#like a.... why try and fail to kill the strongest person under heaven when you could just join him....

[senjutsv]

Hashirama would help Kakuzu get his wife and son to Konoha.

#whether it works remains to be seen #like a.... why try and fail to kill the strongest person under heaven when you could just join him.... #wishlist. ♛

[blzzrdstryr]

Reveries of turmoil

Yandere!Childe x fatui!reader

[Previous chapter]

Just as you predicted that short and stifled conversation was a portent of future changes. Childe stopped trying to talk to you outside the business, he even avoided your eyes in those rare moments when you looked at him first. Normally obnoxious and persistent Harbinger seemed to deflate in your presence, as his swaggering and blustering attitude disappeared within mere moments.

You would be overjoyed for this turn of events, if you didn’t have any experience of dealing with and tolerating Tartaglia. Childe, as you already established, is a chaos personified, an erratic whirlwind that twists and ruins everything in its way wrapped in human skin and caged by human bones. It wouldn’t be a surprise if some nasty complications arose out of this faux armistice and sneaked upon your unsuspecting self.

Ajax wont do anything drastic, you reassure yourself - the Rite of Descension gets closer and closer with each passing day, he just can't afford to fail this, meaning that he will have to keep you on-field. It would be logical to do so, let you work, but logical sometimes means predictable and nothing about Ajax is predictable.

Fortunately he continued to keep this strange distance as days passed. Was your little episode and words you said to him enough to stop him in his pursuit? Maybe it truly hurt him, maybe it made him see how miserable he was making you, maybe his obsession with you ceased to exist, it’s flames fizzling and going out just as fast as they ignited. You doubt all of it, yet continue to hope for the better, despite the evidence of the opposite shoved in your face.

Ajax will never let go of you, not in the way you want. He killed and tortured people right before your eyes, sometimes had you assist him in doing so. Most of the time this was done in Tsaritsa’s name, for the future of Snezhnaya and her people, just another working assignment regardless of the blood curdling screams and alien agony.

However, in some rare cases the torment of others isn’t something that is totally impersonal to you, sometimes you’re the main cause. Childe is possessive, terribly so. He watches over you like a dragon guarding his gold, scaring away other possible admirers. And if his title and reputation wasn’t enough to keep away whatever poor sod who decided to tempt the dragon, well, other way more grim methods were used.

You never personally witnessed these kinds of torture, but you heard rumours and sometimes saw the bodies after, images that keep reappearing in your nightmares. Maybe this lull is nothing but a quiet before the storm, a short breather after he commits some unforgettable atrocity again.

He personally summons you the day before the Descension. You brace yourself for incoming nonsense, except nothing comes. “Agent [Last]”, he says, his voice tense and restrained.”I need you to attend the Rite of Descension with me. You will be disguised as a civilian", and then he dismisses you, no hint of mind games he likes to play in sight.

You want to hope that he changed, you succeed and fail at the same time - this new Ajax is pleasant, he’s cold and disinterested, just like any boss should be, yet you just can’t relax and focus wholly on doing the job - it’s a privilege only those who haven’t met Tartaglia can afford.

He’s a sea, treacherous and ever changing, calm and serene in one moment, yet violent and crushing in the other.

You spend the day torn between the anxious thoughts of Tartaglia and what he might do and the preparation for upcoming ceremony - it's a once in a lifetime event, it's Tsaritsa’s will and hope, it's Ajax’s eyes focused on you. You can’t afford to fail, you have no right to do so.

Wearing a simple Snezhnayan overcoat with nothing hiding your face is surely strange after years of donning a fatui uniform. Tourists and Liyuens alike pass by, not paying you any attention. Both vision and delusion glow under the thick fabric, asking you to use them.

You walk faster.

The top of the Yujing Terrace is lit with sunlight and full of human sounds, as merchants and other workers haste to finish their tasks and join the people at the top. You look around, quickly noticing the familiar ginger - he stays half-turned to you, his eyes focused on the figure of Tianquan. You quickly avert your gaze, as if not recognizing him, and shift it towards other people - you spot two vision holders among the crowd too - an electro and geo one, and a strange person cladded in the exotic clothes with some sort of flying fairy(?) floating around.

You walk to the altar placing Liyuen flowers nearby the multiple offerings of food, wine and gold, their simple white petals contrasting against the gaudy luxury of the rest.

"Qingxin flowers?", someone suddenly says, a speck of genuine surprise evident in the phrase. Their voice is too close for your comfort - you quickly turn on the heels, alarmed by a person somehow sneaking up on you only to be met with a pair of the golden eyes.

It’s a nicely dressed Liyuen gentleman, with the air of wisdom and elegance surrounding him, an inner dignity shining from beneath, and most importantly the one you saw wearing a vision at the back of the coat. You try to look as calm as possible, despite the senses telling you otherwise - after years of service any vision holder unadorned by the Fatui colors is perceived as a threat.

“Yes, it is”, you quip back, not wanting to look suspicious: “Is this improper? Qingxin as an offering?”, you mimic a light concern - something that would be appropriate for the foreign merchant who might have offended the god of commerce.

“No, not at all”, Liyuen laughs: “just in all of my years, I have never seen anyone offer these flowers”.

“Huh”, you smile, looking at the man before you. Is he a simple liyuen you thought of him at first? He has Geo vision - the symbol of Archaic Lord’s recognition - and the way he said “all of my years” carry more weight than usual, a mark of something hidden beneath the mundane phrase.

“Something tells me, you must have attended every rite of Descension”, you continue, the starter vague and innocent enough - a perfect way to fish out more information. For some reason, his golden eyes widen a bit, it’s subtle and quick enough to go unnoticed by most people, but you’re not the most people - all Fatui agents are trained to catch even the smallest changes and educated in multiple fields, physiognomy included.

What could have caused such a reaction and why did he react the way he did? The Rite of Descension is a prominent event in the life of every Liyuen, even if it’s annual, as thousands of thousands of people traverse great distances to see their god fly down from the heavens and grace his subjects with the wisdom of countless years. You remember seeing Liyuens living in Snezhnaya consistently take a leave every year for a week, when the prominent date showed on the horizon, missing working days and no doubt a lot of nerves, only to see the archon of their homeland.

So why did that man looks so surprised?

“You’re quite perceptive, aren’t you?”, he responds, voice calm and pleasant, despite the masterfully hidden surprise: “And yes, I have always tried my best to be at every Rite to this day. Rex Lapis shares his experience with his people, so it’s an incredibly important day. And what about you? What brings a foreigner here?”, he makes a gesture at your obviously snezhnayan clothes.

“Well, I am a travelling merchant as you can see”, you raise your hands, showing him more of the coat: “Having blessing from the God of Commerce won't hurt, right?". He, again, reacts in the way you haven't anticipated, a handsome face adopting a contemplating expression for a short second.

"Rex Lapis rewards diligent people, work hard and he shall bless you too", he says with an air of wisdom around him, like an old enlightened monk passing his knowledge to the disciples surrounding him: "And you shouldn't keep your vision beneath the layers of cloth. I feel its chill just standing here, who knows what it will do to your body?".

Then he simply turns away and goes to the exit of Yujing terrace, and it’s your turn to suppress the rising agitation - how did he know, where’s he heading now?

“Wait”, you say: “why are you leaving?”

“I dedicated my whole life to my job, which consists of a collection of small and incredibly repetitive tasks, they took up most of my attention and I slowly, but surely became a creature of habit, deaf and blind outside its limited field of experience and comfort zone. Time never stops, so I decided to leave the work I’ve been entrusted with, and I want to start it by breaking my strongest habit - religiously attending every Rite of Descension”.

“Ah”, you reply, equally impressed by his speech, and feeling that you are talking about two completely different and unrelated topics: “well, good luck on that”.

More and more people flood the terrace as one of the main threats to your plans finally arrives - stern and ambitious, Ningguang looks as elegant and intimidating as ever, geo vision and the tassel attached to it, shaking with every graceful step. She throws a short glance at Tartaglia - he stands surrounded by the rest of the agents - yet her face doesn’t change even a bit, whatever hostility she may hold for your faction masterfully suppressed.

You quickly look around - tourists and citizens arrive at the last minutes and milleliths come with them. Soon, all of the exits are heavily guarded by at least four soldiers, all carrying spears and clad in armour - surely a necessary precaution, given the presence of Fatui and their Harbinger.

There are no milleliths among the crowd though, not in the on-duty uniform at least. You study the group again, this time looking for anyone with weapons, as someone lightly pushes you away - it’s that foreigner again. “I am sorry, we need to go closer”, the pixie-like creature apologizes, as it flies after the stranger, and you conclude that there are no armed people, except you, Tartaglia, milleliths, Ningguang and that strange person.

“The hour is upon us”, Tianquan starts, after looking at the bright sun above, two women around her slightly bowing down, as she invokes the power of geo. The gold glow surrounds and illuminates her whole figure, before condensing into hard rocks of the same shade. They shine and fly around her for a bit, leaving the yellow trails behind before starting to spin around the shrine in the middle of the rock table.

Soon the golden inscriptions on the shrine start to glow too, before it sends a bright orange beam into the blue sky. The crowd "Oh!"s and "Ah!"s as the clouds deform around the pillar of light.

Tension, so thick it can be tasted, descends in the waves upon the Terrace as some - carefree and ignorant - hold their breaths in excitement and anticipation, whilst the rest focus in caution - Fatui and Qingxin alike. You shift, taking out both vision and delusion out of your coat, as your eyes frantically shift between Tianquan, Tartaglia and the spiraling clouds above, your whole being ready to aid Childe in his mission.

And then something unexpected happens: a majestic dragon does descend to his people. By falling straight to the ground. Serpentine body slumps around the crushed offerings, elongated tongue escaping the confines of the maw.

A long second of absolute silence passes before Ningguang collects herself, checks the body and orders milleliths to close off all the exits, as the crowd erupts into turmoil and chaos realizing what exactly has happened. You disguise amongst the panicking masses, hiding two glowing orbs in the deep pockets of your coat,before looking at Tartaglia again - he in turn intently stares at the blonde foreigner, who quite clumsily tries to sneak past the soldiers.

Milleliths catch onto that running after the stranger and you use this opportunity, turning invisible in the same second. People around you are too panicked to question your sudden disappearance or the unnaturally cold breeze swaying past them, as you make your way - Childe has already departed, chasing after the group of soldiers, and Ningguang is seen leaving too, giving the last orders, before turning to the Yuehai pavillion.

You contemplate for a second, unsure what to do - Tartaglia has ordered you to aid him in case of Qixing intervention, there was nothing about the death of your target and the glimpse into Tianquan’s actions might be a key to solving the mystery of said departure. The thing that you plan to do is opportunistic, reckless even - who would have known that Ajax will rub off onto you? You chase after Ningguang, careful to keep yourself invisible.

Who is Rex Lapis’ murderer?

She goes up to the aged man standing at the stairs of the pavilion, they exchange a couple of words before Ningguang steps up on the little floating island and it starts to levitate! You run after her, still unsure what to do - the platform is too small, Tianquan will no doubt feel the chill coming from you, but the opportunity to learn what Qixing are planning is too good to miss.

In the end, you come to compromise, jumping after the rising platform, as your hands clutch into its rough protrusions and you grit your teeth, enduring the pain and cold from the vision overuse. The little island rises higher and higher, as people and buildings underneath turn into small dots. Your fingers start to slide off a couple of times, yet you grab onto the island with a renewed strength everytime that happens, asking Tsaritsa to let fortune favour you.

The platform finally stops moving, and you pull up, once you hear her heels clicking away.

Jade chamber, as it turns out, exceeds all rumours, luxurious and opulent, shining above the prosperous city, it glows under the sunlight with a golden radiance. You would have stopped to admire it if it wasn’t for your goal. You sneak after Ningguang, following her to the office as she takes out papers and folders from the shelves. She focuses on them, as you carefully step near her, glancing at what she’s reading - it’s reports of fatui activity throughout the months, leading to this day, thankfully vague and very far from reality.

Does it mean that she also has no idea of what or who caused Rex Lapis’ death and tries to find his killer? Or does it mean that she looks for a way to deduct Fatui's next actions?

You don’t have time to contemplate, as the frost worsens and you feel cryo energy exhausting from the overuse - one more minute and you’ll become visible. You quickly walk away - you don’t have enough time to reach that platform, so you do the most logical thing - fling yourself out of the window, opening the wings of the glider halfway the jump.

You push the most of your invisibility, letting go of the cryo powers once you're only a couple of meters above the ground. In the end you find yourself tired and frozen to the very bones, slowly coming back to the Northland bank.

***

You approach the building as the Sun begins to set - its pink-orange rays dying everything in the warm glow. The bank looks glorious like that, sinking in the reddish tones, it looks like an illustration out of children’s books - a place of something miraculous, a place of something hopeful.

“Hi”, you throw to the tired Vlad and he nods, after suppressing an escaping yawn: “Is boss here?”

“Yeah”, he croaks, drowsiness evident in his speech: “came back like an hour or two ago. Can’t really remember”.

“Huh.. Well, thanks”, and with these words you enter the bank, pushing the doors and preparing yourself for the confrontation to come.

After chatting with Ekaterina and confirming that yes, he is in his office, you head for the staircase, all of the information you learned today buzzing inside your head.

Childe sits, hunched over the papers, as you enter, not paying you even the sliver of attention. For some reason he’s in a different clothes.

“Eleventh Harbinger”, you start the standard greeting, all formal and stiff: “this subordinate has finished the task”.

This finally prompts him to raise his head, cold blue eyes look at you, no hint of the usual obsessiveness in sight: "you may speak, agent" he succinctly says, putting the writing feather aside. You quickly report to him all you have seen today, without your own thoughts involved - they’re just baseless theories, after all.

“So you say, Tianquan was reading the reports about Fatui activity. Haven’t you destroyed those reports earlier?”

“Those papers contained nothing about the current situation, they were actually far from reality, I doubt that any of those reports survived the fire”.

“Seems, I’ll have to take your word for it”, a sigh, he leans closer in his seat, propping left cheek on the palm: “Why did Tianquan look at them? What was she trying to do? Pin her crime on us?”, he glances at you again, gesturing that you can speak your mind and you do.

“Highly unlikely, sir. From the short time I spent watching her and her reputation, I have an impression that Qixing Tianquan is a person who prefers to plan her every action. If she or any other Qixing higher up, were the one who murdered our target, then every needed preparation would be done months, if not even years in advance. She would somehow cast us as the killers right at the ceremony, in front of thousands of Liyuens, making us a scapegoat for public outrage and creating alibi for herself”.

“So, that’s how you think”, he hums, blue eyes deep in thought: “Your entire conclusion is based on the mere impression. With Tianquan’s ambition I wouldn’t be surprised if she was the one behind this...”, a vague hand gesture: “catastrophic situation”.

“When I sneaked inside the Jade chamber, she looked very frantic, it didn’t show on her face, but her movements were harsh and quick, lacking any of her elegance. She looked like she tried to keep herself together”.

“Anyone would try to do that, especially after killing a god”, he looks somewhere to the left, no doubt imagining battling the dead archon: “Well, my conclusion isn’t based on anything solid either. We don’t know who killed Rex Lapis, but we still need to somehow obtain his gnosis”, the last part isn’t addressed directly to you, it seems that Ajax just decided to voice out his worries.

“You can go”, he says, standing up from the table. You are touching the door handle, when you hear him asking:”what’s with your hand?”. The tone is nothing like that time, yet shivers still go up your spine when you remember what happened that day.

"Frostbite, from my vision", he comes closer to you, hand outstretched to yours: “Can I?”, he asks and waits for your faint nod, before gently pulling it closer to his face.

“It’s a second degree”, he mumbles, inspecting the white-blue discolorations and small angry blisters - the skin throbs and aches at his touch, yet most of it remains numb, muffled, like sounds underwater: “You should get it treated”.

“I should”, you agree, eager to leave this room and situation: “I will ask medics for some..”

“I already discharged them”, his hand suddenly shifts, now resting atop of the door handle, his frame suddenly looming over you: “I have a medkit here, with the ointments and balms. Maybe you should stay here and let me patch you up?”

Why did you even think that Childe could change?

***

Ajax has you sitting on his chair, with sleeves rolled up to the very elbows, as he frets around you - checking the temperature, pulling the warm water closer to you and taking out needed medicine out of the kit. It’s mostly silent, except the tune he quietly hums - Childe looks peaceful and content like this, maybe he likes caring for you.

“Does it hurt?”, he takes a discolored finger, probing around the blister, as the warm hydro energy engulfs your damaged hand. The burst of sensation explodes at this action - pain, tingling, throbbing, even relief.

“Bearable”.

“Understood”, Childe gets back to his task, continuing to rewarm your hands, still humming that tune as he does so. He takes out the healing ointment, when the healthy color and warmth returns to your limbs and spreads it on the skin, bitter herbal scent filling the room in an instant.

“[First]”, he says, as he rubs the place between the index and middle fingers: “I think we need to talk. About that day and your reaction”.

“And what about it?”, you respond, too quickly and snappy for the calm-facade - the memories of that day, of what you thought he will do to you, of how he witnessed you falling apart - all of these are too much, a maelstrom of conflicted feelings rising every time your thoughts stray to this topic. He finishes applying the balm and now switches to the bandanges, wrapping treated hands in them.

“Don’t you think you treat me too harshly, [First]? I understand I may have been… unpleasant in the Past, but I thought we moved past that. What have I done to warrant such ire?”, he says it with his usual smile, but there's a tense, heavy tinge in his words. It’s subtle enough to miss, but you knew Ajax since you both were fourteen, so the strain doesn’t go unnoticed.

Everything, you want to coldly respond, but you stop yourself again - Ajax is still a Harbinger, even if he trailed your steps at the training camp like an overeager and highly murderous puppy not even a decade ago, no matter your own feelings or sentiments or even experiences he still holds that power over you, whether he realizes it or not.

“There were.. things”, broken bones, coppery scent of blood, someone else screams: “training with you wasn’t pleasant for sure”. Childe laughs at the last part, yet the tension clouding in the air doesn’t dissipate, turning more tangible instead.

“I see”, a long pause: “I want to prove you're wrong, I want to prove you that I will never do something against your will”.

You already did. You stay silent at that, anger and fury and frustration boiling underneath, burning and scorching your insides like a magma moments before the eruption. His hands finally wrap the last layer of bandage, tying the ends into a neat little bow, yet he doesn’t let your palm out of your hold, as his lips hover over it, breath burning the skin even through the fabric. And then he releases it, not doing anything.

“Good luck with that”, you finally suppress the inner storm, and stand up from the chair, quickly heading to the door. The place where he almost kissed your tingles and throbs with a renewed strength. Your cheeks burn for some reason.

