#like if you entered the season thinking he was an evil little man and left it loving him i don't think it was because of an arc

[ladyluscinia]

Oh and since I am already rambling about Izzy's leg and "redemption arcs" tonight - I don't think I commented on this before because no one I'd been talking to about the season has this mindset, but I just want to acknowledge for the record that the idea Izzy went through a successful "redemption arc" is lowkey ridiculous?

Like *I* do not have issues with it because I don't think he did anything he really needed to be redeemed from with the crew. He was mostly an antagonist due to situational reasons and the situation changed, ergo now he's their friend. Minimal characterization-based hurdles involved. The only place he needed to actually talk through some healing and accountability was with Edward, and that's complicated by a) how I am actually criticizing that as unsatisfying, and b) the story tipped the balance of "harms that need to be addressed" so heavily toward Edward that it feels mostly pointless to bring up Izzy anyway. Broadly? Izzy's cool, and he bonded with the crew.

But for people who actually still think Izzy left S1 needing to be held accountable for crimes or overcome some internalized biases he had...? Um. That didn't actually happen on-screen. My guy pretty much got tortured a whole bunch and then given some community support. He's expressing pretty much the same values in 2x01 as he is in 2x06, minus maybe some self-worth (provided by the community support). If you think this a departure from his 1x10 characterization, then all the "redemption arc" growth happened between seasons in a timeskip and as a direct result of being tortured?

Which sounds the opposite of satisfying?

I mean, again, I think the only important realization he makes between 1x10 and 2x01 is "Kraken Era = Bad" and maybe reluctantly accepting "shit Bonnet wasn't just a fling", neither of which is groundbreaking enough he needs to have them on screen, and that his S2 arc is about breaking up with Edward / that self-worth which we do see. But if I thought it was a redemption arc about growth from S1 I would have notes.

#our flag means death #ofmd s2 #ofmd critical #this is mostly just funny to me. like people thinking he went through an offscreen la croix version of theon greyjoy's arc??? #and it somehow made him a better person??? (also on a serious note how *punitive*) #like if you entered the season thinking he was an evil little man and left it loving him i don't think it was because of an arc #i think either you don't really question framing - s1 izzy sucked because stede pov said he sucked and s2 izzy is framed better #or you picked up the s1 evil izzy meta position without really integrating it into your read of the show and casually dropped it in s2 #when the show did not linger on his supposed multitude of bigoted crimes like the writers of that meta position said it would #izzy hands ofmd #ofmd meta #ladyluscinia

[crisalidaseason]

Ties with frayed ends

Summary: The table scene from Mikasa's perspective, also, she refuses to see Armin being beaten. Content Warnings: spoilers season 4, slight canon divergence, angst, violence, eren being cruel, some dialogue is taken from the table scene, mean eren, toxic eren, platonic arumika, mikasa loves armin very much, mikasa and eren are SIBLINGS here, strictly siblings, mentions of declining mental health, nightmares, night terrors, insecurities, mentions of blood and broken bones, a little eremin if you squint very hard.

Mikasa was numb, hearing and watching everything as if she was outside or her body. The boy - no, the man - seated on her left was far from the sweet green-eyed brother she grew up with. He had an indifferent face, eyes a dull color with all life drained from it. As the blood ran through the cut on Eren’s hand, staining the table cloth, Mikasa wondered if this stranger deserved the name. 

“I just wanna talk to you” Eren’s voice was just as dead as his eyes, but Mikasa’s ears were too muffled to even register that. 

The Ackerman's feelings were in shock, but her instincts caught the trembling of the young girl across from her. She should have known, should have taken her out of that place. No matter what Eren’s words were, Mikasa could feel her senses burning and screaming that something would go horribly wrong.

“More conflict isn’t necessary to solve eldia’s problems…” Eren continued, and at that point Mikasa was only hoping Armin was paying attention.

She looked at Gabi again, still terrified. Her eyes landed on her brother. It was him. That moment solidified what Mikasa feared to even think about in the dead of night: her brother was turning into someone’s devil, his very name and presence causing fear in young hopefull children. Mikasa felt sick, she remembered all those years, listening to the cries of mothers, fathers, lovers, sons and daughters who mourned the ones claimed by the colossal’s first attack. 

“...attack Marley on your own?...” the familiar voice of Armin sometimes brought the girl back to the present. 

She looked at her friend for the first time since entering that room. Her precious Armin. He had bags under his eyes, a horrible shade of purple that never abandoned him. He was speaking, his voice just as soft -and yet firm- as it always had been. He was always such a comprehensive friend, but also his constant need to understand the full story often sent him into such horrible places. His lips moved, his blond eyebrows frowning. He wanted to understand Eren, he always did. 

“I am free, Armin” Eren’s deep voice finally broke her haze. 

Freedom. She wondered what he meant, if he ever knew freedom at all. 

“My actions are governed by nothing but my free will” he said again, eyes dead, so dead. 

He is lying, lying. The voice inside her said. She knew her brother, he was lying. She knew him, didn’t she? He would not choose to do those horrible things, her brother was not like that. Eren had his fair share of crimes, so did she and Armin and everyone else, but he would never…he would not do all of that on purpose. Eren was not evil, she could not bring herself to accept that. 

Armin spoke again, but she could not hold herself anymore.

“No way” she spoke for the first time, her voice harsher than she would ever speak to him “you’re being manipulated. The Eren I know would never involve civilians and children in a war even if they were enemies”

His eyes were so dull, so dull.

“And you wouldn’t risk our lives either!” she continued “you care about us, don’t you?”

She was not fully aware, but Armin’s hand touched her elbow, slightly trying to pull her down, yet she still stood up. Her mind and body were restless.

“You rescued me from that cabin, you wrapped this scarf around me” she felt her eyes sting, her hands holding the red cloth “you’re a kind-”

“I said keep your hands on the table, Mikasa!” Eren firmly exclaimed.

Silence. Mikasa felt her eyes burn in solidarity to her chest. He was never the most quiet person, neither held his rudeness around her and Armin when his feelings were all over the place, but something about his words, his face, felt different. She sat down, feeling her legs wanting to give up, then she noticed Armin’s touch. 

“Back in Liberio, I spoke with Zeke. Brother to brother”

Brother? Her throat went dry, the stinging in her eyes suddenly running down her body, stopping on her trembling angry hands. Brother. Zeke. A man who Eren never met before, a man who murdered their comrades as if he was playing, a man who was never there when Eren had fevers, never cleaned his cuts and bruises, never comforted him in moments of grief and neither celebrated his moments of joy. Zeke was never there, but she was. How dare he call Zeke brother.

“I don’t-” Armin’s eyes were wide.

A gasp from Armin sent her back into the present. She was succumbing to distractions, she needed to return. 

“If memories play a major role in shaping us into the people we are, then part of you has become Bertholdt” Eren spoke, his green eyes burning on his friend “within you is an enemy who has feelings for another enemy. Do you understand? Bertholdt has gotten into your head, you’re the one being manipulated by the enemy”

He did not. Eren did not say that. Mikasa was torn between shedding tears and breaking something. He had no right to do that, he had no right to poke at Armin’s fears knowing all of those horrible nights in which the blonde screamed after a nightmare. Bertholdt’s memories haunted the blond boy for so long that Mikasa worried that her friend would never recover. 

ººººº

“I feel as if there is someone sharing my mind, my body. And they are so many, Mikasa, so many!” the blue eyes were full of tears, his entire body shaking violently, his voice falling him after waking up screaming. Mikasa could only feel her heart twist at the sight of a nightmare frightened Armin. 

“I’m here” she would say to him, embracing Armin’s shaking figure. 

“Where is he?” Armin would whisper.

“Not here”

ººººº

“Why would you-” Mikasa yelled, her anger was already coming to the surface. She had shown Eren her wrath before whenever he was slightly rude to Armin, and she would not hesitate to put her brother in his place, she would-

“You’re being controlled too” he directed his vile speech at her “the Ackerman clan was designed to be perfect to protect their host.”

Shut up, she wanted to say.

“Your ackerman instincts were dormant until that life or death situation in which you heard me order you to fight. The strength and certainty you felt that moment were awakened because your blood mistook me for the host you were made to protect”

“That can’t be” shut up.

“Why not?” he continued, his eyes burning her this time. Her eyes also burned, the tears were forming. She knew it. 

“It wasn’t a mistake” her voice was failing her “it’s because it was you, it had to be you, you are why I became strong! how could that be a mistake?”

“As an ackerman with awakened powers, you’re apparently supposed to get headaches frequently” Eren ignored her pleaded “Research said it’s the Ackerman trying to resist being forced to protect their host. Sounds familiar?

“You’re wrong” Mikasa wanted to scream, but she could only whisper.

ººººº

“What if I am…just a tool” she confessed on a late night insomnia session with Armin and Eren “What if they’re right?”

The trio was laying on a small bed, Mikasa laying on Armin’s stomach and her feet resting on Eren’s lap. Armin was looking at the ceiling, the thin pillow supporting his neck from the cold wall, he would occasionally put little braids on Mikasa’s hair to occupy his hands. Eren was almost dozing off, he had tried to stay awake with the other two insomniacs but always ended up sleeping. 

“They are not!” Armin said, tugging one of her braids softly “You’re Mikasa and that’s all. You’re my best friend, Sasha’s biggest torment, Captain Levi’s bane. 

“You’re fun, your dry humor is one of the best things whenever dinner is miserable, your also have the best gossip to share and the worst advice” Eren commented, his speech slurring. 

She laughed, rolling her eyes at them. She was horrible comforting people.

“You know what I mean”

“And I also know it’s irrational to think you’re just a mind controlled person” he firmly told her “let’s forget this nonsense, hm? What do you think about stealing something from the kitchens” Armin said, looking at her with his menacing smile, like the little thief he was. 

ººººº

Eren knew how she felt about being diminished as a person, how people were quick to judge her actions and behaviors with no grayscale. He knew how dehumanized she felt and yet there he was, reminding her of the quiet insecurity that haunted her deeply. 

“What I am saying is that you belong to a clan that was created to protect and obey. You are slaves” he almost seemed proud of every word he uttered. 

“Stop, leave her alone!” Armin yelled at Eren, which almost distracted her. Armin was never one to yell unless severely distressed. 

“You wanna know what I hate more in this world?” Eren ignored Armin, eyes still focused on hers “anyone who isn’t free, you are no better than cattle”

“Eren” Armin’s warning tone reached her eyes.

“The mere sight of you has always made me so angry…now I know why. I could not stand seeing a slave with no mind of her own, who always followed orders without question”

Shut up, shut up, shut up! She wanted to scream, punch, hurt him. He had no right to say those things to her, to Armin, to anybody!

“Believe me when I say that, Mikasa” his voice would forever haunt her “ever since I was a kid, I hated you”

Time seemed to stop, the words repeating and reverberating in her head. She searched for a single drop of regret over his words, and she found none. She found dull and dead green eyes, his venom filled voice consuming her heart. Her blood was so loud on her ears that Mikasa almost did not register when Armin lunged himself across the table with a cry of rage. In a matter of seconds, her body acted faster than her mind, and she pinned the blond boy on the table before his fist could collide with Eren’s face. She looked at her hands, at Armin’s blue eyes filled with pain, reflecting her own hurt feelings. 

What have I done, she thought, Why am I protecting him if all he does is hurt us?

Mikasa let go of Armin, looking hatefully at her own traitorous hands. At that point, she had no strength to stop the blonde, she had no right to restrain him after what Eren told him. Eren was no more, the man in front of them was not her brother, her friend. He was a stranger, lost in the threads of her memory. She was tired, she was so tired. Her heart was in so much pain that Mikasa feared it would give up beating.

What have we become?

As soon as Armin’s fist made contact with Eren’s face, she knew this was over. Armin’s burst of anger was the proof she needed, they were not a trio anymore. Eren left them for good, so distant that she would never be able to reach him. Armin was all she had left, and as Mikasa watched Eren pull the blonde by the collar and throw him on the ground…she snapped. If Eren was no more, he would not touch anything precious to her. Never. 

Against her own heart and mind screaming at her, Mikasa jumped over the downturned table and grabbed Eren’s shirt, yanking him back. 

He is your brother!!

Her punch broke his jaw.

He is Armin’s friend, he loves him!

The other punch cracked Eren’s nose. 

He is not lost, we can’t save him!

She cried, screamed. Her tears mixed with the blood pouring from Eren’s nose. If her brother was trying to defend himself, she did not notice it. She kept going, punch after punch. 

Why are you doing this! Stop, Mikasa-

“Stop!!” Armin’s voice took her by surprise “Mikasa, stop!”

She felt Armin’s hands digging into her sides while he tried to lift her from Eren’s middle section. The blonde was not weak as the others said, he had a considerable amount of strength, but Mikasa had monstrous force whenever she was out of her mind, the blond struggled to lift her, resorting to words.

“Mikasa, we need to leave. Now!” He yelled “the others need us!”

She stood up, eyes hyper focused on her bloodied brother. She saw the damage’s result on her hands, still trembling. She had done that, she…she hurt her own brother. 

“Mikasa” Armin pleaded, trying to catch her eyes “we have to go”

Mikasa was breathing heavily, her throat felt like sandpaper, a result of her screams of rage and sorrow that she did not remember uttering, but all the soldiers, Armin, Gabi and Eren himself witnessed. 

“We lost him” Armin’s voice was nothing but a whisper, a pained one.

She finally landed her eyes on her friend. He had a visibly broken nose, which made her cringe at the sight of his face swelling. She hesitated for far too long. 

“We lost him” she whispered back.

Eren’s groans caught her attention again. He was still on the ground, holding his stomach where she most likely kneeled him. He had blood all over his face and staining the floor. Mikasa felt horrible. Everything was wrong. They were supposed to see the ocean together, travel the world together, maybe come back to some peaceful place and live together. They were meant to be three in one. 

