm what are they doing now? fascinating *takes notes*

#sorry this is so long lol #pjo #percy jackson #pjo series #pjo tv show #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo tv spoilers #pjo spoilers #percy jackson show #pjo tv crit #pjo adaptation #pjo tv series #pjo show

[gt-jar]

Here's a very loose story concept, because I'm too lazy to write it myself.

To make things easier I'll use A for the tiny character and B for the giant character again. (A is a human in this)

So... reluctant companions!

A and B are forced to travel together for one reason or another. I don't really have a specific reason in mind. The reason why they travel together isn't really important for the plot anyway.

I was just thinking of a certain... ~vibe~, yk?

Like maybe A isn't too upset about traveling with B, or maybe A choose to travel with B, because A is seeking protection (which B doesn't know). From what? Also not really important.

What's important is that B isn't too fond of A in the beginning.

Maybe humans and giants just don't mix, or at least it isn't common. Maybe giants view humans as inferoir. Or maybe B just has a personal grudge against humans. Whatever.

My point is, B can't get rid of A.

You get the gist.

So after their situation is more or less established, let's get to the little scenario I was actually thinking about.

Obviously, they are sleeping under the night sky. When the sun goes down, it gets really chilly. While the cold doesn't affect B as much, because of their size, A is freezing.

In an attempt to stay warm A sneaks over to B, after they have fallen asleep (B, in fact, isn't asleep). Just after A has settled against B's side/shoulder/neck, B pushes A away with the back of their hand and rolls over, putting as much distance between them as possible. Maybe B also says something mean or passive aggressive. Making it clear B doesn't want anything to do with A.

A gets the message and doesn't try something like this again.

A similar scenario:

A isn't used to sleeping outside, the sounds of the night are unfamiliar, not having any sort of shelter doesn't help either. Because of that A is too scared to fall asleep. Thus sleep deprivation.

(Both scenarios take place in this story)

Time goes by and.... B gets used to A's presence. Slowly. Fond, someone might even say (again too lazy to think of a reason). Eventually B notices A's lack of sleep.

And here's the scene, that's the reason for this whole post:

B has settled down for the night already. A desperately wants to as well. They are so tired, but every time they close their eyes and try to fall asleep, a new sound startles them wide awake. B is sleeping several feet away from them, sometimes B's presence helps. Being close to B gives A a sense of safety, but A doesn't dare to move closer, they know what will happen, if they do. Instead, A curls into a ball, trying to block out the sounds, which doesn't help either. A is about to give up on trying to fall asleep altogether, when a giant arm reaches over them and pulls them close. Now, caged between B's chest and arm, A doesn't dare to move a muscle. Is B still asleep? Should they climb over B's arm, before B accidentally crushes them in their sleep? Or-?

"Sleep," B says in a hushed almost gentle tone, "You're save here."

Ever so slowly, A relaxes. For the first time in weeks A feels... save. Protected. Here, completely surrounded by B's body, nothing can hurt them. It's warmer as well.

In the morning A will wonder when and why B has changed their mind about them, but for now they are way too tired.

Before sleep claims A's mind, they whisper a quiet 'thank you', only audible for B's ears.

The last thing A feels is B pulling them a tiny bit closer.

#giant/tiny #g/t #g/t community #g/t prompt #g/t prompts

[not-poignant]

@morbidlizard replied to your post “Can I ask, why do you love BL romance better than...”:

I mean it's unfortunate but asian BL is just hands down better than western for so many reasons <: / I've been reading asian BL for literal decades now (AHHH) and I can maybe count on one hand the western series I've enjoyed that had some sort of queer romance that had all I wanted or at least a part of the tropes I like...And even then, it's usually F/F relationships 9_9 (and when I say asian, I mean japanese, korean, chinese, some indonesian too! etc etc...)

​Actually yeah this is also really where it's at

I think a lot about how we're still getting extremely like... milquetoast wholesome queer narratives (most of the time) in western m/m romance media (I have nothing against Heartstopper, but it's extremely 'all queer people are pure wholesome need-to-be-protected jellybeans' and like, cool, but I want more than that as well - like give me 20 shows that are 'all queer people' in 20 different genres, thanks. BL will give me that - BL will pay people to give me that.

The only way I can get that from western media is fanfiction, and sometimes - kind of - from published m/m, when it's not paint-by-numbers rapid release that isn't about telling stories from the heart and it's about telling stories from the bank account instead (which is a valid reason to write, it's just not what I'm looking for as a reader - most readers who end up loving and writing fanfiction aren't looking for this imho)).

Thomas Baudinette is actually doing incredible work in this area of Media Studies, where it's literally a known thing that BL - particularly in countries like Korea, Thailand and Taiwan - is actually taking huge strides ahead in the genre, comparatively, especially when up against western BL.

It almost feels like we're on a giant lag, buffering behind them, and about the only place we aren't is in fanfiction, which makes sense, because the cross-pollination between fandom and south-east Asian BL is incredible (literally, they got omegaverse and guide-verse from western fanfiction and western fandom, and imho are doing a lot more with it for money than we are, see: Pit Babe).

I've been reading up pretty heavily into Baudinette's work, and also a lot of the recent and up-to-date work in BL Studies (a thing), and like, it's just kind of fascinating the different interrogations of BL we have going on in different cultures and subcultures, and how different senses of place and culture and ethnicity and minority and belonging can influence our tales, along with many different manifestations of capitalisation, economy, influence etc.

And that isn't to say there aren't huge problematic areas for BL in all countries, not just western, I can critique western BL so easily because I am western, and it's been really interesting reading critiques of BL from academics who live within other countries from their perspectives too. But I do think if I want really great BL romances, turning to fanfiction and then turning to other cultures and what they're doing is often the first thing I do. I just don't have to search as hard to find what I'm looking for. And like, I'm lazy, lol, I don't want to search through 100 published works to find like 1-5 stories I might reread but not over my favourite manhwa or like fanfiction or whatever.

This has been my area of like... personal study for a few months now (literally reading Regimes of Desire: Young Gay Men, Media and Masculinity in Tokyo by Baudinette atm) and I have a lot of thoughts of which this is just a very generalised ramble and not actually anything of great meaning but like sadkljfas TL;DR yeah

#morbidlizard #idk how to categorise this but #pia on media studies #i do think it's really incredible that we get Pit Babe in part because #western fanfiction exists #what korea and thailand and other countries are doing with omegaverse #i just think hollywood and indie movie studios in the west are fucking cowards #run largely by puritanical evangelistic supremacists #and that other countries are seeing that actually omegaverse could spin them a LOT of money #in the mass media #already #absolutely wild

[jozor-johai]

Dorne, Shown not Told: how Darkstar is more than his reputation.

Darkstar used to bug me as a character—not necessarily because of his edgy dialogue, but because the way he was written: he's not on-page for very long, so we're really told much more about him than we are shown anything.

I've seen this same complaint voiced before, and almost always it's brushed over as an inherent failure of Gerold as a character, or other arguments that presuppose a lack of faith in Martin.

I can understand why, without deeper analysis, some people try to make the Doylist argument that Darkstar must be lazy writing by Martin, something along the lines of "I have to introduce this guy quick, so here's a bunch of backstory told by a bunch of characters". Instead, though, I argue that this situation of being "told" so much about Darkstar is actually the Watsonian perspective of his character; it is Arianne who has been told so much about him, and we're experiencing her misconceptions.

I've come to realize that the feeling of being "told" about Darkstar, with a focus away from what we're "shown," is fully intentional. With this different approach to interpreting Darkstar's character, I've found that not only do I like him so much more as a character in-universe, but I also like him so much more as an element in George R R Martin's writing. Melisandre might be his "most misunderstood character," but I think Gerold Dayne must be up there too.

I don't understand why it took me so long to see it: ASOIAF is all about the way that information—or misinformation—spreads and changes the course of action and history. Of course this would be a theme to look out for. Once I started to dig more into this idea in relation to Darkstar, I realized just how prevalent this theme was in the Dornish arc, which is entirely about the way that people are told something, and the way that being told these things—even without evidence—has such an impact. That's what the companion post to this one is about.

If you've read that post already, and now I've got you on board to doubt the reputation that Darkstar has, and to doubt the story Arianne was told about him, this is the post where I rebuild Gerold's character from scratch, and convince you that he's actually an alright guy, a trustworthy one, and possibly even a true knight. Maybe, even, he's worthy of Dawn, and the title of "Sword of the Morning."

I'm sure I'm not the first to suggest this, as it's been so many years, but it's exciting to experience a moment of realization that makes me see the writing itself in a new light, so I wanted to share my thought process here.

2.0 Gerold Dayne, shown not told.

In this part, I attempt to look at Gerold Dayne as if I were Areo Hotah, not Arianne: to watch what he does and says, on page, rather than take anyone's word for it, and rather than interpret his actions against a prejudice that he is as dark and dangerous as Arianne thinks. This way, I want to see what kind of man Gerold Dayne actually shows us he is, through his actions and interactions, rather than who we're told he is.

Beyond just doubting Doran's story because I don't believe Doran to be trustworthy, here I'll be explaining why I think that once we get to know Darkstar as best as we can, maiming Myrcella doesn't even really sound like something he would do.

This is a long one too, like the other one, so the rest is after the cut

2.1 Early good impressions—by being early

We don't see very much of Darkstar on-page, so let's start with our very first impression of him, in the second paragraph of the chapter:

Arianne Martell arrived with Drey and Sylva just as the sun was going down, with the west a tapestry of gold and purple and the clouds all glowing crimson. The ruins seemed aglow as well; the fallen columns glimmered pinkly, red shadows crept across the cracked stone floors, and the sands themselves turned from gold to orange to purple as the light faded. Garin had arrived a few hours earlier, and the knight called Darkstar the day before.

We don't know when they arranged to meet, but I think there's room for a symbolic meaning to Arianne arriving just as the sun goes down. Symbolically, the day ending as soon as she arrives mirrors the way that her plan is going to end as soon as it begins.

In addition, it's a signature of Arianne's character this chapter, moving just slightly too slowly. In this way, Arianne is already more like her father than she wants to admit—remember the overripe oranges falling in The Captain of the Guards, or how Areo knew that Doran saying they would leave at dawn meant midday. Arianne is the same—she arrives to her own plan at dusk.

Even without that comparison, Arianne's late arrival is emblematic of her inability to structure a plan as carefully as she believes she can, which is also something that haunts her for the rest of his arc. Consider the meaning of this for her: she is the head of this plan, and yet she and her two companions are the last to arrive. Garin beats her to the rendezvous place by a few hours... and Darkstar is almost the opposite extreme. He gets there a whole day early.

Perhaps that's suspect, perhaps that's responsible; this alone is not enough to say. For a certainty, though, this clearly positions Darkstar as someone who is, say, the opposite of the "Late" Lord Walder Frey. He's a man who comes early, not late.

As the chapter continues, it's not the only time that Arianne lags carelessly while Darkstar vouches for a more responsible course of action, so keep this in mind. This passage sets the tone for the rest of the chapter.

2.2 What makes a man "Great"?

The next time we see Darkstar on page, we get his first line of dialogue and his first actual on-page action. He juts in while the others are talking about the storied hero who is Garin's namesake:

"Garin the Great," offered Drey, "the wonder of the Rhoyne." "That's the one. He made Valyria tremble." "They trembled," said Ser Gerold, "then they killed him. If I led a quarter of a million men to death, would they call me Gerold the Great?" He snorted. "I shall remain Darkstar, I think. At least it is mine own." He unsheathed his longsword, sat upon the lip of the dry well, and began to hone the blade with an oilstone.

There's a lot to unpack here for such a short passage. To begin with, we can interpret some of Darkstar's values from his additions to this conversation. He clearly has a certain pragmatism, because he chooses to see through the veneration that the stories have afforded "Garin the Great", and points out that his cause was actually poorly met. In this way, Gerold might come off like a humorless spoilsport, but we can also consider the fact that he's already learned some of the lessons that other characters, like Sansa, have been forced to face: reality does not match the songs, and not all "heroes" are good people.

Gerold also shows a concern for the ranks of the military. It's not about one man's veneration for him, it's about the success of the plan—and the survival of the men who act on it. This is actually the same concern for Dorne that Doran is obsessed with, at the end of The Watcher:

"Until the Mountain crushed my brother's skull, no Dornishmen had died in this War of the Five Kings," the prince murmured softly, as Hotah pulled a blanket over him. "Tell me, Captain, is that my shame or my glory?"