#Yandere Genshin impact #Yandere genshin #Yandere Childe #yandere genshin x reader #Yandere tartaglia #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere childe x reader #male yandere #yandere #yandere x reader #my writing

[linkspooky]

Wild Tiger - Gojo and Yuji

If Megumi and Geto together represesent the black yin, then their respective counterparts Yuji and Gojo both embody the white yang. Thus, Yuji and Gojo as mentor and student are two characters who are very similiar in nature. Rather than passive, feminine,  yin standing in the shadows they both are active, masculine yang standing in the light. More on the foiling between Yuji and Gojo underneath the cut. 

1. The Strongest

There are a lot of similarities between both Yuji and Gojo you can point out right away. They are both light haired. They are both the more lighthearted person in the duo, the cheerful, silly ones in comparison to their dark haired more self serious counterparts. Yuji and Gojo both tend to come off as normal teenagers, they drop pop culture references, flirt with girls, read manga. If Geto and Megumi tend to be the more brooding ones, removed from the world around them and stuck inside their own heads it’s Gojo and Megumi who are actively taking part in the world as much as they can.

Basically, in any situation they’ll be the ones less inclined to take that situation seriously, whereas Geto and Megumi are prone to be the ones to take the situation too seriously. Despite the fact that Yuji and Gojo are the more childish of the duo and act like teenagers (Gojo acts like a teenager even as an adult, isn’t he impressive) and more prone to being emotional rather than overthinking there’s also a serious level of distance between themselves and their feelings. 

Gojo notices this about Yuji right away, despite the fact that curses are by some definition “alive”, Yuji doesn’t show any hesitation at all in fighting against them and killing them. It’s odd for what was a normal teenager before this point to act this way, to not even be a little scared by curses. Gojo marks Yuji out as one of the “crazy ones” like him right away because they both suffer from this disconnect between their head and their heart. 

Yuji and Gojo are parallel. Yuji’s craziness is Gojo’s craziness. They even go on similiar journeys before becoming the strongest. In the beginning of Yuji’s character development, and the flashback chapter for Gojo they both experience the same thing. First, a near death happens at the hands of an enemy. Until this point Yuji and Gojo have always been the strongest. Yuji has always been like olympic levels of athletic (for some reason), both Yuji and Gojo were always good at whatever they tried when they were younger and never tasted a serious defeat. 

That is until they experience their near-death and taste weakness for the first time. 

After this point they both flip. Rather than being humbled by their near defeat they become arrogant. Yuji’s flip is more literal, he flips from the dominant personality Yuji, to the other personality within him the curse Sukuna. Gojo, after unlocking the secrets of reverse jutsushiki and perfecting the unlimited becomes more arrogant. These moments are meant to be paralleled to each other, we’re supposed to see Sukuna’s arrogance in Gojo’s apparent flip after becoming the strongest because they both quote the same text “ Tenjou tenge yuiga dokuson. It means “Above heaven, under heaven, I am alone worthy of honor”.

These scenes are further paralleled, because they also fail to save someone. Gojo fails to save Riko, because he let Toji through when he promised Geto that he would cover his back as the strongest.

Yuji similiarly fails to save Junpei, after offering him a chance to come back to Jujutsu High with him and fight together. They also both fail to save the person they wanted to save for the same reason, because they failed to take the situation seriously enough and got sloppy. Yuji forgot Nanami’s warning to him to watch out for the patchwork faced spirit, and Gojo got so arrogant he dropped his guard around Toji.

After these failures however, Yuji and Gojo’s solutions is always to become prouder rather than to humble themselves. They always end up seeking out more and more strength. When Yuji loses Junpei, his response is to flip to being angry and killing Mahito. When Gojo loses Riko, his response is to go on a power trip. They always both double back on strength. This is a parallel to this. 

Which is why Gojo and Yuji click and get along so well, they think the exact same way, they both are convinced the solution to every problem is to just try to be the strongest so you will never lose. Yuji and Gojo have this weird understanding of each other, Yuji thinks Gojo is an admirable person and is always listening to him just because he’s the strongest, Gojo thinks Megumi should learn to swing for the fences more like Yuji. 

2. I Alone Am the Honored One

Yuji and Gojo’s strongest character trait is both their pride, the pride they take in themselves, the pride they take in being the strongest. However, pride isn’t a sin. It is for the both of them a strength and a weakness. Yuji and Gojo are both people dedicated to improving themselves, to lifting themselves up to be the best individuals they can be. While they’re obsessed with becoming stronger, they also use their strength pretty unselfishly. Megumi and Geto are both people who choose who to save. Geto only cares about sorcerers, Megumi only cares about what he arbitrarily deems as good people.

 Gojo is someone who is constantly working to save the masses, he does the most missions out of all the jujutsu sorcerers and is constantly busy exorcising curses for the sake of everyone to the point where his job is his whole life. He also, doesn’t just force everyone to submit to his strength by killing all the higher ups until he’s left. He’s not a tyrant. He works within the system to help people because he’s always choosing his actions along the lines of what will help the most people possible. 

Gojo and Yuji are both self centered people who use their strength in an unselfish manner, though for different reasons. Yuji is emotionally moved to helping people, and Gojo is tied down by using his powers responsibly. However, despite using their strength for the sake of other people they are also both strongest when they are alone and this is a weakness for them. 

They both make the same decision and the same mistake in the Shibuya arc, which is to run off ahead alone even when they have back up they could have waited for because they assume that everything will just be better if they handle it entirely by themselves.

Gojo goes all the way down to the subway alone and gets boxed. Every fight that Yuji faces alone in Shibuya arc (against a name character that matters) he loses. He loses to Choso, as a result of deciding to run ahead of Megumi instead of waiting for backup. He was completely losing to Mahito, and would have died had Todo not shown up to give him backup. Kamo Noritoshi Sr. even tells this to Yuji directly to his face, you alone are not enough. 

Yuji fails to get Gojo’s box back by himself, and once again has to be saved by people working together as a team, the Kyoto students led by Utahime (somebody Gojo dubbed as weak) showing up to interrupt the fight. Yuji and Gojo are both the most active characters always running off to save people, however strength isn’t enough to save people, especially when they’re acting alone. This leaves both of them feeling insecure, because they try alone, and fail alone, they believe that they themselves are not enough. 

These scenes once again are parallels. They try to save people, and then when they fail hold themselves entirely responsible. Their habit of acting alone also comes from this distance between themselves and their emotions which I described earlier. Yuji and Gojo only see themselves in their utility to the other people around them. Yuji has to be doing something in order to help others. 

Both Yuji and Gojo are consumed by what I am going to dub the “chosen one complex” where they have to believe there’s a reason that they’re given such tremendous strength. They have to use their strength in order to help others. Otherwise, why do they exist? Neither of them allow themselves to exist unless it’s in service of others. Yuji can’t live on unless he’s helping people like his grandfather told him. Gojo HAS to hold the whole Jujutsu World on his shoulders. 

In other words they see themselves and their relationships with others in this way. People can’t simply like Yuji and Gojo, they need to need them. Yuji is surrounded by allies because he is useful to them, because he’s strong enough to be around them. They see everything even themselves through the lens of strength. Nobody would want to be with them if they were weak. Geto didn’t like Gojo, they were only together because they were the strongest together.

If you’re not strong people will leave you behind. That is the only way Yuji and Gojo can comprehend their tangible connection to other people. That’s also why we see a similar emotional denseness for both Gojo and Yuji. It’s not that Gojo is uncaring, he does actually take notice of people’s feelings and tries to be considerate in his own way.

They both notice small little details about people while missing huge ones. Gojo noticed something was off about Geto because he was interested in him and observing him that close, but he took him at his words that he was fine when he was in the middle of his mental breakdown and was caught completely offguard by it. There’s an entire chapter about the small little details that Yuji notices about people. 

However, Yuji and Megumi fail at basic communication and are constantly hiding secrets from each other, the same way that Geto and Gojo once did.

They are at the same time extremely observant, and emotionally dense, and this is entirely about how they see themselves. Yuji and Gojo can only exist in service to others. They’re only going to be surrounded by people if they are strong enough. Which is why they also wish for what is exactly the same thing. Yuji wants to die surrounded by people, and Gojo wants allies that are just as strong as he is. However, they both go about it in the entirely wrong way. What Gojo wants is people who are as strong as him to be equal with him. However what Gojo needs is to emotionally open up to people and allow other people to be equals with him on an emotional level because they don’t need to pass some physical test of strength. 

Gojo and Yuji are both characters who want to be surrounded by people, and yet they’re always running off ahead of everyone else to die alone. That’s the contradiction about themselves they need to fix, in order to keep living as more well balanced people. That’s why they both need Geto and Megumi as the other halves of the equation, because they can’t solve it on their own. 

#itadori yuji #yuji itadori #gojou satoru #satoru gojou #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen meta #jjk meta #jujutsu kaisen theory #jjk theory #megumi fushigoro #suguru getou

[cringeyvanillamilk]

☕️ Steph, my good clown, can I get your sexy opinion on your favorite battles in the shonen series (plural) that you have read/watched?

The clown has arrived with her answer! Thank you for such an interesting topic! It was hard picking out my top 3 favorites since a lot of my favorites are great in their own right, but I think I’m satisfied with what I chose.

For anyone who’s interested, here are my other favorite shounen battles that sadly did not make it to the top 3:

Itadori and Nobara vs. Curse brothers (Jujutsu Kaisen)

Maki vs. Mai (Jujutsu Kaisen)

Gon vs. Pitou (Hunter x Hunter)

Deku vs. Muscular (Boku no Hero Academia)

All Might vs. All for One (Boku no Hero Academia)

Luffy vs. Usopp (One Piece)

Gaara vs. Rock Lee (Naruto)

Zenitsu vs. Spider Brother (Kimetsu no Yaiba)

Tanjirou vs. Rui (Kimetsu no Yaiba)

Now let’s get to my top 3 favorite shounen battles! (Under the cut!)

3. Maki vs. Miwa (Jujutsu Kaisen)

For my third favorite shounen battle, I chose the fight between Maki and Miwa during the Kyoto Goodwill Event Arc! What I like most about this fight was the set up, spectacular choreography, and interesting characterization.

Before jumping into the fight, we are introduced to Miwa and Mai talking about Maki’s strength as a Jujutsu sorcerer. Here, Mai is downplaying Maki’s ability to fight which leads Miwa to underestimate Maki as a result. We then cut to Miwa being absolutely overwhelmed by Maki’s attacks. This short setup helped give impact to Maki’s true strength and abilities to not only Miwa, but the audience as well. The fake out was a nice surprise since we haven’t seen Maki fight thus far.

The choreography throughout the entire fight was absolutely marvelous. The use of perspective and slow-motion helped give certain attacks more weight as well as how the attacks look in a first-person perspective. We not only see how overwhelmed Miwa was, but also how focused and ruthless Maki can be. Despite Miwa being an antagonist due to her team’s order to kill Itadori, I find it amusing that we the audience end up sympathizing with Miwa in the end.

I also liked how the environment was used during the fight. The transition from the forest to the small stream down below when Maki literally kicked Miwa off a cliff was a nice change of scenery. The visuals of the water due to the character’s movement and weight was also a nice detail. I won’t be surprised if all the budget went into the water effects.

The fight between Maki and Miwa was incredibly one-sided where Maki seemed to have the upper hand for most of the fight and Miwa had no choice but to be on the defense. We can see how overwhelmed Miwa was due to underestimating Maki from the beginning. If Miwa was warned ahead of time, she may have had a better chance of standing against Maki. However, due to her trust over her teammate’s words, she ended up being blind-sighted. I really enjoyed being inside Miwa’s head for the majority of the fight. We can tell that Miwa is doing the best of her abilities, but just can’t beat Maki’s talent and quick instinct. The fight overall highlight’s Miwa’s weakness of overthinking her next move. We only heard Maki’s thinking process briefly after Miwa activated her simple domain, but she’s very quick to adapt and be unpredictable. The characterization in this small fight was very fun to watch!

Overall, this may be a small-scale fight in comparison to other major ones within the anime and manga, but that doesn’t mean it should be overlooked. Having a grand spectacle of a fight doesn’t make it the “best fight”. Sometimes, a short, but well-choreographed fight that makes good use of the environment can go a long way for me.

2. The Black Bulls vs. Vetto (Black Clover)

For my second favorite battle in shounen, I chose the black bulls vs. Vetto during the Water Temple arc. I’m not sure if it’s because I don’t watch enough shounen anime, but I felt like this was the first battle where a group of characters worked together to defeat an antagonist. I’m just so used to watching 1v1s, or if we’re really stretching it 2v1s, in shounen that seeing an actual group use teamwork was very refreshing for me to watch. Something to note about the difference in the manga and anime was that while the final battle against Vetto within the anime had Gauche, Charmy, and Grey join in, in the manga it was mainly Asta, Finral, and Vanessa. Despite the small difference, the fact that most of the members of the Black Bulls took a chance to fight Vetto and showcased their fighting abilities was a sight to see.

Before we get to the final fight against Vetto, if we don’t count Yami’s finishing blow at the very end, I really enjoyed Luck, Magna, and most especially Noelle’s attack. I liked how we got to see each character use their strongest attack and the unpredictability of who’s going to finish Vetto off throughout the fight. I was hype seeing Luck and Magna’s combo magic for the first time, but was surprised to see how ineffective it was to Vetto. This helped give us an idea of the power difference a normal magic knight may have in opposition to an eye of the midnight sun, which is why when Noelle gained an attack spell, Sea Dragon’s Roar, and did the most damage to Vetto, that basically hinted the potential Noelle has as a strong magic knight. But surprisingly, Noelle’s attack wasn’t the climax of the fight because that’s when Asta, Finral, and Vanessa joined in and worked together against Vetto. Now it was this specific teamwork that really made it for me.

What I love most about this team dynamic was how each of them had a significant role in winning the fight. Asta had the physical strength and most offensive attacks, Vanessa’s string magic helped propel Asta into any direction, and Finral’s spatial magic was utilized to transport Asta in any location. Both Vanessa and Finral helped give Asta the upper hand by making his attacks more unpredictable and adaptive to Vetto’s animalistic magic. It was impressive seeing Asta attack Vetto in different directions and dodging his attacks. But just when we thought they had a chance of defeating Vetto, he became a much bigger threat when he began to read through their attacks and successfully caught and broke Asta’s arms. And just when we think that Asta can’t fight without his arms, Asta reinforces his schtick of not giving up, igniting hope into his teammates. And with their final push and hint towards Asta’s devil powers, Vetto was finally defeated thanks to their determination and teamwork!

This fight had a nice combination of surprise, hope, and despair! But what makes this my second favorite fight was solely because of how each of the members had a moment to shine within the fight. There wasn’t an instance where a character was just watching and that makes me very happy! An overall great fight in Black Clover!

1. Gon vs. Hisoka (Hunter x Hunter)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Txl2imn11bM&ab_channel=CrunchyrollCollection

For my ultimate favorite shounen battle, I chose Gon vs Hisoka from the Heavens Arena arc. If there’s one word to describe this fight, it would be “tension”. What I liked most about the beginning of this fight was how no word of dialogue was exchanged between the characters. The background music was ambient with most of the attention given to the sound of movement and grunts, which only makes you feel tense throughout the exchange.

In this particular fight, Gon was very quick and light on his feet while fighting Hisoka. There were even moments where it looked like he was levitating for a few seconds when throwing punches at Hisoka which shows how fast his attacks were. I liked how we see Gon’s thought process through his actions where he’d try multiple strategies to attack Hisoka. At first, he would try and do a barrage of punches towards Hisoka’s face, but then gain some distance when his attacks fail and then face Hisoka head on again. And while Gon is struggling to get the first hit, Hisoka is just observing Gon with a smile on his face and enjoying every bit of it. And it wasn’t until Hisoka surprised Gon with a punch that we finally took a breather. It was an intense fight right off the bat!

But my enjoyment of the fight doesn’t stop there. During the first exchanges within the fight, Gon’s attempts were very straightforward and relied mostly on his strength. But during their second exchange, we can see that Gon learned from his prior attempt and decided to use his wits. Instead of attacking Hisoka head first, he cleverly used his environment to gain the upper hand and finally punched Hisoka in the face! Hisoka may have underestimated Gon from the beginning, but I still thought it was amazing how Gon managed to pull that off! I’m going to be honest, I was not expecting Gon to actually be strategic and pull out the tiles off the floor to block Hisoka’s sight. It was so satisfying to see this type of development from him which makes it a highlight of this fight.

Honestly, this was this part of the fight that makes this my ultimate favorite, but that doesn’t mean what happens afterwards was nothing interesting. Hisoka’s nen abilities were very fun to watch and very unpredictable! I feel like Gon was meant to lose from the start since Hisoka’s fighting style is very adaptive against Gon’s more simple approach. Overall, an amazing fight! I highly recommend watching the fight for yourself!

#answered #loosesodamarble #black clover #jujutsu kaisen #hunter x hunter #This took me a WHILE!! #Highly recommend checking these fight out! #I hope you enjoy the read- #I really do just ramble a lot-

[flowerflamestars]

PLEASE elaborate on cassian and azriel as teenagers PLEASE

 YES MY BOYS OKAY LETS GO

So the moment it all actually comes together and starts is in Starlight: that first blood smeared kiss with aching ribs, Cassian’s retrospectively enormous fuck you to authority, that searing absolution: he’s Illyrian. 

What Azriel hears: Illyrian like me, like me, the only one.

This is where Azriel understands all at once. That he might have nothing but an uncertain future, but he can belong with this one bloody, beautiful boy who is just as deadly. That this is why Rhysand- Rhysand who has known love every single day of his life- is jealous. 

It’s about recognition. That the High Lord chose Azriel and recognized his talent- even if Rhys is the one who really has a father, who gets letters and gifts, who has a father. 

That Rhys’ bleeding heart that both Cassian and Azriel find incomprehensible meant that he’d dragged Cassian to shelter- but the High Lady had looked at the strongest Illyrian born of his generation and said, yes, you can stay by my sons side. 

Rhys went: New? Brother? 

But Cassian understood exchange. Alliance. And proceeded to prove himself further to the Camp Lords who spit on him by thrashing Rhysand within an inch of his life, every single day. 

Enter, Azriel. Overpowered, out of control, almost executed because an Illyrian who can’t fly is worth less than a lame hunting dog. 

Rhys might have come to learn Illyrian techniques, but at the end of the day, his power is incompatible with siphons, isn’t Illyrian at all. 

Cassian has been alone his entire life. He could shake the mountains when he was eight- but it didn’t earn him anything but more fear, more anger, more people who’d called him a bastard, a monster. He doesn’t remember his mother’s name, he’s never had anyone and doesn’t count Rhys because he thinks the High Lady is trying to collect him because her precious Prince clearly needs a guard dog. 