But Eren was never within reach.

#i wanted pain #I think I am shadowbanned #:( #but okay #i will survive #eren jaeger #eren #eren x armin #armin arlert #eremin #mikasa ackerman #mikasa x armin #arumika

[finniestoncrane]

🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛ The Batman, by Jonathan Crane 🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛

tis the season!! i wanted to do a little something extra for today, and it is his holiday after all so please, enjoy this retelling of The Raven, written by Jonathan Crane about a visit from another flying burden that plagues him

Once in Gotham city, dreary, as I studied, weak and weary,

Over many a strange and villainous study of my subject, fear

While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,

As of someone gently rapping, coming dangerously near

“Tis some visitor” I muttered “who has dared to come this near –

Edward likely, Edward’s here.”

Ah distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,

And each separate thought that entered left my reason not so clear.

Eagerly I wished the morrow, vainly I had sought to borrow

From my books surcease of sorrow, that nobody might appear

For the rare and radiant joy, perhaps, that no one would appear

Leaving me alone to fear.

But the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each orange curtain

Thrilled me – filled me with fantastic terrors never felt sincere

So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating

“God damn Edward, that idiot Nygma, has decided to appear

So late at night, encroaching, he is bound now to appear

How I wish he’d disappear.”

Presently my soul grew stronger, hesitating then no longer,

“Ed” said I “dear Edward, though your habits usually queer

You’ve intruded on my plotting, focused on my latest toxin

Coming to me, late this evening, uninvited, you’re right here

So out of rage, I did ignore you” – I threw open my door here

Darkness there, stoking my fear.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing,

Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream sincere

But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token

And the only word there spoken were the whispered words

“Do you fear?”

This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the words,

“Fear… fear…”

Merely this, sounding so clear.

Back into my chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,

Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.

“Surely” said I “surely that is someone at my window shutter

Let me see, then, what it is, and this mystery made clear –

Let my heart be still a moment, please, this mystery render clear –

It’s just Edward!” said with fear.

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flap and flutter

In there stepped that cursed Batman, donning in all his foolish gear

Not the least obeisance made he, not a minute stopped or stayed he

But with mien of demon or deity, perched on broken chandelier

Perched, the hinges rusting, on the broken chandelier

Perched with dark, perpetual sneer.

Then this fiendish man beguiling my prior fear to smiling

By the grave and stern decorum of his serious veneer

“Though your presence here is looming, I assure you there’s no glooming

Ghastly Batman, bring no doom in, though you try to domineer

So tell me, what you think you’re doing, trying hard to domineer.”

Quoth the Batman

“No more fear.”  

Much I marvelled this ungainly man to hear discourse so plainly,

Though its answer little meaning, little relevancy here

For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being

Ever yet could fight the power of my toxin, they adhere

Bird or beast upon this hallowed earth, cannot help but adhere

Yet for Batman, “No more fear.”

“Batman!” said I “thing of evil! Undecided man or devil!

By that city all around us, by that city filled with peers

Tell me that you really think this, that it is not just your wish this,

That I never will wreak havoc, or my horrors volunteer –

That those fools will not be ravished by the horrors, volunteer.”

Quoth the Batman, “No more fear.”

“Be that phrase our sign of parting, man or fiend!” I shrieked, upstarting

“Get thee back into the skyline of that city of austere!

Leave no Batarangs as token of that lie that you have spoken!

Leave me here, no vial unbroken! Leave me never to reappear!

Take your boot from out my face, and then please never reappear!”

Quoth the Batman, “No more fear.”

And the Batman, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting

Perched and crouching, waiting there upon my broken chandelier

And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming

And the lamp-light o’er him streaming, makes his presence oh so clear

And the truth of my sweet toxin and my failed plans, oh so clear

It is written – no more fear.

(divider by @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more)

#this is such a silly thing but i got excited and wanted to post it just now!! <3 #finnie writes #jonathan crane #the scarecrow

[ultfreakme]

WOW... You can't imegine how excited I am now that I know you also ship AkaFuri from KnB. When I entered the fandom, most people ship akashi with kuroko or akashi with his white haired senpai (sorry forget the name). And then Zuko/ Sokka, at that time (years ago), most will ship zuko/katara or katara/aang, and I was made fun of because of my ship... Thanks for sharing your fav ships @ultfreakme ....

I found your blog cause your post about parallel between ItaJun with SatoSugu (you are the first person who I found to see the similarities between ItaJun with SatoSugu)....

Can I ask why do Gojo in s1 left bad impression on you? I love your HC about him, so true, I can't imagine Gojo without his power or wealth but I can imagine Geto from rags to riches.....

YES ANOTHER AKAFURI SHIPPER MWAHAHAHA!!! And a Zukka as well I see I see you have wonderful taste hehehe. I fully understand why people shipped Akashi with Kuroko and white-hair senior(Mayuzumi hhhhh me & my friend love this character a lot, we mostly enjoy the secondary and tertiary character like Nijimura- who was the Generation of Miracles former captain). But like, AkaFuri just have so much fun potential~~

And oh my god I fully escaped the Zuko/Katara shipping content and discussions because I wasn't in fandoms as a kid, it must have been a nightmare for you to have shipped Zukka back then when the Zut@r@s are....well they are not fun to talk with. Back then and often even now, people see queer ships as less valid than het ships even though both are equally unlikely. Just because a ship is het doesn't mean it's less delusional. Glad we can all enjoy the Zukka renaissance now and hopefully the vitriol from the het ship wars does not reach us anymore.

I posted the ItaJun/SatoSugu parallel thinking no one would agree and it felt a little delulul shipper brain even to myself but like, it was there, and I just wanted to talk about it and I'm so glad someone else saw it too!!! I think JJK has a lot of relationships that are just, variations of each other. Eg; Gojo-Geto, Yuuji-Junpei, Yuuji-Megumi are all sort of divergences of each other. There's an idea of 'being saved' that runs through all 3 of them. Geto doesn't want to be saved, Junpei wants to be but he doesn't manage to say it out loud, Megumi explicitly asks to be saved. I think they each give insight into the effects of loneliness and power, sort of like Junpei, Geto and Megumi are all a 'what if?' of each other and I think this exists outside of shipping with multiple characters [Maki and Toji, Jogo-Hanami-Dagon and the jujutsu high kids (wild comparison ik but I;'m thinking of it in like, the aspect of wanting to protect one another and be there for each other while being unable to in the face of an enemy that is much stronger than their desire and power to keep each other safe)].

Ah, and Gojo's first impression. I don't usually trust characters with immense power. On first watch I was empathizing with Yuuji the most since he's the MC, and this suspicious, extremely powerful man is playing nice with Yuuji, who he wanted dead at the start. I saw him making Yuuji grow stronger and eating Sukuna's finger as something he did to serve his own unspoken(probably evil) goals in the future. Like the way he acted kept making me think he had an ulterior motive. As the series went on a the exchange event came around, my suspicions went away but I still didn't enjoy his personality type- arrogant, childish, never takes anything seriously, high off his own power and unable to empathize with normal people.

But season 2 made me enjoy his silliness from s1 because it re-contextualized his attitude. He's not annoying and childish to people only to be an asshole, he genuinely likes these people and wants to have fun with them. He doesn't take anything seriously on the surface but deep down he's calculating everything so the kids around him don't need to worry. He's high off his power but why wouldn't he be? He wasn't exaggerating in the slightest when he said he was the strongest, that was objective fact. It's not that he doesn't want to understand the people around him, he just fundamentally CAN'T but despite that he really, really tries in the few ways that he can.

I'm used to characters like Gojo- those that are low on empathy and way too strong for their own good- Saiki from Saiki K, Saitama from One Punch Man. Those characters despite their strength, have this human struggle and relatable element to them which I found missing in S1. But S2 showed his weaknesses and suddenly everything about him made a lot of sense and he shot up from being a character I didn't give a crap about to one of my top faves. Gojo Satoru wasn't a god.

He would rig thing so his students can play baseball instead of shed more blood and build animosity through fighting. He'd bargain for the life of a child because he's a child and children deserve to be happy. He was a child once.

It's so funny and frankly amazing how I, the reader who has insights the characters will never have, still fell into the trap of thinking of Gojo as separate and unattached to regular humanity that most characters in-universe did. Having that subverted was such a fun experience.

Thanks for the ask anon! Have a nice day~~

#riki asks

[nellie-elizabeth]

His Dark Materials: The Intention Craft (3x03)

Oh boy, I can't wait for episode four, I have a feeling it's going to make me a little weepy. But let's talk about this one first!

Cons:

The effect on the Gallivespians is... weird. They've got the scaling situation going, but it doesn't ever really feel like they're in the same place? Like when Lady Salmakia is talking to Lyra and Will, it doesn't feel like they're actually physically near each other. And the scene where she attacks them, angry about the knife being broken, it really did feel like the kids were flinching away on cues from someone off-camera, not to an actual living person existing in their environment.

Mary Malone... it's strange that we're not making progress quicker with her. She's on her journey, and I know where it's going, but there are five episodes left the show, and we're just now getting to the point that I think of as the beginning of her story? So I don't know, that's a little odd, pacing-wise.

Also odd for pacing was to have Balthamos come back for like two seconds just to say "oh, you're going to the land of the dead. Okay, bye, then." I guess I'm glad to see him, but not really sure what the point was there.

Pros:

GOD, everything with Asriel and Marisa is so juicy and interesting. They really did steal the show for me this week. Asriel has control over Marisa, has her at his mercy, and yet Marisa cannot fully be controlled. The moment when he laments, why can't you be what I want you to be, was honestly so powerful and I think encapsulates so much of what this relationship is. There's a deep passion and intensity of feeling between them, but ultimately he cannot fully respect her, and she cannot consent to be subjugated. I love that Lyra's parents have what at first glance seems to be very gendered conceptions of parenthood: Marisa is the one frantic for their daughter's safety, while Asriel is impatient about the whole mess. But then you think back to their history with her: neither is a nurturing, supportive parent, but Asriel was at least willing to see her and admit to the family connection, while Marisa hid in shame, only entering Lyra's life when she feared that her own research would lead to her daughter's harm.

Asriel is so intense: his motives are, I think one could argue, good, in the sense that the Magisterium is evil and what they claim to worship is no good either. And yet we watch him torture an angel to get a message to Metatron. We see what a controlling, dismissive, inconsiderate person he is at his very core. His passion, however, makes him so interesting to watch. He's not some sort of pedestrian evil man grabbing for power wherever he can get it. And Marisa certainly isn't just her ambition, either. The look they share, as Marisa escapes on the Intention Craft, is one of mutual understanding; a strange, angry respect. I can't wait to see the end of the story play out between them. It's bound to be such an intense moment.

Will and Lyra are similarly moving to watch, albeit in a very different way than Coulter and Asriel. The warmth of their friendship is so obvious, and then when there's conflict between them, you get the sense that it hurts precisely because of how much they care for and trust one another. Will doesn't fully understand Lyra's plan to go to the land of the dead, but ultimately he's going to back her play. Yes, his father told him to bring the knife to Asriel, but his mother always told him to help a friend in need. Their hug was beautiful, and I'm already getting weepy about what's going to happen at the end of this show. It's gonna screw me up big time.

It was cool to see Iorek helping Will to reforge the knife, although I think they're cowards to not show Iorek's big huge meaty bear paws holding forging tools. That's kind of all I have to say about that. It's sweet seeing Iorek and Lyra together, and Lyra using the alethiometer again after so long was a treat as well!

I'll stop there. After I watch episode four, we'll already be halfway through the season. Say it ain't so!

8/10

#review #his dark materials #his dark materials review

[shadowsight]

alright your duplex au just tapes up my broken heart like? snowtuft's random second death after the erins led us on destroyed me. i crave the closure and this gives me the closure. SO uh i had an idea, ddd!tadpole? i want hawkfrost to meet his not-quite-older-anymore brother and just. you know. break down sobbing

this was so nice to see out of the blue, thank you!!! 💛 it really warms my heart to hear that you’re feeling closure from this au. ddd!snowtuft in particular has grown to mean a lot to me. it’s encouraging to hear that this little cat au is doing something good for people reading it because it sure is doing me a lot of good to write it.

and now for your proposed ddd!tadpole! this is a really, really good idea. tadpole (like hopekit and wishkit) has room to kind of be whoever. I also want to put ddd!hawkfrost through the wringer emotionally and this is just *chef’s kiss*

confession: I don’t think I read sasha’s graphic novel, and if I did it was back in elementary school. but I did watch a lil recap on tadpole and there was something that I think is really fun for the au:

tadpole was never told who his father was, while hawkfrost wound up being molded into tiger star’s right hand man (cat?) and defined by his loyalty to their father.

(more on ddd!tadpole below the cut!)

once sasha isn’t around anymore, I imagine the only one keeping tadpole’s memory alive is mothwing. so eventually, mothwing dies and joins starclan (or doesn’t, not as punishment for not believing in them before but because she rightfully doesn’t trust them). that means that mothwing enters the afterlife and tadpole enters the after-afterlife at the same time. (big day for hawkfrost! also I love how mothwing who spends a lot of her life not believing in ghosts has two ghost/spirit brothers. I like reading her as not believing in ghosts because believing that one of her brothers is essentially undead and evil is emotionally harder than believing that her brothers are just gone.) I think I’m going to go with the idea that living cats remembering you keeps your spirit from beginning to fade, I know the books are inconsistent about it though.

~

so tadpole arrives in the duplex and he doesn’t know why. even though he’s been around for a long time, he’s a forever kitten. he’s lost, scared, and alone.

hawkfrost does rounds around the duplex, recruiting new arrivals for tigerstar. he pulls up ready to intimidate and possibly recruit the newcomer, but when he sees that it’s tadpole he stops in his tracks.

he feels an uneasy tightness in his chest. he hears himself call out to his brother, hears a name that hasn’t left his lips in seasons and seasons.