Doran has spent a lifetime hemming and hawing over this notion, unsure of whether to act or to wait, and choosing inaction over decision. By stark contrast, Gerold speaks with a casual certainty: "Garin the Great" was no good at all, because all his men died, and he lost. It might make him sound like a cynic, but Dayne knows what he believes in. Leading men to their death is no greatness at all.

2.3 Choosing one's own name

And, now knowing his thoughts on blind veneration, we might reinterpret his decision to invent his own nickname. Rather than grasping for approval from in songs (like Tywin's Rains of Castamere), his act of naming himself could be seen as a sign of honor, not blind pride.

"If I led a quarter of a million men to death, would they call me Gerold the Great?" He snorted. "I shall remain Darkstar, I think. At least it is mine own."

He does not believe in misjudged "bravery" for the sake of a title, and therefore is unlike so many others who we see across ASOIAF ready to die fighting in their desire for glory. Rather than dreaming of becoming immortalized in a song, Darkstar has no lust for public approval—he's given himself his own title, and means to prove himself against his own standard.

And at least it is his own. ASOIAF is a story where so much weight is put into names and epithets—Arya and Sansa losing their names and even their chapter titles, Brienne and Jaime fighting against the disparaging nicknames they are given. Here, Darkstar has already proven himself past all of those troubles with this one action—regardless of whatever names others should call him, or even remember him by, he shall go by this one, the name, and the fate, that he chose for himself.

2.4 Honing the blade

And then, immediately, Gerold starts caring for his blade.

He unsheathed his longsword, sat upon the lip of the dry well, and began to hone the blade with an oilstone.

Interestingly, the list of people who hone their blade on-page is surprisingly short. This shared action puts Gerold in league with the likes of Brienne:

I will, she promised his shade, there in the piney wood. She sat down on a rock, took out her sword, and began to hone its edge. I will remember, and I pray I will not flinch.

And also the likes of Yoren, Arya, Jon, Meera, Barristan, and Hotah himself; all of whom are dutiful if not also generally good-hearted. Ilyn Payne and Rakharo, care for their blades on-page, too, and though I'm not sure if they get enough story time to argue whether or not they are good-hearted, they are certainly pragmatic, skilled, and committed. Bronn, too, hones his blade on-page, and even if not good-hearted, he's these other positive qualities, the ones that make him likeable even in his scoundrel status: Bronn is skilled, pragmatic, dedicated to his craft, and even committed after his own fashion (he does name his adoptive child Tyrion, after all).

Better tying this to a morality case, the first time we see Sandor Clegane caring for his blade is after the Red Wedding, after he fully commits to taking in Arya. Similarly, Jaime is only seen caring for his blade in Feast and later, after he begins to have his own character turn towards searching for honor.

In stark contrast, Theon pulls out his blade to "sharpen" it before facing his father in Clash, but he only "gave it a few licks" with the whetstone ... what a total poser.

(It's a silly thing, but the most minor character we see sharpening a blade is a stray Blackwood... so you know these are the good guys, haha. Oswell Whent, too, which I don't make much of myself but I know others have.)

So, when we see Gerold Dayne start to sharpen his blade as his first on-page action, we might think: here is a man who is responsible, who is committed to duty, who believes in taking care of his person and his honor. Tying little actions like this to character qualities is the kind of thing GRRM does frequently.

2.5 Sober attitude

To a similar end, we also see that Gerold Dayne doesn't drink, preferring water with lemon.

Once the kindling caught, they sat around the flames and passed a skin of summerwine from hand to hand . . . all but Darkstar, who preferred to drink unsweetened lemonwater.

Which puts him in league with Brienne again:

"I would prefer water," said Brienne. "Elmar, the red for Ser Jaime, water for the Lady Brienne, and hippocras for myself." Bolton waved a hand at their escort, dismissing them, and the men beat a silent retreat.

As well as Stannis, paragon of "duty":

But not today, I think—ah, here's your son with our water." Devan set the tray on the table and filled two clay cups. The king sprinkled a pinch of salt in his cup before he drank; Davos took his water straight, wishing it were wine.

Again, this is the kind of quality that is associated with people who are attached to their sense of duty. (Note also that as Brienne feels increasingly lost during her search for Sansa, we see her increasingly drink wine. Roose, for his part, doesn't just drink wine, but wants wine sweetened with sugar and spices, which, like Littlefinger's minty breath, covers up his harsh reality).

So Gerold Dayne, in word and action, seems to have more in common with duty- and honor-bound characters, rather than being the heartless rogue which the Martells seem to believe he is.

2.6 Arianne's imagination versus Gerold's reality

Arianne asserts that Gerold would go so far as to exterminate an entire clan... but it's while she's fantasizing about ruling Sunspear with Myrcella as Queen:

Once I crown Myrcella and free the Sand Snakes, all Dorne will rally to my banners. The Yronwoods might declare for Quentyn, but alone they were no threat. If they went over to Tommen and the Lannisters, she would have Darkstar destroy them root and branch.

So we know what Arianne thinks he's capable of, but we also have heard Dayne's own thoughts that war for its own sake is not laudable. Would he really be the type to eradicate a whole family, like Arianne says? So far, he seems otherwise like an alright guy, and potentially even a true knight, so far: he takes care of his sword, he stays sober, he arrives early, he's not searching for glory from others, and he doesn't believe one should be rewarded for idiotic wars.

If I were to put this in a single quote—if I could create a single moment where I might show that Arianne's mental image of Darkstar is one way (hard, dangerous, mean) and his reality was a different way (dutiful, pragmatic, and good-hearted)—I might show it like this:

He has a cruel mouth, though, and a crueler tongue. His eyes seemed black as he sat outlined against the dying sun, sharpening his steel, but she had looked at them from a closer vantage and she knew that they were purple. Dark purple. Dark and angry. He must have felt her gaze upon him, for he looked up from his sword, met her eyes, and smiled.

Does he have a cruel mouth, and dark, angry eyes? Or does he have an easy smile? Arianne tells us the former... but so far, we are shown the latter.

And what does Gerold himself say with that "cruel tongue"? What counsel does he give, what courses does he suggest?

2.7 Gerold's bloody suggestion

Before Myrcella arrives, Gerold Dayne has the chance to offer counsel to Arianne. This moment comes directly following that moment where all of Arianne's other conspirators confide that they don't trust him, and that they don't need him for the plan. Immediately afterward, Darkstar returns and suggests that the plan isn't very good to begin with.

Dayne put a foot upon the head of a statue that might have been the Maiden till the sands had scoured her face away. "It occurred to me as I was pissing that this plan of yours may not yield you what you want."

While all of Arianne's friends have warned her of Darkstar, why is it that Darkstar is the only one to warn Arianne that this is a poor plan? It's important to remember that he's right, after all, because this plan gets thwarted, and as he goes on to say, was ill-concieved to begin with. If he can see it, why have none of Arianne's other allies considered this? Or, more interestingly, why have none of them told her?

This conversation continues, and notice how Arianne is never straightforward with Gerold about how she feels in response to his questioning. She says one thing, and then thinks another to herself. Already, we are being shown how we might be distrustful of what we are told—and again, Arianne has more in common with her father than she thinks. She knows how to speak carefully when she really has another objective.

"And what is it I want, ser?" "The Sand Snakes freed. Vengeance for Oberyn and Elia. Do I know the song? You want a little taste of lion blood." That, and my birthright. I want Sunspear, and my father's seat. I want Dorne. "I want justice." "Call it what you will. Crowning the Lannister girl is a hollow gesture. She will never sit the Iron Throne. Nor will you get the war you want. The lion is not so easily provoked." "The lion's dead. Who knows which cub the lioness prefers?" "The one in her own den." Ser Gerold drew his sword. It glimmered in the starlight, sharp as lies. "This is how you start a war. Not with a crown of gold, but with a blade of steel."

At first blush, it's easy to get caught up in the notion that Darkstar is simply offering to kill Myrcella for the ease of it all. We're told the whole chapter that Darkstar is a violent man, and here's the evidence.

Arianne herself only considers this interpretation, and it's how she remembers the conversation once she's imprisoned:

He wanted to kill her instead of crowning her, he said as much at Shandystone. He said that was how I'd get the war I wanted.

However, this conversation, though brief, is not so simple as that. Instead, while Gerold's advice to Arianne here at first seems unnecessarily violent, he's actually displaying wisdoms that we learn elsewhere in the story.

For a start, we see Gerold's disdain for vengeance for it's own sake—and his suggestion to Arianne that this quest of revenge and authority will not actually get her what she wants. In Gerold's words, she wants "a taste of lion's blood." He knows this song, as he says, as well as Ellaria, who gives an identical warning with far more impassioned language to the same audience ADWD The Watcher:

"Oberyn wanted vengeance for Elia. Now the three of you want vengeance for him. I have four daughters, I remind you. Your sisters. My Elia is fourteen, almost a woman. Obella is twelve, on the brink of maidenhood. They worship you, as Dorea and Loreza worship them. If you should die, must El and Obella seek vengeance for you, then Dorea and Loree for them? Is that how it goes, round and round forever? I ask again, where does it end?" Ellaria Sand laid her hand on the Mountain's head. "I saw your father die. Here is his killer. Can I take a skull to bed with me, to give me comfort in the night? Will it make me laugh, write me songs, care for me when I am old and sick?"

Gerold says it more simply, and more harshly: this quest for vengeance and lion's blood will not get you what you want.

He then tries another angle, saying that "Crowning the Lannister girl is a hollow gesture. She will never sit the Iron Throne. Nor will you get the war you want." This sounds, at first, like a complaint of the plan's futility, but he offers a suggestion of how to achieve said war instead: "Not with a crown of gold, but with a blade of steel."

I have to point out the metaphor at use in this moment:

Ser Gerold drew his sword. It glimmered in the starlight, sharp as lies.

A blade as sharp as lies—yet another allusion to this constant Dornish theme of lying and deadly misinformation. Seen from another perspective, we might put it another way: that lies are as deadly as a blade. This, too, is Doran's message: that the grass which hides the snake is just as deadly.

This too is Gerold's message, because in combination, his suggestion that crowning her is empty and to kill her is simpler sounds like an allusion to another wisdom we learn later in ADWD Tyrion I, given by Illyrio when Tyrion alights on the same bright idea as Arianne, to crown Myrcella:

"In Volantis they use a coin with a crown on one face and a death's-head on the other. Yet it is the same coin. To queen her is to kill her."

Gerold understands this, and he displays it in this conversation. His offer here, then, is to skip the trouble in between—the girl will never sit the Iron Throne in any case, so Arianne should just kill her and be done with it, and have your war that way.

Rather than a threat against Myrcella's life, the way Arianne remembers it, we might see this as a challenge: if Gerold sees that both acts end in Myrcella's death, and both in war, he's presenting Arianne reality of the lack of choice.

In a way, this is consistent with his earlier complaints about Garin the Great—was it worth it to make Valyria "tremble" at the cost of so many of his own? Gerold's question, though harshly put, makes Arianne face that question now, before they start off with the plans.

Like her father, though, Arianne defers the problem, preferring not to address it this night.

I am no murderer of children. "Put that away. Myrcella is under my protection. And Ser Arys will permit no harm to come to his precious princess, you know that."

Arianne makes the choice, but she does not say it aloud. Why? Because even she sees that it's contradictory to raise her up and expect her to live?

As we see so often with Arianne, she foolishly answers that it's not her responsibility. Myrcella may be under her protection, but Arianne relies on Ser Arys' action to keep it that way. Arianne tries to argue that the weight of this threat to Myrcella is not Arianne's burden to take, but rather Arys'.

Darkstar disagrees, pointing out the longstanding rivalry between the Dornish and the Marcher Lords.

"No, my lady. What I know is that Daynes have been killing Oakhearts for several thousand years." His arrogance took her breath away. "It seems to me that Oakhearts have been killing Daynes for just as long." "We all have our family traditions." Darkstar sheathed his sword. "The moon is rising, and I see your paragon approaching."

Finally, though, actions once again speak louder than words. Rather than pull his sword here against Arys, like he was just threatening to do, he sheathes his sword when he spots Arys, obeying Arianne's command. So far, whatever he's said, Gerold is still committed to following Arianne's wishes.