(he’s not 100% right, but he’s not 100% wrong either. Alyssar and Rhain plan for Rhysand to rule the Steppes one day, befriending Cassian has great future value if they all survive to adulthood)

And then Azriel blows up the first few shitheads they throw him in the ring with. No control, so very much power.

There’s a timeline where they ended up sexy rivals, each other’s only benchmark- but what happens instead is someone pushes Az off a cliff in training and he just falls. 

Azriel can’t fly.

So Cassian teaches him. This weary, beautiful boy everyone is afraid of who the dark loves, who spends every spare moment staring at the heavens like he’s never even seen the sky before. 

The snows blow in early. Cassian looks at Azriel. They’re exactly the same height, which is to say, already enormous, but Az always makes himself smaller. Always. He’s deadly and graceful and so, so, afraid. Not that anyone notices but Cas- no one else ever gets close enough to this boy the Camp Lords call a devil hidden in Illyrian skin.

Cassian sneaks Azriel back to the cabin, to his gifted bedroom that he is abruptly nauseatingly both proud of and ashamed by. 

He’s so sad, Cassian can easily share, easily keep him from freezing to death.

(in the back of his mind, he knows he wouldn’t. Az is strong like him, he wouldn’t freeze. He’d live, but it would hurt. Pain is supposed to make them stronger, and they hurt each other all the time. Surely, surely, that’s enough.)

The thing is, they’re equals. They’re alike, the only people either of them has ever met who are. And, as we know from Daylight and Starlight, they get each other. As friends, as brothers, as everything, they understand one another. 

Az might not talk much, but Cassian always listens when he does. Laughs, the sound so vast and lovely Azriel never knows what to do in the face of it. 

Cassian is absolutely brutal, but he’s fair too. Kind. Bewilderingly willing to share whatever he has with Azriel, who has even less, for the easy price of fighting each other, watching each others backs. 

They go to sleep each night in a too-soft bed, warm for once. Confounded by so many things around them- Cassian is briefly, utterly vindicated at the look on Azriel’s face when Alyssar gives him a pillow. 

Flash forward through winter and spring, to that early summer day.

Rhys is jealous of Azriel- because he and Cassian belong together. That Cassian had looked at Azriel- so very wrong to behold, more shadow than teenage boy, scarred and scared, half blind in the sunlight- and seen an equal. In Azriel. Not Rhysand.

Rhys, much like the spoiled child that he was who’d never before had someone say no, never before considered that anyone could be better, is a little bitch about it. He spends their teenage years getting over it, slowly. 

But in the meantime, Azriel is having a revelation.

He can belong.

It’s about recognition. Love, but also so much more than love. It’s only with each other- as friends, as lovers, as some mix in between because they know better than to think this will last forever, better still than to imagine that something so inconsequential as Azriel someday finding a man a who could love him without secrecy, that Cassian does like the way Morrigan looks at him, could ever, ever tear them apart- that they learn they can have. 

They hurt each other all the time in training, they have to- Cassian learns what Azriel thinks, that Az says to himself so many times over, with every reach- Cassian would never hurt me for real. Azriel realizes that no matter how strange he is, how scared, Cassian has never been afraid of him.

They look at each and see only equals, all in the world that can really belong to each other, because no one else exists as they do.

It’s Cassian setting the bones in Azriel’s hands after he broke them, Azriel using the darkness to steal bandages and to wrap Cassian’s weeping fresh tattoos, even though they’ll heal fine untended. Sleeping in that too small bed, warmer, because now they can touch. 

Gentle because no one in their world is gentle, but they can learn to give that to each other.

It’s standing shoulder to shoulder under hateful eyes, stronger, the strongest, together. Earning the exact same number of siphons, undeniable. 

Cassian telling Azriel the little stories he made for the constellations he found in the summer sky as a child. Azriel reciting, carefully, the fairytales him mother told him in secret before she died, just an hour each week- of honor, of valor, of love, of Illyrians who were more than violent.

They’re family, they’re everything, and that doesn’t change when Azriel turns twenty, and the High Lord of Night calls him into service. 

One last night, the desperate strength of Cassian’s embrace, his hands shaking, always gentle. Cassian telling Az not to trust those fucking high fae, Azriel making Cas promise he’ll be here when he can come back. That he’ll live. That they’ll both live.

A year of madness, a year of learning, a year by side of a High Lord who knew every inch of his territory, feared, respected, loved across of the Court of Night and beyond.

Az takes his vows, becomes something even more fearsome. And then Rhain sends him back to Illyria, to guard the Morrigan, his personal choice for his sons future bride.

(The bidding war for Morrigan’s hand has already commenced. To send her to Autumn is, more than anything, a fuck you from one High House to the highest. Rhain is hoping his terribly romantic, dreaming young son, might just elope. Do something foolhardy and reckless that he can pretend to disapprove of, and still get what he wants.)

The Morrigan thing happens.

Azriel understands- Azriel isn’t mad at Cassian. They’ve made no promises, this cannot even begin to touch what they each other.

Azriel is mad at Morrigan.

Because she used Cassian, because she hurt Cassian, and she doesn’t care. Doesn’t begin to understand. Thinks it’s nothing because of course bright, laughing Cassian would go along, act as though being dismissed is nothing to a bastard born boy.

But it’s still his job to protect her, and he will. Azriel is resolute in his duty, the best, right up until the moment Morrigan’s father takes her home. 

The one relationship in which Azriel has no authority, that Rhain had ordered him specifically not to interfere in. 

Still, Azriel warns the High Lord.

Still, it isn’t enough, and it takes him days to find her.

He has nightmares about it for three hundred years. It changes all of them- Morrigan, a casual rebel, who’d now rather die than not escape. Azriel, from dutiful to duty incarnate, locked in ice. Cassian, to whom the world had proved that in the end, no matter how much better he was, kinder, he was still a weapon.

A few things happen in short, dangerous succession. Alyssar takes Morrigan to Sangravah to heal. Azriel disobeys several direct orders to stop Rhys from killing Cassian. 

The boys reunite, the boys mourn.

Rhys takes formal control of the Steppes.

It’s love, it’s recognition, it’s existing in the understand they will never let something like it happen again: Cassian kills Azriel’s half brothers. Azriel goes with Cassian, shrouds in unescapable and devouring darkness the camp where his Mother died. They rebury her bones.

Cassian and Azriel, shoulder to shoulder against the world. Cassian and Azriel, a promise bound if not spoken: to protect Morrigan, who they’d failed.

Cassian and Azriel, the whole sum of each others family, no matter what shape it took. 

A whole world, together, Illyrian as no one else ever was. 

[villainousshakespeare]

Offerings

Loki/OFC one shot

Rated M: Angst, tooth rotting fluff, love, some light smut, 

Summary:  Laek is a healer from Alfheim sent to Asgard to train under Eir. She is lonely on so alien a world, with no one to talk to and all her dreams of adventure on hold. When she begins to receive gifts from a secret source, she cannot begin to imagine who has left them, or why.

**Set before the events of Thor I, when Loki was still a sweet (if mischievous) untraumatized soul.

I have been feeling a bit blue this weekend, and wanted to write something angsty and tooth-achingly sweet. This was the result. I hope you like it!!!

@arch-venus25​ @caffiend-queen​ @ciaodarknessmyheart​ @devilish--doll​ @hiddlesholic​ @hopelessromanticspoonie​ @izhunny​ @just-the-hiddles​ @kellatron55​ @myoxisbroken​ @nonsensicalobsessions​ @poetic-fiasco​ @shiningloki​ @yespolkadotkitty​

*If I ever tag you and you want off a tag list, please let me know!

OFFERINGS

She did not belong here. The thought echoed like a silent scream through Laek's mind, try as she might to suppress it. Looking around her, at this strange world she'd been thrust into, it was all she could do not to weep. Laek knew she was being self indulgent and melodramatic, but she could not seem to help herself. What, after all, was a young woman like herself, born and raised to heal the injuries of men and gods, doing in a realm that celebrated war?

All around her, men and women dressed in armor, encased in and carrying the steel that was designed to do harm to one another. The air filled with the clang of weapons on a constant basis, accompanied by cries as blade edges found their homes in flesh. Even wielded as they were here in practice, mistakes were bound to be made, injuries acquired. They celebrated scars here, badges of honor for the noble race that elevated all that she had been raised to strive against.

It was not that she was a pacifist. Laek knew that there were things worth fighting for, causes that she would die to defend. It was just that the level of worship here accorded brute strength, the ability to maim and kill, was out of all proportion to her mind. Surely, surely, she thought, there were other skills of equal value.

She had been brought here to train in her arts, for it was on Asgard that the Goddess Eir, worshiped above all by healers such as herself, resided. It made sense, in its way. Where else would she be more needed than on this barbaric world. And Laek was learning much and more from the blessed Goddess. Her own powers and knowledge were still green, if great in latent strength. Laek was the strongest natural healer to be born to her people in generations, but at just 700 years old she had much still to learn. It was thought that 100 years under the watchful eye of Eir would be exactly what was needed to nurture her gift. 100 years. She had been here for one month, and already she wanted to throw herself off the much vaunted rainbow bridge to escape.

It would be easier, she often thought, if she didn't look so different on top of all else. She was smaller than most of these Asgardians, both in height and body mass, and her clothing was soft and flowing rather than hard and protective. Her pale gold hair she kept long, after the fashion of her Alfar people, braided across her temples and tied with ribbon woven through. Under a high brow, her wide, tilted eyes shaded different colors, from gold to green to crystal, depending on her mood, an embarrassment to her now that she found them so often a cloudy grey that gave away her discontent.

Laek was not mistreated, of course. Eir and her acolytes were kind to her, in their fashion. But the Goddess was old, dry, and set in her ways. The All Mother, Frigga, had pulled her aside upon her arrival in a most kindly manner, telling Laek that her door was always open, should the young healer need to talk. Occasionally she had thought of taking her up on that offer, but in truth she was more than a little intimidated by the regal Goddess that ruled Asgard at her husband's side, and her courage had failed her every time. Odin himself flat out terrified her, as did their two sons, the golden Thor and the sleek, dark but pale Loki. She watched them, but never dared approach.

And so Laek spent her time in a somber routine. In the mornings she would rise, bathe, dress, and report to the infirmary. Once there, she would spend the early half of the day tending to the sick and injured, attending on Eir and absorbing as much knowledge as she could at the healer's side. In the afternoon, she would head to the library, where all of the written knowledge of all 9 realms was stored in the pages of books and scrolls, a collection that had no rival in any universe. She would loose herself there for hours in reading, studying healing or simply learning about the customs and practices of other places, places she longed in her secret, adventurer's heart to see for herself one day.

She ate her meals at the end of a table in the great feast hall, alone amidst a sea of strangers. At night, she retired to her chambers to an early rest, often walking in the moonlit garden beneath her rooms, where she could pretend for a moment that she were home and at peace.

It was in the library one afternoon, in the beginning of her second month, that the first token appeared. She had found her eyes glazing over as she studied a text on blood transfusions, and in an attempt to rouse her mind had gotten up and wandered to the section that contained dwarfish riddles, pulling a book at random to bring back to her seat.

When she returned to her bench, her breath caught in her chest. There, lying atop the open tome that had so sedated her, was a pale blue crystal. The stone, smooth to the touch and oval in shape, had a pure clarity that made the sparkling fire at its depth shine so brightly it looked like the evening star. Laek had seen many such stones in her time, for they came from her home, from Alfheim, but never one so perfect, so incandescent.

Dropping the riddle book, she had picked it up with trembling hands, and then, unable to do anything else, had run to her rooms, thrown herself on her bed and wept, clutching it to her breast. It was home, a talisman of all that she missed in this strange land.

She had asked the next day, in a shy, anxious voice, if the librarian on duty had seen where it had come from, who had left it. In response, she had gotten a terse "no" and a lecture on leaving her books unshelved when she was finished with them.

Eight days later, she had been walking in the garden as the first stars rose, blue stone secreted into her pocket so she could feel it cool against her hand. When she reached her favorite bench where she always stopped to gaze up at an unobstructed view of the heavens through a circle of elder trees, she found a flower. Placed carefully in the exact center of the bench, it was a perfect red rose, a flower that she had only read of until then. It grew on neither Asgard nor Alfheim, but was prized on Midgard for its beauty. She raised it to her nose and inhaled the lovely aroma, a soft smile coming to her lips.

After the rose, it had been a snowflake, perfectly preserved between two pieces of glass found in her cubby in the healer's quarters. Larger than any she had ever seen, she knew it could only come from Jotunheim, home of the fearsome Frost Giant. How anyone could have gotten it, let alone why they would have left it for her was a mystery she couldn't begin to explain. Still, the gesture touched her deeply. Someone had noticed her, other than to sneer or pity. Someone was being kind. She only wished she knew who it was.

Laek began to hope for the small tokens, to take greater note of her surroundings in case some small item were to be slipped in. It was a good thing, too, as she could easily have injured herself had she accidentally sat on the twisted puzzle box made of small metal daggers that had obviously come from Nidavellir. She spent all that night unlocking it, to find a bright green gem set on a silver chain within.

The tokens made Laek's life exciting again. Oh, she knew how pathetic that sounded, but she didn't care. She had a friend, even if they didn't make themselves known to her. Every time she searched the area where a gift was deposited, there was the same result. No one had seen anything. No trace was to be found of the person who had left them.

When they stopped, she was devastated. Three weeks went by, and there was nothing. Not in any of the places she frequented. As time went on and no further offerings of friendship appeared, Laek grew despondent. Perhaps whoever it was had found a new game, a new way to pass the time that did not involve the strange Liosalfar who was all alone on Asgard. On the day that marked a month passing with no new token, Laek begged off early from the infirmary, pleading fatigue of her own, and returned to her quarters. She knew it was silly to feel so bereft, but she could not help it.

She was aware something was wrong the moment she opened the door to her outer chamber and her eyes shifted to amber. She had magic deep within her, at her very core. A warding over her rooms, her sanctuary, was a automatic outcrop of that magic. She could tell beyond a shadow of doubt when someone had breached that warding, no matter how subtle the magic the intruder had used. Tiptoeing silently, she made her way towards her bedroom, where a quiet rustling could be heard. Opening the door, her eyes went to a figure standing over her bed.

"Frjosa!" she said, arm twisting out towards the intruder, who instantly froze in place.

With a pounding heart, Laek pushed door the rest of the way open and gaped in stunned disbelief. There, next to her bed, was the frozen form of Loki, Prince of Asgard, Odinson. She had caught him just raising his head, his green eyes wide with surprise as the spell hit him. His hair, dark and straight, brushed against the collar of his green tunic ornamented with gold. One elegant, long fingered hand was extended towards her pillow, and in it was grasped a rolled up piece of parchment tied with a green ribbon.

"What in all the Nine?" Laek said allowed, staring at the frozen prince.

Why would he be in her room? It made sense in one way, only a strong sorcerer would have been able to break her wards and enter. She knew he was known for his mischief, had he had some prank in mind to play on the unsuspecting foreigner thrust into their midst? With his mastery of magic, he could pull any number of tricks on her.

Shaking her head in confusion, Laek made a small motion with her fingers, and unfroze his body, still, however, containing him within a parameter of limited space.

"My Lady," he gasped, a flush of red suffusing his cheeks. "I pray, forgive me my intrusion."

"You," she said, stupidly.

"I am Loki," he told her, sketching a courtly bow.

"Yes, I know," she replied with a little laugh, feeling her eyes shade to blue as she blushed. He was royalty and handsome as sin, she could hardly not know who he was. "I am Laek of Alfheim. But I suppose you know that, since you are in my room."

"I do," he admitted with a small nod of his head. "Again, a thousand apologies for my trespass."

"But why are you trespassing?" she asked, tilting her head as she stared at his handsome frame. She could feel his magic pulsing from him, attempting to find a chink in the stasis field she had him trapped in. Only in her own chambers would she be able to confine one as strong as he she knew.

"I don't suppose you would believe this is a shortcut to the armory?" he asked with a devastating smile.

"Through my bedroom? I think not."

"Ah, well then."

"What is that you have in your hand?" she demanded, noticing how he was attempting to hide it behind his back.

"Nothing," he said shortly, blushing again.

"It is not nothing!" she approached him warily, as one would a cornered animal. She knew he could do no magic, not bound as she had him, but that did not mean he could not use physical strength should she come too close. Against that, she had no defense unless she chose to freeze him again, and such a course would not yield the answers she sought.

"Your magic work is commendable," he praised her, sending a spark of something warm shooting through her. "Normally I could break a spell such as this in a matter of seconds, but your construction is seamless."

"You are in my nest," she shrugged, inching closer. "It is the way of our kind to protect our homes."

"Perhaps you could teach me," he smiled again, unleashing a lethal charm for one so young. She felt her own lips begin to tilt up, struggled to get them under control.

"Perhaps," she said non-committaly. "Once I know your intentions."

With speed that she knew surprised others not of her race, Laek's hand shot out and snatched the scroll from his hand. He made an unconscious noise of protest, but she had it out of his reach before he could grab it back. Was it a spell, she wondered? Some joke he sought to play on her? Biting her lower lip, she untied the ribbon and unscrolled the crackly parchment.

Her eyes widened with shock as she read the words written in an ornate, ancient hand. It was Vanir in origin and dialect, but the words were not a sorcerous incantation, but rather a poem; a rather romantic, lyrical poem set in a forest by night.

"I meant to be gone before you found that," he stammered. "I had no wish to embarrass you."

"You!" she breathed, realization hitting her. "You are the one who left all the tokens for me!"

Her left hand dipped into her pocket to grasp the blue stone, while her right flew to the green gem around her neck. Her eyes flicked to her bedside table, where the rose stood in a crystal bud vase next to the pressed snow.

"I did," he admitted, not meeting her eyes. "I ran out of locations to leave them for you. You go so few places. It took me weeks to breach your warding and make my way in here. I never expected you to return so soon. It is not your normal habbit."

He was babbling, she realized. As though he were the nervous one.

"Why?" she asked, at last. "Why leave them for me?"

"You seemed so lonely," he said, arms coming across his chest and head ducking down defensively. "Always by yourself, not really fitting in here. It caught my attention."

"It did?"

"Yes," he said softly. "I know a bit what that is like. Let us say, it piqued my curiosity. An easy thing to do, in truth. I watched you often in the library. I spend a portion of most days there. Tracked what you read. It seemed you had a desire to see the worlds."

"I do," she admitted. "I always have."

"I know a bit about that too. I know of course that you are here for study, and what a demanding teacher Eir can be. I trained under her for a century or so myself you see. I thought, if you could not go to the world, perhaps the world, or a small representation of it, could come to you."

"A stone from Alfheim, a snowflake from Jotunheim, a puzzle and gem from Nidavellir, a rose from Midgard, and a poem from Vaniheim. You went to all of those places? Found these things?"