“Tadpole? Is that really you?”

“Yup, I’m Tadpole, nice to meet you! What’s your name?”

and for the first time in his (after)life, hawkfrost doesn’t know what to say.

he finds tadpole on a solo patrol around the duplex without tigerstar, and he’s relieved. his brother doesn’t recognize him and he’s relieved?

he’s confused. shouldn’t he want tadpole to finally know about their father? tigerstar is always the answer after all; following him is just what hawkfrost does. that’s how he knows how to be, and anything else isn’t imaginable to him. he’s never been led astray by tigerstar, except for... all the times he has been.

(have you ever known something before you even acknowledge to yourself that you know it? that’s what hawkfrost does. he knows deep down why he isn’t giving this kit over to tigerstar, but he won’t admit it even to himself.)

~

hawkfrost hides tadpole away for as long as he can. he wants to give him the kithood he deserves. he feels guilty for getting out of the flooding house before him — wait, is that guilt? hawkfrost hasn’t felt guilt since he was a young, living cat in the old forest.

when hawkfrost and tadpole talk, it’s weird like you said since now they’re both simultaneously the big brother. hawkfrost looks after him, but he’ll always be tadpole’s little brother at the same time.

he’s taking care of this little kit, but he’s also still playing sidekick to him. going along when he wants to play pretend, yes-and-ing his goofy ideas. he owes it to him.

~

it’s when tadpole is at his happiest and boldest that hawkfrost feels the sharpest stabs of guilt in his heart. he’s just a kit. tadpole was only just a kit like he is now, and he died because of him.

tadpole was only a kit when he drowned, and for that hawkfrost feels a scorching regret that he hasn’t felt about anything else since then. he thought he’d buried it, buried the way they never got the chance to bury his brother.

but then again, he was also only a kit back then. he wouldn’t blame tadpole if it’d been the other way around, would he?

hawkfrost asks tadpole that one day. he knows he’s asking too much of this kit, his big-little brother. but he needs to know.

tadpole is taken aback, his eyes wide. hawkfrost braces himself for his anger, but tadpole just buries his face in his brother’s fur as he gives him the biggest hug a little kit like him can give. he doesn’t say anything.

that’s all he needed to say.

~

this all happens just before hawkfrost starts helping bristlefrost and her friends without admitting it. tadpole’s arrival in the duplex changes him. here’s the big brother who’s missed out on the whole rest of hawkfrost’s life, and what does he have to show for it? what is he supposed to tell tadpole about how he lived his life? I think that’s the push that gets hawkfrost to introspect.

hawkfrost also gives them the upper hand when tigerstar ultimately comes to try to take bristlefrost’s radio — he betrays the og traitor. and tadpole helps!

~

this is disorganized bc I keep adding stuff and going down rabbit holes but this was really fun! tadpole has a place in the au - a really important place actually! he actually gives hawkfrost a good push for the change of allegiances that I’ve teased at for him. thank you so much for the ask!

#ddd!au #tadpole warrior cats #hawkfrost #mothwing #ddd!tadpole #ddd!hawkfrost #ddd!mothwing #ddd!tigerclawstar #warrior cats #warriors au #ddd!au asks

[cactus-green-clay]

I posted 341 times in 2022

That's 341 more posts than 2021!

65 posts created (19%)

276 posts reblogged (81%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@theminecraftbee

@lunaticalis

@cactus-green-clay

@sarioh

@cocoabats

I tagged 337 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#reblog - 266 posts

#hermitcraft - 55 posts

#clay’s headcanons - 26 posts

#hermitcraft headcanons - 18 posts

#clay talks - 15 posts

#clay’s works - 14 posts

#not hc - 13 posts

#ethoslab - 11 posts

#rendog - 10 posts

#grian - 9 posts

Longest Tag: 134 characters

#the “vibes” in question are “i think it’d be funny if i lit the pan on fire” and “what do you mean we can’t have medium rare chicken?”

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Tango’s short, he‘s only 5’2 after all and yet nobody bothers him about it, at least not in the way they tease Bdubs. They do occasionally, of course, Etho can’t help but “lovingly” annoy the people around him. But Tango knows how to easily shut them up, all he has to do is say a sarcastic “uh-huh” and flash them a sharp toothed grin. A soft threat that warns that he can and will bite somebody.

Tango probably wouldn’t bite them though, he’d only ever bitten one person and that was Doc, who definitely deserved it. He’d been teasing Tango about his height all day and eventually held a piece of steak over Tango’s head. And Tango, being hungry and very done with the creeper man’s nonsense, bit him on the arm.

Doc still complain’s that if he wasn’t fury everyone could see the scar that Tango left. To which Grian and/or Tango will immediately and enthusiastically said they should shave him down then.

91 notes - Posted February 17, 2022

#4

A list of Hermit that have definitely been banned from cooking and/or banned from even entering a kitchen, except it purely based on vibes and I will not explain my choices

Cub, Tango, Doc, Xisuma, Evil X, Keralis, xB, Pearl, Grian, and lastly Wels

101 notes - Posted April 13, 2022

#3

If Doc’s in the third season of third life/last life I bet he’s gonna be treated like Etho, in the way that everyone thinks he has some grand plan when in reality he’s panicking and has absolutely no idea what he’s doing or what’s going on

104 notes - Posted June 3, 2022

#2

Etho, being the box full of surprises that he is, can craft glass sculptures. When asked where or how he learned this he just shrugs and says he was bored.

Usually, rather then out right giving whoever he made the gift for he’ll hide it in their base, everybody knows the gift is from Etho but some will play along and be like “oh wow! Look at this Etho! Someone left me a little glass sculpture, wow isn’t it neat? I wonder who could have possible left this? Who ever left this sure is talented with what they do.”

He’s given many gift other the years one of the most prominent is : the first small bed that he gave Bdubs, it was one of the first things he’d made and has subsequently given others that are better quality. Bdubs however always says the first one is the best and cares it with him from season to season and world to world.

108 notes - Posted February 3, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I feel like Zed would have lab rats. Not ones that he experiments on, he has friends for that, but ones that just kinda run around. Like some are trained to bring him redstone components or something, but most are just there to be cute and occasional bite visiting Hermits.

256 notes - Posted February 16, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

[god-whispers]

sep 26

the feast continues

"and at midnight a cry was heard: ‘behold, the bridegroom is coming; go out to meet him!'" matt 25:6

this is now the second day of the feast and my rising was at 3:00 a.m. this morning.  expectancy - it is still possible for this to be the "set time."  am i disappointed i have to be here another day?  yes and no.  it is another day of anticipation and perhaps more souls will be redeemed and rescued from the horrible time to come.  yea!  there's still time.

you know, there was a moment yesterday when i really wondered.  it was raining fairly hard while the sun continued to shine brightly.  suddenly the rain stopped and i could see a gentle rustling of the wind in the treetops and i wondered - could this be it Lord?

i remember in 1995 there was a great revival in brownsville, located in the panhandle of florida.  a worship song became very anointed and it was marvelous - called "mercy seat."  for those wishing to hear the song and see the words, go to youtube at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zOmShZN9meA  it is worth watching and listening to again.

yes, come running to the mercy seat.  if believers are still here, there's still time for unbelievers to reach that mercy seat.  cry out to God and lay yourself bare before Him.  He knows it all already.  "there is no creature hidden from His sight, but all things are naked and open to the eyes of Him to whom we must give account." heb 4:13

i still can't help myself in thinking, "this year could be the year."  i'm certainly not claiming to know the day or the hour - but the season - we are certainly in it.  and we are told we should know the seasons.  there were so many who did not recognize the time of His first visitation.  we know a second coming is soon when every eye shall see Him - but how many will recognize our Lord calling for us before that?  will they just hear a sudden thunderbolt or a rustling of the wind in the trees?  there will be a secret gathering of believers.

"for as in the days before the flood, they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, until the day that Noah entered the ark, and did not know until the flood came and took them all away, so also will the coming of the Son of Man be.  then two men will be in the field: one will be taken and the other left." matt 24:38-40

these are not merely idle words spoken by our Lord.  they are a stern warning of how things will be.  there is coming a "suddenly."  i am still hopeful it will be today.  i don't know how the world will explain our disappearance but certainly the world will provide an explanation.  otherwise, there would surely be a massive opening of eyes to the reality of God - of a heaven and a hell.

i want to ask each one of you sincerely - do you know if you will be taken or left?  i had a good friend write me yesterday that she was glad to receive my email today because it meant i was still here and she had not missed it.  (just a little tidbit to everyone - i have some of these emails written ahead and set to send at a certain time ... so?)  but back to the point.  i remember when i was like that - calling around to see if others were still here.  now i am only concerned as to whether i am still here or not.  we must each be persuaded in our own hearts - that i am His and He will not leave without me.

the tribulation is unlocked the moment the rapture occurs.  look around at what is going on in the world.  it's getting darker and darker as evil has it's day.  it's not just one thing.  it's a convergence of things (a word i've been hearing a lot of lately).  the word says that unless those days were shortened, no flesh would be saved.  that's how bad it's going to get.  just how bad it will get before our Lord retrieves us?  i don't know.  many have already suffered much for His name.  some are suffering worse than others.  just because some may be living at ease doesn't mean someone else is also.  people are saying we will soon be looking back at these times as the "good times."

this is an opportune time to reach out and help someone else.  i know we can't all physically reach into many areas, but we can pray and offer aid and support to others where and when we can.  this is a time to "lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal." matt 6:20

Lord, even as my eyes are looking up in expectation, let me not fail to see the needs of one standing close.  i want You to come so much.  i want this to be the day of your calling ... but if not.  i will never give up believing You are coming and that You're coming for me.  as i now head into my prayer time, my closing, as always, will be - come Lord Jesus come.  maranatha!  always maranatha!

[sketching-shark]

Hmmmm seems like there’s a widespread sentiment that the Lady Bone Demon disaster at the end of Monkie Kid Season 2 is largely Sun Wukong’s fault due to him having left without telling anyone where he was going & then I thought “oh man he probably thinks the same.” And thus I was inspired for my first fanfic evar, made to carry that line of thought to its logical extreme. TW for violence, body horror, and a downer ending. 

Blood From a Stone

He had said it was a journey to the west, but it was clear soon after that this would be a “journey of everyone glaring at Sun Wukong and constantly reminding him how they were only in this position due to his failure.” He guessed he deserved it to some extent, what with the whole leaving on “vacation” thing, but, well, it would be nice if they remembered he wasn’t the Lady Bone Demon herself. 

It was obvious a week after the fruition of her plans that that wasn’t happening any time soon. 

For the most part, as they were flying off on a quest for the first piece of the flame of Samadhi (”it was the only thing that was able to almost kill me. I’m positive it will be able to take her down”), all the others kept themselves at a distance. Which did make some sense. Even to his successor he was largely an unknown, and he had overheard Qi Xiaotian finally tell the rest (kid keeps too much to himself oh I wonder where he got that from) about all the horrible, horrible things that had happened in Sun Wukong’s absence and that the kid thought he had to deal with alone. About the spider clan, about the possessed little girl and the powerful, malicious spirit behind it all, about Macaque and his enslavement lantern and his story of the evil “hero” and the abandoned warrior. And most damningly for himself, how every time Qi Xiaotian tried to talk to him and tell him of his fears and concerns, Sun Wukong had brushed him off, too wrapped up in his own actions to think the kid needed assurance or guidance or just someone to listen. So now they all didn’t just hold him at a distance, but now only talked to him with chilly politeness at best and a cold hostility at worst. The once excitable scholar Tang now only approached him when necessary, the blue giant Sandy watched him carefully but didn’t say anything (it was like being stonewalled by Sha Wujing all over again), both Bai Longma’s  descendant Xiaojiao and the pig yaoguai Pigsy had yelled at him more than twice now (okay, fine, he was a selfish unthinking jerk. He knew. He knew, all right?). With all the yelling, it did feel in some small way like he was back with his long-dead pilgrim group. But now there were no signs he would ever be forgiven or welcomed into the social circle, even as the guy who just hung in the back. Even Xiaotian was getting more and more angry in their daily sparring sessions (”will you deign to train me now, your majesty?”), and more than once the weakened monkey king had gotten bruises and lumps from his student’s wrathful strikes. Sun Wukong told himself it made sense, of course it made sense. This was...this was his fault, and they probably figured that he would run off and abandon them the second he saw something shiny. He understood. But he was a social creature despite his self-imposed exile, and it still hurt. 

Sun Wukong was mulling this over the second week into their journey when he realized that he hadn’t been called down to the communal dinner Pigsy always insisted they have. He had been feeling increasingly uncomfortable at these times, and could tell there was camaraderie and laughter that Xiaotian’s group found among each other that left the room as soon as he entered. After that it was just an uncomfortable silence, or for the laughter and conversation to resume while everyone pretended he wasn’t there. But still, he was feeling hungry, and so leapt down from the beam he had designated as “his” spot before padding over to the kitchen. He found it dark and empty, with all pots and bowls and cutlery washed clean and put away.

“There’s no more left.” The pig yaoguai emerged from the storeroom in the back, wiping his hands on his apron and shooting Sun Wukong a glare that was clearly meant as a challenge. “If you wanted food, you should have come when called.” Sun Wukong stared back, and knew that he could he thoughtless, but he wasn’t deaf. 

Okay. He had played this “game” before with Zhu Bajie on many occasions. So Sun Wukong knew the situation was this: there had been food and there had been a meal, but because they were mad at him they either didn’t make enough for him, or ate what would have been his share. And he could respond with accusations which would of course escalate (the pig was clearly looking for a fight) or...

or...

“All right. Are there any ingredients left?”

The pig yaoguai regarded him suspiciously. “You can cook?”

“When needed.”

A snort of contempt. “Sure. Seems you’re a whole fountain of skills, but only ‘when needed,’ huh?”