His threats about Daynes killing Oakhearts has another layer of meaning, though, in this complete context: Daynes have been killing Oakhearts, yes, but it's not just Daynes who wouldn't blink at killing a Marcher, it's all of the Dornish—as Arys is so intimately aware of in his one chapter.

As much as Arianne is dodging responsibility, she's also right that Arys is the final obstacle in anyone's way should they wish to do harm to Myrcella. Note, though, that despite the story Doran and Arianne later tell the Sand Snakes, it is not Darkstar who slays Arys—it's Areo Hotah. If we say that actions speak louder than words, hear this: Gerold sheathes his sword when Arys approaches, and it is Doran (through Areo) who kills Myrcella's most leal protector.

Given all the trouble Doran later goes to in an attempt to smooth over Arys' death, Gerold is probably right here that a dead Arys means war. Once again, Gerold is a pragmatic thinker, in theory. In my opinion, despite the cruelty of his suggestion, his conversation about the death of Myrcella is a reality check, not a call for wanton violence.

2.8 Gerold's good counsel and care

Later comes the second time where Arianne lags carelessly... and here, Gerold steps in to give Arianne good counsel.

Arianne had hoped to reach the river before the sun came up, but they had started much later than she'd planned, so they were still in the saddle when the eastern sky turned red. Darkstar cantered up beside her. "Princess," he said, "I'd set a faster pace, unless you mean to kill the child after all. We have no tents, and by day the sands are cruel."

Here, contradicting the stories of Gerold Dayne as a cruel man, Darkstar seems to show more direct concern for Myrcella's wellbeing than any of the other plotters. Arianne—like her father—moves to slow, and Gerold wants to make sure that the girl isn't killed. He's not just pragmatic in theory, he can also be pragmatic and considerate when it comes to the young girl with them.

Here, also, we see that Gerold does not actually mean the girl harm. The accusation that Darkstar slashed Myrcella implies this narrative where Darkstar took advantage of the chaos to finally take his chance to kill the girl and make good on his threat. If that were the case, then here Darkstar could have simply said nothing, and let the girl suffer or even die from the heat. Instead, he speaks up in order to spare Myrcella from the sand's cruelty.

2.9 Gerold's opinion of Arthur Dayne

With all of this context, I'll finally take a look at Gerold's opinion of Arthur Dayne.

As she led the princess to the fire, Arianne found Ser Gerold behind her. "My House goes back ten thousand years, unto the dawn of days," he complained. "Why is it that my cousin is the only Dayne that anyone remembers?" "He was a great knight," Ser Arys Oakheart put in. "He had a great sword," Darkstar said. "And a great heart."

He clearly loves the Dayne house, but seems to have less respect than most for Arthur. Many and more have taken this to be a sign of petty envy, that Darkstar is questioning Arthur's skill at swordplay, perhaps in comparison to his own.

But consider the quote another way: we know from his opinion of "Garin the Great" that Gerold resists the idea of blindly idolizing heroes only because they have become great in the telling. This newer hero, Arthur, is no more special to him. What has he actually done, not what stories have been told of him?

Once again, this is a return of our theming: being shown, not told. Gerold is quick to resist the allure of the songs of Arthur Dayne—to Gerold, there are plenty of other Daynes just as special, or perhaps even more so. This is not a lack of love for his house, nor for honor and glory—quite the opposite. Like with choosing his own name, Darkstar wants to create his own context to see Arthur in, as part of a ten thousand year old lineage of great Daynes (ha) and not some special, magic knight.

Perhaps Gerold Dayne is pointing out that there is more to a knight than having a sword; perhaps he is condemning the idea of equating "swordplay" with "greatness".

What we hear about Arthur is more often than not about his prowress with a sword, but consider the context in which Arthur Dayne was brought up in this chapter. When Myrcella brings him up, his reputation is marred by the fact it's own existence:

"There was an Arthur Dayne," Myrcella said. "He was a knight of the Kingsguard in the days of Mad King Aerys."

Not the most good-hearted of details to remember him by, truth be told.

I suggest that this passage instead serves to suggest that Gerold has a stricter sense of what is valorous than most. Even the great, seemingly infallible Arthur Dayne was a sword in defense of the Mad King. Does serving the Mad King still make for a "great knight"? Or only a "great sword"?

Of course, there's another interesting aspect to this quote: despite his disregard for the particular qualities of Arthur, Gerold is more than willing to acknowledge the greatness of the sword Dawn. I'll get into that at the end.

2.10 Gerold sues for peace

Finally, in his final appearance on-page, we get a last word from Gerold Dayne, who, this time, says exactly what Arianne is thinking... when she, again, is too slow to act, and is unable to say anything herself.

You reckless fool, was all that Arianne had time to think, what do you think you're doing? Darkstar's laughter rang out. "Are you blind or stupid, Oakheart? There are too many. Put up your sword."

Darkstar suggests to all that they surrender. He suggests they put up their swords. Yet again, this is a consistent characterization for Darkstar: a man who speaks against the honor of leading others in a death charge, a man who is a sober thinker, a man who plans to arrive early, and a man who considers heavily the consequences of the actions at hand, especially when they end in the death of a young girl.

After all this, I don't think it sounds like Darkstar to make a wild, reckless, opportune grasp for Myrcella's life, no matter whatever Doran says. Instead, Gerold Dayne has all the trappings of a dutiful knight, and even his brusque edges come from a certain brutal realism, not a sense of jilted pride. He may even be a good and caring man at times.

3.0 My predictions for TWOW: GRRM's next moves

I used to really not like Darkstar. I don't mind him being a little cringe, because this whole series, as well written as it is, still has plenty of pulpy 80s underpinnings which I love just as much as the highbrow stuff. I can handle a little melodrama, fine... but why is Darkstar so flat, I wondered. It felt so incredibly—uncharacteristically—clumsy to have this hurried introduction of a character, and have everyone in the chapter rush to tell the reader how dangerous he is, just so he could do the "dangerous guy" thing and run off to become the next MacGuffin of Dorne.

That is, if everything, or anything, that we were told about him is true.

If we understand that not all we're told is true, then GRRM hasn't actually spent a whole chapter telling without showing. Instead, he's been consistently playing with the same notions of actual reality vs. stories and lies that the rest of the Dornish plot revolves around (and the rest of the series, for that matter, but I'm staying focused here).

In addition, all of that telling we got about Gerold Dayne wasn't at all for the purpose of giving us a quick, surface level introduction to the character (which makes sense, because George is otherwise so good with character). Instead, all that telling is part of a larger, longer plot about Doran's scheming and lying, and Arianne's own susceptibility to Doran's stories.

Finally, and most of all, it all sets up one of GRRM's favorite things to do: a subversion of a character in a twist that involves a sudden change of perspective.

If Arianne and Doran have spent 4 (or 5, including TWOW previews) chapters now telling us what a nasty guy Gerold Dayne is, won't it be a shock once he's granted Dawn rightfully and is named the next Sword of the Morning? What's even better is that, looking back, it will be clear to see how much he isn't a nasty guy—he's actually a pretty good candidate, dutiful, smart, aware of the consequences. He's the kind of guy to take care of himself, keeping his mind and blade sharp, and to be considerate of those lesser than him, as with Myrcella or Garin's army. He may not be a nice guy, but being nice and kind are not always the same. That character of Darkstar, the knight worthy of Dawn, was there all along—except that it was all obfuscated under Arianne internal narration and Doran's repeated lying.

After all, he is of the night... which sounds super edgy, but is foreshadowing too. What comes after the night? The Morning.

Being "of the night" might not be Darkstar being an antihero, but instead being anti- heroes, he's against the concept of the overinflated hero. Like Sandor Clegane, who starts to seem more and more a true knight despite despising knights, Darkstar may be set up to take on a legendary mantle, like Sword of the Morning, despite his utter disdain for legendary heroes, like Ser Arthur and Garin the Great.

And actually, I suspect that Darkstar is quite familiar with Dawn already—after all, despite his cool words about Ser Arthur, Gerold Dayne does seem to recognize the greatness of Dawn. I expect that he's seen its value for himself.

Gerold is the type of man to take himself seriously ... and while that's very easy to make fun of from a reader's perspective, it's a very admirable quality in a knight. It's the same trajectory Jaime has been on: everything used to be a joke to him, but no longer: Jaime is learning how to shed that shield of humor and to take himself and his honor seriously. Can we begrudge Ser Gerold the same?

Rather than hunting down a villain, Areo Hotah, Obara, and Balon Swann are on Doran's truth-suppression mission. For after all, as Lady Nym pointed out, loose ends make for exposed lies. If I replace some of the names of her cautionary message from The Watcher:

If Gerold Dayne is alive, soon or late the truth will out. If he appears again, Doran Martell will be exposed as a liar before all the Seven Kingdoms. He would be an utter fool to risk that.

And so Doran sends his unbeatable Hotah, with his massive and lethal axe that already killed one Kingsguard and might well kill another. How is Gerold Dayne going to match up against that?

Well, he'll have a great sword.

#jozor thoughts #asoiaf meta #asoiaf analysis #Doran Martell and Gerold Dayne #valyrianscrolls #twow speculation #darkstar #Dorne Told not Shown

[thesoftboiledegg]

Overall, Full Meta Jackrick was decent. I liked it. It's not a personal favorite, but I won't mind it when I eventually rewatch the series. I just had the same problem with this episode that I did with the previous installment, Never Ricking Morty: it's not bad, but it's just...there? Meta episodes don't go anywhere because they CAN'T go anywhere. They're just twenty minutes of "Check it out, we're characters in a TV show!"

Still, I think this episode did a decent job of leaning into the meta without ruining the show. I was a little worried that Morty would realize that he's in a TV show and the entire universe would fall apart as he and Rick deconstruct everything, and then we'd have to act like nothing happened in the next episode. Luckily, Full Meta Jackrick didn't push the show's boundaries too far.

But yeah, I thought this episode was a little...pointless? It avoided cliches for the most part, but it also didn't say anything new. It wasn't a groundbreaking deconstruction of Rick and Morty or TV shows as a whole. It was just another take on the "Rick knows that he's in a TV show" concept, which isn't necessarily a bad thing, but it left me going "What was the point of that?"

The episode looked like it might have an anti-capitalist message with the Rick plushies, but that didn't really go anywhere, either. However, that might be a good thing--a preachy statement would've weighed down the episode even if I agree with it.

Full Meta Jackrick had a little more substance than Never Ricking Morty because at least we watched "our" Rick and Morty go on an adventure. I enjoyed watching an episode with just the two of them again. Their dynamic is brilliant--EVERYTHING that Rick and Morty do together is entertaining.

The first half of season six was great, but the episodes felt a little "off" because Morty didn't have much to do in most of them. Now, he's finally stepping back into the protagonist role.

Bringing back Story Lord (and Jesus) and writing a follow-up to Never Ricking Morty in general is a little gutsy and unexpected, which I can respect. Did anyone think that we'd ever hear anything about that train again? Never Ricking Morty isn't particularly loved or reviled--it's just an experimental episode that we probably would've forgotten about if it didn't foreshadow the season five Birdrick reveal.

For me, Full Meta Jackrick is a slightly better version of Never Ricking Morty because it's canon and has a more cohesive storyline. Full Meta Jackrick, like all of season six, also has great callbacks to the first couple of seasons. They never feel pandering or like they're trying to trigger your nostalgia--instead, they poke fun at the series itself and show you that the writers really care about this universe.

I also thought that this might've been the funniest episode of the season. Gotta be honest, guys--I normally roll my eyes when people say "Rick and Morty isn't funny anymore blah blah," but season six is the first season where I'm like "Yeah, the jokes haven't been great." But this episode had a lot of funny lines.

We did get some great character moments with Rick and Morty. Rick's still Rick: he's lazy, crabby, selfish and rude. But he's gentler with Morty, too. He treats him like a person and partner (in crime) instead of hoarsely shouting at him. He looks out for him and gives him his lab coat when they're freezing--boy, THAT'S been a fandom staple for nearly a decade.

This might be a stretch, but the scene in the garage caught my attention, too. Rick gently turns on Morty's goggles for him--you know, like an actual grandfather--instead of telling him to do it and then yelling that he's too slow or whatever.