"I did," he said, as though it were nothing. "It is easy enough if you know how. I admit, I was stumped as to what I would do when I reached Helheim on my list. Even I might have difficulty breaking in and out of there."

"Again, why?" she asked, staring at him with wonder. "It must have been so difficult. Why go to all that trouble? You might have just talked to me."

"I like a challenge," he said proudly, lifting his chin. After a moment though, his eyes dropped. "And I did not know if such an overture would be accepted. I am not... well liked or understood on Asgard."

"That makes two of us," she laughed, a bit breathlessly.

"I suppose it does," he replied, chuckling himself. "My dear Laek, do you think you might undo the stasis barrier? While it is causing me no physical distress, the wound to my pride is nigh on unbearable."

"Of course!" she said at once, moving her hand in a lateral swipe that dissolved magic.

"Thank you," he said with a deep breath of relief.

"I liked the gifts," she told him quietly, suddenly feeling shy now that he was free.

"Did you?" he asked, stepping towards her.

"They are all that has made these past months bearable on this planet."

"You are all that has made the past months bearable," he said, gazing into her eyes in a way that made her breath catch. "Before you arrived, I was miserable. Nothing changed, everyone was the same. Then you appeared, and I couldn't breath. I wanted... needed to know you."

"Me?" she she breathed in awe.

"You. Have you no idea how beautiful you are? And then to discover you were smart as well, gifted in magic, and curious to boot? For the first time in centuries there was someone in this accursed realm besides my mother who I thought I might understand. Who I wanted to know. To know in so many ways."

"You could have said hello," she said, feeling far out of her depth as he stood so near to her, took her hand in his.

"I could have," he said. "I chose not to. Can you forgive me?"

"Yes," she said simply, willing in that moment to forgive him any sin.

"Will you let me kiss you?" it was the uncertainty in his voice that touched her the most. He honestly didn't know if she would allow it.

"Yes," she said again, transfixed.

He was slow, gentle. His lips touched hers softly at first, brushing against her like silk. When she tilted her head towards him, he sighed into the kiss and gently lapped against her lips with his tongue. Laek opened her mouth willingly to him, inviting him to explore, to taste her. His arm came around her waist and pulled her flush against him as her fingers fanned out over his chest. He at last pulled away from her, leaving little nipping kisses on her lower lip as he did.

"Minn svass,"  he murmured as he gazed at her. "Your eyes are crystal."

Laek blushed crimson. She could tell from his smug voice that he knew what crystal meant. Her truest color. She wanted him. Wanted him desperately.

"Do not be embarrassed, sweetheart," he smiled. "Mine would be too."

As he took a step away from her, her eyes drifted downward and she saw the proof of his words, tenting his trousers.

"I would not disrespect you," he told her in a rough voice. "Would court you as your station deserves."

Laek bit her lower lip, struggling for words, always a problem for her when her emotions ran high.

"Could you not disrespect me just for one day?" she asked at last, flashing him a nervous smile.

A slow, wide grin spread over Loki's face as he stepped back towards her, pulled her into his embrace.

"I can do that," he practically growled at her.

He was kissing her then with a newfound ferocity, claiming her mouth, her neck, anywhere he could find flesh. Her hands fumbled at the hem of his tunic, and he raised his arms to help her pull it off. Her dress quickly followed, and he tumbled her down onto the obliging mattress just inches away.

"So beautiful," he groaned, eyes wandering her body where she lay naked before him. "Delicate as a flower and all for me."

"Loki," she panted as he devested himself of his trousers and stood before her in all his glorious nakedness.

She guided him into her, sweet and wet and open to his invasion. Her slim legs rose to wrap themselves around his hips as he buried himself within her walls. He had wanted her for so long, the beautiful, alien woman who had captured his interest from first glance. The reality was even more perfect than he had imagined. She was soft yet supple, molding around him as he thrust within her. He could feel the magic that was part of her very being, and it mingled with his own in a way that made their coupling more intimate than he had ever known it could be. When he felt her walls clamp down around him, felt his own release pump warm and strong inside her, filling her, it was with an intensity he had never experienced before. He cried out her name, almost as though in prayer, heard his own name called back with equal urgency and bliss.

When at last they could breath again without panting, Laek lay cradled in Loki's arms, head resting on his slim, muscular chest. One of his hands toyed lightly with the stone around her neck, and she smiled at the thought of him finding it for her.

"Promise me," he said to her, "that you will wear this always."

"I promise," she told him without hesitation.

"Tomorrow I begin to court you officially," he reminded her.

"I look forward to it," she smiled at him with a dreamy smile. The smile faded after a moment as her crystal eyes sought his green. "Loki, I have been so lonely."

"Think not on that, love," he told her, covering her with his body. "I am with you now, and you will never have to be alone again."

#Loki #Young Loki #Loki Fic #Loki OFC #Loki/OFC #Loki Fanfic #Marvel #Thor #Pre-Thor I #Pre-Avengers #Marvel MCU #Love #Smut #Light Smut #Angst #Sweet #Fluff #young love #Sweet Loki #Undamaged Loki #Before his emotional trauma #What could have been

[lunaticsundae]

Lose My Mind (LeoKarno NSFW)

Warning: Rough sex, (kinda) forced sex

(I’m not actually good with sweet and nsfw fic, only angst fic is my most written sooo yeah..hope you guys enjoy my first nsfw fic)

“All these endless paperwork...those goldfish can be so greedy with their wishes” - Leon sighs, he have been looking through and examining all the documents regarding human’s wishes for 7 hours straight.

The air in the room is getting to hard to breath due to the stress. Leon decides to head out to get some fresh air, he stand up from his desk and head for the door when suddenly, the door flies open with a goddess dashing into the room.

“Lord Leon, please, please help me ! The spell i’ve been practicing do something to my pet, i don’t know what have gone wrong but it’s attacking me !” - The goddess cries out with desperation, panicking with blood on her left shoulder when suddenly, a bunny 5 times bigger than normal dashing toward Leon and the goddess with his sharp teeth shown and eyes are blackened with no pupils.

“What have you done !? This is a dark spell used in the ancient war between heaven and hell. It turns every creature into monster that harm everyone goes by its path !!!” - Leon yelling angrily, knowing a goddess practicing dark spell in the middle of heaven

“SCREECCHHHH” - The rabbit makes a weird sound so disturbing that brings harm to the ears, Leon quickly pulled the goddess in his arm while covering her ears, he flings his arm while speaking an ancient language. Immediately, the rabbits head twisted, the screaming sound getting so intense it breaks the glass window in the hall, causes the ground shaking. Leon frowns trying to use his power to protect his ears and the goddess’s

The rabbit’s head finally falls onto the ground, the disturbing sound ends. Leon snaps to clean up the blood and the animal’s corpse on the floor. After quickly cleaning everything, Leon turns to the goddess, who is still shaking. Noticing Leon’s “try to explain it properly” gaze falls onto her, she stutter, trying to make out her words:

“Please, Lord Leon, i don’t know anything, i just want to learn advanced spell to get my rank higher to work at the palace. And there was man in cape told me this spell, he said that it is a spell that makes everything powerful. Please don’t punish me i swear i don’t know !” The goddess cries out, seemingly telling the true

“There have been rumor going around the palace...that there is a rat from hell snuck in here to stir up the heaven, causing chaos..so it is true” - Leon thinks and speak to the goddess

“Your pet, sadly have to be killed as it is no other way to treat creature affect by that spell, just find a new—“ Leon realizes he still holding the goddess in his arm, releasing her, he continues:

“Okay, leave now, tell no one what happened here to prevent chaos in the heaven. I will report this to King”

After the goddess left, Huedhaut rushing to Leon’s office, as he saw a disturbing energy comes from the direction. Leon explains the situation and tells Huedhaut to keep an eye on everyone’s behavior, even the 12 Zodiac gods as the imposter could be anyone. Suddenly remember something, Leon asked:

“Have you seen Karno ? It’s been all day, he should be here to check my work progress now. The hell energy, though just from a rabbit but it still can be sense for a god like Karno, he should be here right now.”

“What ? He told me he sense something from your office so he went to your place. You haven’t seen him yet??” - Hue surprised, Leon quickly runs out of the room before Hue get to continue his words.

Leon puts his hand in the air and the stars on the sky starts moving, creating an direction guide tool. However, the star guide immediately disappears like someone tries to remove the guiding spell. Leon stops and looks at the star, sighing and head to the milky way river bank.

“You know i am able to sense someone’s power to find them right? Especially when that person is someone so close to me” - Leon looks at Karno, sitting by the river bank

“Oh, that should be my mistake for forgetting our great Lord Leon’s power. Should the great Lord be taking care of the hell power problem right now?” - Karno said without turning around to look at Leon

“What’s the problem with you now, what’s that attitude. You know how worried i am when Hue said you came to my place, but i never see you came by?” - Leon completely annoyed, all the problems happening today yet Karno is showing attitude for no reason

“Yes, i changed my mind, i don’t want to see you today. Please head back to solve the urgent problem now. I will send you my documents and report regarding this matter later” - Karno put his hands up ready to snap to teleport away but Leon grabs his hand, pushing him down and devours his lips.

Karno struggles, try to close his lips tight, denying the kiss while pushing Leon away. But the strength of the second strongest god is no joke, no matter how hard Karno tries to push his Minister away, the harder Leon push Karno down, pressing his lips against him. Leon sliding his tongue into the Vice Minister’s mouth like a snake looking for its way in every corner. Karno feels like he can’t breath, he can’t take this anymore, jealousy and anger rise inside him but he can’t tell the Lion he’s jealous

He just don’t want him to know

SMACK

A hard slap went across Leon’s face, Karno push Leon and about to run away. But the escaping attemp fails as Leon grabs Karno by the neck and teleport to his bedroom where he push Karno down the bed by the neck, pinning him so he can’t get away

“Just tell me, why are you so angry at me? Hmm..? I can’t fix it if you won’t tell me” - Leon sighs while tracing his finger across Karno’s pale and smooth body, slowly undressing him. The god of Cancer tries to stop him then suddenly an electric-like feeling running through his body, every inch of his body are tingling with...excitement. His member is getting hard under his pants. Karno angrily turn around at the Lion as he knows exactly what’s going on to him.

“Don’t you fucking dare use your power on me, i won’t hesitate even if y....AH !” - Karno slips out a sudden moan as he feels Leon’s finger inside him, touching his sensitive spot. This is not the first time he experience this infamous pleasure power of Leon but this time, it’s feel like everything has gone up to a new level. It’s getting irresitible.

“Just tell me what’s wrong Karno and i will be gentle to you. Don’t be quiet like this” - Leon brush his finger through Karno’s hair, whispering lightly into his ears but the Cancer god’s pride stops him from speaking the truth. He should be worry about the hell problem, not jealous over some woman. It’s way too embarassing to speak the truth.

“Do..ah..whatever you want and be done with it. I’ve...seen enough of your face” - Karno try to speak but his mouth keeps moan on itself due to Leon’s touch. His head is getting dizzy but he can feel the anger of the Lion behind him. Leon aggressively turn Karno around and rest Karno on his thighs as he shove his monstrous member into the poor Vice Minister’s hole, all the way to the end. The sudden and rough entry causes tears to burst out of Karno’s eyes as a reaction.

“Ah..Ah..Leo...stop...it’s hurt—Mmhhh” - Karno’s beg is cut off by Leon’s deep and wet kiss. Leon just finally let out when he feels like his partner about to pass out due to lack of air. Leon looks at Karno with mixed feeling.

“If i do it like this you will have to face me with no choice..right? I don’t want to hurt you but your attitude is making me angry and all you have to do is talk to me” - Leon shoving his cock continously into Karno without a break. At this point the Vice Minister can’t hold back his moan anymore, he feels like he is being filled up to every inch of his body, the intense heat, Leon’s pleasure power and his rough shove is getting him insane. He doesn’t hate this but the feelings right now is getting out of control.

“Leon, are you inside? Can i come in?” - There’s a person knocking on the door

Hue!?? Why he have to come in right at this time - Karno thought to himself, panicking, Leon shows no sign of stop, he push Karno onto the bed, moving inside him while replying:

“I’m in a middle of an urgent matter right now. Can you come back tomorrow?” - Leon reply while keeps thrusting hard into Karno, lowering his body close to Karno. Understanding the sign, Karno bites Leon’s neck to keeps his moan unheard. Hue left after Leon’s reply, but Karno keeps biting Leon’s neck, not to hold his voice, but to keep himself conscious under Leon’s manipulation, the pleasure rising in him. Leon gently stroke Karno’s hair while whispering into his ears.

“It’s okay, baby”

“Leo...ah..i’m about to...Mmmhh”

Leo holds Karno tight in his arm, both of them moan with pleasure. Karno collapse onto Leon’s shoulder, Leon lightly patting his partner’s back

“Sorry..i came inside...i will wash you later, okay?” - Leon kiss Karno slightly on the forehead but suddenly he feels something wet on his shoulder, he holding up Karno’s face just to see he’s crying, tears falling down his red cheek.

“Wait..why are you crying? did i hurt you that bad? Honey i’m sorry i just lost my mind” - Leon immediately got panic when he see tears of his beloved. While the lion wiping his lover’s tears in panic, Karno finally speaks

“I was...uncomfortable with that woman you hug today...I just...couldn’t hold my anger, every thought of you leaving me with another person ran through my head. I don’t want to see you to stop myself from being hurt by that feelings” - Karno confessed - “—but you don’t have to do me like that okay, you could just do something else to get me to talk other than abusing my hole” - the Vice Minister sobs and keep punching the Minister, though the punches are weak because his body still aching and exhausted from the sex earlier.

“You’re...jea...” - Leon let out a little smile of relieved knowing that it’s not something seriously happening with their relationship, holding Karno inside his arms, he gently stroke his cheek : “I have never thought of loving someone apart from you. I just tried to cover that goddess’s ears from the disturbing noise that can harm her or even turns her into monster. There’s no other reason, because there is only one cutie Crabby in the world and that’s the only one i love, don’t worry, okay?”

“Leon, i’m sorry because i was childi...—HEY WHAT ARE YOU DONG PUT YOUR HANDS AWAY IT’S ENOUGH !!”

“Okay how about another round for making up? I will be gentle this time” - Leon smile whole pushing Karno down onto the bed, kissing him deeply like he never going to let his cute lover go.

Meanwhile outside the Leon’s room

“So they’re going for another round, huh?” - Teorus puts on a naughty smirk, next to him is the rest of the Wishes except Huedhaut

“Okay people, back to the hell matter at hand, leave the lovey dovey rest for a day, shall we? You all have heard everything inside, right? Happy now, back to work” - Hue claps his hands together as he tell the Wishes gods away “It’s a good thing the Minister and Vice Minister get along that well”

#scm #star crossed myth

[creative-type]

Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire

Summary: Cora had never been very good at telling the truth AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25099165 Word Count: ~2300 AN: Written basically in one sitting, with minimal editing, and without referencing canon for accuracy. Basically, I thought it was a cool title for a Cora fic and needed to get the idea out of my system

.

“Are you happy here?”

Rosinante looked up at his father’s tired, defeated eyes. He heard Doffy screaming from the next room over, drowning out Mother’s desperate attempts to calm him as he demanded they return to Mariejois. Rosi didn’t think his brother would hit her like he sometimes hit him when he didn’t get his way, but he wasn’t sure, and that frightened him.

“Rosi?” Father prompted, reeling the boy’s wandering thoughts back to the question at hand.

Rosinante fidgeted, dropping his eyes so he wouldn’t have to look at his father’s earnest expression. There were things he did like about living in the North Blue. He didn’t have to wear a bubble when he was outside, or watch the other children laugh as they hurt their slaves, or hear the hateful words their parents hurled as his mother and father.

But this morning they’d had burnt eggs on burnt toast for breakfast, Mother laughing as she told the tale of how she nearly set the kitchen on fire trying to light the stove. Father’s moustache was crooked and there were bits of tissue paper stuck to his face where he’d cut himself shaving. Secretly Rosinante thought that his brother had a point, that their lives would be so much better if Father would let the family purchase a slave or two. Already his mother had ruined an attempt sewing a hole in his favorite stuffed animal, and Rosi had had to bear the indignity of doing household chores.

Quietly, shamefully, Rosi wasn’t sure he wanted to be a human anymore. He squeezed his eyes closed as Father put his hands on his shoulders and lowered himself down to his knees. A Dragon never knelt, and at that moment Rosi felt like screaming, too.

Instead he was forced to face his father. He saw his hopeful smile, strained to the point of breaking, and the bright shine of tears in his eyes. The grip on Rosinante’s shoulders tightened, fingers digging into tender flesh hard enough to bruise.

“Please, Rosi,” his father begged. “Tell me that you’re happy.”

Rosinante swallowed, and somehow managed to smile in return even as Doffy’s tantrum echoed through the mansion’s empty halls. He knew what he had to say, even if it wasn’t true.

“I am.”

Xxx

“Are you sure about this, Rosinante?”

Rosi swallowed hard. He loved Sengoku like a father, but there were times he hated being in the same room as him. People called him the Buddah, but there was no kindness in his expression now, only sharp lines and steep crevices that displayed both his worry and his displeasure. He had reservations about Rosinante’s mission, that much was obvious. What was less clear was why . Did he not trust his adopted son to do what needed to be done? Was he worried that Doflamingo would appeal to the Celestial blood that ran in his veins? Rosinante tapped his fingers in a sharp staccato beat against the arm of his chair. Or was he simply concerned about his safety?

No, that wasn’t it. Rosi had survived from hell and back. There was no pain, no weapon, that could compare to the terror of his childhood. Under Sengoku’s watchful eye he’d grown strong and clever. Clever enough to match wits with his brother, who was already amassing terrible power out of the North Blue.

Cipher Pol had tried and failed to infiltrate his crew. Mariejois had sent their strongest knights, only for them to return in body bags. Vice Admiral Tsuru had made it her personal mission to wipe the scourge of the Heavenly Demon from the seas, and yet not only did Doflamingo live, but thrive.  

Rosinante had known since Father died that he would be the one to end his brother’s madness.

“I have to do this.”

“He’s your brother,” Sengoku said.

Rosi’s grip on his chair tightened. “He’s a monster.”

Doflamingo, the boy who would kill his own father in cold blood. Doflamingo, the boy who swore his revenge on all the world. Doflamingo, who even before their banishment was cruel and hateful to anyone he considered lesser than himself.

Doffy, the boy who had yellow hair that burned like gold in the sunlight and a laugh colder than the glacial waters of the northern sea. Doffy, the boy with the charisma to draw people to him like flies to honey, only to pluck their wings and destroy their dreams with the crushing weight of his own ambition.

Doffy, his brother, who had kept Rosinante alive with nothing but spite and sheer force of will, who had always insisted on dragging him to greater and greater heights, whether Rosi wanted to accompany him or not.