Sun Wukong didn’t raise to the bait.

Pigsy snorted again. “Yeah, there’s stuff in the back. Don’t burn down my kitchen.” With that his fellow yaoguai shoved his way past Sun Wukong, slamming the door behind him and leaving the monkey king all alone. 

Sun Wukong felt himself trembling. When he had decided to take on Qi Xiaotian as a successor, he had been feeling hope for the future for the first time in centuries. He thought he had finally found someone who was actually worthy of possessing the strength and power that Sun Wukong had cultivated, someone who would do real good in the world, unburdened by the monkey king’s sordid past. He had been thoughtless. Of course all of his past mistakes and unfinished business would immediately come roaring back the second he showed his face, of course every damned yaoguai out there would go after Xiaotian immediately as the easier target. And his response? Always some version of “you’ll be fine” or “just believe in yourself” before he left, left and abandoned his own student to all sorts of harm. And just look where they were now. Even if (no, when, it had to be a “when”) they defeated the Lady Bone Demon, this was how it was going to be from here on out. And he had no one to blame but himself. 

 Sun Wukong furiously scrubbed at his suddenly stinging eyes, and jerked a knife from a nearby block before stomping into the storeroom to see what he could eat. He grabbed a mango from a shelf before starting the peeling process. As he worked the knife against the tough skin, his mind circled back and forth over all the failures that marked his life; the burning of Flower-Fruit Mountain and the agonizing deaths of thousands of his beloved monkeys, the deaths of his master and fellow pilgrims, his inability to calm the Demon Bull King, and now this most recent disaster with the Lady Bone Demon not only being freed but getting everything she wanted. He had failed and failed again as a king, a monk, and a mentor, and everyone had to suffer from his mistakes while he was nothing but useless, useless, useless--!

Sun Wukong let out a monkey’s shriek of pain as the knife suddenly slipped and gouged a deep cut across his palm. Hissing in pain, he dropped the half-peeled mango, whipping his head around in a frantic search for something to staunch the blood. He knew he was in for another yelling session if he got the storeroom dirty, and he was trying to stay out of the way and be helpful and not make a mess, but he always failed, and he just wanted it to stop hurting...

A faint curl of smoke suddenly rose out of his palm’s deep gash. Sun Wukong gasped and looked down, and then couldn’t look away. The wound itself seemed to pulse for a few of his heartbeats before it became warm, and then painfully hott6bt. And then, to the monkey king’s astonishment, the exposed blood and muscle turned the golden red of lava and slowly, oh so slowly, started fusing the two sides of the cut back together. The process took over an hour, and that entire time he watched in fascination as his flesh melded back together. When the cut was done mending, there wasn’t even a hint of a scar left. It’s like the wound had never happened at all.

He had lost almost all of his powers to the Lady Bone Demon. But this, the monkey king realized, was something inherent to his nature as an animate stone primate. This was something he could cultivate into true strength.

Sun Wukong smiled, and clutched the kitchen knife. Maybe he didn’t have to be so useless after all. 

...

“Monkey.” 

Sun Wukong raised his head and was greeted with the hate-filled glare of Qi Xiaotian. 

“It’s time to continue training.”

Sun Wukong didn’t like the look in the kid’s eyes, never mind that this was the most he had said to him for two days. It was their fifth week into the journey, first piece of the flame of Samadhi secured, but only after a lot of danger from the Lady Bone Demon’s new minions. They had to assume she knew what they were going after, and while she didn’t have a map of the other two locations it was still a race against the clock as to who would get the other two pieces next. They were all worried and stressed. And the kid’s blows in training had continued to get even more furious, the wounds Sun Wukong sustained more serious (all good practice for cultivating his new power), but it was making him more and more hesitant to spar against Xiaotian. Still, it was true that in their weakened states they needed to figure out ways of fighting that accounted for the loss of strength. The more training the better, even if he usually came out of it sporting a black eye.

“All right, bud.”

“Don’t call me bud” Qi Xiaotian snapped, and spun on his heels to stalk away. Sun Wukong trailed after him into the makeshift sparring the monkie crew had made by shifting boxes around and stacking a number of wooden staffs against the wall. Qi Xiaotian grabbed a staff for himself before all but hurling one at Sun Wukong, and then took his stance. The monkey king felt his fur go erect from the hostility crackling through the air. But if the kid wanted to spar, then they would spar. He owed him that much, at least. 

Xiaotian came at him fast, but his anger was making his technique sloppy. Sun Wukong tried to play the good mentor and told him as much while blocking his student’s strikes. Xiaotian snarled and tried again, but did make sure his form tightened into something more vicious, controlled, and unpredictable.They continued for awhile, Sun Wukong giving advice as needed, Xioatian growling in response, before a blow suddenly struck Sun Wukong in the stomach and bent him double.

“Gah! Ouch...okay kid, that was a good blow. Let’s start over and take it from th-”

A sudden crack to the side of his head forced a shriek of surprise and pain, and sent the monkey king tumbling to the ground. 

  “What are you-!!”

Another strike on his ribs. 

“Augh! Sto-!!”

A crack to his jaw. 

Sun Wukong, once the great sage equal to heaven, whimpered in fear and pain and scurried as quickly as he could away from his student, who was stomping towards him, murder in his eyes. For a few seconds, Sun Wukong thought frantically through the events of the past few days, wondering what he had done or said to make Xiaotian hate him this much. And then it hit him, all far too late, stupid monkey that he was.

It was everything. It was their whole relationship. It was putting this human in so much danger with so little help from the word go, all that time of being handed a role far too big to fill, and not given even half the preparation or support he should have received. It was the whole mess, and Sun Wukong was, as always, the idiot monkey behind it all.

When all was said and done, Xiaotian’s hatred and violence was completely justified, and Sun Wukong deserved all the pain he might dole out. 

Xioatian loomed over him, an expression of wild rage twisting his formerly cheerful features into a frightening mask. He brought the staff up.

And Sun Wukong closed his eyes, and let the punishment commence.

...

 He opened his eyes. Both were too fractured to do anything more than squint. Xioatian was still standing over him, suddenly not moving, but Sun Wukong couldn’t make out anything more than a fuzzy shape. He turned his head to the side, and felt the pieces of his broken jaw shift as he coughed up a thick puddle of dark blood. Neither of them said anything (not like he could with his shattered face, deserve it though he did). The only sound in the makeshift training room was the monkey king’s ragged breaths, and Xiaotian’s increasingly erratic ones. Poor kid sounded like he was close to hyperventilating, and Sun Wukong winced in sympathy, remembering the terrible swirl of conflicting emotions he himself had experienced the first time he had beaten a hated enemy to death. The blinding wrath, and then the fear and guilt of one’s own actions warring with a sense of righteousness.

He was hurt, and badly so. But it was only what was owed. The infliction of punishment and pain was Xiotian’s right, just like it had been Tang Sanzang’s before him, and the Buddha himself before that. Sun Wukong now knew that that this was what had to happen: the bad monkey does bad things, and then he suffers a punishment fitting the crime. He understood just how necessary this was, he should be used to it by now, and yet...he would be sobbing his eyes out if he could (his heart had been shattered and ground to fine dust and he could blame no one but himself his fault his fault it was always his fault). But something was different this time. The punishments had always hurt, had hurt this time too. But now, he suddenly realized with a shaky, full-body jolt, that physically, he no longer felt a thing. Not the horror show that was currently his face, not his broken ribs, not his bloodied torso. He was aware of the damage, and yet the pain that should accompany it had at some point through the beating simply stopped registering outside of a dim awareness, like one is aware that the stars exist: there, but not really important for your own life’s events.

 It was...a relief. Refreshing, even. Sun Wukong shifted his broken body around a little more, clinically assessing what needed to be fixed. He decided to start with the spine.

Though he now could feel nothing, those weeks cultivating his new talent for self repair meant he could still focus his energy and compel his stone form to go slightly molten. His early training in medicine helped here with deciding how his flesh and nerves and bone should be fixed. In the span of around ten minutes, he was able to sit up and breathe normally and move his arms. He used the restored maneuverability to snap his nose into the correct spot and hold his jaw in the proper place as its pieces fused back together. Soon enough, just like with the first accidental cut and all the intentional ones that had followed, it was like the punishment had never happened. Eyesight restored, he looked up at Xiaotian. His already ashen heart sank a little lower at the sight. The kid was splattered with his blood, his former fury gone. He looked so lost and so, so scared. In a rush, Sun Wukong remembered the horror on Tang Sanzang face when the monk first realized his ability to inflict blinding pain on the monkey king with the golden fillet (that look didn’t last; it had been justified anger and justified contempt afterwards), and then again even further back then that the feeling of taking his first life, a demon who in retrospect was the embodiment of his first real failure. This mountain lord of chaos had, after all, killed monkey after monkey in Sun Wukong’s absence, had done these things while the monkey king was having a grand time learning the secrets of immortality. He had let his fear of death drive him away from his subjects, instead of staying with them and protecting them like a king should.

He really had been a selfish and rotten cretin his entire life, hadn’t he?

Sun Wukong had known this for centuries, but it was now clearer than clear he could never pretend otherwise again. 

Sun Wukong stood up, and Qi Xiaotian stumbled backwards with a fearful gasp, hiding behind the blood-soaked wooden staff as much as he could. This new terror all because of him hurt, but it was all too understandable; the kid had once obsessed over the monkey king’s past. He knew how vengeful he once was, how destructive he could be.

“I’m not going to attack you.”

A staring silence.

“Really, it’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

More silence. Sun Wukong sighed. So this was how his half-baked attempt to train a successor would end. There was nothing he could do or say to make this better. 

He should never have tried to take on a student. Just like everything else he did, it was doomed to end in failure and pain.  

“You go wash up. I’ll clean everything here. It will be like it never happened.”

Xiaotian dropped the staff, his eyes welling with tears. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, as if trying to find something to say, before letting out a guttural sob and bolting from the room.

That would be the last time they would speak for weeks. 

... 

Their looks of suspicion were now mixed with something approaching actual concern. Sun Wukong didn’t understand why. It’s not like he felt anything any more, and his self-repair had now reached a point where he could be very useful to the rest of the group. Just the other day, in fact, he had taken a gutful of spears that had been aimed at Tang, and wasn’t it wonderful how he had been able to beat back their attackers and completely heal those wounds in but a half hour! He just wished that the others could see that. After they had secured the second piece of the Flame of Samadhi and ran back safely to the airship (and he was sorry that Sandy had to expend all that extra effort carrying him on board), they had run around him and stirred up no small amount of commotion (except for Xiaotian, who now always hung back, watching him with haunted eyes that he knew he would make worse if he tried to fix). But beyond the initial surprise, their responses weren’t something Sun Wukong could understand at all, especially since the time between being wounded and his body finishing the repairs was shortening every day. This was all to the good. But still...the two other yaoguai and one middle-aged human kept taking him aside and asking him in varying ways what the hell was wrong with him and why he kept scaring everyone like that. It didn’t seem to matter how often he pointed out that it was because of this wonderful ability that no one else had gotten seriously hurt, or how often explained that he would heal, or that it didn’t even hurt. They just looked more frustrated than ever. When Pigsy inadvertently stumbled across Sun Wukong in the midst of one of his private feeding sessions--the monkey king had stopped going where he obviously wasn’t wanted, and had decided he would no longer eat their food, exchanging it for a diet of stone and ore (he understood now why he had been given nothing but metal pellets to eat and molten copper to drink in his centuries under the mountain; it toughened up his body wonderfully)--the pig man had started with his usual yelling, but had then slapped the chewed-up chunk of metal scrap out of Sun Wukong’s hand, forcibly dragged him into the kitchen, and made him a bowl of noodles right there. He even refused to let Sun Wukong leave until he had consumed every strand, and then forced him to promise that from then on he would be there for the usual evening dinners, and that he would eat what he was given. 

Sun Wukong was grateful to leave that scene, and especially grateful that the pig man didn’t seem to know that yaoguai rhesus macaques possessed a throat pouch in which they could store whatever food they might want for later or, in his case, didn’t want at all. The monkey king took extra care to make sure that no one was following him up to the airship’s balcony, that he was completely alone, and then emptied the noodles overboard in one heave. He had some fun watching passing birds start dive-bombing this sudden bounty (covered in monkey saliva though it was), and then pulled out a few bullets he had picked up on their last stop, popping them into his mouth one by one as if they were his favored peach chips. 

Even with the promises he now must keep, he could make this work. He could keep getting stronger. 

 And that had worked for awhile, at least until Macaque made his move.

...

The last time Sun Wukong had seen Macaque, his double had been wreathed in a giant made of shadow and trying to kill both him and Xiaotian. Very little had changed from then, although now the giant before them, having arrived in a burst of blue mist and pinned them down with tendrils of living shadow as they attempted to navigate a narrow ravine, was clearly much more powerful than before, his features now defined not by a purple glow, but by a sickly, blue-white light. 

He knew his brother hated him (and for good reason, just like everyone else), but he had at least assumed his love of freedom would keep him from joining forces with a demon known for her desire and ability to possess even her “allies” in every single way.

“HEL. OH. SUN. WU. KONG.” 

The voice alone caused the entire crew to wince in pain, even though the malice was directed solely at the monkey king. 

“YOR. NO. KING. IM. KING.” The giant crawled closer, that sickly light bathing them all in its terrible glow.

“KILL. KING. THEN. KING. ANLY. WUN. KING.”