This is seriously the fanservice season. Rick in a suit and tie yet again, Rick draping his lab coat over a shivering Morty, Rick tearing off his clothes to reveal that he's jacked underneath (I guess he's still working on those abs? lol.) The new writers' influence is so blatant, and I don't think most of us are complaining.

And we saw Rick's favorite thing yet again: crystals. 💎✨ (Well, ore.) Someone needs to give him $100 and cut him loose in a New Age store for a couple of hours.

I also want to note how much I love Justin Roiland's voice acting. Rick's voice is so complex and reflects his character development brilliantly. I hate how people dismiss Justin Roiland as a shouty guy who burps and yells into the microphone. Honestly, I don't hear Justin Roiland at all when Rick speaks--I just hear Rick.

Overall, Full Meta Jackrick was a decent return to the show after the six-week break. Those "Rick is a nihilist" YouTube videos need to go away forever because this episode's theme could have been "Nothing matters, we're just cartoon characters, blah blah," but it wasn't. Instead, Rick tells Morty that his life matters, and he looks at the audience as he says it.

#rick and morty #rick sanchez #full meta jackrick #morty smith #rick and morty s6 #rick and morty season 6 #story lord #story train #review

[bluegekk0]

If anything I think you should speak more, because I love everything you write (and draw.) You've been one of my biggest inspirations to go back and give all of my ocs actual stories instead of just designs.

In fact, ever since you mentioned having non-fpk family ocs before, I have been incredibly curious.

Please feed me all of the information like a bird feeding its young, except its letters going into my eyes instead of food going into my mouth

you have no idea how much that warms my heart, i'm really flattered that you see me as an inspiration. it's all i could really ask for

i do have some ocs, yeah. though i will say, the fpk au characters are definitely outliers when it comes to the amount of personality and lore they have. most of my ocs have very basic backstories, and many of them only do because i used to roleplay as them with my friends. a lot of my original designs that i'm attached to don't even have names, let alone personalities

since i'll be posting a lot of pictures, i'll throw this under a read more so it's not too long

i guess i'll start with my oldest oc, a lion king character who used to be my "fursona" (well not exactly, since i've never considered myself a furry. but persona wouldn't fit here) years ago, back in 2012 i believe. she went through a lot of changes over the years, but i've settled on a design that i really like

her name is swahibu (used to be swahili, i wasn't particularly creative, and i changed it recently since it was a bit awkward for her to be named after the entire language hahaha), and she has a little brother named kobe. their lore isn't anything too elaborate, they're essentially scar's grandchildren who used to be outlanders, but after the events of the second movie joined the pridelands. swahibu is bitter and a bit mean, but cares very much about her little brother. she got her scars in a fight with rogue lions which unfortunately ended with their mother's death, so they're now on their own. kobe is a smart cub, and brings a bit of joy and innocence to his big sister's life. as they both resemble their grandfather more than they'd like, they're often the object of nasty comments from those who lived under his tyrannical rule, though they do eventually earn the pridelanders' respect. not much else to say about them, except that i like to hc swahibu as gay. also, they have a very simple family tree that i made to show what their parents looked like, here (might not work if you don't have a deviantart account, but i'm not sure)

--

next up, there's a character i've considered my persona for quite some time, and one i used to put in many funny scenarios with my friends' ocs. he also changed the most out of all of them throughout the years, and recently i gave him a more furry like design as i hate drawing human faces haha

his name is rick, and he's a hybrid of all kinds of different animals. he's very laid back and lazy, though the fact that he's a hybrid gives him some animal-like traits and behaviors. he used to have a backstory but it's kind of stupid so i'm considering changing it, but he was basically created in a lab and then released after it was shut down. now he lives on his own with his cat, jon. he's one of those characters who are very flexible, so if i wanted to, i could modify him to fit into any scenario (for example, he used to have an assassins creed universe version which i used for roleplay years ago hahaha). not much else to say since i'm still in the (slow) process of changing him

--

i also have a lot of dragon characters, most of them were made for the purpose of a larger roleplay story with my friends. in general i take 'dragon' as a very vague term, since to me a dragon can look however you want and all those classification rules are kinda stupid. but you'll still a bit of, idk, i guess a paleoart like direction for their designs, since i like speculative biology and such. also, some of these originated as heavily based on some of my favorite characters at the time, you'll see that with the first one especially

his name is stark and he's probably the dragon that has the most lore behind him. i won't go into too many details regarding the backstory since it's long and very connected to the roleplay (you know, bit of a "you just had to be there" moment haha). but tl;dr he was taken in by a village and raised from hatchling, so he's very docile and a little bit confused. the village was attacked and he was able to survive, but one of his legs was scarred pretty badly, so he noticeably limps while walking. he's a semi-aquatic dragon, so he's an excellent swimmer. funnily enough, he went through a complete "reboot" a few years ago. in the original rp, he was a massive asshole, he'd hurt others for his own amusement and was generally very aggressive and not pleasant to be around. also, he had a prosthetic leg, though i scrapped that as it was far too advanced for the setting i envisioned him in. i much prefer this direction, i love my giant himbo gator-dragon. and i wonder how many of you can guess what character was the inspiration for his appearance (it used to be a lot more obvious in his first design iterations)

(and no, his wing isn't missing. this is just to show his back haha)

these next three don't really have too much backstory to them. well, except for the first one, his name is ithaar, and he was one of my first ocs ever. he went through a massive redesign quite recently, so he has close to nothing in common with his first iterations. the other two characters, eurus and ash, were made for rp purposes quite recently, and so don't have too much lore behind them

ith is a bit of a coward, he struggles with his self-confidence and believes everyone sees him as insignificant due to his small size and inability to fly. he can camouflage, though, so he's a lot cooler than he thinks. also, he moves by hopping around like a little kangaroo. his design is very dromaeosaur-like, with short stubby arms and yi-qi inspired wings

eurus is very pterosaur-like, though much larger than even the largest azhdarchids. he doesn't like the company of others, he's a bit of a loner (with trauma!). he may seem mean on the surface, but his past experiences make him unable to walk past someone who's in need. not quite a gentle giant, though. i think it's easy to see which pterosaurs in particular were the inspiration for his design, though his crests are very dilophosaurus-like

the last one is ash, and she's the newest addition to the roster. her rp session was very short and didn't really add much to her lore, but she's generally a huge jerk who likes annoying others and stealing from them. but of course, it wouldn't be an oc of mine if there wasn't some trauma involved, and she's no exception. she believes she doesn't fit anywhere, she felt rejected by her own kind for her unnatural abilities (she can move things with her mind), and so she copes with it by being a prick. her design was inspired by junker queen from overwatch haha

---

i also have four night fury characters i made during my httyd phase, and i redesigned them about a year ago to be a lot more "natural" in their appearance. they used to be quite a bit more colorful back in the day, and not in the good way haha

their names are vel'ri, sherok, atis and marivo. no real backstory, just vibes. the first one used to be my "main" character during the httyd phase. vel'ri and atis are female, sherok and marivo are male

--

and lastly, some non-dragon characters. these don't really have any backstory that i think is worth sharing, but i still love them very much

this one is named rugat and they're a genderless, shapeshifting magma alien thing. i don't know what they are. i just really like their design. they're aggressive, but they have a soft spot for small, weak creatures. god knows what their reasoning is, but i thought it was a cute personality trait

and these two are named lox and bagel. they're a ragarox, an original species i made years ago when it was cool and hip to have a closed species. they're eyeless cave dwelling lizard things. very chubby. these two guys are not related but they hang out all the time. 🏳️‍🌈 perhaps?

lox, on the left, is the more active and territorial of the two. but he's also super affectionate towards bagel

bagel, on the other hand, is the couch potato. very round and chubby, 10/10

as a fun fact i like to think their long tongues have very distinct smells. lox's smells like lime, while bagel's smells a bit like blueberry

--

and lastly, here are two unnamed characters. i like their designs but i haven't had the chance or inspiration to think of any details about them

the first one is an okapi-like thing. with a kitty face. the second is like a weird mix between a ceratopsid and some kind of mammal

oh and, here's some redesigns of old dragon characters that i forgot to mention earlier. they used to be very different (all but one were inspired by other characters, but you can't see it on their current designs), and i don't have any backstories for them yet. their names are also going to be changed, so consider them nameless for now

(fun fact: the top left one was one of the first iterations of eurus' design, but i decided to turn it into a different character cause i still like it)

#ask stuff #gekko.art #my ocs

[depressopax]

Hii I hope you dont mind me requesting Howie again, but could I request a hurt/comfort scenario of him taking care of a sick fem!reader (she’s having a cold) I hope you have a great day and thank you againn :]

HIIII thank you for requesting again!! <3 And dw about it! I'm just glad you like my stories and want to request again :)) So if you have ideas lmk! :D Hope you like it!! Sorry for the wait! But here it issssss (The plan was to make all the characters on my BrBa/BCS masterlist but my brain is fried atm 😭 But I also added Nacho - because Ignacio Varga brainrot <3)

Taking care of sick reader | Scenarios

Fandom - Better call Saul

Pairing: 1. Howard Hamlin x gender-neutral reader 2. Nacho Varga x gender neutral reader Genre: Fluff, headcanons Warning(s): - Words: 0.7k Summary: How would they take care of their sick partner? English is not my main language, if I make any spelling mistakes please let me know so I can improve my writing! <3 » Masterlist || Request «

Howard

“Morning, sweetheart! Ready to start the day?”

You grunt in reply and puld the blanket over your cold body. Howard is already up, enthusiastic as always. But today you’re too tired for that. 

“Come on now… You’ve been snoozing for 20 minutes!”

“I don’t want to…”

His smile fades and he sits down on bed next to you.

“You alright?” He reaches out to stroke your cheek and notices how cold-sweaty you are. “Hmm… That’s not good.” 

“I don’t feel well.”

“I know, sweetie, I know…” 

I feel like he’d be like: YOU’RE SICK??? 😰 at first

But then be like: You’re sick… 💔 If that makes sense LOL

Probably scared of catching a cold etc

But he loves you - so it’s worth the risk 😌✨

Howard is the guy that helps you with everything once sick

He fixes food, makes sure you keep warmth and makes warm tea etc

He basically acts like a maid for you until you feel better lol

But he doesn’t mind, at all <3

He likes taking care of and spoiling you 

“Are you cold, darlin’?” he asks, proceeding to wrap a blanket over your shoulders.

“No, I actually feel quite warm” He looks concerned and feels your forehead “Your fever is not going down… Do you want something cold instead? Water, ice cream… Are you laughing?” “Sorry… You’re just so cute when you’re worried!”

Also… You being sick gives him an excuse to just sit back down and cuddle you

He allows himself to be “lazy” (aka taking a break and not overworking) when you’re around

He loves to set you down in the couch and put on some movie to watch together

If he can’t be at home with you - he texts or calls you at least once throughout the day to check on you 

It doesn’t matter if you only have a simple cold, he’ll take care of you until you feel ok again 

He probably would end up sick too 😭 “But at least we can stay home together now!” he says after waking up with the same cold you had. “...But Howard, I need to go back to work today” “...Oh ☹” But you’re of course there for him too until he feels better <3

Also - I found these two Howard out of context screenshots on my PC LOL, thought you might like them!! 😭

Nacho

“You’re burning up” Nacho mutters, still having his palm pressed against your sweaty forehead. “I’m fine, Nacho”

But the fever thermometer says otherwise.

“Yea… Fine, huh?” He scoffs and strokes the hair that's glued to your forehead, tucking it behind your ear. “Rest.” 

“But…”

“Rest.” His voice gets softer “Let me take care of you, ok?”

“...Fine.” 

He smiles at this.

“Good.” 

This man… (God, I love him, I need him <33)

He’ll be all 😐 towards everyone, all the time

But not with you.

Whenever you’re doing poorly, he’s right there. Whether it’s mentally or like in this case - when you’re sick.

He’s the guy that will grimace and be really judgy if someone sneezes or coughs in public, but he tries his best to not be a baby about it for you.

And he’s good at it

Truth is, he somehow likes it when you’re sick

Just because he’ll get to take care of you 

And have you all dependent on him

It takes his mind off all his troubles, and he can focus on you only.

He brings you tea, soup, painkillers… Whatever you need - whenever.

He also appreciates cuddling up next to you and watch TV, letting you pick out whatever

It’s just comforting to him - somehow - to feel your fever warmth against him.