Sengoku’s eyes narrowed, cold and calculating. He was a man used to making hard and difficult choices. But this was his hardest and most difficult yet, and Rosi wasn’t sure if it was because of any genuine attachment or if he was afraid of losing too valuable a chess piece in a rapidly changing world.

“If all goes well, you’ll be in a position to put an end to Doflamingo permanently. When that time comes, are you sure you’ll be able to pull the trigger?”

Rosinante didn’t hesitate. “Yes, sir.”

Xxx

There was no doubting that Doflamingo had greatness in him. It cloaked him alike an aura, some vestige of his celestial halo, inspiring  those around him. A threadbear, overstuffed seat became a throne if Doflamingo sat in it, his pink-feathered coat his royal vestments. Though he mingled with the small people of the world, the dirty and the downtrodden, he could never be mistaken for an ordinary person. The blood of kings ran in his veins, and the insatiable desire of his ambition would not be satisfied until he ruled the heavens and used the earth as his footstool.

Rosi wondered sometimes what would have happened if Sengoku had found Doffy instead. He wasn’t sure the wildness of his brother’s spirit could ever be tamed, but thought, maybe, that it could have been directed toward a noble purpose. The world needed good rulers just as much as it needed good soldiers, but as the years went on it became increasingly clear that neither Donquixte brother was able to adequately fulfill the role they’d been given.

“Corazón,” Doffy said, savoring the taste of the word as it rolled off his tongue. He loved using the name he’d trapped Rosi with, the title that told all the world who it was he belonged to. “How are the plans coming along?”

Rosi pointed to the map he had laid out in front of him as Doffy edged closer. His brother brushed away bits of cigarette ash, chuckling, “You’ll burn my plans to nothing if you aren’t careful.”

Cold sweat beaded at Rosi’s forehead, but he kept each breath even and controlled. It was just a turn of the phrase, nothing to get worked up about. There was no way he could suspect that he’d already alerted Tsuru of their position.

Doflamingo traced his finger over the map, mad grin growing madder. “I want you to look after Law.” He lifted a hand as Rosi stiffened. “I know, I know, you don’t like the kids, but this one’s different. He’s already proven he’s going to stick around, and he doesn’t have time to waste hanging in the background with Baby 5 and Buffalo. He needs to get his hands dirty.”

Rosi tilted his head in silent question.

“More dirty,” Doffy allowed. He tapped a knuckle against the map, where their newest mark was circled in blood-red ink. “Do you feel it, Rosi? His potential?”

It was rare for Doflamingo to ask his insight like this. As much as he was able to decipher Rosi’s looks and quirks with uncanny accuracy, they never had much to say to one another. There was too big a gulf between them to ever be bridged.

Doffy trusted him, else he wouldn’t have made him his right hand man. But he didn’t understand Rosi anymore than Rosinante understood the fury and madness that made his brother want to set the world on fire.

Or maybe they understood too well, while standing on different sides.

But Law...Law’s vision matched Doflamingo’s perfectly. His brother saw that, and wanted to steal the boy’s hate and use it to fuel his own ambition.

“Keep him safe, alright?” Doffy said. “I’m gonna need him around when he gets older.”

Even if he dared speak, Rosinante’s mouth went suddenly dry, constricting his throat and strangling what little air he had out of his lungs. He’d suspected already that Doffy was looking for a way around Law’s time limit, and if he succeeded…

Law was smart and he was fearless and he was angry. Oh, so very angry. Rosi saw the same fire burning in his eyes that shone in Doflamingo’s when they hung on the city wall. Once Doffy sunk his hooks into him he would never let go. Already the boy cared for nothing but the next person he could hurt. If his brother was able to channel those destructive instincts on his enemies then he might just succeed in bringing the world to his knees.

Rosi left Doffy to his maps, pausing only to clasp his hand on his brother’s shoulder. Doflamingo’s smile grew. “I knew I could trust you.”

Of course Rosinante couldn’t answer, so he left in search of Law. The knife wound in his side throbbed with every step. He couldn’t let Doffy have the boy; there was too much at stake. But neither had he succeeded in chasing him away. Doflamingo offered Law the one thing he craved, and like an addict looking for his next fix, Law would jump through any hoops to stay by his side. To learn, to grow, to destroy.

Sengoku would have said it was worth doing the hard thing if it meant keeping the world safe. History said his mentor and father-figure had put those words into practice often enough. But Rosi wasn’t sure he was strong enough to do the hard thing, the right thing. There had to be another option.

Except that was a lie. It was always a lie, and not even Rosi could convince himself it was true.

Xxx

“I finally found it! The Op-Op Fruit!”

Even in the cold, spots of fever bloomed on milk-white skin. Between panting breaths, Law rasped, “The building’s on fire...I heard gunshots, I thought...I thought something happened.”

Black stars danced behind Cora’s eyes. The pain of countless wounds needled the edge of his temper. “Knock it off, this is the fruit that’s going to save your life!”

“Even if I eat it, doesn’t mean it’s gonna save me.”

There wasn’t time to argue, for him or for Law. Cora forced the fruit down Law’s throat before the strength left his legs completely. Blood trickled down his cheek and stained the white snow red. He didn’t care. They’d won, it was over. He could take Law...and run...and be free of Doflamingo forever…

Cora almost laughed. He’d always been a liar, but even so. He usually he stuck to stories that were believable. His pulse thundered impossibly loud in his ears, almost drowning out Law’s hysterics at the sight of his wounds.

But Law...Law needed help. He needed someone to show him there was another way, that he didn’t have to fall into Doffy’s madness. And to do that Cora needed to survive, and his brother needed to be taken somewhere far away where his poison could never hurt anyone every again.

It was ironic, in a way, that just as Cora resolved himself to live that Law unwittingly sealed his doom. Perhaps it was inevitable. After all, People of D were God’s natural enemy. The same blood in Doffy’s veins ran in his, just as terrible, just as evil. Though he’d renounced his title long ago, there was a time that Cora had lived as a god. Delayed as it was, his punishment was just.

For some reason, Cora was okay with that.

“What’s going to happen to you?” Law asked. He settled down into the empty treasure chest, naked fear in his eyes. Cora didn’t think he’d have the strength to stop him if he did something foolish, so he smiled.

“Doffy wants you and the fruit. I’m his blood brother. He might be furious, but he won’t kill me.”

It was worth it to see the hopeful grin spread across his face. For all that he’d suffered, there was still an innocence in Law. He believed what Cora said, because it’s what he wanted to believe, even if it wasn’t true.

“I’m sorry for lying.”

There was a certain magic in those words, a panacea stronger than anything the Op-Op Fruit had to offer. For just a moment every hard line on Law’s face softened, and he looked like a boy again instead of the sick, angry man Doflamingo wanted him to become.

“I didn’t want you to hate me.”

Cora felt Law’s fists pounding against the rough wooden box. He had to hang on just a little bit longer now, and it would all be over. The sting of regret hurt more than the bullet wounds, guilt crushing him more than the blows of the Doflamingo Family. He was a good for nothing, sorry klutz of a man who made a disaster out of everything he touched. Even now, with everything all on the line, he couldn’t bring himself to pull the trigger.

“I didn’t want you to hate me.”

The darkness was coming in, enveloping him like the sable feathers of his cloak. His arms too cold and heavy to even lift his gun, but still he hung on. For Law’s sake, he would stave off Death for as long as he could.  

His breathing slowed, eyes too heavy to keep open. Time was running out. He’d told so many lies, he could only hope that Law would believe him when for once he spoke the truth.

“I love you.”

#corazon #donquixote rosinante #doflamingo #trafalgar law #one piece #One Piece Fanfiction #creative-type writes #sengoku #homing

[theangrypokemaniac]

Ma and Pa James's Second Biggest Fan (we plough a lonely furrow) continues to find Ma Jess's appeal mystifying, since everything about her is negative:

1. Signing up for Team Rocket suggests someone of a morally dubious character to start with, but the truth lies in the clothing, and she's in black!

Black!

It's code for her personality:

• Jessie wears white:

Pure, beautiful, innocent, sweet-natured, not really bad, dealt a severe hand in life but a fighter.

• Cassidy wears black:

EVIL!!! EVIL, EVIL, EEEEEEVUL!!! FOUL SIRENIC TEMPTRESS!!! EVIL HEARTLESS BITCH STEALING JAMES'S NEVER-BEFORE-SEEN WEEPINBELL!!!

Speaking of which:

2. She was Madame Boss's best agent.

You don't get there being kind.

To reach that standing requires hundreds of successful heists, and we aren't talking nicking gold bars. It's living things.

How many Pokémon do you imagine she stole with merciless efficiency?

How many children did she set upon, pinching every animal they had?

How many innocent lives did she ruin by depriving kids of the pets they loved, never to see them again, eaten away with the not-knowing and the false hope?

The glory of her reign ran on the fuel of blood and tears.

What fate do you envision awaited those Pokémon? It's not exchanging one master for another, it's entering slavery.

Jessie and James aren't the epitome of Team Rocket. They are minnows on the outskirts, despised and mocked by most of their fellow members. The actual group isn't particularly famous for prioritizing Pokémon welfare.

The preferable outcome is being handed out to agents to help catch other victims. Otherwise it's transformation into a war machine, forced to fight on and on to the point of exhaustion and death, no doubt tortured and tested on to boot.

What happens if they don't come up to scratch or are pushed for years until too aged and broken to be of any use? Are Team Rocket ready to pension them off to animal sanctuary?

As if. It's euthanasia or on to the streets to waste away, if not fed to the strongest first.

Ma Jess knew this and worse occurred thanks to her, yet paid it no mind, and felt not a single twinge of guilt in that time of service, then met her end trying to draw another Pokémon into imprisonment.

Some might say it was a case of what goes around, comes around. As her behaviour led to God knows how many Pokémon dying alone, leaving their loved ones to wonder and grieve, so in turn did she die alone in the snow, and Jessie had to carry on without her.

I'm not against Ma Jess, I neither feel like or dislike, but I don't understand how so many fans can happily overlook her murky past of inflicting pain, instead elevating her to a semi-divine tragic heroine, yet apparently Ma and Pa's heinous offences of not stealing and treating Pokémon well are beyond forgiveness.

3. It's the Red Ribbon Army! Save yourselves!

Jessie joined Team Rocket to follow in Ma's footsteps. James went with her. Both moved (upwardly in scale, downwardly in morals) from Sunny Town's gang of petty thief kids to a complex Mafia organisation stretching its wriggling tentacles around the world to crush the air from its lungs.

Why? Ma Jess's baleful influence led the two down that path.

Of course Jessie wants to copy Ma, how and where else can she feel close to her?

There's not even a grave to visit!

Rising in the ranks and Giovanni's favour is both to strike it rich and take her place, becoming Ma in essence. That would make her proud, which is all Jessie ever wanted.

What alternative is there? Stay with Chopper and Tyra forever, ekeing an existence pickpocketing and shoplifting, until mortality comes calling sooner than is welcome, or get loaded quickly and retire early?

James theoretically could've gone home at this point, but when it came to which angry redhead he preferred to beat him up, he chose Jessie.

He was henceforth obliged to go whenever she led, even if it meant following the ghost of her mother into the jaws of evil.

They have an excuse, but what was Ma's for getting involved?

However much they boast and revel in their wickedness, the motto proves the couple still believe themselves on a noble quest, despite everything to the contrary, and why?

Jessie isn't about to accept that Ma Jess, whom she's probably idolized as one of few people to love her and a role model of how a woman should be, was nasty or unpleasant. If she was in Team Rocket, it must be good, whatever the outer appearance.

Except Jessie and James are bad at being bad. They are not master criminals. All their plans fail, rendering them poor and starving in consequence. The inner circle of Team Rocket will always be barred to them because they lack the inner darkness it requires.

The joke is they flourish in any other occupation, whether that be Salon Rocquet, reporters, or flogging merchandise and food at the League. If employed elsewhere they'd be better off, but they have to stay because Jessie can't let go, or bear the thought she might be a disappointment to her mother's name. A different career looks unworthy by comparison.

What, so Ma and Pa have got no son because of Ma Jess? They just wanted him to be a gentleman!

If she hadn't set such a terrible example to her daughter she might have an increased quality of life, but then had she done so Ma wouldn't be dead in the first place.

4. Can't pick 'em can she?

What was it that first attracted Ma to Windy Miller? Does she go for the rustic charm, or the promise of a lifetime's supply of bread to feed the abundance of babies planned?

Don't do it, Ma! He's an alky!

Some birds are like that you see. It's the maternal instinct gone haywire. They find a local reprobate and somehow decide he's really a damaged soul crying out for love, the scapegoat of a cruel society.

He's not evil, he's just misunderstood!

This is why you get nutters wanting to marry the Yorkshire Ripper: they put his 'mischief' down to bad women mistreating his gentle heart, but they of course are devoted to his happiness. They can change him.

You don't know him like I do!

In their fantasy, under the influence of a 'proper' woman he'll transform in to a flower-picking hippie, but not too much, they still like him to be dangerously 'manly' (keeps 'em on their toes), then they can feel smugly superior and more truly female than the 'lesser' breed who failed to tame his sexy pashuns.

And if there's one thing Windy has in abundance, it's raw animal magnetism.

Stop it, Ma! You can't help those who don't want helping!

She put up with the boozing, the flour dust and his somewhat limited communication skills, but what really let him down was the company he kept.

Ever after she would insist Pugh, Pugh, Barney McGrew, Cuthbert, Dibble and Grub led him astray. That's firemen for yer.

Cuthbert? That name's died out.

Sure enough, some point after Ma Jess was stuffed up the spout, old Windy legged it back to Camberwick Green, like the rascal he is, and not a sweet penny piece did she receive in maintenance, the bastard.

At least Ma James got pregnant by a man who stood by her.

She wasn't married to Windy Miller!

Oh, you mean they were living over the brush? I see.

It's all in your head!

Do it my way, and we have Pa Jess. Do it yours, and we're back to a cavernous emptiness. Unless you can supply a picture of the 'real' (pffft) Pa Jess, this is the best available.

Anyway, 'Jessie Miller' just sounds right.

Coincidence? I think not.

5. She went to look for Mew dressed like this.

I could forgive it had she gone in her normal uniform, that's just whimsy, but to have made some effort emphasises that it's not enough!

Some part of her understood a mountain might be a bit parky out, but this was deemed sufficient coverage!

What happened?

She bloody died didn't she?!

6. Ma Boss points the way to doom.

Ma Jess was at least loyal to the mistress she served, but it was a wasted dedication. She squandered her life obeying a heartless virago who could cast aside apparently valued staff without a qualm, whatever thanks she owed them.

The millions Ma Jess accumulated for Madame are probably uncountable, yet she was so worthless that, when dispatched to the mountain, on her own, expected to catch a Legendary Pokémon, by herself, which many doubted even existed, and wasn't likely to come quietly, or put up with orders, but then didn't come back, Madame Boss allowed her only child to sink into poverty and the infamous 'care' of the State.

Everyone knows what goes on there. Entering a home has replaced the workhouse as the place of dread.

Jessie might have been killed or attacked and it didn't remotely concern Madame Boss, unwilling to spare a meagre fraction of her massive fortune to give the girl she made an orphan any comfort or security.

What did she matter? Her mother failed. Why reward that?

In her turn, Jessie became just as obsequious to an undeserving master, who went further than his mama and actively tried to murder her, and still she suffers to please him.

Team Rocket devoured her mother, and now it's swallowed her.

Oh, and Madame Boss got her way upon discovering Mew's fossil, so Ma Jess died for nothing.

7. This.

I'm not surprised Mew wouldn't go with Ma. She probably sensed the vivisection awaiting, and didn't give a toss about the avalanche in revenge.

Mew hasn't got where she is today falling for any old shallow promises from a stranger, thank you.

Suppose the mission had worked, with Mew caught and gift wrapped for Madame's delectation: what then?

Perhaps Mew's power, proving so impressive, would've pushed any cloning scheme aside, leaving Mewtwo unborn and Mew as the mightiest weapon. Or in greed Madame Boss demands more, and in arrogance the scientists promise the earth, the seas and the heavens.

Mew I could see subjected to some non-lethal form of dissection, just to understand how she ticked, that is if they could build the cage to hold her.

As they couldn't, and catching Mew was never a possibility, then Ma Jess's sacrificed herself on a fool's errand, which was obviously one from the outset. If Mew was easy to handle she'd have been captured long before now.

Either Ma dies, Mew's safe, but Madame Boss starts the cloning scheme anyway, or Ma's victorious, Mew is a tool of Team Rocket and the scientists have more sample to experiment upon. Mewtwo is still made, alongside short-lived creations and dozens of unseen freakish abominations preceding.

Now Mewtwo isn't what you call at peace with himself, nor has he received a particularly wholesome experience. One could think Ma indirectly caused that. Her branch of the project may have fizzled to cinders but she still played her role.

What would her legacy have been but to help bring forth the being that wiped out mankind? Where's the future for Jessie when there isn't one?

It's not her fault, but she died in the name of cloning a biological disaster, the creation of synthetic life leading to the destruction of it all.

8. Let's have a gander at Ma in the anime:

• Can afford rent.

• Can afford a tray.

• Can afford crockery.

• Can afford condiments to add flavour to food.

• Can't afford any actual food.

Something's wrong there.

I intended to include affording clothes too, but now I'm not so sure.

I never took Ma to be a brown-all-over kind of woman. At least she gave the fancy stuff to Jessie.

For years I've assumed she wore a brightly coloured jacket, but now I suspect it's a red one heavily patched up, because buying a replacement isn't an option.

Really old clothes are being mended with whatever can be salvaged from even more worn-out clobber.

Best agent Madame Boss has and she's practically living in her own filth.

Team Rocket takes care of its own, eh?

Oh no, let's not get a proper job, one that allows me to provide for my daughter and doesn't ask for my life. Let's stay in this one!

9. Look at Jessie's face!

By her own admission, being tricked into eating snow is the best thing that ever happened to her during an 'otherwise wretched childhood', to the extent she doesn't know it was wrong!

I don't hear Ma and Pa doing that. The only ice James got was an ice-cream sandwich.

What kind of infancy did Ma Jess give the girl for her to be nostalgic about almost dying of malnutrition?

If we say that's a foster mother as in the sub, it means Jessie's fondest memory is after Ma died, which is too brutal for me.

Yeah, thank goodness she's snuffed it.

You think Ma might have taught her not to eat snow! She left her so ill-prepared!

Consequently the sub version makes Ma Jess an awful creature, although I don't see why that Jessie would so desire to mimic a mom she apparently doesn't care about.

10. She's not even bloody here!

I have no picture to signify absence, therefore I must show whom she left behind.