Sun Wukong had a sudden creeping suspicion that his brother’s current state might not be as consensual as he had first assumed. The shadow monkey had always prided himself on his intelligence, and whatever was happening with him now seemed to be suppressing everything--even language--not related to destroying Sun Wukong. Well, he had been expecting something like this since he had first overheard Xiaotian’s story of Macaque’s attempt to attack and manipulate him once again, and so had been preparing himself. Thanks to his new wonderful ability to not feel anything Sun Wukong was able to easily ignore how his ribs creaked under the weight of his brother’s tendril of shadow, and by an extreme act of thrashing managed to free both himself and one of the magically enhanced incendiary grenades he now carried at all times. He felt nothing as he threw it into Macaque’s face, nothing but satisfaction at a job well done as the giant monkey reared back, shrieking in pain and dropping the rest of the crew as the tendrils lashed about furiously and uncontrolled. Sun Wukong turned but briefly to Sandy, giving himself only time to say “Get the others to safety. I’ll draw him off your tail” before he flung across the cliff side, his steel-strong fingers and toes easily carving foot and handholds. He had gambled that in this degraded state and with a new pain and further grudge to bear, Macaque wouldn’t even think about taking hostages and just chase after him. He glanced back to confirm his suspicions, and the sight of his brother’s snarling and melting but quickly reforming shadow face coming closer and closer proved him correct. Having reached a stony path within the cliff, he ran, dropping to all fours to quicken the pace, using every trick he could to escape the grasping claws and whipping tendrils of the thing of dumb rage his brother had become. And all the time he could feel Macaque gaining on him, his booming squeals of delight in a chase he was sure to win forcing Sun Wukong to faster and faster speeds. He HAD to get Macaque as far away from the others before he was caught and killed. 

He was finally put to ground when Macaque’s gigantic hand swept through the air at a furious pace, but clipping Sun Wukong. It was enough to send the monkey king flying through the air, a huge gouge in his side, and then that same hand slammed into him so hard he it felt like every rib was snapped at once. He was pinned to an unyielding cliffside face before the colossal hand curled into a fist, and he was brought face to face with Macaque, who’s own features twisted into a frightening mix of malevolence and delight. 

“CAHT. YU. KILL. YU. THEN. IM. KING.”

By the fruit and flowers of his first home, his brother had been left with a one-track mind. But that had been the case for centuries, wasn’t it? They had been twins, born from the same heaven and earth nourished stone. Macaque had started out as the stronger, more confident one of the pair, soon becoming the unofficial leader of their first monkey troop and long being the unofficial protector and only friend of his timid brother. But how quickly things could change. From but one act of dumb bravery, Sun Wukong became not just the leader but the very king after he alone had dared to jump through that waterfall, discovering in the process a cave in which all the monkeys could be more safe than they had ever been before. And then in the centuries that followed, he had pushed himself to greater and greater acts, gathering knowledge, power, family, friends, hells, an entire mountain rage full of yaoguai that hailed him as a great king. And for a long while Macaque had seemed proud of his brother and happy with this arrangement, but maybe, Sun Wukong thought bitterly, only because he was still the top priority in the monkey king’s life, the one person that Sun Wukong would drop everything to scamper after if Macaque so much as hinted that he should do so, just like when they had been children. Sun Wukong had shared everything he had learned and owned with his twin, and together they had toured the skies and the seas, doing whatever they pleased and going wherever they wanted. And it had seemed good, for awhile. The problems, and his failures, had really started when Sun Wukong had started to make other close friends, while Macaque seemed to want no one really important in his life but his twin. Sun Wukong still remembered their first fight about this, which had started with a snide remark about how Sun Wukong was apparently mooooning after the Demon Bull King, and soon exploded into a full on screaming match in which Macaque accused Sun Wukong of abandoning his own brother so that he could party with a pack of second-rate yaoguai. It had ended with Sun Wukong shame-faced and apologizing for hurting his brother, and promising to spend more time with Macaque, and he did, and the tension was finally over. But then almost the same argument happened again, and again, and again, until it seemed like the only way that Macaque would be happy was if Sun Wukong was practically glued to his side and didn’t so much as talk to any of his subjects without his brother approving. Sun Wukong loved his brother, but he felt lonely and miserable, and Macaque just couldn’t understand that he really wanted other close people in his life (“Why would you possibly want to waste your time with a bunch of other yaoguai? You have me! You’ll always have me!”). It had come to an irrevocable head when Macaque had finally left him alone for something the monkey king couldn’t even remember, and, sick of being screamed at every time he so much as talked to his close friends and sick of being called the Six-Ears’s shadow behind his back and feeling spiteful and confident in his decisions and abilities, Sun Wukong had ordered a huge banquet to be thrown for his six greatest friends--each one of them a powerful yaoguai king--and then and there proposed that they all become sworn brothers. The Peng King, Lion Ni King, Demon Bull King, Scale Flood king, Macaque Demon King, and Snub-Nosed Monkey King had greeted his proposal with cheers and swift agreements, and while they were toasting their new brotherhood, Sun Wukong had felt truly happy and fulfilled. And how sweet it had been when the Six Eared Macaque had suddenly burst in, looking windblown and disheveled and furious and so, so sad, and could do nothing without drawing the ire of six powerful yaoguai warlords as Sun Wukong offered him a generous pour of plum wine and exclaimed, his voice laden with cheerful malice, that he just knew his brother would be so happy to see their inner circle grow in such a wonderful way. And from then on, the monkey king made sure he was never alone with his twin, and spitefully relished in the fact that he had so many good friends, so many close friends, while Macaque had been left all alone, and had no one to blame for his loneliness but himself. But of course, he did, and he had blamed Sun Wukong, and never even once in the following centuries had the monkey king tried to make amends. And so the blame and hurt and endless sorrow of being abandoned by the most important person in his life had twisted an increasingly possessive love into an increasingly obsessive hate, which had grown and grown and grown without relief, and soon after he had been released from his mountain imprisonment Sun Wukong had been left speechless with horror when he had seen what his brother had become in his absence, wearing his form like a second skin and holding his monkey family’s souls captive in a sinister, flickering lantern while their enslaved shadows hung unmoving on the cave walls (”See, Sun Wukong!? I have lots of friends! I’m a much better king than you ever were! I didn’t abandon them! I’m keeping them close! I’m keeping them safe!”). And now this. He wished he had never become sworn brothers with the other yaoguai, love them though he had. If he hadn’t, then maybe they wouldn’t have died in his war against heaven. Maybe he could have helped his brother. Maybe they wouldn’t have ended up like this, with the Six Eared Macaque reduced to a giggling, dumb beast of a pawn, and himself about to die by his own brother’s claws.  

“Fine. Get it over with.”

Macaque’s mouth split into a wide grin, a viscous blue fluid leaking out between his shadowy fangs. The terrible pressure of his colossal hand started to increase. 

And then Sun Wukong was falling, and Macaque was bawling in pain, and as he hit the ground the monkey king realized someone had cut Macaque’s arm clean off. He barely had time to untangle himself from the gargantuan fingers before a monkey yaoguai, a little taller than himself, with fur the color of bright straw and wielding what was clearly an enchanted folding fan, stepped in front of him in a protective gesture before turning his way.

“Are you all right?”

Sun Wukong couldn’t believe his eyes. He hadn’t felt anything physically for weeks, but his vision went blurry with tears and then he was crying so hard he could barely breathe. But he could still see the other yaoguai’s beloved and terribly missed face suddenly go wide-eyed with surprised recognition.

“S-Sun Wukong?!”

It was one of his best and closest friends, one of his sworn brothers, the Macaque Demon King, the Fair Wind Great Sage herself. 

...

The both of them were blown suddenly backwards as the Six-Eared Macaque’s remaining fist smashed into the ground, his echoing shrieks of pain replaced with bellows of rage at the loss of his prey and perhaps, Sun Wukong thought, the appearance of one who had “stolen” his brother away all those centuries back. MDK’s face hardened, and she grabbed Sun Wukong by the back of his tattered shirt before flying them both vertically up the cliff face as swiftly as her self-given title suggested. Sun Wukong felt rattled, but was forced to come to his senses when his former friend shook him roughly and asked with a healthy sprinkle of monkey yaoguai curse words he hadn’t heard in centuries what was going on and what had happened to his brother and damned it all Sun Wukong what kind of mess had he dragged everyone into this time? Forcibly shoving his raging swirl of emotions to the side, he gave her as quick a summary as he could, pausing to drop another incendiary grenade on top of Macaque as he attempted to climb the cliff one handed. MDK listened and watched it all with hard, calculating eyes. 

“Well, we did quite a bit of damage, but it looks like your brother has been turned into a creature with a self-repair manual. We’ll need more force than what you’re capable of.” 

Sun Wukong glanced down, and saw MDK had been right. Macaque’s face and arm had already repaired themselves, and the giant shadow creature was glaring at them and climbing swiftly upwards, clear murder on his mind.

“Okay” Sun Wukong started, “I’ll go back down there and-”

“Don’t bother,” MDK interrupted. “We’ve got some incoming fire power right...about...”

A sudden bright explosion knocked Macaque right off the cliff face and flung his gargantuan body into the surrounding woods. 

“...now,” MDK finished, her voice rich in satisfaction. And then Sun Wukong got the second intensively bittersweet shock of this night as a giant golden monkey yaoguai landed next to MDK, shook herself, and started to complain on how while it was appreciated that she could test her new arm of war out, it was a real shame how the landscape was suffering. 

“...S...Snub-nosed?” Sun Wukong’s voice was barely a whisper. 

The golden monkey--and it was the Snub-nosed Monkey King--finally stopped her rant and gave him her full attention. “Sun Wukong?!” He couldn’t feel anything, but he had a sudden desperate wish that he could when he was suddenly being held in a tight embrace and spun around. “Hahahahahaaaa!! You unkillable horse-whisperer! You look terrible!!” Sun Wukong was feeling so many conflicting emotions that he couldn’t think up a witty retort if his life depended on it. Soon, all too soon, Snub-nosed set him down. 

“So! What in the hells! Here I was with MDK, both of us having a pleasant night walk, and then we hear all this screeching and moaning and come over to discover what’s dying this time, and who should it be but two smelly beasts we haven’t seen in centuries!”

Sun Wukong wished he could just sit with them and tell them all about everything that had happened and be sworn brothers again without the weight of his centuries of sin, but between his rampaging brother and his concern for Xiaotian and his crew, they needed to take care of this problem now. 

“Well, that’s obvious! Just give me a second to charge this thing up.”

Sun Wukong stared in shock. The Snub-Nosed Monkey king had always insisted on sporting a grand appearance, and he wondered how many years and how much of her personal wealth she had spent on the artistic, weaponized prosthetics that now gleamed and whirred where her right arm and left leg had once been. MDK unfurled her fan (Sun Wukong could smell the death magic pouring from it), and as a unit they leapt down. Macaque was already up and charging right for them (his own brother, an unthinking, suffering beast, taking blow after painful blow but only capable of charging forward), but Snub-Nosed was calm as she aimed the small cannon that was currently her right arm at his twin. 

“Best go for the head, I think. This oughta splatter it in one go.”

“No!”

“You got a better idea, beautiful?”

Sun Wukong was tired of hurting and tired of death, he wanted to make sure they all got out of this alive, and so...

“Snub-nosed, MDK, listen. This shadow giant isn’t his real body. It will repair no matter how many times it’s hit. I can...I can...” by an extreme effort, he forced his eyes to once again work as they had, to see the truth from lies, and there was Macaque himself in the very center of the giant, his fangs pulled into a mask of pure fury. “If you take his arms, I’ll get him for sure.” The two other yaoguai exchanged a look, but agreed. “But let’s make this quick. I won’t have him tearing up my land much longer, and you’re literally crying blood.” They moved together as a troop, Snub-nosed taking the left, MDK taking the right, and himself charging at the center, his eyes locked on those of his twin. Macaque seemed to have forgotten about the other two, his whole focus on his hated brother, and he opened his mouth wide as if to swallow Sun Wukong whole. And then there was a loud boom, the shriek of wind, and Macaque’s enormous face screwed up in confusion. He was falling, and Sun Wukong leapt up, right into the center of the giant. His eyes were still blazing as he grabbed his twin’s true form by the neck, and hurled them both out of the shadow monster as ferociously as he could. He kept Macaque under him as they hit the ground hard, and though he heard something snap, though he wasn’t sure if it was something that belonged to him or his brother. Robbed of his shadow armor, Macaque looked weak, almost emaciated. But in that moment, Sun Wukong couldn’t care. Memories of all the hurt and the pain the this monkey had caused him throughout the years, all the times he targeted his loved ones, and then he went after Xiaotian, manipulating him, hurting him, trying to kill him....the monkey king saw red, forgot all about his desire to get them all out of this alive, and brought his steel-strong nails down. 

... 

Sun Wukong stood over Macaque, who was lying broken before him, breathing weakly in a wheezy gurgle. He had ripped his brother’s chest and torso to ribbons. The raw meat of muscle and the jelly of intestine even shown through the worst of the wounds. He was covered in Macaque’s blue tainted blood, and felt so sick that he had done this to his own brother but so, so grateful no one else had been hurt...

“Good job.”

The monkey king stumbled backwards, almost falling over until he was caught and held upright by MDK. She pushed him into a standing position, and moved to circle around Macaque, her fan out and teeth bared in a grin of aggression and fear. Snub-nosed followed close behind, giving commands into a phone. “Yeah, we’ll need at least three of the better medics. And the strongest restraints we have. Wha-. For humans or yaoguai?! Of course for a yaoguai!! Friend, I love you but I literally just finished explaining that they’re for a sneaky bastard who can turn into a giant!...Okay, true, fair enough. And yeah, the humanoid cuffs should work just fine. Thanks. Get here soon.” Snub-nosed ended the call with a sigh, and joined the other monkeys. They all stared at Macaque for a few seconds, unwilling to touch him either from fear of making his gaping wounds worse, or in fear of being attacked. 

“So, Sun Wukong...WHAT IN THE SHREEE-AKKK IS HAPPENING?!?!?”  

Sun Wukong closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and told himself again he couldn’t even pretend he could still be friends with the two beloved monkeys around him. 