Basically - he’s already a sweetheart, but becomes the most caring (and worried) boyfriend ever when you’re sick. <3 “Nacho, don’t be so close, I don’t want you to be sick too…” “I don't care.” he murmurs

…And eventually he ends up sick too lol

He’s really overdramatic about it 😭

Before meeting you - he’d overwork himself and not give a damn about resting

But since he takes well care of you - you of course do the same for him.

So when he eventually catches a cold, you’re there for him “Well look at that… Told you that you’d get sick.” “...Shut up.” “Will you let me take care of you?”

And of course… He lets you

Homeboy gets overdramatic af when sick 😭

He likes seeing you all worried for him - it’s cute lol

Nacho makes sure you’re cuddled up next to him all day 

And now it’s his turn to choose movies/series for you to watch with him

“Hey?” Nacho whispers after you’ve both shut the lights off for the night. “Hmm?” “...Thanks for taking care of me.” “Of course, Nacho. I love you” “Love you too”

If you guys liked the concept of this I can make a part 2 with the other BrBa/BCS characters! Lmk and thanks for reading <3 Been feeling down lately but I have plans on some stuff I wanna post this weekend :)) Looking forward <3

#better call saul #howard hamlin #nacho varga #x reader #scenario #headcanons #fanfic writing #writeblr #aspiring author #fanfic authors #breaking bad #brbabcs #fanfiction writer #fluff #nacho x reader #howard hamlin headcanons #howard hamlin x reader #better call saul fluff #better call saul fanfic #writers of tumblr #fanfic writers #x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader

[inkrabbit]

Makeup

This was a quick idea I had. This is mainly to try and help get me back into writing since college has taken over my life. So enjoy some Mary Goore stupid shit.

I do have a more thought-out plot for Mary, but that's a lot of work, so I'm doing a bullshit rambling first.

Mary loved having you on tour with them.

Why wouldn't they? You didn't take up much room, and you offered a lot of help with the band. From carrying equipment to getting everything organized and ready for the show, Mary was always extremely grateful for the help, as was the rest of the band.

Of course, Mary had their own way of showing their thanks. A soft grunt, pat on the back or shoulder, or even, on the very rare occasion where no one else was around, you would get a quick half-hug.

But just like everything else in their life, Mary was complex. They didn't know how to properly express their emotions, having never been able to when growing up. They didn't know what proper love was, and the fairy tales told in stories were just that; a fairy tale. There was never a “love at first sight” moment for them, and there was never those “butterflies” that people talked about.

But then they started to hang around you more and more, and they started to experience emotions for the first time. They hated it. They never felt nervous like others claimed, but there was always this strange pull towards you. It wasn't noticeable at first. Sure, they would always feel a little lonely when you would leave, but Mary would go back to doing whatever they were doing.

It started to get worse when they got closer to you. Your undying loyalty and open-minded nature. How gently you treated them, showing them what a healthy friendship should be, rather than all of the other people who would borrow money or only bitch about their own problems.

That was how you started chipping down their walls; you got them to finally open up after countless weeks of gently prodding. And when Mary finally spoke up, they expected you to leave. They expected you to see all of their problems and turn your back on them like everyone else.

But instead, you stayed. You changed yourself for them. You did things that would make them comfortable. For once, Mary was put first in someone else's life and not the other way around. The times you would come over to their apartment, knowing they were either too lazy or busy to go buy groceries, you would bring them instead. When they had bitched about running out of some paint they needed for a painting they were working on, you had grabbed more for them, and getting the exact brand they preferred, too.

Their most cherished gift from you, however, was the deck of tarot cards you had bought for them. They had mentioned it a couple times, saying that there was a deck down at the metaphysical shop in downtown that had caught their attention, but they hadn't had the opportunity to go back and buy it. Lo and behold, a week before the tour, you dropped by their apartment, a bright smile on your face when you sat on the couch next to them and brandished the exact deck Mary had been eyeing. That was the day they finally realized their feelings for you. They finally understood that “butterflies” term when they realized that you had actually been listening to their idle rambling. That everything they said was actually sinking in.

You weren't there for bragging rights about being friends with Repugnant's lead singer. You weren't there to potentially take them for a ride and then abandon them when you had your fill. You actually listened. You cared.

That care transferred over to their music and, especially, their equipment. Mary didn't always trust themselves with their guitar, nor did they always have much faith in their ability to pack things properly. But you were always behind them, a playful smirk on your face whenever you would hold up something they would've left behind had you not caught their slip-up.

Because of you, Mary had their makeup for this tour and didn't have to go buy some shitty brand at the last second that probably would've just been cheap paint from the dollar store. They've done that a few times, nearly losing eyesight one night when the black around their eyes started to melt with their sweat, seeping into their eyes towards the end of the show. It was a miracle they was able to clean it out without much problem.

That wouldn't be the case tonight. They were sure of it. You gathered up the makeup, sitting beside them on the old couch, applying their makeup. They would never openly admit it, but they loved feeling your touch. You were so gentle. They weren't used to that. They were used to rough hands that grabbed and squeezed wherever they wanted, occasionally grabbing at their jaw too harshly for some wanted eye-contact.

Not you.

“Tilt your head.” Your instructions are soft, gentle, and you use two fingers to guide Mary in the direction you need. Their head tilts up as they give you a soft grunt, feeling your fingers glide across their skin. They loved it, leaning into your touch without consciously realizing it.

You didn't say anything.

But when you started to apply the eyeliner, they noticed that you were getting antsy. You were constantly shifting on the couch, your brows furrowed. You kept turning their head this way and that, trying to find a comfortable position for the both of you. They're more than happy to let you position their head however you want.

They won't ever tell you this, but they're doing it on purpose, all to feel more of your touch. When you finally finish applying the eyeliner, there's a look of satisfaction on your face, a warm smile that makes their heart feel light.

“All done!” you tell them happily, letting them look in the mirror. It looked great, yeah. Perfect even. But as you went to reach for the blood, Mary moved. They had time – plenty of time before having to be on stage.

They grabbed you, burying their face in the crook of your neck and rubbing, smearing the makeup and making your squeal, hitting their shoulder. They can't help but laugh loudly as they pull back, the black and white makeup having turned that area of your neck a dirty gray color as you bitched about all of your hard work. They just give you a toothy, shit-eating grin as they shrug.

“Whoops. Guess you'll have to do it again.” they say playfully, their heart starting to pick up as you grumble softly. And yet, you pick up the towel, gently wipe off the makeup on their face that had been smudged and ruined, and started all over again.

It wasn't Mary's fault that they didn't know how to tell you that they adored being this close to you.

#Mary Goore #gn!reader #no I didn't proofread this #I just finished it and said good enough

[nanistar]

do you have any tips on story writing / comic making? ive got something all plotted out but i just dont know where to start with executing it

hmmm this one is tough because i have a long history of starting and giving up on comics, even if i have a full script written out. i'm personally really bad at the whole planning-stuff-out thing. i tend to work in short bursts and write stuff maybe two or three scenes in advance.

i think my best advice would be: if you have something planned out, and you're excited to start working on it, just start working on it.

don't wait to find the perfect beginning, because in my experience, you'll eventually lose confidence or motivation if you wait too long. the worst thing that will happen is you might come up with a cooler idea later, but the good thing about webcomics is you can always start over, especially if it's early on. my "main" comic- something ive been working on since 2014- i have started and stopped about 6 times, and i have changed the plot/settings completely about as many times. i even wrote it out as a 100+ page novel for a creative writing class in high school. i actually started SBC with the intention of doing a short 1-2 year comic to kinda "warm up"

share some of your process online and with friends for feedback as you go with pre-planning. when i was building up the mojave clan concept, briskwater was intended to be the main character, with vulturepaw, a sunclan cat, having an unrelated but major side story but when i shared my first character sketches with my friend server, they all went bonkers over Saltburn so i changed my plan to focus on her. you don't have to share everything, but just having people initially interested in your story is a HUUUGE motivation boost. if you're having troubles scripting a start, don't script. think about openings to shows/series that you like and just start sketching stuff. i really like the foreboding prose-like openings of Fellowship of the ring and Avatar the last airbender, that tells you everything you need to know about the world itself, and mayhaps foreshadows a bit, but is still opened-ended enough that it can go anywhere. you can also start in media res; AKA start where the action all ready happened/is happening, and do a "teaser" of sorts, and then go back, sometimes called a Cold Open (tho that one is used mainly in TV, and some argue it's different but they're both functionally the same thing). think about how procedural investigation shows will often show you an obscured view of how the episode's victim gets murdered/kidnapped/whatever, and then it launches into the shows opening credits.

also finally, and i mean this so, so genuinely, it does not have to be perfect, and it wont be. you are going to be drawing SO many characters so many times, so many BGs ect, things are going to slip through the cracks that that's OK. you can take shortcuts, you can be lazy, you can have continuity errors. also give characters in the BG funny stupid faces instead of worrying about details because its fun to do

sooo yah. that's all i got TLDR: look at intros to media you like, and steal their style. don't worry about getting it perfect. if you have even a slim idea of what you want, just go for it and it will come to you. if you don't know what you want.... also just go for it.

also. my style of writing/comics works for me, but it might not work for you so take any advice i give with a grain of salt. ask other comic folk, like @razmerry and uh. ive been sitting here for 15 minutes but i literally forgot every other comic person ever. so sorry. but anyone who knows things feel free to add on.

#im not really the best person to ask for advice because im so scatterbrained #i also dont script stuff line by line #i typically come up with the full dialogue on the fly #comic writing #comic advice #idk what to tag this as

[arttrampbelle]

I feel nrs shits on raiden because ed has a problem with the character personally.

Why? I honestly have no fucking clue.

Raiden isn't that hard to understand so im not understanding the big deal.

We can have him go dark but not liu? Oh yes because he's the special one. I forgot. 🙄😒😑

Everyone else can get at least something that makes them feel believable,even likable and flawed.

Oh but heaven forbid liu kang fucks up.

See this is why hc liu is better. Non god liu kang is better.

But back to raiden.

Why is it. Why is it. Whenever raiden makes a reasonable mistake,that anyone can make.You guys take it so hard?

And villainize him.

But if liu makes a mistake its the end of the world but never do the same. Like all is forgiven and forgotten. Emphasis on the forgotten part. 🙄

If any other characters do reasonably fucked up shit. And have decent character flaws. You guys dont bat an eye.

But raidne does it. Suddenly you shit on him.

He cant win no matter what he does,how you write him. Im starting to think you guys hate raiden because you have unresolved daddy issues,authority issues,or you hate to admit that a godly powerful being cant wipe you ass all the time and you *sarcastic shock!* might actually have to solve the problems yourselves?! Wow what a concept.

Like srsly tho. Raiden isn't infallible. But he isn't a fucking chump loser can't get shit done.

He could get shit done but he has a code of honor,rules he has to follow by(that he hates),he has so much on his plate. And honestly you guys never appreciated his character.

Like out of pure spite. Im gonna do raiden self indulgent stuff today. Just to spite people.

Legit half the crap we got in 12. We could have gotten with raiden if you guys at nrs bothered to fucking write him properly. Instead of being lazy selfish pricks with a bias and favoritism towards other characters. *couch liu kang cough* (like i love liu but not written like that,never like that. God liu? Gross. Humble monk warrior liu? Yes)

Because liu kang playing "savior and creator of everything" is disturbing,disgusting,and disrespectful.

Like srsly they are legit telling THE SAME FUCKING STORY AGAIN AGAIN AGAIN. SAME AS 11. SAME SHIT. oh but because its uwu brand liu kang. And not the real liu kang. Suddenly its ok?! No!

Legit mk12....os the same fucking thing. Just liu kang brand.

It's no exciting. Its not new. You guys are lying to yourselves.

We could have had any fucking god charactera in mk do the same shit. And get the same result.

You guys could have had this with raiden. But noooooooo. You wanna shit on a character for shock value and no reason. Gtfoh.

You could have actually done something worth a damn but nope. You only care about gimmicks and whatever carries your attention spans for five secs for a quick fix of serotonin because you can't fucking get thru your heads you are being manipulated by a fucking company that lost passion years ago.

But that's besides the point.

So yeah. Raiden.

I'm so sorry they never gave you the love they should have.