Ma Jess is Pokémon's answer to Bobba Fett: background figure, barely involved, no information, dies early, yet became a fan favourite nevertheless.

If nothing really exists, what is there to like? Why are you contented weaving smoke?

When Rocketshippers put forward the manga as proof, the Anti-Ships used to insist that it 'didn't count' for being set in a 'separate universe'.

If that still goes, and only the contents of the anime apply to the anime, well then it's bye-bye to Ma Jess and Madame Boss, because they aren't real either.

I sometimes think that's true. However traumatic, would Jessie not have acknowledged her mother by now otherwise?

We grasp the characters all had two parents in a nebulous fashion, although not being real people means they don't 'technically' need them, but Ma Jess is the only one who vanished to be granted a face. Why is she then ignored?

She's briefly glimpsed in a passing scene of a single episode of the first series and is never seen or referenced again. The sub doesn't even have that. Where was the use in creating her if only to leave that thread of the tale billowing in the breeze?

We may decide her actions affect Jessie's but we're only imprinting assumptions. She might as well have remained unwritten for all that's made of her.

What we can glean doesn't bode well, irrespective of things left unmentioned.

Her one redeeming deed was dying, thus at least she didn't choose to abandon Jessie. We may presume she'd have stayed with her girl given the chance.

By my reckoning that puts her as Fifth-Best Mother Of Pokémon, behind Ma Brock, Ma James, Dame Ketchum and Ma Boss, in that order.

Then they're those who claim she never died, so she just pissed off like everyone else, rendering her devoid of a single positive quality.

This is the woman you sigh and agonise over for decades.

Ma and Pa are right there, man! Show 'em some love!

#team rocket #ma jessie #jessie's mom #jessie #jessie's dad #madame boss #mewtwo #kanto #snow way out! #the birth of mewtwo

[brunhiddensmusings]

Tell me more about this conspiracy theory about dragonball as a retelling of journey to the west please

okay, some of this is pretty surface level to the point its just face value but also just more ignored then denied firstly, i must establish ‘journey to the west’ to those not familliar with it- its a 2000+ page long chinese novel from the ming dynasty, like 1600 if i recall, but odd because it focuses on a buddist mindset in a time when china still considered buddism to be a foreign influence. the author uses fairly large sections to critisize the other contemporary options to buddism such as daoism (for being largely unconcerned with helping people or betterment) and confucianism (for being rigid to the point it cant adapt and promote extremely bloated beaurocracies incapable of doing much) as well as to extoll the upsides of budism (namely magic powers) and how badass demons are journey to the west is notable for being the origin of about 80% of all anime tropes and over a dozen anime and videogames are directly based on it son goku, unsurprisingly, is pretty much a dirrect anlouge for son wukong, the magical stone monkey king that was born with laser eyes spends the first 7 chapters becoming about (i lost count) 8+ kinds of immortal, learning how to shapeshift and fly from an old hermit monk, and pissing off most gods of any note and the entire bureaucracies of both heaven AND hell. as i said, this is face value to the point its pretty open

son wukong’s identifying features including a size-changing 8 ton iron staff, being pretty much indestructible even to major gods, being extremely impulsive and moderately arrogant, flight, and pretty much openly admits he has probably eaten some people. this should sound familiar however he is not the main character, Buddha himself buries him under a mountain (which has a magic seal on top because a regular mountain wouldnt be heavy enough to hold him) to try and teach him some humility (which fails) saying he needs to wait untill someone frees him in which case he will be endebted to and be the servant of said free-er. while we progress to the ACTUAL protagonist of the story a bald monk named Tang Sanzang is in fact the central charachter, although his name has been interpereted several ways including Tripiṭaka (also the name of the baskets of scrolls hes supposed to carry). the big B entasks he of the shiny head with the task of journeying from china to india to pick up said sacred scriptures so holy they can redeem anyone and then bring them back to filthy filthy china thats badly in need of these ‘morals’ things people keep talking about. but this is where you start to get a lot of ‘wait, that sounds familiar’ when i describe things like ‘bald monk’ and the adventures cueball the magical is going to go on with his companions of anime

because almost immediately after freeing son wukong from the magic mountain of sityerassdown and putting a magic circlet on his head that causes him great pain when baldy says a prayer to keep him in line (yes this is where inuyasha gets the ‘sit’ necklace) they come across a SHAPESHIFTING PIG DEMON who turns out inst all that bad a guy its just that his new wife is very upset because she thought she was marrying a handsome bishounen despite admitting hes a dilligent worker and treats her well because hes seeking attonement for having eaten people after being kicked out of heaven (where he used to actually be a bishounen in the celestial army) for hitting on women. yet another case of DOES THIS SOUND FAMILIAR

and i just now realize why he was wearing the chinese military officers uniform or at least would sound familiar to people who watched the original ‘dragonball’ and not just DBZ where oolong and the 50 other characters who were all established to be quite powerful when used cleverly were all relegated soely to be sideline cheer squad and ‘hey, remember these guys, from back when this wasnt the kiss goku’s butt show’- which is the point here following the original journey to the west story you started with the magical monkey shenanigans (check) then he learns from hermit (check) how to fly (check) and shapeshift (i guess they thought he was powerful enough without it despite it being one of his major go-to solutions in the story but i get that they already established thats a power someone else had so i understand leaving it out narratively) battling demons, gods, and pissing off the kings of hell and the emperor of heaven (check) and then gets humiliated by Buddha (absent, again i understand leaving this out for narrative tone and to avoid being overly religious in a kids cartoon despite actively leaving king Yema in the story) teams up with the bald monk who they initially clash but becomes his friend over time (check) who then becomes the main protagonist (major not-check) magical monkey jerk is repeatedly scolded for wantonly killing people and given a magical crown of headaches ( fail) teams up with shapeshifting pig who also becomes close ally with useful powers but has deep character flaws (check) and then team up with a dragon who ate their horse who then apologizes by transforming into a horse and then everyone forgets its a dragon (wait, what) and then team up with a river god named sandy (by this time the dragonball plot has already passed mars and is orbiting Jupiter because i think this is when frankenstein appeared and then king piccolo with his sons drum, tamborine, piano, and cymbal, i think goku kills one eats another and asked a samurai if he could eat the third but this is before they retcon piccolo to be a namek {eg- from the planet ‘slug’} instead of a demon because they keep waffling if demons are real) and is then followed by a long list of falling into traps laid by demons because the monk is naive, the pig is cowardly, the monkey is foolhardy, the dragon is too busy staying in his ponysona, and the river deity is carrying the bags narratively this is confusing for several reasons but i could literally teach a college level class on what DBZ does that no writer should ever, EVER, do and every friday to prevent unkind amounts of homework point at how original dragonball at least had narrative cohesion of purpose when it went off in left field but that's part of the journey- in original dragonball everything is a journey of the human spirit for self improvement, in original journey to the west everything is a journey of the human spirit for a shot at redemption, but in DBZ everything is goku is awesome and nobody else is worth his time unless they go ‘ha-ha, i am the most powerful fight punch guy in universe, we must fight’ because fuck anyone who isnt the most powerful being in the universe and even fuck them because they almost never have a reason for being the most powerful and its irritating how shit they are like some of them are mentally five years old who gave you the power to be this dangerous. whats odd is they specifically set it up several times that goku is supposed to narratively step aside and his son(s) step up to carry on the legacy in a return to the earlier more sensable formula, even presenting them as being less powerful as him as an attempt to move away form the absurd escalation issues the series had where goku can destroy a planet by farting yet every thursday they mysteriously find someone five times stronger then the last strongest person in the universe as that wasnt the point in either original dragonball or journey to the west where being clever was always far more important then being powerful, especially as son wukong was mostly more powerful then goku anyways but still got in monster of the week shenannegans not solvable by impulsive brutality. they knew this was a problem, they understood that the endless escalation had gone to the realm where the audience had lost any investment and nobody other then goku could be useful to the story to the point that they even had a WHOLE SERIES where to try and counteract the power creep they had some weird explanation goku is actually time traveled or cursed or some shit so hes only a kid and roughly as strong as he was in later episodes of the original dragonball..... close, so close to actually addressing the problem but also keeping so many other problems krillin moving into being the protagonist would have alleviated the majority of the problems DBZ had- the power escalation bullshittery and the complete lack of stakes as you know goku is going to punch the thing untill it explodes after six episodes of yelling and anything without ‘planet gonna go boom’ no longer seems like a problem worth caring about. goku being downgraded to being the impulsive muscle on a team that included others that were less overtly powerful but still narratively useful to the adventure would have also alleviated almost all the ‘everybody who isnt goku is a fragile useless  porcelain figurine of a child’ problems that are very counter-intuitive and kind of insulting: in original dragonball, for example, master roshi was the only known human capable of doing the kamehameha which took 50 years to learn (goku learns it by watching it once and that should have been the cap for him being overpowered{a rival teacher had a more powerful version that nobody else learns}), climbed the sacred tower which took 7 years (it took goku about a week, which is well within the realm of where escalation should be), and blew up the fucking moon but in dbz his ‘power level’ is lower then his pet turtle..... despite all of that and being the one who trained goku and krillin allowing them to be absurdly strong in the first place so they apparently forgot their own history.  so taking the actual good story points they aready had and throwing them in the trash is a running problem

they even had the setup for krillin being in peril continually, all the ‘krillin dies’ memes are about on par with how often every demon on the road (which they pass like gas stations) are kidnapping and trying to eat Tripitaka, whcih is framed as despite Tripitaka being powerful he isnt as powerful as his allies but never framed as useless, especially as even goku has to seek help frequently, often from non-martial sources instead of the ‘kung fu solves everything’ mindset im unsure if anyone will want to start a fight about my statements regarding daballz but im okay with an intelectual argument about its writing .... how do i tag this? i forgot replies dont let me do that but i need to learn how to tag my rants one of theese days in hopes they actually get feedback

[thethingsidonttellyou]

Runaway

Love, love can be a funny thing as well as a hurtful thing we can't measure love with length or time but with actions, we can try to put it into words but our feelings are sometimes unexplainable. Unattainable, no everyone feels love everyone loves & has love. I love you.. that is in today's standard just a phrase we use to show appreciation for someone or something but when told to another person it means more, it defines a relationship, family, friend's, coworkers, etc, but when I say it to you it means more, it means more than the letters that build the phrase it comes from the heart, my heart this broken organ that keeps me alive. The damage I have done to you my actions & my decisions have hurt & left you alone at times, times where I did not think of anything or anyone but myself. you say I’m a good person & I mean well but never had the proper upbringing or teachings as a kid & you're not wrong you have taken this broken soul of mine & thought me everything you know yet I still did you wrong & in the end, you left me everything I need to become the man I should’ve been from the start. I cannot apologize anymore for they carry no weight nor mean anything between us because I have overused it I can no longer say I am the man of your dreams because we are no longer together, there doesn't seem to be a future for us anymore that vision seems dark and closed, as we both try to get used to the reality of each other being a use to be I have it the worst. You have a family to help & friends who understand along with wanting nothing but the best for you, you're meeting new people & entertain others while I wallow in my own mistakes, I replay the last time you said you loved me & meant it without your eyes saying otherwise. I chose to be depressed I chose to feel misery rather than get up & do better for myself because that it is what I deserve for being selfish along with uncaring towards you when I had it, I don’t deserve happiness, not now not while you heal & move on from me I owe you so many hours & tears I owe you so many thank you’s & flowers, dates & massages. I will never be able to give you any of that & for that, I’ll suffer. I wrote some hurtful things I wish you didn't write, I wish I could go back & rip them out like I've done the past week trying to write this I allowed myself to put my emotions at the moment into words & they meant nothing I didn't digest my emotions I just wrote what I was feeling in the moment. This what I’m writing to you is me in my purest raw form, no ego just my raw emotions I hope while you read this you start to let go of me I hope you get what I am trying to accomplish, closure. I will never get closure from you & I deserve it ill probably try to find you in other people & fail, go home & refresh your socials like a psychopath, check our messages & hope I’ll see the three little dots from you typing. I carry so much emotion within that it is not healthy & I’m going to kill myself not literally nor right now not for a couple of months but that guy you fell in love with that spring of 2017 will be dead. I hope my memories live through you everything I ever did good & everything I showed you I hope you find someone someday that makes you cum as much as they make you cry, knows to put a cold wet towel over your forehead when you aren’t feeling well or knows your love for art like I use to. Our relationship should’ve ended when I got arrest but it carried on & it lasted & for that alone I deserve this misery. I hope you keep at least one memory of me with you forever I hope that every time you see a mustang on the road you hear me get happy or ask you what engine size & year, I hope every time u look up in the sky & see the stars you remember me always looking for the big dipper. I still remember the first time you ever posted about me April 1, 2017, I told you “I Love telling stories lmao” & you responded with “I love listening” you continued to post about me & I felt so loved I felt like I was doing everything right, I was falling in love. Every night I lay in my bed & keep thinking back at your junior prom, I still had my red mustang & we were supposed to hang with maggie but you guys took forever so I went to the gym & broken my apple watch, that night we sat in the back seat of my car & talked for hours as it rained outside & got foggy in the car, we made out for the first time back there & it was heaven, I swear I can still feel the awkward butterflies leave my stomach as we moved left to right with our heads, you took a picture with the caption “3:00″ you looked beautiful that night. We use to get frozen yogurt every day that summer you always looked so gorgeous in my passenger seat & I remember every single time we went we would always try new flavors & I would always overdo it with the toppings but you thought it was cute. We use to get hotel rooms just so you could fall asleep in my arms & so we could feel like adults living on our own, little did we know that would become a reality & with it came a lot of problems both between us along with finically but I always made it work, even when I only had $10 I would give it to you, make sure you ate & you did the same. Tell your mom I love her & I am so thankful for having her in my life & for everything she’s ever done to help. My heart hurts so much knowing I caused you all this pain I always wanted to marry you, have 9 babies but I will live on & never have kids if they are not sharing any biological genes with you, you’re perfect in my eyes & have never done anything to wrong me I don’t know why I keep looking for reasons to be mad at you, I guess anger is an emotion I know so well I rather feel rage if not love. You’ve always had my back but I must go on without you, for now, I ruined whatever small chance of us getting back together or at least that is what I think. You're the strongest person I know & I want you to become successful whether I am around to see it or not I'll also cheer you on even if it means from the bleachers, don't ever let lose yourself in emotions along with stress you got this okay you're smart & independent, you're a queen so don't let alone ever tell you otherwise. I hope school goes amazing for you I hope you excel like I know you will don't let others around you become an anchor like I was you deserve nothing but the best & don't forget that. I don’t know if I'll ever get over you as i did with my ex’s but I know you’ll never be replaced we are branded “&” behind our ears for never-ending i don’t ever plan on getting rid of it as it is a metaphor for what could've been, I’ve spent almost every day after work writing your name on a notepad hoping I will get sick of it but no it doesn't help I just turn the page & continue your name. I love you so much Maegan I cannot lie to myself & say I don’t & I know you loved me too what we had was real but at the end of the day I ruined it I want to apologize for hurting you but I can't anymore, it doesn't mean anything to you anymore I will continue growing & learning from my mistakes I made with you to be the guy YOU deserve but for now this boy is going to be 6 feet under. I love you so much & I hope you can read this & allow yourself to let go you don't have to reply or say anything, you can trash this email if you'd like or not even read it but if you read anything I hope you read these last three words... I Love You  C.G.

[thequeengem]

@wolfmanheath

Gemma Cabello was the embodiment of both sin and savior shrouded in an angelic light as she ascended the rickety staircase. A rundown apartment building in Queens is where her current presence was being graced, right smack dab where high crime and neanderthals must’ve settled when society made its place in the new world. The smell of intense body odor, smoke, and a few other unmentionables made its way up her nose and into her core. Usually, she wouldn’t be caught dead south of the Brooklyn Bridge since it was home to more...eccentric supers and humans alike. Not everyone conformed to her and Leo’s rule once they established their new empire over a century ago. Though no one would be as stupid to form an open rebellion, not while they amassed such a following, it was still unknown just how deep-rooted the resistance was in the outer borough territories.

Today was different.

The petite queen dressed in her finest white, embroidered dress that had fine detailing in how it structured her figure and flowed an inch above her knees, same colored flats that were trimmed in silver, while her hair bounced with each step forward into dangerous territory. The beat of her heart thrummed with newly ingested blood-- a couple of street urchins were very generous donors to her cause. Not only did she want to limit the number of eyes around the territory, but the energy gained was needed for the amount of compulsion required. Everyone in the building needed to be rewired, forged anew. Their memories shaped, thoughts rearranged and erased for her benefit. And the benefit of another.

Gemma Cabello was bounty hunting. She’d followed a trail throughout the city, that eventually led to crossing territories. It was a particular...scent that left an impression; one she hadn’t come across in decades. Not without a price.

Wolves were a rare species. Rare in these lands at least. With no vast woodlands, swamps, or ruins for them to claim for their own, most packs were located in less populous cities. Ones where ‘animal attacks’ were easily passed as a regular occurrence. While New York already had a high crime rate, trying to pass off a bear or mountain lion roaming the streets would be a migraine in itself. Gemma would know; her and the coven she ruled kept a strict set of commandments about their feeding habits. No deaths. The humans had grown in their intelligence since the 19th century. And now with the ability to tell how, when, and practically why someone had died, the usual trail of bodies they’d leave had to be swept under the rug and locked away with the rest of their skeletons in the dark. 

Humans finding out about their existence didn’t help either. While vampires could still hide their activities with compulsion and minor feedings, werewolves were a bit more...exposed. Strange gypsy families and unknown towns practically living off the grid were now hunting grounds for the moronically, ballsy humans who feel safe hiding behind guns. That’s why when she came across the scent a couple of weeks back ( one which lingered in Central Park, almost as if this pup visited regularly ) the vampire jumped at the opportunity. The opportunity to do something much more than eradicate. Than to add to the already growing pile of K-9′s across the country. But rather to obtain.

It was a ridiculous feat, her brother Leo had made that evidently clear when she’d done her first attempt almost 20 years back. Too dangerous to walk that fine line of training a mortal enemy. But Gemma had vision, and having a werewolf on her side would turn the tide in her favor no matter the opposition. They were strong, blood-thirsty beasts, with an undying sense of loyalty other immortals couldn’t obtain unless previously established before their turning. Gemma always held secret fantasies of having one to herself and molding them to her liking. A personal warrior at her beck and call ready to bend the world to her will-- the thought sent a thrill down her spine. It was more intoxicating than the high of a fresh kill. 

While her first trial run failed ( let's just say trying to persuade a pack wolf only bred trouble; the kind that ended in mass murder ) she learned that maybe it was an omega, a lone wolf that she should be targeting. And thus-- here she was.