“Long story short? My foolishness let the Lady Bone Demon escape the prison I had put her in. And now she’s stolen my power and has been hunting me for weeks. She wants me dead and forgotten. Seems my brother was forced into a bid for that scheme. Not like their desires aren’t the same there...”

Snub-nosed interrupted him with a short squeal of anger. MDK’s eyes hardened, her face suddenly contorting into a teeth-bared expression of stress, fear, and aggression, all aimed at him. 

“So here we go again, huh? Fruit and fungi, Sun Wukong, how many times will the rest of the world have to suffer from your bad judgement?!” MDK whipped her fan open and closed, as if contemplating sending a blast of deadly wind his way. “We suffer the full force of the heaven’s fire from a war you brought to our homes, you disappear for centuries and return as the attack dog of some sniveling human monk, only to vanish again after putting our brother in the ground for half a millennia, and now this?! I’ll have to agree with Snub-nosed. SHREE-AKK!!! EEEEE-AKKK!! EEEEE-AHHH!!!” 

Sun Wukong started at the ground. It was all true, all of it, and he couldn’t even bring himself to try and defend his master. He kept his eyes down as both demon kings continued to scream at him, aware that this was as much about them venting their justified anger as it was about defending their territory. He pulled his own face into a grin of fear and submission, and, to the surprise of is former friends, crouched down to make himself seem even smaller. 

I’m not going to challenge you. I’m not going to even try to get close to you. I am weak, and you are the ones with all the power.

The demon kings seemed a little mollified, and stopped their screaming, but began an intensive grooming session to calm each other down as he continued to crouch, his eyes averted. Suddenly, MDK’s hand lowered over his head, and while Sun Wukong couldn’t feel anything he realized she had started to groom him too. Sun Wukong wanted to cry at the gesture of potential forgiveness, but forced those feelings down. Grooming was as much about making alliances as it was about giving and receiving kind touches, and knowing the Lady Bone Demon was free the yaoguai kings would likely recruit every soldier they could get to protect their homes. 

Snub-nosed piped up, still intent on grooming MDK’s neck. “One hand of my troop has collected the merry bunch you’ve been flying around with and are brining them over. Wanted me to let you know they’re all a little banged up but still functioning. Another is flying in medical help and some restraints for the shadow coward. We’ll figure out how you’ll pay me back when this is all over.”

Sun Wukong gave a barely perceptible nod. He’d sell himself into slavery if it meant Xiaotian and his loved ones would be safe. Snub-nosed sighed again, and abruptly ended the grooming session. “All right, stand up. Neither I nor MDK is going to bring your brother into our homes until we know he won’t be a threat and can’t be tracked by the skeleton shit, same goes for you and your lot. So we’ll camp here tonight, see what happens, and make plans for what to do starting tomorrow. And this is going to to be our plan, got it? Input and information are needed and appreciated, but you’re going to be in this fight as one of our soldiers, and not as a fellow king. You got it?”

Sun Wukong nodded again, and felt a sudden rush of gratitude. What had he ever been thinking, trying to come up with a way to stop the Demon Bone Lady on his own judgment?  Every single one of the plans he had ever come up with across the course of his life had always, eventually, ended in disaster and agony and death. Maybe this endeavor would actually be a success, now that someone else was in the lead. He opened his mouth to give his assent, and the other monkeys screamed and leapt back, weapons drawn.

Sun Wukong looked down, and there was Macaque, gripping his leg, his entrails dragging behind him, the eye the monkey king had blinded so long ago weeping a dark blue fluid, the working eye blazing with a horrible cerulean light.

“You-”

“You really thought this was over, didn’t you? You really thought that would stop me?! It didn’t! It will never be over!! Not until you, or I, or both are dead!! Not until you, or I, or both are dead!! Not until, not until, not until-!! And then Sun Wukong’s own brother, reduced to another monstrous, suffering consequence of Sun Wukong’s failures and in the full thrall of the spirit sickness the Lady Bone Demon had infected him with, was left scrabbling and biting at his leg and howling between founts of his own blood for death and vengeance. 

Yet another point of pain the monkey king could never make right. 

 He could, however, make it less wrong.

And thinking that, Sun Wukong had no hesitation in, after willing his powers of regeneration to their highest peak, driving his fingers into the socket of his left eye and scooping it right out of the socket. Bleeding profusely, he held his shrieking brother still and forced him to swallow the blazing ball of blood and jelly. He hugged his spirit-sickened twin close as he screamed and writhed as the rapidly dissolving eye blazed and burned the Lady Bone Demon’s poison into submission. Finally, after what seemed like hours but what was only seconds, Macaque shuddered and disgorged a horrible amount of a viscous blue liquid that seemed to glow and pulse like a heartbeat before it went dark and still. The shadow monkey slumped over, pain and exhaustion finally rendering him unconscious. Sun Wukong quickly moved to lay the other monkey down, his halved vision making it hard to tell where Macaque’s entrails were, and he needed to put those back, he had to fix this...and then there was Snub-nosed crouching next to him, carefully holding his brother’s guts in hands of both metal and flesh.

“Shit and sunsets, Sun Wukong. It’s never a dull moment with you, is it?”

...

In the end, the Snub-nosed Monkey King and Macaque Demon King had decided that all six sages of their original sworn brotherhood (they were alive? They were all alive? He was so happy he wanted to cry) should be be called into the spot they had dubbed “base camp” to decide what needed to be done. He was gratified to see the Demon Bull King and his family had somehow made their way safe and unpossessed back among the the other yaoguai, although besides his former dearest friend’s eyes widening when he heard the monkey king blame himself for the Lady Bone Demon’s freedom, he made no move to speak to him. Xi Qiaotian and his loved ones--allowed to move around the camp somewhat freely after the five other sages had circled and sniffed and grilled them before deeming them generally trustworthy (but not trustworthy enough to be party to their plans, especially the humans)--were also brought forward to give their testament before being dismissed as the six sages, their closest advisors, and their new soldier--himself--debated what to do. 

Sun Wukong listened intently, not yet attempting to give advice but taking in everything that was being said, and observing in how his former close friends had changed. They had all been warlords right along with him, and while the centuries and new responsibilities had made them less prone to violence, the promise of a big battle with potential huge rewards (”this could very well be an opportunity to win ourselves great power in the territory she’s conquered. This could be the chance we’ve all wanted to come out of hiding!”) was something they all clearly found very tempting. But they had no reason now to like or trust him, and the risks were so many and so great. The spacious tent MDK had had set up as a meeting chamber filled with snarls and monkeyish shrieks as they debated. After hours of argumentation, Snub-nose’s wife--an elegant wolf yaoguai with pitch-black fur who had taken charge of the two pieces of the flame of Samadhi (”they will not touch it and will not hear of using it, Sun Wukong. The wounds are millennia old but the fear is still very fresh”)--steered the thought process in a new direction by proposing that instead of treating the Lady Bone Demon and her minions as an army to go against with their own, the kings focus should be on routes by which they might compel or coerce her into revealing the seal that had sapped the monkey king’s power by using Qi Xiaotian as a catalyst, and see what they could do to destroy it by magic to return the stolen strength to its original owner, who while unliked was on their side. Their armies could be on stand-by as needed, but with the major source of her strength thus eliminated the yaoguai kings should be able to overwhelm and imprison her once again. The tent was quiet as they all considered the possibility. It was, if they could pull it off, most definitely the path of fewest risks. But there was so much information they would have to gather, and every day the Lady Bone Demon was conquering more landscapes, expanding her slave army, growing in strength. Either way, they would have to make a decision soon and act quickly. How to gather the knowledge they needed while keeping her minions off her back?

For the first time, the monkey king spoke up. “I think...I think I can help there.”

Six sets of eyes glittered back at his one. “And how,” the Ni Lion King asked with fangs bared, “do you plan to contribute to this scheme, oh king without an army or a weapon? Will you take your fair share of the danger, or will you once again sit back and laugh as your allies fall?”

Sun Wukong smiled grimly. He had expected the Ni Lion King would never forgive him for having treated the capture of thousands of his feline soldiers during the first bout of heaven’s assault all those centuries ago as something to celebrate, since no monkeys had been taken (but another notch in the long list of all his many failures), but he could see a similar question was on the minds of every assembled sage: the peng king, missing both of his wings and having no good anchor for the prosthetics that might serve him in place of the ones that had been burned to ash; the scale flood king, his fanged jaws leaking a steady stream of water he had never been able to quell since his dragon’s pearl had been damaged in the war with heaven; ni lion king, who’s head was covered with a mane of implanted connector cables (having apparently gotten into the wonders of technology in a big way), while his original mane and the skin on his skull--as well as a good portion of his face--had been burned into a mess of scar tissue by the heavens’ fire; the snub-nosed monkey king, who now sported a metal arm and a metal leg to replace amputated limbs that had been lost in that conflict; and perhaps worst of all the macaque demon king, who had no outer wound, but who’s life was now marred by an eternal sorrow. Her daughter, he had horrified to learn, had been one of the many victims of the heavens’ fire, and she had been forced to take her child’s head to spare her the suffering of that eternal flame. It was a list of agony all due to the monkey king’s thoughtless decisions, and Sun Wukong, if he could still feel something, was sure that his eyes would still be stinging from the sleepless night of crying he had spent after being told what had happened to each.

So yes, not a single one of them hadn’t lost something important in the war he had started. And now he had to give what he could, he had to fight harder than he ever had before to keep them from suffering again from his failures.

 In one fluid movement, Sun Wukong drew the kitchen knife he had kept close since this journey began and drove it into his chest. The assembled yaoguai leapt up with teeth bared, their initial growls and shrieks quickly turning into bellows of shock as the suddenly molten flesh around the wound seemed to eat the blade. His body done incorporating the metal, the deep cut closed seamlessly, and Sun Wukong let them all see that in spite of the blow he was intact. They all needed to see that even though he had been robbed of his initial divine-inspired power, his cultivation of inherent yaoguai strengths offered a path to being at least a significant thorn in the bone demon’s side. “It’s true I’ve lost just about everything,” he said after the noise died down, “and I’m but a cracked memory of what I once was. But the Lady Bone Demon is out there with my former power, and if she is not stopped soon she will topple you from your thrones and take you and your families as her slaves.” A sharp intake of breath all around. He knew it was a low blow, but honest for all that. He continued.  “But I know that even with such grave threats, it’s hardly enough to forge a strong alliance or a strong plan, especially when the last time you all fought with me you all lost so much. So here’s what I have to offer: my regenerating body can take any number of mutilations and come out whole. My scorching insides prevent any possession. And my physical strength is still considerable. I can take any number of beatings, lead her and her minions on any sort of chase, all while you gather what you need and make what preparations you must. And because I feel nothing, even if she were to capture me there is no torture she could inflict to make me reveal your plans. I know...I know after everything that you have all suffered from my failures, I cannot by your ally. I believe, however, that I could serve well as your distraction.”  

Sun Wukong looked around the assembled yaoguai. “But there is more I can offer. Last night I learned much of what you had lost when battling against heaven. I want to fix what I can. And so...” Sun Wukong swallowed, his mind screaming at him not to do this, but he knew what he had to give up, “...and so I want to give you all my tail.” 

For a minute the six king’s eyes went wide, but then turned contemplative and, Sun Wukong thought, a little eager.

“If I follow your line of thinking correctly...” the peng king began, the talons on his feet making light scraping sounds as they gouged into the ground, as if grasping prey, “you want to divide the true flesh of your tail among us for our benefit. The tendons can be used as glue to repair a dragon’s pearl, the fur and skin as a graft to help heal burn scars, the meat consumed to help restore lost strength, and the vertebrae...” his voice was strained with desperate hope, “the vertebrae as a anchor for prosthetic wings.”

Sun Wukong smiled, and while he was scared, it was genuine. “Got it in one, feathers.” The peng king looked surprised at the use of the old nickname, but he did offer his own small smile in return.

The scale flood king coughed up a sudden fount of water before he spoke next. 

“If the stone monkey is willing to do these things, then I will agree to this course of action. But let us hurry! The skeleton monster grows stronger with every passing second, and I want my pearl intact before we beat her down.” He seemed to be the voice of the room, and one king after another agreed to the proposed course. With every voice of assent, Sun Wukong felt his heart speed up, fearing what was to come but knowing it was needed. He focused on his breathing, drawing up the techniques of meditation he had learned so long ago. 

This is good, this is necessary, this is needed...he repeated it like a mantra, even as Snub-nosed and MDK approached him slowly, almost apologetically, followed by a group of yaoguai that they assured him were the best surgeons in their troops. 

He thanked them both, and told the assembled team that anesthesia would be unnecessary. Yet they all insisted on it, and he supposed it would be good to test out if he needed to bring a gas mask on his endeavor to play the distraction. He followed the medical team, who were now accompanied by the Lion Ni King, the Scale Flood King, and the Peng King along with all their attendants, out over into the makeshift medical tent. The collection of yaoguai passed by Qi Xiaotian and his loved ones who were all anxiously waiting outside the door and in front of a hand of implacable guards, and who immediately started a barrage of frantic questions when they saw the monkey king emerge on what was going on and where was he going and what had happened to his eye before a cluster of MDK’s attendants smoothly separated themselves from the group aimed at the medical tent and set to work assuring them that they were safe and would be safe and that all was well, but not, Sn Wukong noted, telling them what was going to happen. Sun Wukong didn’t allow himself the pause that might lead him to start second guessing himself, not even when he heard Xiaotian’s teary voice try to raise itself above the din and ask him to wait, not even when inside the medical tent he passed by a still unconscious Macaque who had been put, he had been told, into a medically induced coma, and who the monkey king would have assumed dead if not for the cluster of steadily beeping monitors that surrounded his twin. He lay down on his stomach on the bed he was ushered to, and found himself, after listening at length to the tall monkey yaoguai that Sun Wukong had been introduced to as the head surgeon and MDK’s one surviving child on how the surgery was to work even with the monkey king’s always-advancing healing, somewhat surprised that the anesthesia brought in was actually working, at least while it was continuously supplied. MDK was gently holding one of his hands, Snub-nosed the other, and he supposed it would have been comforting if he wasn’t convinced it was to make sure he didn’t try to run off. Then the head surgeon soothingly talked him into unconsciousness. 