Tobias should sue for your trauma. (Half joking here people. Tobias was the one who created and came up with the idea for raiden in the first place. And layed many foundations for this game but is half heartedly given credit while boon steals (no pun intended) his thunder)

Raiden i am so sorry for your mistreatment.

*hugs him*

Srsly if you call yourself a mortal kombat fan. And you genuinely hate raiden Do us all a favor and throw yourself in the dumpster fire. Plz. Also block tf outta me.

Look as a shang tsung tsimp. I love many many other characters too. But raiden is a comfort character,tho i self ship with him too he is comfort character. So i won't tolerate slander and disrespect.

Anyways. Raiden....my thunderdilf.....you deserve sm better.

I hope real raiden fans understand this. And make more PROPER kontent for you. Unlike nrs. We will treat you right.

#mortal kombat #raiden #raiden mortal kombat #lord raiden #💙⚡thunder's devotion⚡💙 #vent #vent post #tw vent

[tleeaves]

Gush about your favourite TSC characters and ships! It's a free-for-all.

This is an incredibly sweet opportunity and now I'm sitting here trying to figure out who and what I want to talk about first. It's probably no secret or surprise that most of my favourites of anything in TSC come from the TLH series. See, with such open-ended gushing opportunities as this, actually, there are sooo many characters I want to talk about. I'm beginning to fear everyone's going to regret you calling this a free-for-all.

James Herondale is by far my favourite TSC character in existence, and I think about him and have talked about him (elsewhere, before I had any Tumblr blogs) the most. If you've read some of my longer fanfics at all, this likely hasn't come as a shock to you, but I love the guy, which is probably why I'm a little weird when it comes to others' posts about him (maybe Jane Austen was onto something when she said that if I loved someone less, I'd be able to talk about them more). We all come away from reading books with different takes on characters, and that's a perfectly normal phenomenon. Because I feel so deeply about James, I tend to dance around the topic of him unless I do agree with someone else's analysis or I have something substantial to say, and even then I tend to curb myself because I don't want to sound like a raving lunatic... and now I realise how long that sentence was. (I'm already a raving lunatic, aren't I?) Anyhow, this is an opportunity to gush, and gush I will (very extensively).

See, I've seen it going around the fandom that people dislike the characterisation of James or the way he was presented in earlier short stories pre-TLH publications and then post when some might argue he was a completely different person. Honourable mention to my fellow countryman, musician, and fanauthor, @faithfromanewperspective, who has some fascinating posts discussing the neurodivergence of the TLH cast, which help further explain their personalities and some of their characterisation across their written existence (seriously, go check out some of Silver's analysis posts, they're such wonderful and interesting reads). Similar to Silver, I like to observe the essentially four different Jameses that exist across the timeline of James Herondale's written existence.

We have the James from the Shadowhunter Academy era, James in The Midnight Heir set several months before the events of The Last Hours, and then, of course, who we have during TLH pre- and post-bracelet influence. I once embarked on a research rabbit warren when I hit a rough patch in fanfic writing where I was trying to decide how best to write James post-bracelet while still remaining as canon-compliant as possible, while also filling in the gaps I and other fans have been frustrated with in James' evolution, all before Chain of Thorns was released. I reread all the stories that involved James and constructed an approximate timeline where I explored the ways his personality was presented at various points. From there, I tried to make sense of him by connecting, essentially, these four Jameses.

James holds a number of insecurities and burdens that pretty much sealed the deal for me when I was reading about him the first time around (don't ask me to count how many times I've read about him overall). Similar to when I discussed the topic of Jem Carstairs and chronic illness (see here), I connected to James Herondale through the avenue of chronic conditions. Other content creators like to interpret characters through lenses of mental illness or disorders, for instance, which definitely have a wealth of analysis and discussion to offer. My go-to instead, I suppose, is chronic illness and relationship dynamics, and how that affects a person's character. I may have talked in part about this before somewhere on here, but I'm too lazy to comb through the James Herondale tag that exists on my fandom blog (@streettealee, where I'll also be reposting this ramble). Anyway, burdens and insecurities.

Goatface Herondale

The academy days were especially rough for many characters, but here I'm talking about James (obviously). He was around the age of 13 when he attended the Shadowhunter Academy (a year, give or take a bit, before Grace would ask him to retrieve her bracelet and wear it, and a little closer in time to when he went to Cirenworth and had scalding fever). We see that he was a rather shy kid, generally self-conscious as one tends to be when reaching teenage years especially, and also quite insecure.

He has a close relationship with his parents and also his sister. We know he's very protective of Lucie, and they were playmates, which naturally lends itself to bonding and frequent squabbles (take it from me, an eldest child with a younger sister born right as I became a toddler -- we were each other's only friends in many respects and we got into a lot of fights, yet I would do anything for my sister, even take ownership for her mistakes just because I didn't want her to suffer the consequences). The nature of his relationship with Lucie is something that does not change as the series progresses (it would have been interesting to see her reaction to him in TMH though). As for his parents: James is what my friends and I in primary school would have mockingly called "The Golden Child" (and not for his eyes, mind you), because he's not simply a mama's boy or father's boy. James is the dreaded combination of both, in which he is always trying to do right by them in some way, shape, or form, without much particular favour for one over the other. It wouldn't surprise me if Lucie was ever bitter about him being the oldest and something of a goody-two-shoes, or if James regarded it the other way with Lucie always getting away with everything because she's younger and so innocent-seeming (she definitely play-acted her way out of things as a child).

As has been examined by others already, James carries the burden of his parents' love (we'll get to more of this in the next section). Not only is he the miracle child of a Shadowhunter and a warlock, never seen before, he is also affected by the trauma Tessa carries as an outsider within the Enclave, and the concern she and Will have for him that borders on overbearing. We see in his academy era that he will not say goodbye to his father because he knows he cannot bear it and does not want to be seen as weak. We also see that he refuses to go home and or do anything that would reflect badly on his mother, because she is already alienated for being a warlock in Shadowhunter society. Furthermore, James is resentful of his father particularly at this time, because James is constantly being compared to him (again, we'll come back to this). He wishes Will Herondale were less than perfect so that James would be allowed to be who he is: less than perfect, a Nephilim child with demon blood.

As a kid, it can be difficult growing up in an environment where you are from two cultures, and everyone around you is constantly trying to get you to pick which you most are between them, instead of unifying them both as elements of your identity (this is from my personal experience). James has been an odd Shadowhunter for most of his life, up until the point at the academy where his warlock powers (thanks to Belial, yay) suddenly manifest. From that point on, where it is seen that some magical capability is possible, James is caught between two worlds. It was bad enough for him to have strange yellow-gold eyes ("Goatface Herondale") which he tried to hide by wearing his glasses more often than necessary, he then had to contend with a more noticeable, alienating feature of his demonic heritage, which drove away even the mundanes he had previously been befriending (outsiders to a particular majority tend to flock together, up to a certain point, as demonstrated).

So, there's that aspect of his shadow powers. When I read about James, I drew connections also with the earlier mentioned chronic illness view. His demonic heritage is not a condition, but his experience of their manifestation in uncontrollable and traumatising episodes of shadow magic are what I would call one. As if he were not insecure enough about not being extroverted enough to break out of his loneliness and enter social circles he's always skirted at the edges of, he is afflicted by a condition that betrays his body and will. This loss of control is difficult for anyone. It's easy to feel helpless, even after a diagnosis of something, because it is incurable and or unpredictable in nature. Self-loathing lends itself to those left vulnerable by such a violent change in their body's nature and their identity. There is a lot to be said about the labels given to us and the ones we assume. To James, this is just another way he is less than perfect, less than his father, a weakness to his mother and family, no longer on totally common ground with his sister, different from his peers, and his ability to tamp down this part of him and appear as some semblance of "normal" for Nephilim becomes tied with his self-esteem.

As a quick side note: it is my theory that James feels like an outsider among Downworld circles and that is why he has always been rather awkward around them. We see he does fine in The Devil Tavern when he gradually makes a second home of it, but there are other instances, such as a brief moment that lives rent-free in my head where, at his introduction in Chain of Gold, he walks past a vampire and avoids eye contact because "[unless Downworlders broke the law, it was none of his business what they did]" (I'm paraphrasing there) and I think there's been a bit of shame instilled in him. James is not wholly a Downworlder, and he is not wholly Nephilim, and because he was raised as a Shadowhunter and alienated anytime he was not quite resembling one, he does his best to try and follow Shadowhunter values and norms and further avoids some aspects of Downworld in some contexts, like when he's just come off a patrol.

Of course, good things come to James too at this time: Matthew finally manages to befriend him, and the two are both insecure people who find security in each other. He also leaves the Shadowhunter Academy, and Matthew declares he and James are going to be parabatai and must therefore stick together, which for James would feel pretty damn good -- not only because Matthew wants to share such a special connection with him, considering his demonic heritage and the inherent angelic ties the parabatai ceremony holds, but also because his father places a lot of stress on parabatai as one of the greatest forms of love that exists (again, we come to that burden of love idea) and so James, I believe, would find this an opportunity to live up to the expectations his parents hold.

AND ANOTHER SIDE NOTE: I THINK IT IS BRILLIANT THAT TLH IS BASED ON GREAT EXPECTATIONS I MEAN FOR CRYING OUT LOUD THE ENTIRE TLH CAST IS SADDLED WITH ALL THESE THINGS EXPECTED OF THEM FOR VARIOUS REASONS, I COULD GO ON ABOUT THIS FOREVER AND THE CONNECTIONS THEY HAVE TO THE ORIGINAL NOVEL BY DICKENS.

All that is to say: this first sort of version of James that we see is shy, insecure, sweet, generally well-intentioned, clever (he's funny and I didn't get time to try and go back to the book to pick up all the instances where he says something amusing, keep off), and reaches this first turning point of burden -- the burden of love and expectations, and of his heritage and abilities/condition. All of this has already brewed into a hero complex (it does not quite rival Cordelia's, but it's up there -- James really likes to handle things himself and on his own, and now it's got me thinking about Batman... anyway).

Helen of Troy

This boy had shining golden eyes, like a crystal glass filled brimful with crisp white wine and held up to catch the light of a blazing sun. If his skin was luminous, his eyes were radiant. Magnus could not imagine these eyes as tender. The boy was very, very lovely, but this was a beauty like that Helen of Troy might have had once, disaster written in every line. The light of his beauty made Magnus think of cities burning.

The Midnight Heir is perhaps the most contentious piece written about James, and I would like to point several things out before we proceed: Cassandra Clare wrote this (as well as Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy) with co-authors who, as far as I know, were not as heavily involved in TLH. Furthermore, this is from Magnus Bane's perspective, and he is known to dramatise just as much as the TLH cast themselves like to drape their lives in drama. Now, going forward...

This occurred before TLH and I have my practical writer theories as to why James wound up so different in TLH compared to TMH. Clare changed her mind about the story's trajectory, about who the main characters would be, what the romances would look like, who she wanted James Herondale to be. And this is where I have to admit, Clare as a writer -- like any other -- is flawed and has a history of inconsistencies. As frustrating as it can be, it happens, and so there is obviously the issue of "well who is the REAL James Herondale? What/who is canon?"

This brings me to my exercise in interpreting James: the different Jameses that exist and my way of uniting them all so that they do indeed make one coherent character who can have the mildness of his academy era, the wild intensity of his midnight era, and have all that remain consistent with who he is by The Last Hours (during and post bracelet).

As you may have gathered from the Goatface Herondale topic above, James' turning point at the academy was just the start of the disasters he was written for--disaster written in every line--which leads up to TMH or his Helen of Troy period. There are some interpretations that his wild and unruly behaviour was simply as it was presented to us: heartbreak taken to the extreme "because he's a Herondale and they love only but once blah blah bullshit blah" and heightened by the cursed bracelet he was wearing at the time (there is textual evidence he had it on him, and we are told Grace merely sent a letter that made him despair and things were quickly made up after). Then, such as done by Silver, there is the interpretation that James may be bipolar or have some other disorder in which he experiences manic episodes, which lead to the vast, seemingly inexhaustible energy he had that night in TMH where we first meet him as he's grown older and the complete mood swing that almost resembles an entire change in character (also look to the dialogue of his parents who say he never used to be like this, he was always so studious, so good, very mild and well-behaved, kept his parabatai in line and shared private jokes). This is where I would have really liked to know Lucie's view, because as his sister, she is more than likely to share a view that is different from the adults gathered (Magnus, Tessa, Will, and Jem), and I almost think she would say he's being dramatic and she doesn't know what got into him except he's still treating her all the same and then she'd just roll her eyes (I'm not saying she wouldn't be concerned, but just that she'd easily disguise it as a mockery of her brother doing dumb shit).