The queen’s cerulean eyes drifted over multi-stained carpeting to the yellow colored walls. She’d made it to the top floor, where she knew from brief interrogations ( which were immediately erased from their minds, just as her presence and the hidden wolf in the attic were moments afterward ) that it only held one room: the loft. The shallowed drunk who smelt of cheap beer and desperation on the first floor let her know the loft had remained vacant-- until a few weeks ago. A woman whose arms were marked with bruises and eyes were hazy and heavy let her know about the occupant: she didn’t see him much, Gemma’s eyes glowed at knowing it was a man, and that he was young, kept mostly to himself, and was rarely here. A hoodlum who loitered outside let her know that he stayed in the apartment directly under the tenant and that he swore he’d heard some work going on one day. Like hammering and drills going on day in and out; the sound of chains, heavy chains hitting the ground. She’d had an idea about that. The wolf was probably preparing for the full moon-- to the best of his ability at least. Wherever he came from, he’d probably been with a pack and had a more bulletproof plan to how he handled his transformation. Endless woods or underground cells of the strongest silver infused steel were usually their go to. But now, being in the big city surrounded by potential victims...he was panicking.

Which was why Gemma chose the day of the full moon to find him.

Sure, she could’ve sought him out the day she’d come across his scent. Threatened him, beaten him, the like. But no, she wanted to play a different hand. One where he needed her, more than she did him. She needed the wolf scared, desperate. Hopeless.

Her glides forward quickly changed from steps of ignited purpose to the soft, delicate steps of a small girl as she now stood in front of his door. The strong coyness of her eyes and the sly, fox’s smile shifted to innocence. Gemma became the unsuspecting sheep in the wolf’s den. If only he knew of the devil rotting her core.

Her dainty hand knocked on the hardwood, while her eyes skittered to the ground to feign nervousness. Brushing wet tendrils of hair behind her ear ( thank heavens for the recent rainfall, now her drenched form would only elevate her pathetic stance ), the enhanced gift of hearing let her know those previous brief movements stalled the moment she’d knocked. A few seconds passed before she heard the groaning of slow footsteps across the floorboards. The boy hesitated, she could hear his accelerated heartbeat, before she heard a muffled “who is it?” on the other side of the threshold.

“Your neighbor,” Gemma chimed back, her voice as clear as ringing bells.

A sigh was released ( of relief perhaps? ) and something thumped on the floor. Something heavy...probably a weapon. Big mistake, she thought. Because she was a weapon herself. Locks unturned and chains were released before the door cracked open. The first thing she noticed was the blue eyes. Her neck had to crane just to see them. The boy was tall, slightly disheveled dark hair and a 5 o’clock shadow were prominent against his tan skin. Smooth muscle wrapped around his neck, down to the beginning of his chest which poked out of a v-neck shirt. The only thing more prominent than his stench was his eyes. Blue, just as blue as hers, but...icier, by nature. While his form could’ve passed for a man, it was his eyes that still withheld the gullible sense of childhood. They raked her form, took in the dampness on her skin and the white dress that clung to her bones from the harsh rain outside. In the time it’d taken him to answer the door, she’d wrapped her arms around her torso almost as if she were holding herself together. His nose flared as he took in her scent. Another reason she’d taken time to interrogate fellow humans was to help mask her scent with that of their mortality. It rarely lasted, but Gemma only needed the aid to get her in the door.

Gemma ‘fake’ chattered her teeth as she rubbed her hands up and down her forearms. Her skin was icy as it had been since she’d turned. But he didn’t know that. “I-I didn’t mean to disturb you...” she stuttered a whisper. “I forgot my key..and my phone died. I’ve seen you around,” she gulped. “And you’re probably the only one in the building who isn’t a criminal or contagious.” Or both, she wanted to add. Humans were tricky and unpredictable like that. Doe-eyes were enhanced as she licked her lips. His eyes followed her tongue with that movement. Bingo. “Do you have a phone...I could borrow. Maybe a towel...? I’ll only take a minute, I swear.” 

#wolfmanheath #still apologizing for this length ohmigod #para; 001

[bixshits]

Lost Odyssey - A Thousand Years of Dreams - Story Twenty-Five Transcript

Stones of Heaven

The waterfall lies deep in the forest, more than a day's travel from the nearest village.

It is said to be a holy place.

In search of the divine amid the towering peaks, pilgrims stand beneath the plunging falls in their final ascetic practise.

The water of the falls is freezing cold.

All it takes is a momentary lapse of concentration, and the person is hammered down by the rushing water.

The pilgrims call this waterfall the Stones of Heaven.

Heaven is testing their mental and physical strength, they say, by hurling an endless stream of "stones" down upon them in the form of the powerful waterfall.

"And the stones have a mysterious power," a former pilgrim says to Kaim with a pained smile. He himself failed in this final austerity, he adds.

"Different Stones of Heaven fall on each person. It's as if they can see into your heart."

"What do you mean?" Kaim asks.

"The burdens you bore and the dreams you dreamed in the secular world appear to you one after another."

In his own case, he says, what came to him first were the voices of women.

"The water plunging down into the basin of the falls began to sound like women's voices. Sweet voices whispering in my ear, voices sobbing, voices moaning in a lover's embrace... an incredible variety. And for better or worse I knew every single one of them. Some I was thrilled to hear again, while others I hated remembering."

"Meaning, you've gotten yourself into a lot of trouble involving women?"

"I have indeed. Not to boast or anything, but that was one battlefield I knew better than anybody. I survived, but I made a lot of women cry, and there were a lot of them I loved. My whole purpose in undertaking the austerities was to put that life behind me, but the Stones of Heaven know what they're doing. In the final, final test, they go after your greatest weakness. If you waver the slightest bit, you've had it. The water slams you down, and your austerities are over."

The man feeds a stick of kindling into the campfire.

"And I'm not the only one," he continues.

"One fellow heard the voice of the mother he hadn't seen since he was a little boy; another heard the voice of his dead child."

"Is it always voices?"

"I wish it were. If you hold up through the voices, the waterfall's mist starts changing into the shapes of people. You might see somebody who you hated so much in the secular world that you wanted to kill him, or it might be some loan shark you had to go into hiding to get away from.

One little flinch and you're done for."

This particular austerity can be performed only once. There are no second chances.

Someone who has persevered for a whole day and night but who fails in the end has no choice but to return to the secular world in defeat, as this man did.

"Not that it was easy for me to get on my feet again once I was back there, either."

The man chuckles and calls out to a young pilgrim. Or, more precisely, to a young man who was a pilgrim until a few moments ago, but who has just now dragged himself up to the lip of the basin in utter dejection.

"Hey, young fellow, the campfire's over here. I've got liquor to warm up your insides, and some fresh-grilled meat. Get a little of that in your stomach and you'll have the strength to make it down to the village."

The man now makes his living as master of the teahouse by the waterfall. Of course, pilgrims undergoing austerities carry no money with them, but the man is not expecting to become rich doing this work.

For bodies chilled by long hours of pounding under the waterfall, he provides a warming fire, food and drink, and sometimes even money to tide them over when they first go down to the village. Payment can be made at any time. The men can bring him the money after they have started to take in earnings again from the jobs they find in the secular world.

He sets no date for repayment. He takes no IOUs. He says he is fine with that.

"Aren't there some who don't pay at all?" Kaim asks.

"Of course there are," the man says matter-of-factly. "But I think my running this teahouse has another kind of discipline for myself."

"Another kind of discipline?"

"That's right. The Stones of Heaven will accept only the strongest pilgrims, the ones unperturbed by anything. The role I want to play is to accept the ones who were broken by the Stones of Heaven - the weak human beings. I want to go on accepting the weakest of the weak. The kind who not only succumb to the Stones of Heaven but who even fail to pay for their food and drink afterwards!"

"That is your kind of discipline?"

"Exactly. It makes for a hard living, that's for sure. I thought I was prepared to deal with cheats and weaklings, but there are a lot more of those than I ever bargained for," he declares with a hearty laugh.

But then he quickly turns serious and says, "To tell you the truth, I think of this less as a form of discipline than as a way to get even."

"Get even? With whom?"

"With those gods or whatever they are that keep hurling down their Stones of Heaven.

Human beings are weak - shockingly so, in the eyes of a God. But, I think, and this is not just because of what happened to me, that being weak is the best thing about human beings. Weakness can make us cunning, but it can also make us kind. Weakness can torment us, but it can just as easily be our salvation.

Don't you see? If the gods are hurling down their Stones of Heaven just to make people aware of their own weakness - just to make us savor our own powerlessness - then I'd just as soon drop my trousers and moon them. I'll slap my bare butt and say to them,

'I'm not like you! I'm not going to punish human beings for being weak! I accept them for what they are, weakness and all!'"

The man feeds a new piece of kindling to the fire and says with a shy shrug, "I guess I got carried away."

Kaim smiles and shakes his head as if to say, "Not at all."

"Tell me, though," the man goes on. "I see you're a traveller, but you don't seem to be a pilgrim."

"You're right, I'm not," Kaim says. "I was trying to cross over the pass and took the wrong road."

"Well then, as long as you're here, why not give the Stones of Heaven a try? It'll be something to talk about."

"No, thanks," Kaim says, smiling.

"Whats the matter? Afraid they're going to show you whatever it is that shakes you up?" The man smiles and nods. "Can't say I blame you, though."

The man is mistaken about Kaim. He is not the least bit afraid of such a thing.

What scares him is the opposite prospect. That of not being shaken up. Of encountering in himself a person unmoved by anything at all.

"Anyway, it would be suicide to jump into the waterfall without preperation."

"How's that?"

"It's freezing cold, for one thing. There's even colder water bubbling up from a spring in the basin. Even the most well-conditioned person has to be careful and take time to accustom himself to the low temperature. If you go in all at once, it can stop your heart."

The man jerks his chin in the direction of the falls as if to say, "Look at them."

Two new pilgrims are preparing themselves for the challenge of the Stones of Heaven.

The men appear to be brothers. The older one kneels at the edge of the basin, splashing himself and massaging the cold water into his skin from foot- to heart-level. The younger brother is too impatient for that. He wants to jump right under the falls. The elder brother cautions him and takes all the time he needs to accustom himself to the water's coldness.

He exudes the quiet power of one who has withstood the most rigorous training.

"Aha," the teahouse owner says to Kaim, smiling. "we're in for a rare privilege. I think we are about to see the first successful attempt in a long while."

"You can tell?" Kaim asks.

"You can if you've spent as much time here as I have. The winners and losers are decided before the men ever step under the falls."

Having completed his meticulous preparations, the elder brother enters the basin. Even then, the steps he takes are slow and cautious.

The younger brother follows him in, kicking up a spray with every step.

"The younger one is hopeless," says the man with a sigh, adding another stick of kindling to the fire.

"I'd better get the liquor ready now," he mutters to himself.

The brothers stand side by side beneath the pounding waterfall. The Stones of Heaven rain down upon them.

As the man predicted, the elder brother, utterly calm, stands up to the onslaught of images sent by the Stones of Heaven.

Also as the man predicted, the younger brother yields to the Stones of Heaven and is beaten down into the basin of the waterfall.

But then something happens that goes far beyond what the man predicted.

Writhing in agony, the younger brother bobs helplessly in the basin, unable to rise himself.

He is drowning.

He tears at his own chest. His heart is failing. He was not fully prepared to enter the icy water.

"Help me, brother, please!"

But the elder brother doesn't move. He remains under the waterfall in total concentration.

"Hey, what are you doing there? Hurry and help him!" the man yells, but the elder brother's expression remains unchanged. He never flinches.

"He's drowning! You can't just leave him like that. He'll die!"

The elder brother never moves.

He grits his teeth, keeps his eyes clamped shut, and shows no sign of moving out from under the waterfall, as if to declare, "This is it! This is the final test of the Stones of Heaven!"

The man screams at him, "You idiot!" and dives into the rolling basin in a rash effort to help the younger brother.

For the moment his untrained body hits the frigid water, the shock of it seizes his heart.

Still, he reaches out toward the drowning brother, who is sinking beneath the surface. A great shudder goes through him and with an enormous groan he takes hold of the young man's wrist and pulls his limp body toward him.

He tries to return to the shore, but his strength gives out and he falls back into the water.

Next it is Kaim's turn to dive into the basin beneath the falls. He takes hold of the two unconscious men and drags them toward the shore.

The tones of Heaven pour down on Kaim, and he is assaulted by one vision after another -

battlefields,

scenes from his wanderings,

shooting stars,

the climbing and sinking sun,

raging winds,

and countless deaths of those he has come to know on the road of his all-too-long life.

It will do you no good, he silently declares to the gods hurling the Stones of Heaven at him.

My heart remains unmoved. I have lived through a reality far crueler than any phantom you can show me.

Whether or not his life is a sign of his strength, he does not know. He will not boast of it, nor will he tell the tale to others.

He has, however, lived it; that much is certain. He has lived it through the years.

Kaim climbs onto the shore and lays the limp bodies of the teahouse master and the younger brother beside the fire.

As he warms himself, he thinks, The Gods who hurl the Stones of Heaven are inferior Gods.

If they could truly see into everything, they would never have been foolish enough to show Kaim scenes from his past. For what would disturb him most of all would be the unwelcome sight of moments from his own limitless future.

And if they were to ask him the simple question, "For what purpose were you born?" his knees would buckle in an instant.

The first to regain consciousness is the young pilgrim.

The teahouse master's condition is critical. Kaim's attempts to warm him and massage his clenched heart have little effect.

"Pull yourself together now! Look, we've got a fire here - the fire you built! Let it warm you!"

Kaim shouts into his ear until the man finally manages to force his eyes open a crack and move his purple lips.

"Is... is he... all right?"

"Sure, he's fine, don't worry."

"Oh, good... good..."

"Pull yourself together, man!"

"Tell me, though... is strength the same as coldness?"

"Never mind! Stop talking!"

"Because if it's true... if strength is coldness, I don't want any part of it..."

The man gives Kaim a faint smile and closes his eyes.

He will never open them again.

Human beings are weak and fragile.

All it takes for a person to die is for a fist-sized organ to stop beating.

Human kindness, on the other hand, may derive from everyone's profound awareness of the fragility of life.

Facing the teahouse master's lifeless corpse, the younger brother hangs his head and cries. This weak man, defeated by the Stones of Heaven, sheds heartfelt tears for the man who saved his life.

His strong elder brother, meanwhile, is still being pounded by the waterfall, unfazed by the Stones of Heaven.

Surely his strength will be recognized by the gods, and he will bring his ascetic training to perfect completion.

Still, Kaim finds the tear-stained face of the younger brother beautiful in a way the stronger elder brother's can never be, and he wishes that he himself could be moved like the younger man.

There was an unmatched nobility in the last smile of the teahouse master who gave up his life to save that of a complete stranger. Kaim wishes that he, too, could experience such feelings.

And what of my own face?

Living through a thousand years of life is not strength.

Yet, burdened with a life he cannot lose, will Kaim ever be able to change weakness into kindness?

This he cannot tell.

He can only live, unknowing.

He can only walk on.

He can only continue his journey.

Kaim looks at his reflection in the basin of the waterfall.

On the water's heaving surface, he sees the trembling face of a lonely wanderer.

#lost odyssey #a thousand years of dreams #1000 years of dreams #kaim argonar #seth balmore #sarah sisulart #jansen friedh #ming numara #cooke and mack #cooke #mack

[royalnovels-blog]