When he awoke, the fact that he felt nothing meant he only realized his tail was gone when he was informed that the removal had been a success. He was also told that the other three kings were almost done with their own surgeries, and that the Ni Lion King had provided for his job as a distraction a highly advanced video camera that had been guised as his missing eye, if he would be willing to have it grafted into his now empty socket. Next to it on the tray the head surgeon carefully held was a small inner earpiece, and together these technologies would, the monkey king was told, allow them to monitor his progress and give advice and instruction in his upcoming encounters with the Lady Bone Demon. Sun Wukong agreed to this too, and didn’t even have to be put under again as the head surgeon carefully placed the camera eye into his empty socket and delicately grafted it firmly in place. It wasn’t long before Sun Wukong was able to stand up again. He was more than glad he had given up what he had, but still found it very disorienting, to even try walking around without the balance and sight he had possessed his entire life. But Sun Wukong had always been a quick study, and after critically watching him first walk and then run, the head surgeon said he should be generally back to full mobility in around three days. This was all good news. And what was even better was when Sun Wukong heard a bird’s scream of joy and, running in stumbling steps outside the tent, watched the peng king fly with his own new wings for what had been the first time in centuries, even when he shifted into his gargantuan alternative form. Sun Wukong was next delighted to see the lion ni king step outside the medical tent touching his face in wonder, as if he himself couldn’t believe that there could ever have been fur and feeling on the once-seared portions of his face again. And finally the scale flood king slithered out and wrapped around Sun Wukong in his version of a hug, grumbling in a voice mostly free of water that while the monkey king was a stinky ape, he was grateful he always kept his word. It had been good, it had been right, it had been necessary, and while Sun Wukong knew he would never be able to completely make up for the damage his actions had caused, at least when it came to the six kings he had helped make it less terrible than before.

It was because of this that he was once again left in a state of confusion when he got back to Qi Xiaotian and his loved ones to let them see everything was okay, and they had started exclaiming in angry tones about what he had lost, even though, as he told them time and time again, he had given it up freely. It had, after all, been owed.

---

Preparations for confronting Lady Bone Demon were going much more smoothly and much more quickly than he would have accomplished alone or along with only Qi Xiaotian’s family, the six kings seeming invigorated by the pieces of his body now embedded in their own. At times it almost felt like the good (bad) old days, when they had spent their immortality going over battle plans and strategies on how to make their mountain caves safe from every harm, how to respond in this or that battle situation...

How to wipe out entire human armies and come back in triumph with the spoils of metal and treasure and meat. 

But back to the now. Sun Wukong’s endless string of ill fortune worried him so much, as if it would taint this endeavor too. But shockingly enough, things started to go as they intended. Spies armed with the information Xiaotian’s crew provided and bearing coats of mail engraved with spells of invisibility and against possession were able to come back unpossessed and with reams of more useful details, information was gathered and traps were set smoothly to break the seal when everything would be in place, and best of all, as Sun Wukong saw it, he was providing a very useful distraction indeed, all while Xiaotian and his crew got to remain safe at base camp. As the six kings went about their secret endeavors, Sun Wukong made himself as much a thorn in the side of the Lady Bone Demon as he could all while the Lady Bone Demon turned her focus to him and him alone. It had been a very clever plan of MDK’s to have Qi Xiaotian, his family, and Macaque guised with a powerful simulacra of a death aura, completing the picture with shallow and empty graves in the spot they had all “died,” all so that Sun Wukong could stumble about in the Lady Bone Demon’s sight playing the sobbing and remorseful but still selfish fool who had, for all that he had completely lost to her, was running once again from the consequences of his choices and lashing out like a wild cornered beast. Still, her attention and malice were so great that Sun Wukong had to wonder if her influence on Macaque had gone both ways, so that she was now infected with some thread of the obsessive rage that had held his brother in its thrall for centuries. Individual assassins, small hordes, and then entire armies of enscorcelled beings, humans and yaoguai both, went after him and him alone. And this was all to the good. While he led these beings on a convoluted chase, the six kings and their allies were able to sneak around unmolested to gather what they needed. Even when the bone demon’s ghostly armies actually caught him, they could do less and less against him every time. His molten core stopped any attempt at possession from laying him low. Bone, stone, and steel alike shattered on his hide. He grew back arms, legs, even had to reattach his head on one occasion, until his body started to heal itself so rapidly and so automatically that wounds--which fewer and fewer weapons were able to inflict-- disappeared almost as quickly as they were made. His strength, already significant, became more monstrous still. And he could listen to the Lady Bone Demon mock him through her soldiers all she liked for being responsible for the deaths of those who had trusted him. He wept, he raged, and all the time listened to the Lion Ni King’s analytical voice as he was instructed to move from one place to another, keeping their enemy unaware of the trap being carefully laid all around her. Finally, after five days, he was told to stop at particular coordinates and act exhausted, something he hadn’t felt now for weeks.

Sun Wukong collapsed exactly where he had been instructed, and allowed crocodile tears to fall from his eyes as an army of enthralled soldiers, and then finally the Lady Bone Demon herself, perched smugly on top of her giant mech, advanced into view. The cold power of her telekinesis wrapped around his body and brought him face to face with this hated enemy, although it wasn’t enough to penetrate his core and make his mind susceptible to her manipulation. He could see that that didn’t stop her from believing she had now completely won.

“You know, stinking ape, I had believed destiny would assure your worthless successor would have destroyed himself with the flame you so desperately sought, but it is a nice bonus that it was your own brother’s malice, your old friend’s hatred, and your own stupidity that got him killed.” 

Sun Wukong allowed himself a shuddering, pain-laden breath. The Lady Bone Demon smiled wider, gloating in her victory.

“To think, all it took to lay the Great Sage Equal to Heaven low was to just pump his twin full of the hate that was already there and point him in the right direction. You really couldn’t help but make enemies of everyone you have every loved, could you? And what a show! It truly was a delight to see your once-loved brother attack you with such ferocity, your former friends scream at you with such vehemence, and to see,” she continued with a fang-filled grin, “your beloved student beat you to a bloody pulp.”

Sun Wukong started, feeling a trickle of uncertainty, but he was determined to keep up appearances. They have as much to lose as I do, he reminded himself. They would not abandon me like this at such a critical juncture. Still, he let out a genuine sob. The Lady Bone Demon seemed to relish in it. “Oh yes, I was an influence in his mind riiiight up to his death. It was so easy to encourage that rage. He hated you so much, and rightfully so. And it seems the same was true of your former friends, wasn’t it? To think they would be the ones to land the final blow on that worthless little mortal! And then they threw you out into this cold, cold world all alone. They all hated you. Of course they would never work with you. And now you are going to die, despised by everyone you have ever loved. But don’t worry.” She levitated his stone-covered staff above his head, preparing it for a final blow. “You’ll all soon get a chance to try and reconcile in hell.”

 The staff swung down.

Sun Wukong felt nothing but the cold shock at the realization he had been betrayed. 

And then a sudden, vicious, and blade-filled storm of wind shrieked between them, sending the staff spinning far away and slicing the rocks off of it, freeing it from the bone yaoguai’s influence. The Lady Bone Demon had no time to give anything but a startled gasp before a colossal bird, the peng king himself, abruptly bore down on them from the clouds above. With talons sheathed in enchanted metal, he grasped the bone mech tightly, and with a mighty thrust of his wings lifted the entire lot of them far into the sky. Sun Wukong was abruptly dropped, but then found himself caught and borne aloft by MDK, who was well protected in heavily enchanted amor and riding a kite shaped like their gargantuan feathered comrade. “Protect the peng king!” he heard her cry over the howl of wind, and then she threw him up towards his enemy. And then, as he had been wanting to do for weeks, Sun Wukong punched the Lady Bone Demon right in the face.

...   

They had flown for but a minute, but had gone so fast and so far above the clouds that Sun Wukong had no idea where they were headed. The entire time he and MDK had been keeping the Lady Bone Demon busy and off balance, the two monkeys leaping and flying around her, striking where they could and moving so fast that she wasn’t able to keep her sight on more than one of them at a time. Finally MDK let out squeal whose meaning only Sun Wukong could understand, and he threw himself off the mech and onto MDK’s kite as the peng king suddenly opened his talons. He flashed both his fangs and his middle fingers at the Lady Bone Demon’s shocked, outraged, bloody, and now uncertain face as she and her giant mech were dropped, and fell crashing to a desert floor, a meteor strike of sand erupting around them. But it swiftly clambered upright, all but completely undamaged. The Lady Bone Demon smoothed out her somewhat tattered hanfu and shot the two monkeys, who had flown down to her level, a hate-filled glare. Her eyes started to gleam with cold death magic, but then she gave a pain-filled gasp as the scale flood king and a dragon that Sun Wukong realized was the true form of Xiaojiao barreled into her from behind, knocking the mech down once again. Roaring, the scale flood king vomited forth a very river of water over the limbs of the bone mech, which froze as it hit. Xiaojiao, for her own part, blasted a concentrated beam of light onto the back of the mech, her serpentine neck moving back and forth, and Sun Wukong realized she was engraving something into the mechs very core. Abruptly the two dragons were knocked back by a telekinetic blast, the mech’s limbs groaning as they exerted themselves, and broke free of the ice. But the dragons had done their work well, and the seal that had stolen the monkey king’s powers was projected from the bone demon’s mech, fully exposed and locked in place. 

“Woooowwww...this lady must have REALLY hated you to put so much effort into a binding seal, yeah?”

MDK and Sun Wukong turned. They were greeted by the sights of the Snub-nosed monkey king and Lion Ni King, both of them heavily armored, Snub-nosed bristling with projectile weaponry, Lion Ni, who was wearing his quadruped form, sparking with powerful magic. 

“You two stand by as we get this seal sorted. You’ll be needed soon enough!” With that, Snub-nosed aimed what looked like a full-sized cannon at the seal. Lion Ni extended numerous cords of his mane forward and, embedding them into the cannon, the two worked in tandem to send a magic-laden sphere into the center of the seal. Sun Wukong held his breath, and then felt rather than heard the seal start to crack. the Lady Bone Demon screamed in rage, and shielding the seal with her mech’s arms directed it to charge right at them. Snub-nosed hopped on Lion Ni’s back, screaming “Incoming!” before she switched over to a grenade launcher and started to fire at the advancing mech, aiming right at the joints of its legs and causing it to stumble as the yaoguai swiftly scattered. 

Sun Wukong realized how clever his former friends had been to host this battle here. Between attacking the mech’s joints and with the soft sand ensuring that the bone mech’s spiked legs would sink deeply into the land wherever they hit, it almost seemed to be becoming more trouble than it was worth to keep the mech upright and moving.

 The Lady Bone Demon seemed to have reached the same conclusion, and kept the mech still as she unleashed barrages of bullets, lasers, and bombs from its interior, while she herself unleashed one telekinetic blast after another. Yet she was compelled to expose the seal once again when the demon bull king, fully restored to his former strength and taking on his true form of a gargantuan white bull, slammed into the back of the mech and forced its arms to go askew. Snub-nosed and Ni Lion took another shot that struck true, and the seal cracked further. The two dragons were back up, and from there it was a raging battle as the assembled yaoguai kings tried to get the seal completely exposed once again while the Lady Bone Demon attempted to keep it covered while trying to rain death on them all. MDK grabbed Sun Wukong, and together they flew but a short distance away until she deposited him in the midst of what he realized was a giant yaouguai army. He guessed that they were there to be part of “Plan B,” should the six kings fail. “Wait here until your strength is restored and seal is gone. Then hit her with everything you’ve got. We’ll do the same.” She leapt on her kite and swiftly flew off to lend her support to her sworn brothers. 

Sun Wukong felt almost giddy at the thought that this was working, he was going to be part of a battle that could actually be won, and then spotted Red Boy, who was watching the ongoing brawl with concern, even though his admiration for his father was clearly shining through. Sun Wukong jogged up to him.

“Where’s Qi Xiaotian?”

Red Boy flicked his attention to him, and then back to the battle before them, hissing in delight as his father’s horns embedded themselves into one of the bone mech’s arms before he gave an almighty wrench of his neck and tore that limb from it socket.

“Never fear, primate. The noodle boy is safely tucked away back at base camp, along with the pig and the fish and even all three pieces of the flame. Don’t worry your monkey head about him or anything else. She couldn’t possibly get her hands on any more power now, and my father, the great Demon Bull King, will crush her under his hoo-!!”

Sun Wukong lifted his former best friend’s son up by his jacket, and shook him roughly.

“What do you mean all three pieces of the flame!?!?!”

Red Boy looked intimidated for a second, but his features soon settle back into a sneer.

“I mean we collected the last piece of the flame! It’s an important part of Plan F, it it had come to that! But this is working perfectly, so let me go this instant you flea-bitten prim-!!”

Sun Wukong wasn’t listening as Red Boy continued to yell at him. The earlier words of the Lady Bone roared in his head.

“ I was an influence in his mind...”

“that worthless little mortal...”

“I had believed destiny would assure your worthless successor would have destroyed himself with the flame you so desperately sought...”

“destroyed himself with the flame...”

He was going to try to use the flame of Samadhi, and be destroyed in the process.

Sun Wukong tightened his grip on Red Boy, despite the prince’s yells of protest.

“You have to take me to base camp.”

“What?! But the seal is almost shattered! You have to stay here and help my father win! Are you seriously planning to run away now?! You really do just abandon everyone right when things get tough you stinking ap-!

“DO YOU WANT YOUR FATHER TO DIE?!?! TAKE ME TO BASE CAMP NOW!!!” 