There is also something to be said about masking and "the Mask" that James dons. However, I do not know enough about this to comment much on it. I direct you once again to @faithfromanewperspective who I know has covered this topic in more detail. What I have to add around it (as someone with some form of undiagnosed neurodivergence, but leaning toward ADHD and C-PTSD (I do not yet have the funds or ability to seek professional opinions)) is that this is plausible, and yet not my first thought when I'm considering the totality of James and how we can unite the different stages of his timeline. I say this because I experience bursts and lulls of certain behaviours, and so far I do not have anything concrete to attribute it to, and it may sound stupid, but I have found (in my experience) that sometimes we lose our inhibitions as a result of extreme emotions in difficult circumstances. Who I am when I am at home is different to who I am in the classroom and different again to who I am when I've been drinking alcohol and who I am when I'm wandering the streets of a city late at night (always with friends, notably, because I don't feel safe enough to wander alone at night as a woman). Sometimes, I do not even need a drink in me to loosen up certain aspects of my mentality, but a few hours of sleep deprivation (sort of a lie, I'm almost always sleep deprived and it's yet another chronic issue I'm working on since it affects other areas of my health). I believe I am a product of my environment in many ways. And so is James.

There is some merit to the original idea that James has been ensconced in such profound love his whole life, that when his love life goes wrong and is not at all like the beautiful fairytale he resents his parents for having and pushing on him, it destroys him inside. Admittedly, I'd say this would have greater impact and would be a much more compelling narrative if the bracelet was not cursed and James was allowed to break the dumb Herondale myth of loving once (furthering that alienation but ultimately providing him liberation). But even with the bracelet: James believes himself in love, believes he is damned because he is demonic and nothing good can ever become of him or anything he wants in life, he is going to always get the short end of the stick because the expectations placed on him are too great, and he has received a devastating letter as a hormonal teenager with access to an entire city to terrorise and alcoholic drinks to consume. I'd say it's not far-fetched to assume he was just incredibly drunk and heartbroken that night, and was simply embracing the drama that teenagers lean toward.

It is, though, the sheer cruelness that James demonstrates in front of Magnus that pokes a hole in this framework. The James we knew previously, and even the James we see in TLH, is not who you would call cruel. So where did this come from? Was it his resentment against Downworld rising to the surface, an extension of his insecurities raging inside him? Rebelliousness against his parents? If he embraces chaos and cruelty and vice, can he convince himself he is merely being who he was always meant to be, as someone who is part demon? (Sound familiar to anyone? *cough* Jace Herondale *cough*) Was he as drunk as Magnus thought he was? Was James, in reality, experiencing some sort of manic high where he could be wickedly precise with a gun and still be entirely out of his typical character?

I have no definite answer, except that I urge you to reflect inward. Have we not all at least once experienced a time where we "have not acted ourselves"? Where, for one reason or another, we shed our usual attitudes and embraced a different side of ourselves that only seems out of character because others around us do not know us as we know ourselves? I know I have. I know I can be cruel and nasty when I let go of care, and that a part of me believes sometimes that it is my truest nature because of what some people drilled into me for many impressionable years. That sometimes it is a form of self-harm, because I can still feel empathy and I know what I am doing is hurting someone else, and it hurts me too because I am so aware of it and the whole vicious mental cycle goes on. I know that if I simply stay up long enough at night, I indulge in reckless behaviours and say whatever comes to my mind with little to no filter. I know that I can have periods of energy fueled by recklessness, by some social interactions, by many other factors, and can lead to be attempting to perform feats I typically would not.

James trying to make love to a lamppost and a dog and what have you? That I could attribute to drinking or sleep deprivation. It could just as easily be something else, but I will stand by the fact that this is not out of the ordinary when one is in an extraordinary sort of mental state. I also believe Clare's intentions when writing that was more for humour than anything.

Returning to my earlier point, I do believe James might have been cruel in TMH because he simply could be, because he is unloveable (in his mind), demonic, and for that period of time, dreadfully tired of how hard he had to try to be someone everyone believed he was not. And perhaps because this rebellion, this reckless behaviour, as chaotic as it appears, is actually his form of taking control over his life and his image. If he acts the part of a wild, half-warlock, if he embraces wickedness, he is in control of that and no comments or misfortune that might be attributed to it are as bad in his mind. To him, under the curse, Grace is perfect and he's just Ken James, barely a Herondale. This night in TMH that catches glimpse of his character as of late is actually just the snowball effect of his insecurities that we already saw in the academy.

So, how does that connect to the Jameses of TLH?

Barely a Herondale

Let's revisit my favourite topics of chronic illness and control. We see by TMH, and with context provided in Chain of Gold, that James had begun to master his shadow abilities, so that they became actual abilities and not just a condition that he was struggling with. In a way, I see it as a remission. James has developed this precious view of control because of this, I would argue, and we see him grapple with control and his insecurities in TLH more. When we open the series with Chain of Gold and we see James enter the shadow realm against his will in the middle of a fight, there is a deep sense of body betrayal, I find when reading. I feel for James when his friends go "I thought that had stopped happening/all that rubbish was over" and he goes "me too". I cannot count the times in my life when I genuinely thought my health troubles were over, that the rollercoaster was only going up, just to have a horrible shock when suddenly my body gives out on me and I am plunged for months into chronic pain and illness all over again for usually unclear reasons. I have no cure, just as James doesn't. We simply have methods of managing our respective conditions, if that makes sense. It is a constant fight for control over ourselves. There have been times where I will not tell a single person that my symptoms of something have come back, simply because I am exhausted and I already know the drill of management techniques I'll have to employ myself.

James reaches for his knife, for the pain to bring him back. He contacts Jem because he's worried and has no idea what's going on or why it happened. I am so, so obsessed with this. I can't stress enough how much I relate to his whole shadow dilemma from a perspective of chronic illness. I am shaking you, reader. Please understand. I don't care how flawed this guy is or the fact that Clare might not have intended this interpretation, this is my form of projection like everyone else has theirs and it is so comforting to me, as someone who also struggles to feel in control of my own body, who exerts control over other things in other ways just to cope.

This is one line of consistency I draw from Goatface to Helen of Troy to the James of TLH. Now, moving on...

We see that in TMH that Will and Tessa have been trying to get through to James for ages to try and coax out of him what his problems are and why he is acting out. I discussed this once with an old writing partner, how when the Herondales learned of the Carstairs coming to London to save their reputation and required their help, that Will and Tessa likely approached James and demanded he be on his best behaviour so that they can help the Carstairs. For if the Herondales tried to help while James himself was out ruining his reputation, then the Carstairs would surely be doomed.

And so, we have the image of The Perfect Gentleman™ developed over the next few months ready for the arrival of Sona, Cordelia, and Alastair Carstairs in London. This coincides with the fact that over the summer (after the winter period when he had his wild streak and the spring when he would have been getting his heart and act together) he did not go to Idris to see Grace for the first time in years and the bracelet's hold on him was weakening significantly, which I believe, would mean less of the heightened hurt and insecurity surrounding the topic of love for at least a little while, because he would simply care about Grace (in a romantic sense) less. Who knows? Perhaps becoming the model gentleman was his form of revenge against Tatiana and others, because if he conforms and commits heavily to Shadowhunter society and the rules of propriety, then he cannot be faulted for his heritage so easily by that point. Plus, this is much easier to follow when he thinks he has total control over his shadow abilities at that point in time. For about six months, he can simply put it out of his mind (and get extra weird about interacting with Downworld and how he feels about it. This also brings me to a side tangent about how I think his interest in the occult is the little demon/magic intrigue he allows himself in private where only his friends are likely to be aware of the books he keeps. He says, if I recall correctly, at some point that he finds it fascinating what mundanes think of magic and how close or far they are from it sometimes, and I propose there's like this secret third thing to it about how he likes looking at magic and demonology from the perspective of a third party -- someone who is not Nephilim or of Downworlder origin, because it is the closest kinship he might find).

Also, let's not forget how much people in real life, let alone characters, can change over a period of time, much less several months to a year. I truly do not think his character is as inconsistent between books as it is made out to be. I think the real issue is that Clare left out elements of context that would have helped when characterising James and his journey, hashing out who he is and who he is not. I think another blog brought it up once, how TLH should have been multiple books and not just a trilogy. I agree, I think the dense character work would have benefitted from being more spaced out, particularly when exploring the bracelet in regard to James. Because the James after Chain of Gold especially feels rather like a blank slate that Cordelia is usually projecting upon. Which is valid. I have another theory about this, where the reason James was suddenly the It Guy at social gatherings was because he had "cleaned up his act" in the recent year and the bracelet meant that he was a blank canvas for the girls of the Enclave to project their desires onto. Perhaps it's an allosexual thing, but I know of myself and many others who tend to form crushes on people we know next to nothing about simply because they're beautiful and we make things up in our head based on what little knowledge we have, and the gaps are filled to suit. In Chain of Gold, it felt very purposeful, and the changes between James while wearing the bracelet as opposed to without was much more noticeable.

Genuinely, I think Clare dropped the ball once she got to Chain of Iron, and then dropped even further when writing Chain of Thorns. But still, for the sake of outlining the consistencies of James' character rather than the flaws, we'll ignore my personal frustration with those books and continue on.

We still see his insecurities manifest in various ways throughout TLH. Before we get to that, I'd like to point out that James remains clever throughout this series, always introverted even if he knows how to navigate social situations better now, forever a bookworm, loyal, but no longer so much of a people-pleaser as he seems much more prepared to be an adversary in any given situation as well as embrace rebellion, which I think gets overlooked a lot (do you see how quickly he goes "lock up your daughters and your greenhouses, James Herondale is on the loose and has a penchant for property damage etc." after getting in trouble in Chiswick? I swear, this guy had my heart in a chokehold). LIKE. CAN YOU NOT SEE IT? The way he is still the same guy we saw in TMH? His personality did not change so drastically that he is someone else -- it's still him! He's still there! He's just evolved over the months! And here we are, this is one such place where his insecurities are still pronounced, but in such a way where he tries to own it, to control it, once again.

And in spite of all the Herondale traits James definitely carries, he is still not the typical Herondale like Will and Jace or even some of the others we've seen. James is also Tessa and her trauma and Jem and his teachings and his father and his legacy, and he is influenced by disaster (hello? He was thirteen when he saw another dead kid? Got diagnosed with Greater-demon-for-a-grandfather? Has been brainwashed since fourteen?).

Remember how ready he was to believe he was a murderer? That's his insecurity and history talking. These horrible nightmares he's been having too. James tried so hard to be a hero, and yet he believes he inevitably ends up being someone against the heroes. He is surprised when Cordelia says he's the leader of the group because that's not how he sees himself. And this is what I find so fascinating about James. There's how other people see him, and many people see him differently, and then there's how he sees himself. (I will note that I find the idea of the Merry Thieves having any sort of leader laughable. I truly feel that's not how their group dynamic works. It felt like an excuse for Cordelia to fawn over him (as you do when you have a crush on someone) and have that weird shoe-horned on-the-nose moment where James goes to comfort Thomas and waves the others over when Barbara dies).

Most of what I have to talk about admittedly deals more with Chain of Gold, simply because kind of got lost between Chain of Iron and Chain of Thorns. He's still there, and I still see the strings of his personality, I think Clare just let some of his key character issues fade into the background. Also, I still only read Chain of Thorns once. I haven't been motivated to pick that one back up.

One thing I do like about Chain of Thorns though is that James was allowed to be the bad guy, even if it was via being a puppet for Belial. There was something almost cathartic about him crowning himself King of England. He didn't save the day; Cordelia did. James was merely fulfilling a prophecy he had made for himself.

Also, we don't get to see much of James without the bracelet. I think he's still trying to figure out who he is now that the curse is gone, then after Belial is gone and so are the main aspects of his warlock abilities. James has to redefine himself beyond many of the securities he held (so fucking mad that the "technically I did only love once because it was always Cordelia under the curse 🤪" happened because it would have made more sense for James to also break through that insecurity, but whatever).