STH Chapter 88

Chapter 88: Offend Translator: StackThatCoin  Editor: AntiGod An ear-splitting noise of slicing was heard coming with the old man, loud and echoing in the emptied and spacious hall. Six dark swords were seen spinning slowly in a circle behind the old man, forming a perfectly round circle of swords. Invisible sword energies were shooting out from these swords, scratching on the pitch-black floor of the hall and producing a large amount of sparks. As the old man kept striding forward, fire sparks kept bursting behind him. The noise was so loud and jarring that it made those who heard it feel pain in their ears, and make their head spin. Just like Nie Baihong, this old man was also a Human Immortal of Gold Core realm, a Human Immortal with an extremely formidable cultivation. As a matter of fact, the six swords behind him were not real swords, but a strange sign formed from the leaking Core Energy from his body. It was similar to the footsteps left by Nie Baihong on the surface of the water, an external sign where a Human Immortal attracted the power of the Dao that existed in the natural environment. However, compared to the strange sign caused by Nie Baihong, the six swords appeared on the back of this old man had a stronger offensive strength, aggressive and menacing. If not because the floor in Heaven's Will Palace was protected by a formation, at least half of the hall would be dismantled by this old man. Haoying Xiong and the rest hastily rose to their feet when they saw the arrival of the old man, each addressing him as 'Elder Qin'. Haoying Fengying also bowed and greeted the old man hurriedly while secretly whispering at Wu Qi, "This man is Qin Xuewen, the Elder of Punishment Court and the youngest brother of current Clan Leader of Qin Clan. He is the Great-Uncle of Qin Qingshui, who is the Chief Supervisor of Scouting Office's Central Wind Guard, and he is cultivating with the 'Raging Thunder Sword' of Heaven Breaking Sword Sect. Bow your head and greet him quick, delay no more!" Haoying Fengying dared not to raise his head. He compressed his voice into a tiny thread and transmitted into Wu Qi's ears. The Great-Uncle of Qin Qingshui? Wu Qi suddenly recalled the long horse face of that man. He could still remember clearly that during the day when Lu Chengfeng was ambushed, how Qin Qingshui gave out the order to capture Lu Chengfeng and wanted to interrogate him. Qin Qingshui was definitely not Wu Qi's friend. Thus, it was obvious that his Great-Uncle wouldn't have any favorable impression on their first meeting. Wu Qi bent and bowed deeply towards Qin Xuewen, smiled and said, "Wu Qi offers greeting, Elder Qin. It is an overpraise to say that Wu Qi is an excellent talent. Wu Qi is just an ordinary martial art practitioner, joining Heaven Breaking Sword Sect is just to seek an opportunity. I'm not worthy of such a compliment." Qin Xuewen walked slowly in front of Wu Qi, and suddenly placed his palm over on Wu Qi's shoulder. He let out a loud laugh and said, "You deserve it. When I was on the outside just now, I heard your conversation. A five feet tall Nascent Embryo, able to keep thirty percent of energy… This proves that you have an excellent talent in cultivation. My focus on cultivation is the Raging Thunder Sword, a variant of Gold elemental sword technique. Your elemental affinity is Water, and as Gold gives birth to Water, I'm the perfect master that can teach you!" An invisible force of thunder suddenly burst out from the palm on Wu Qi's shoulder and rushed into his body, flowing through his meridians and rampaging within the body. With Wu Qi's current cultivation, although the force of thunder couldn't cause any risk to his life, yet it was more than enough to injure his meridians and even damage his foundation of cultivation. If thing got worse, this thread of thunderous force could even shatter his meridians into pieces, putting an end to his path of cultivation. Wu Qi was greatly shocked. Without hesitation, he took a few steps back. However, Qin Xuewen was like a shadow. Even though it seemed like he didn't move at all, his right palm was still tightly on Wu Qi's shoulder, and he followed Wu Qi's movement and chased up a few steps. A loud laugh came from his mouth as he said, "Be obedient, Wu Qi. It is your fortune to have me, the Elder, to take fancy to you. Now, kneel down and kowtow before me, and then you'll be my apprentice!" After finishing saying that, Qin Xuewen exerted more force into his right palm. Every single piece of muscle on Wu Qi's body started to shiver. The force of thunder was raging and surging wildly in his meridians, causing all his viscera to vibrate at an extremely high frequency. The powerful electric current was moving back and forth within his body, causing Wu Qi to twitch and struggle. The short hairs on his head were now all standing up, and a few dazzling sparks suddenly burst out from the tip of his hairs. Haoying Xiong and few others were looking at how Qin Xuewen pressing his palm against Wu Qi's shoulder, yet none of them dared to make any noise. A Human Immortal of Gold Core realm had struck and wanted to kill an apprentice who newly joined the sect. Although the apprentice was backed by Lu Chengfeng, a Duke of Great Yan Dynasty, yet who dared to say a word about it? Lu Chengfeng was merely a rookie who just inherited the title of Duke. If Wu Qi was backed by Yu Xuan or other people with similar backgrounds, people might think twice before hurting him. As for Lu Chengfeng? It was still far from that degree. A bright gleam was seen shining from Qin Xuewen's eyes. He stared straight at Wu Qi, who had his body trembling endlessly, and said with a faint smile, "Why do you still not want to kneel and kowtow? You know what? Having me as your master will bring you a lot of great benefits. The Raging Thunder Sword technique is the fiercest and strongest technique of Heaven Breaking Sword Sect. I don't care what grade of apprentice you are, I'll teach you the essence of it straightaway, isn't that enough?" Wu Qi's body had become stiffened, shivering uncontrollably under Qin Xuewen's palm. He felt as if his nerves and his corporeal body had been separated. No matter how furiously he roared in his mind that he wanted to take control of his body, he couldn't move even a single finger. His eyes went wide as he stared at Qin Xuewen. His eyeballs were slowly protruding from the sockets. It seemed they were almost ready to burst out from his eye sockets by the powerful force of thunder. "Kneel down, kowtow, carry out the ceremony of accepting me as your master. Don't tell me you are not willing to do it?" An unhappy expression emerged on Qin Xuewen's face. He sneered and said, "Am I not having the qualifications to be your master? Or, you think that I am not qualified to teach you? Hmph, don't you think that with that tiny bit of innate talent of yours, you would have a great achievement in the future. In my eyes, you're no different than an ant!" Wu Qi opened his mouth and wanted to let out a few words of cursing, but as all the muscles near his throat were numbed by the electric current, he couldn't roar out a single word. He kept staring straight at Qin Xuewen's face, and only an indistinct sound of airflow could come out from his throat. Blood started to flow out from his seven apertures, dripping down onto his fair skin that looked offending to the eyes. Haoying Xiong and few others still remained in silent. They had no courage to say a word, their heads bowed, as they didn't even dare to look at Wu Qi's face now. Even for Haoying Fengying, who had agreed to form an alliance with Wu Qi, was bowing his head, looking at his own feet quietly. The so-called alliance, the so-called code of the brotherhood, when they were faced with the mighty pressure from a Human Immortal of Gold Core realm, they were nothing more than a fart. Qin Xuewen laughed, a pleased laugh it was. Wave after wave of thunderous force kept bursting out from his palm, rushing and squeezing into Wu Qi's body. While laughing, he kept scolding, "You're really not giving face to me. I've agreed to accept you as my apprentice, yet you just keep your mouth shut and don't even give me a single response. Wu Qi oh Wu Qi, how should I teach you? Who is the person that gave you such an arrogant attitude, and not show any respect to me?" *Crack* A sound of cracking rung out. Qin Xuewen suddenly clenched his palm, and the tremendous force exerted by him immediately caused a dozen of cracks on Wu Qi's shoulder blade. Wu Qi was struck by severe pain, and it brought a darkness into his eyes. The innate energy flowing in all his twelve principal meridians and eight extraordinary meridians instantly came to a halt. They clogged up in a few meridians found on Wu Qi's left shoulder, causing the meridians to swell like some chicken intestines, expanding and protruding on his skin. It made his shoulder looked bigger. Wu Qi stared furiously at Qin Qingshui's face. He swore in his mind, no matter what background did Qin Xuewen and Qin Qingshui have, no matter what kind of a prestigious clan that Qin Clan was, he swore that he would kill every single member of Qin Clan. This was the second time that the member of Qin Clan was trying to kill him without any reason. The first time it was Qin Qingshui, but too bad he failed in doing that. But this time, it was a Human Immortal of Gold Core realm who struck personally! The innate water energy was still flowing slowly in the water meridians found in both arms, continuously swallowing and absorbing the thunderous force that rushed into his body. Among the Five Elements, Gold element gave birth to Water element. The Raging Thunder Sword technique which Qin Xuewen was cultivating with belonged to a variant of Gold element sword technique. Thus the thunderous force unleashed by him was a kind of Gold element energy. The innate water energy was now absorbing these thunderous force bit by bit, and turning them into Wu Qi's cultivation. Using his water meridians as the core, Wu Qi's blood had formed into two gigantic vortexes, that kept transforming the thunderous force and storing them into his water meridians. This was a cultivating technique that was completely different from those orthodox cultivating techniques. Although Qin Xuewen had formed his Gold Core and he owned an Immortal body, he still couldn't discover this miraculous transformation in Wu Qi's body. For those who were cultivating with Scroll of Stealing, no matter he was a grand thief or petty thief, he would be an expert in concealing his aura. If what he did could be easily found out by others, how was he going to steal the profound meaning of this world? It was all because of Wu Qi's body, which kept transforming the thunderous force, that allowed him to endure the torture and not get himself killed. If it was any other cultivators of Xiantian realm, having faced with the murderous struck of Qin Xuewen, their viscera would have long been burned into ashes by the electric current. "It seems to me that you're not willing to accept me as your master. You don't want to learn the profound technique of Raging Thunder Sword?" Like a cat toying with mice, a teasing smile appeared on Qin Xuewen's face. He liked to see how people struggled in a miserable situation, and he loved to see the despairing expression on other's face. Wu Qi was able to endure the torture for such a long time, this had brought him a psychotic feeling of enjoyment. The longer Wu Qi could last the better, as Qin Xuewen loved to play tricks on one slowly before killing him. "So, you're not giving any face to me, the Elder? Tell me, who exactly gave you your arrogant attitude?" Qin Xuewen let out a loud laugh. Haoying Fengying, who had been standing aside quietly for a long time, gathered his courage and raised his head carefully. Using a low voice, he said, "Elder Qin, Wu Qi is here because of the order from Princess Zhang Le." Qin Xuewen furiously turned his head, focused his vision and unleashed an invisible sword beam, striking Haoying Fengying and knocking him back nearly one hundred feet away. The swift and forceful sword beam sliced through Haoying Fengying's body, bringing away a dozen streams of blood arrows. Qin Xuewen roared angrily, "Who are you? Who gave you the audacity to interrupt me? What a manner-less dog!" Qin Xuewen's curse was foul, and it actually hit on Haoying Xiong as well. Haoying Xiong was so angry that his face darkened. If Haoying Fengying was a dog, didn't that also mean all the members of Haoying Clan were dogs as well? Although Haoying Clan had just risen during the last few hundred years, someone from their clan was one of the Nine Senior Ministers. Their clan was one of the top prestigious clans of Great Yan Dynasty! Haoying Xiong tilted his head up and gazed at Qin Xuewen. He strode toward Haoying Fengying, brought out a pill that healed external wounds and helped Haoying Fengying stop the bleeding. While busying doctoring his junior, Haoying Xiong said with a deep voice, "Elder Qin, I'll report to the Elders in my clan regarding what you had said just now." Qin Xuewen's eyes widened. He sneered while saying, "Oh? If that is the case, then you'll join him and lay on the floor!" Qin Xuewen retracted his right palm. Using it, he formed a sword gesture and pointed toward Haoying Xiong. However, Qin Xuewen never expected what would happen next. Right after he retracted his right palm, Wu Qi had moved. Using the quickest speed possible, and a secret method in Scroll of Stealing that would hurt his own blood essence, Wu Qi forcefully swallowed all the thunderous force in his body. As there was no more thunderous force that came into his body, he immediately regained the control over his body. He glared at Qin Xuewen furiously and took out a thick stack of Explosive Talisman from his storage ring. During the past few days, Wu Qi had purchased these talismans from Yan Bugui with a hefty price. They served the purpose of self-protection. Ji City was a place where one was vulnerable to get into trouble. As Wu Qi had inherited the basic instinct of Wu Wang, which he always equipped himself to the teeth, so Wu Qi waited until Lu Chengfeng had inherited the title of Duke. He then immediately used the gold and silver he obtained from Little Meng City and bought himself two hundred Explosive Talismans. The thick stack of talismans in his hand right now contained all the two hundred Explosive Talismans he owned. Using the quickest speed, he shoved all two hundred Explosive Talismans into Qin Xuewen's waist belt. After that, Wu Qi circulated all his innate water energy and exercised the escape skill of innate water. Within the time it took to blink an eye, he had fled to a distance of over few hundred feet away. Then, Wu Qi formed a finger gesture and shouted loudly, "Burst!" A miserable shriek, together with a loud boom, filled the scene instantly. The main hall of Heaven's Will Palace was enshrouded in a dazzling explosion. Under Wu Qi's divine sense, two hundred Explosive Talismans exploded at the same time. Previous          Main Menu          Next Click to Post

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[2centsofsilver]

8/7/17

This will be short because my melatonin is kicking in. I have officially been living in A2 since last Thursday (so, 5 days) and I don’t feel like I’m getting better emotionally. I survived my period which was just as bad as last month’s if not worse, due to suicidal thoughts and losing myself in my head. Now that I’m in A2, I’m still lost. I’m also lost physically because I don’t know my way around this town as well as I thought I did. I only live 1.5 hours a way from Kzoo, but I feel like I moved across the country. I have a few really solid close friends who I love so much. I didn’t see them very often before, but they were always still there. I don’t see them now, but why is the longing so deep in which I miss them? They haven’t gone anywhere. I didn’t move very far. I feel like I’ve been here months and it’s only been 5 days. I feel scared all the time and have been on the brink of crying the last 5 days, in parking lots. My therapist in Kzoo told me I won’t lose my need to often cry while having a roommate because she reminded me I usually do that in my car, but she also said she hoped I don’t need to cry as often anymore. She texted me a couple days ago to ask if things have gotten better, but I haven’t responded yet. People are so important to me, but how come I’m not important to them? Does anyone even care that I’m gone or lost? I fantasize about my suicide a lot. I think about... -People finding me OR surrounding me in a hospital bed -My best friends planning my funeral and contacting those who left me -Looking down on my celebration of life -Wondering whether or not dying would hurt the ones I love -Wondering whether or not they’d miss me forever, or only just at first -Wondering whether or not they truly want me to disappear -Wondering whether or not disappearing would do them a favor -Coming back to life, people having realized how much pain I’m in, and holding me really really tight I really need to find a counselor asap, but I don’t know about my insurance. It cuts off in 3 weeks and my new insurance starts then too. Therapy will only be covered if I see a U of M provider, but I feel stuck because I’m scared to drive downtown. I’m not buying a parking pass for campus, I’ll be relying on the public transit system. I don’t know how to ride a bus and I don’t have my m-Card yet. I have to get my M-card on campus, but I have to take the bus to campus, but I don’t know how to pay to ride the bus and I don’t know who can help me by trying it with me a few times. I feel like my roommate thinks I’m weird. I am trying so hard to be normal and nice. I really do feel I’m a super nice person. I haven’t created any drama. The only times I’ve talked about my depression were when I repeatedly kept not moving and staying at my parents’ house. And the other day I asked her about CAPS and finding a counselor and she was willing to talk to me. I just feel like she can see right through to how weird I am and what if she regrets choosing me? I hope I’m being impressive. I live in PT, which is SOOOO FAR from Central Campus/A2 in general. I live right on 12 which is M Ave. which leads you to 94 and 23. Don’t ask me how this road leads you to both expressways in the same direction. I get so turned around here. My perceptive map of A2 in my head is completely upsidedown. My friends Alex, Jess, Anna, Annie, Charlotte, Zach, Roopa, Andrea, Amber, Caitlyn, and Vartika all live here in A2. Specifically, Alex, Annie, Anna, Jess, Caitlyn, and Charlotte have been helping me a lot. Most closely, Alex and Anna. I don’t go to Jess very often because she doesn’t understand mental illness and it makes me feel inferior. So far I’m very sad and lonely here. I feel isolated and depressed every day. I am trying to get out of the house more and be gentle with myself. Now that my period is over, I am challenging myself to get things done on my to-do list. Today I enrolled in student health insurance, ordered contacts over the phone, contacted my employer with available hours, signed my student loan MPN, bought new gym shoes, bought a recycling bin, did laundry, showered, talked to Anna, got lost again in PT/Ypsi, online shopped for dishes/comforter/sheets/shower curtain, talked to my mom on the phone, made a to-do list, and decided I’d start at the gym this week. My roommate is so on top of life and I have depression and am barely keeping up. It’s definitely teaching me to be more organized, but I can only last so long. I need to leave my shit all over the floor sometimes, so I look forward to Wednesday when my brother brings my bed so I can just spend time in there crying and sleeping. I feel like my best friends don’t want to be friends with me anymore. Obviously, this is depression lying. I know it’s not true. What Anna doesn’t understand is that depression is NOT just literal thoughts- it’s actual feelings. I can’t say I have actual cognitive thoughts of “I want to kill myself.” It’s an overall feeling that has completely swallowed me day to day. HOW DO I ADEQUATELY DESCRIBE to my friends the deep painful twinges I feel inside my stomach? They get those too right? People know the feeling? Why do I want people to know so badly? I always feel like.. if people knew they could help me. Or love me a little harder. It all comes back to filling of that void I talked about in the “Getting High” post. To my best friends- I feel like I’m going to lose you. I’m sorry that I’m not doing well. I just don’t know what to do. I don’t know who to turn to or what to DO. I feel a real urgency to get help and ACT every time I feel pulled under. I’m sorry that I’ve needed you so much in my short time here so far. I feel like you’re getting annoyed with me. I don’t know if that’s a depression lie or not. A2 is a place I used to like. I used to envision myself thriving here by partaking in progressive social movements and being myself. But I envisioned living in Kerrytown and making friends with ‘certain type of people.’ I don’t know what I did wrong, but I tried really hard to find a roommate and place to live. I didn’t fail, right?  Why do I feel like I made the wrong decision and got stuck here out of force and like that day came before I even knew what was happening? I don’t feel I’m on top of it enough to be successful in a Masters program. My depression is too severe. My period is over and it hasn’t gotten better. I really need to see a counselor asap. I don’t like A2 anymore because it’s SO associated with negative memories: Holly, NR (2 entities that hurt me), ABA, no Lake Michigan, and bustling Detroit traffic that makes me feel industrialized when I know I’m pure. I’m hungry all the time and feel like I’m trying to thrive in WHITE SPACE, like the background in “Harold & The Purple Crayon.” My roommate is so clean and organized and a responsible, functioning adult. I feel weird sprawling out on this couch, like I’m not allowed to or like it’s not appropriate or something. She owns every kitchen utensil in the world and knows how to use all of them. I eat icecream for lunch and pretzels for dinner. On the one hand, isn’t it healthy (if someone didn’t know me at all) that I’m seeking help as someone with severe depression?  Yesterday one of my good friends asked me, “Hey, have you ever considered that maybe you have a mood disorder?” YES- I have been 100% professionally diagnosed with Bipolar II and I take mood stabilizers. I know she meant well though. At this exact moment, I hate myself for being so self-consumed when writing about myself and talking to others. I remember back in the day, I was only wrapped up in the lives of others- helping others, being there for others. THAT’S STILL ME.  I already envision myself taking an academic, medical leave of absence for suicidal depression. Birth control cures PMDD, but causes blood clots, which kill you. So I have to just keep wanting to kill myself, in order to survive. Makes sense right? I miss my grandma and frequently wonder whether she thinks I’d be happy in Heaven.  I broke out in Hives a few weeks ago and my Dermatillomania has been like, the worst it’s ever been and my roommate wants to play tennis with me and I don’t know how to handle that. I feel like people who pull their hair and wear hats or draping clothes to hide their cuts or whatever. It’s all the same. I am NOT ready to start school in 3 weeks. I would feel more ready if I could sit down with an academic advisor, knew how to pay my tuition, knew how my loan works, knew where to go for orientation, knew were my classes and building were, knew how to ride the bus, had someone to go to the potluck with, etc etc. Maybe Alex would be willing to explore with me this week/weekend. Only 2 more nights of sleeping on a deflated air mattress. I’m sorry to the people I love for being a burden. Is it okay I love you? Is it okay you’re my best friends? Are these things okay with you? Dear Katie, Keep being strong. Your real self loves you, that’s me. I’m rooting for you all day every day. I’m who gets you out of bed each day. I’m who believes in you. I’m who responds to you when you ask mental questions. I’m the rational voice. I’m your comfort. I’m your immediate response when sometimes people can’t respond right away. Dear Katie, You are the strongest girl alive. You constantly do things every day that are hard and you always try and find something to smile or laugh about. Little things add up, such as the cashier at Whole Foods and the guy at Dunham;s too and the girl in front of you at Blaze Pizza today.  Dear Katie, I know things are hard and you want to die. But no you don’t. You want this pain to go away. You want to escape being a burden to others. I know it FEELS like you’re being annoying, but the people you feel you’re annoying are still here. I know you always think they’re always considering abandoning you. I know you feel you’re worth nothing in this world. But you are the whole world. You make your dreams happen. You believe other people are capable of achieving their dreams, too. Dear Katie, I love you with all my heart. Thank you for always listening to me and following me as your heart. I know things are hard for you all the time, but your will power sings songs of hope and compassion. You want to make this world a better place, but you are that better place, in this world. Dear Katie, Your friends and I love you very much. Keep holding on and love yourself. You are doing no wrong in desiring support. Your desperation will be addressed soon by someone who can help you. You got into the best school in the country and you made this happen; it didn’t happen accidentally. Dear Katie, Re-create yourself. You are the power of the universe. You have stars within you. Mrs. Urban is sending you these stars. Grandma is sending you smiles. The others in the sky are watching eagerly to watch your accomplishments flourish. Dear Self, Just keep going.  Love, Your Guiding Angel