In conclusion... um, this guy's just neat? I think he's beyond interesting. People who say he's boring and blank, I hear you, I just can't say I totally agree with you. He's my favourite character. I'll make all the excuses. I just wrote this to try and defeat the idea that his personality is inconsistent because I think it can be argued that it actually is not when you consider, well, all of the above. Anyway, I spent almost the whole day writing this. Whoops.

My other favourite characters are Matthew Fairchild, Cordelia Carstairs, Jem Carstairs, Magnus Bane, and Ragnor Fell. Love them all so much. I love a great many characters but these ones most of all.

Ships? Look, as much as I will criticise it and absolutely agree with other critiques of them, I love Jordelia. I project on and relate to both characters, what do you want from me. Also, I keep saying I have no faith in TWP and that I will not be actively seeking it out but... I do like Kit and Ty. Sue me. The drama is so delicious. For ages though, I've been wanting an equally juicy lesbian ship, I feel like the ones we have just... aren't it. You know? I think there was a missed opportunity in making Cordelia bisexual and a girl crush for Grace. OH BUT I ALSO LOVE GRACE AND LUCIE. SHUT UP, SHUT UP, I LOVE THEM. THEIR DYNAMIC COULD HAVE BEEN BRILLIANT.

Anyway, The End. That was a very long gush.

#james herondale #the last hours #tlh #tales from the shadowhunter academy #the midnight heir #tmh #herondale #character analysis #I have now thoroughly exposed myself and the amount of brainrot I experience over james herondale #a character who many share many complaints about #and complicated views #WARNING: very long post #this was an oddly healing exercise #I should ramble endlessly about things I love more often

[greatwesternway]

Traintober 1: Free Day - Duck and Diesel and Oliver and Sonny

It's a lazy Sunday so have an Engines in Sidings alternative events chat about a scene I don't plan to write for Traintober Day 1.

DJ: I was also lookin' at my Sonny chapter for Engines in Sidings and thinkin' about that point at which Duck and Diesel finally are forced to talk.

Ray: I saw that at the top of my list when I was looking at the list of docs on my phone the other day so I was wondering if you were fucking with it, lol.

DJ: And I don't think I'm gonna actually put this in because I think it's a better story if Duck never knows about how Diesel came to get bought. But supposing he asked, because he would have been curious. Diesel would tell him that Hatt thinks he let a steam engine escape his old yard. And of course Duck asks if he did, because he's hip to Diesel's evasive bullshit by now. To which Diesel would just rattle off the line again. "It was dark and we're all painted black." Which tells Duck nothing conclusive but is a very strange way to put it. And he rather thinks Diesel would outright deny it if it he hadn't. So Duck guesses at it. "So… yes?"

Which Diesel finds annoying, but at the same time, he'd not have thought Duck would even entertain the thought that he would have helped a steam engine. So he huffily elaborates. "I didn't help him escape. I just didn't stop him either." Which Duck has nothing to say to that, but he thinks quite a lot.

Tells Oliver about it later, wants to know what he thinks of that. And this is after Sonny has explained to the two of them that diesels helping him is how he made it to Sodor at all. If Diesel is telling the truth, Oliver thinks that's more than you could rightly expect of a diesel back then. Doesn't think they should be super friendly with Diesel about it or anything. Just that, assuming it's true, it's surprising.

Ray: Oliver doesn't hate Diesel the way Duck does, because he wasn't there, but he knows enough to know how Duck feels about the situation and after hearing only Duck's side of it for so long, I think he'd be a little surprised to hear this about him.

DJ: No, and Duck is a smidge annoyed because he was hoping Oliver - with his history with diesels - would validate his wish to be more uncharitable with this story. But if Oliver - and apparently Hatt - is willing to entertain it, then maybe Duck should too. Which is so funny because you'd think yourself a fool to do that otherwise.

Ray: Oliver doesn't hate diesels in specific, he's just… wary, I think. He knows he's safe on Sodor, but Duck doesn't have that kind of history with the island and also never had to run for his life. From an outside perspective, you'd assume Oliver would take his side, but it's not that simple. Oliver also has more experience with diesels in general, I think he'd know that their behavior in Diesel's story checks out.

DJ: It's because Sonny tells him about the diesels at the power plants who found coal for him. Oliver's escape would have been so much easier if diesels had been like that in his day instead of actively hunting for him. But knowing that they are apparently like that now, and this scrappy little steam engine made it all the way here after years of steam being abolished… Oliver has to imagine that diesels didn't just decide to be helpful one day.

Ray: Oliver putting 2 and 2 together to get 4 and Duck like "I'm not doing that math. I simply won't."

DJ: Will. Not! Which, to be fair to Duck, that math actually doesn't check out for Diesel in particular. That Diesel's story is as it is, that's all just happenstance. If there was some gradual change in the wind re: diesel aggression, Diesel himself was not actually a part of it.

Also, it's kinda nice for Diesel to get to say this, because he always has to spin this story for the audience, but Duck is sort of special in that Diesel assumes Duck will take whatever he says in bad faith anyway so it doesn't matter if he actually tells the story as it really happened. But it is very strange that Duck is the one party he's ever been able to tell the story straight to as well.

Ray: Lifts the burden of having to make yourself look good when you know the other party won't buy any of it. It's frank, no bullshit. Which Duck does not associate with Diesel at all.

It's a shame we can't use this because I really want to. Nobody fucking writes Oliver and Duck stuff.

DJ: Well, part of why I think I shouldn't actually go this way is because I think it takes away from Duck and Diesel just coming to an understanding in the contained sense. The overall story isn't actually about them coming to terms, but Sonny learning that not everyone has to be friendly as long as they're getting their work done. And also because functionally, this'd not be as detailed a conversation between them as all this, because they are dumbass trains.

Ray: Yeah, I know. Just mad is all.

DJ: But I told you this so that you could enjoy it, even if others will not.

Ray: I am enjoying it! :D Love our OC Oliver.

DJ: God, Sonny trying to get Diesel a second chance with Duck because he's the Second Chance engine, not realizing Diesel's actually on his fourth. And Diesel not wanting to tell him because this friendship is precarious enough as it is.

Ray: Sonny wouldn't mind. It's his Second Chance with him, which is what's important. Sonny isn't the arbiter of morals, he's only counting what he was here for.

DJ: Yeah, but Diesel doesn't know that. And also if Sonny annoys Duck enough to make him complain, it won't matter what chance he's on with Sonny. At least to Diesel's thinking. And Diesel thinks his place is also precarious.

Ray: lol

DJ: Very funny how Hatt is the villain in all these stories.

Ray: Hatt would be over the fucking moon to hear his engines are trying to work things out between them like fucking adults.

DJ: He'd be very interested and intrigued to hear that Duck and Diesel are doing anything more than avoiding each other. Not that he minds them doing that now, but it'd be interesting to hear otherwise. And if he found out the details of why, that Diesel was trying to keep Sonny out of trouble, he'd be very proud.

Ray: He loves these machines so much in his way.

DJ: I honestly love that when he comes upon the scene with Sonny and Diesel, he fuckin' bullshits them about the fish first.

Ray: It's so… Old Hatt 🥁

DJ: Like, you KNOW he saw Diesel off the tracks, Sonny haulin' him back with the chain. And it's Diesel so you also know some bullshit is a-fkn-foot here. So let's just ask about the fish first and foremost. See what these hooligans have to say for themselves.

But it would just come back around to what he says at the end of the scene. If there's one thing more important than being really Useful, it's taking care of your fellow engines. And here Diesel is, doing it. Even going so far as to try and smooth things over with Duck.

Hatt maybe didn't think he was making a good investment in buying Diesel on the basis of heresay, but he at least thought he was making an interesting one. And look, it's paid off. Even if he's the villain in the fucking story again for reasons he can never fathom. Hasn't scrapped an engine in years, nor ever sent one away and fucking yet. Dumbass trains.

What's also hilarious is Hatt probably thought to hisself "Oh no, not these two together" when he came upon that scene. Because he didn't arrange for Sonny and Diesel to end up hanging out. But it's actually been so good for both of them. Amazing. Even Hatt would never have thought.

Ray: No. I think I said it before that, if given the choice, he'd have liked to have kept them apart. But engines will literally never stop surprising him. It's why he likes them so much.

DJ: Hatt loves engine bullshit.

Ray: "Hobbits really are amazing creatures. You can learn all there is to know about their ways in a month and yet after a hundred years they can still surprise you." -Gandalf, but also replace "hobbits" with "engines" and it's Hatt.

DJ: Duck would probably also be a little proud of him despite himself. That's some Great Western activities right there. Oliver fuckin' ribbin' him about it. Imagine you try to teach this tin pot railway your Ways and this fucking guy ends up demonstrating them so astutely. Rood.

Ray: He'd be proud but he'd immediately cover it up with "Well, he didn't know that. Sir Topham Hatt told him because he's very wise and knows Our Ways. Diesel just happened to be doing what was expected of him. Unusual, but nothing to write home about."

DJ: I don't think he'd play it off. Duck's not the sort to not acknowledge when he's wrong or when he's been surprised. But he'd probably not say so much about it, which is why Oliver's poking him about it. More like Oliver's slyly commenting on how GWR this whole thing with Diesel has been, and Duck being like, "Well, I suppose even he could learn after a century."

Ray: "And Sonny, picking it up so quickly!"

DJ: Sonny's a natural. He's a fuckin' gangster too.

#ttte duck #ttte diesel #ttte oliver #ttte sonny #traintober 2023 #engines in sidings

[ariparri]

Hello everyone, I got a new challenge for you all!

I’m excited to announce an actual challenge instead of me doing another raffle. This event is taking inspiration from all those gif challenges as well as testing your luck with a Gachapon inspired event!

Instead of me giving you all a specific prompt for a challenge you will be ‘pulling’ for your prompt! It may even prove to be a fun challenge for you!

I’ve hosted this challenge before in the Hogwarts Mystery Amino and it was a success, so I’m hoping it would do well here too (๑╹ω╹๑ ) I also just took this cover image from the original Amino post because I'm too lazy to make a new one =w= I also hope tumblr doesn't screw up my gifs.

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》 HOW TO ENTER 《

► Under the section 'Prompts' are 5 gifs. Each gif is a specific category and there will be a description as to what that gif can be used for.

► You'll need to screenshot 3 of the 5 gifs provided and include those into your entry.

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》 RULES 《

► Choose 3 categories to make a post on! You will need to screenshot the gif to get your prompts!

► In your post, make sure all three of your prompts are shown in your entry! (ex. a location, genre & character.)

► Include the screenshots that you took from this post so we can see what your prompts were about.

► If your content has any NSFW or other explicit content please tag your post accordingly.

► Include the hashtag #Gacha Mystery and tag me in it!

► Share your thought process! I would love to read about how you use your creativity

► Deadline for the official challenge is May 31st. But people can always join this for fun even after the official challenge ends! It could always be used for fun!

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》 PRIZE 《

Yes there will be a prize for a lucky winner! It will be art by yours truly (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

You'll get to choose what style of art I make. A complete drawing of your characters. Probably a portrait of them. A stained glass art style maybe. If you want to see some more examples of my art just look through the #ariparri tag in my blog!

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》 PROMPTS 《

⚠️Caution! Flashing colors and images⚠️

✤ Characters ✤

This prompt can be applied in all categories. Use this prompt to get a character for your entry. This prompt can be counted twice if another character is needed.

✤ Location ✤

You can use it to set the scene in an art piece, or give a setting for a story! If you decide to attempt an edit you will need to make this a focal point of sorts.

✤ Color Palette ✤

This category is most likely best for art, but could be applied to edits in a sense. You are allowed to stray from this palette to use black, white, or gray, but the main focus needs to be on the palette you selected.

✤ Stickers ✤

For editors we have a simple one-word prompt to include in an edit of yours! This is more so up to your interpretation (and google searches) so have fun with it!

✤ Genre ✤

This is to help give you a genre for your story! Of course these genres can also be used to set the tone for edits and artwork, but we hope that those that write in our community are up to the challenge!

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And that's all I have to say for this little challenge! I do hope you have the chance to take part in this challenge and enjoy it. If you have any comments, or questions, let me know in the comments!

Good luck everyone! I cannot wait to see what you come up with! 💜

#gacha mystery #harry potter hogwarts mystery #hphm #hogwarts mystery #hphm challenge #reblogs are appreciated!