Red Boy gave a gasp of fear, but the desperation in Sun Wukong’s eyes seemed to have convinced him that something was afoot. He scowled fiercely. 

“Fine! But you’re the only one at fault if this goes wrong!” And with that he grabbed the monkey king’s arms, whisking them both away in a whirl of flame.

Sun Wukong just hoped it wasn’t too late.

...

As soon as they arrived, Sun Wukong had demanded Red Boy point out where the flame was kept before sprinting towards it, leaving the confused and frustrated prince in his wake. He burst into the tent, and found in a mass of confusion as yaoguai soldiers ran back and forth. He grabbed one as they passed. 

“What is it?! What’s going on?!

The soldier, one of the lion types, looked scared. 

“Monkey King! Someone has somehow stolen all three pieces of the flame of Samadhi! We just discovered the theft and are scouring the camp for the thief-”

Sun Wukong raced out of the tent, trying to get frantic mind into a state of calm. He had a good idea of who was behind it, and needed to find him before...

He refused to finish the thought. 

The monkey king could feel the seal cracking, could feel tendrils of his power leaking through, and so this time had less trouble in calling up his far seeing eyes. Telling his racing heart to calm down, he started a methodical search. 

There. 

In a corner of the camp, hidden behind a row of water barrels, Xiaotian was slowly putting together the pieces of the flame’s source, whispering something over them that was making them fuse back together. he could almost imagine the Lady Bone Demon, looking frantic as his sworn brothers hammered away at her body, her focus torn almost unbearably between two points of control, but inwardly gloating that, with MDK’s full magical focus on her and the facade of Xiaotian’s death thus lifted, she now had her ace in the hole. The monkey king sprinted as fast as he could towards the kid he had put in so much harms’ way, skidding to a halt as Xiaotian, his eyes glazed over with a horrible blue film, whispered that he could finally be useful, and activated the flame. 

There was no time left to think. Sun Wukong rushed forward and grabbed the rapidly awakening flame from his former student’s unresisting hands, and swallowed it down into his immortal stone flesh. 

...

He was burning. 

He was burning but his flesh was restoring itself as quickly as it could be destroyed, and there was Qi Xiaotian looking at him with absolute horror but was once again free from the Lady Bone Demon’s grasp, whole and undamaged, so it was okay. His organs were aflame and he was in so much pain, but he still let out a monkey’s shriek of delight when he felt that the plan he had put together with his former yaoguai friends had worked perfectly. Their combined intelligence, strength, and magical prowess had shattered the seal that had allowed that sneering witch to steal the monkey king’s power, and Sun Wukong was burning, but he was still careful to ensure all that cursed strength flowed back into him, with not a drop of it worming its way back to Xiaotian (you and your power hurt him so much you bad monkey don’t you dare hurt him again!). 

From there, it had been a simple matter, even with the Flame of Samadhi raging in his body, to summon back his somersault cloud and fly as fast he could back to the ongoing battle. As he flew, he forced his burning body to shift and change, forced it to grow colossal in size and for two other heads to sprout from his neck. When he burst onto the battlefield, he was as tall as he had been when he had caused havoc in heaven, glaring around himself with five eyes instead of one, and with his true vision restored he got to witness first hand the look of terror on the Lady Bone Demon’s face as she realized that destiny was now spinning in a direction she had never believed possible. 

Sun Wukong saw her for the monster she had always been, how even now she was using a little human girl as her physical host. By a massive effort, he forced his two arms to split into six--one pair composed of his stone skin, another of his magma muscle, and a third still to his very spirit, and leapt upon the bone mech, shoving his spirit’s hands through the Lady Bone Demon and separating her in one blow from her host. The little girl tumbled like a leaf through the air, only to be caught by Demon Bull King, who had at some pointed shifted back to his purple, bipedal form. Left with no choice--for every nearby living sentient being was well charmed against possession--the Lady Bone Demon, a spirit once again, sunk into her mech. Sun Wukong gripped her with his six arms, and laughed in her face, spraying magma, over what now felt like feeble blows as she hit him with everything her mech could give. 

Even though he was undergoing the torture of burning alive, it had been in this form that he had challenged all of heaven. And between the two foes, robbed of his power the Lady Bone Demon didn’t slightly compare to the divine army whose equal he had been. 

Sun Wukong watched her with five eyes from his three heads, watched her realize what was going to happen for all her talk about destiny in her favor as he grabbed her stolen steel frame, and summoned a ferocious and lightning filled somersault cloud to hurl them both into the sky, where she couldn’t get her bearings. And up there, where no one but the two of them could be hurt, he took taken a vicious pleasure in the outraged cries and then screams of pain as he tore the Lady Bone Demon to pieces, setting each one alight with the Flame of Samadhi that now coursed in every nerve. For all his preparation, all his work to ensure that he would feel nothing, the pain was horrible. But he could take it. He could take anything, because it was this that let him quickly annihilate the monster who had robbed so many of so much. 

In the end, and in spite all she had done, she pleaded for her life. And that had made burning her completely out of existence all the more satisfying. 

When she had been rendered into ash, Sun Wukong glanced down. So many, so many loved faces were staring up at him, wearing every expression from amazement to sheer horror. But they were safe, they were all safe. He was so happy he could have wept. And he wished so much he could join them and be a happy family with these loved ones, just like he once was all those centuries ago. And yet...

No. You started this, you monster, and you don’t dare to not see this through.

...

He was flying as fast as he could without causing any more damage, the memory of realizing that his havoc in heaven had meant deadly fire on Earth compelling him to fly higher and higher where the fire in his body couldn’t hurt anyone until he was looking down on the planet. From that vantage point Sun Wukong could decide on his next move, and made the appropriate adjustments before hurtling himself towards one fo the world’s oceans. But he slowed again as he entered the Earth’s atmosphere, feeling himself weakening and not wanting to cause a tsunami. He was flying so fast, and then he was falling, and then he crashed into sand that melted into glass as he hit it. Sun Wukong’s three mouths let out a bellow of frustration that quickly shifted into an agonized gurgle, and then he was vomiting the molten rock of what felt like every organ his chest cavity possessed. But the fire still burned tucked safe away in his immortal stone flesh, and his body continued to remorselessly repair itself even as more and more magma gushed from his mouths until he was laying in a pool of it. He wanted to rest. He wanted the hurt to stop. But it could not. He had to see this through. 

Sun Wukong stood back up on shaking legs, and his misery was but compounded when his far seeing eyes revealed that for much as Xiaotian rightfully despised him, he was now flying in the airship they had started this journey with at top speed right for him, accompanied by Xiaojiao, Redy Boy, his father figures and Sandy, his tear-stained face set with determination and concern. Xioatian was as good as Sun Wukong was bad. He should have known that even after everything kid would try to save him, even if it meant--he vomited up another geyser of molten rock--he was putting himself in mortal danger. 

Every nerve screaming at him, feeling like he was being split into pieces, Sun Wukong summoned that monstrous somersault cloud once again and continued on his last route. He continued to fly now over the ocean, going further and further from shore, over deeper and deeper water. And as he did so, he restored the telepathic bond between himself and the kind human he had once hoped to make his successor, fully aware now that there could never be any such thing, not if Xiaotian, not is his loved ones, were to ever find happiness.

“Qi Xiaotian, please stop!!”

Xiaotian started in shock, his eyes gushing fresh tears at the sight of his former mentor.

“Monkey King! We’re coming to help you! Hold on a little longer! Red things he might be able to draw the flame out of your body and and maybe, and maybe--”  

“Xiaotian, no! It’s too dangerous, and it’s too late. I’m begging you, turn back.”

Xiaotian looked as if he had been slapped, and then just looked scared and desperate, because Xiaotian was good and wanted to save everyone, even someone he entirely loathed. “N...No! We’re going to save you! We...We have to save you! You’re going to be okay! You’re going to be my mentor again! And I’ll be the new monkey king while you enjoy your retirement! It’s okay! It’s what I want! I promise it’s what I want!” 

Sun Wukong grimaced at the lie. At the very end, at least, they needed to be honest. “No, you don’t. Because you’ve seen what I truly am and what my life is. You know that being the monkey king means that for all your great power and no matter what you do, you will fail in catastrophic ways. Everyone you have ever loved will either die or grow to despise you. And it will be all your own fault.”

“ So turn back. You...you all still have good lives with nice thing in them, friends and family who love you so, so much. And I’m just getting what comes to all monsters.” 

“This is exactly what I deserve.”

And then Xiaotian, too kind for his own good, caused himself no small amount of bad emotions as he tried bargaining, tried pleading, and finally screamed that if Sun Wukong went through with his plan to rid the world of the Flame of Samadhi and his own cursed life, he would never forgive him. That last part hurt. It hurt so much. The possibility of forgiveness was so precious, especially when it came from one you loved.  And yet here, since honestly was important...

“Oh, Xiaotian...neither you nor anyone else was ever going to forgive me either way.”

He could tell he was correct. The expression on Xiaotian’s face could mean nothing else. 

Sun Wukong quickly went on. He was up to his torso in the ocean now. His time left was so, so short. He had to spend it well.

“It’s okay Xiaotian. This is a good thing. This fight between me and the bone witch? It’s just monsters destroying each other. And I’ve made binding arrangements with all six of my former friends. They’ll make sure that you’re never hurt again. And I know you have no reason to believe me, but I promise that from here on out I won’t be a problem. I promise, I promise, words are worthless but I promise.” 

“So please...forget I ever existed, and be happy.”   

It was there the connection between them cut in a final flash of golden sparks. He no longer had the strength to maintain it. Sun Wukong was up to his neck in freezing water and sinking rapidly into the ocean’s depths. Already he could feel the force of the flame diminishing, even if only a little. He hoped his final numbness would come soon. 

He knew he didn’t deserve to, but in his last seconds in sunshine Sun Wukong allowed himself one last use of his far-seeing eyes, one last look at those he loved. Qi Xiaotian, up in the airship with Xiaojiao and Red Boy and Sandy and his fathers, standing perfectly still but surrounded by those that he loved; the little ones of the Six Sage’s war camps, running around in what looked like a panic, but he could already tell his former friends were organizing relief efforts, finding a way to help the Lady Bone Demon’s victims, making everything better. And the six sages themselves, their eyes wide with shock but standing tall, undamaged, giving effective commands like the great leaders they were. They were all alive. They were all healthy. They were all safe. He would never be able to hurt them again. They were all finally safe.

As Sun Wukong sank down to where there would never be anything again but darkness and loneliness and agony until he finally became as unfeeling as the stone he had always been, he clung to the comfort that he had, at long last, done the right thing. 

#blood #violence #body horror #monkie kid #lego monkie kid #lmk #lmk fic #lmk sun wukong #lmk monkey king

[itsstrange]

Coffee Run & Green Eyes

Series: Spark Between Us

Relationship: Jensen Ackles x Skyline McNoir (OFC)

A/N: Hey everyone! I know it’s been a long time and I apologize for those waiting for more stories, but if you follow me on IG then you would know that this last week I was struck with a stomach flu which caused me to not have enough energy for various things. Luckily, I’ve recovered and feel much better. I also want to apologize to those who have requested me some stories, don’t worry I have Not forgotten about you! Just been dealing with some things!

But!! To not keep you guys in the dark I decided to post a Series I wrote for Ao3 on here, just to give y’all something to read meanwhile I work on some other works for y’all!! Hope y’all enjoy it!

Another thing, we have hit 105 followers y’all!!!! Thank you so much for all the love y’all continue in giving me!! I appreciate it so much!! 🥲💚

✨{Credits to owner for the gif}✨

Summary: Skyline McNoir tags along with a few friends who are attending a convention of some show she’s never watched. Little did she know, she would fall head over heels for the lead actor.

Word Count: 2.4 K

Warnings: Will contain Fluff, public sex, alcohol consumption, public fingering, just pure NSFW for all you Jensen fans out there 😊

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ENJOY!!

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The blasting chorus of Follow Me Now by Jason Gleed, wakes Skyline up. Her Hazel eyes glare straight ahead at the coconut cream wall for a few seconds before bringing the cover above her head, trying to muffled the music. Which didn’t help. At all. Then to make the morning less fun, her bed begins to shake violently by her best friend who’s jumping up down awhile singing at the top of her lungs. Skyline groans into the covers and tries to bury herself deeper into the warmth, but before she can even hide, the covers are being shoved off her form. A shiver runs throughout her body from the coldness in the room.

“C’mon Sky! Today’s the day!” Erin yells as she hovers above,

Skyline groans once again, eyes closed shut when it’s far too bright in the room “Five more minutes,”

“No come on,” Erin says, slightly pushing Sky’s body with her foot, “Tiffany and Laila are already downstairs grabbing breakfast,”

Still not moving, Erin shoves her body once again with her foot, when that didn’t do the trick an evil smirk spreads on her face. Grabbing an unused pillow, she raises it above her head before roughly slamming it against Sky’s head, causing her to jerk upright. With sleep still in her eyes, Sky is only able to squint at her best friend.

“Erin! What the fu-,” Her words were cut off when a large pillow smacks her in the face,

Erin chuckles at her, ignoring the death stare as she hops off her bed, “Chop chop.. we got a busy day today!”

With a roll of her eyes and a loud groan, Sky rolls off the comforter and towards the bathroom. After taking care of her regular morning routines, she hops in the shower. Erin’s music still blasted through the speakers, as Sky took a quick shower and she honestly hoped none of their neighbors complained about their disturbance, she knew she would have if she was trying to get a few more hours of shut eye.

That’s all she ever really wanted at the moment, sleep. After months of studying, exams, piles upon piles of work, and busting all nighters she was finally in winter break. The feeling of being able to come home for the holidays and spending those days with her family sounded amazing and relaxing. However, after the second day of being home, she gets a call from Erin. Mentioning something about having another extra ticket for a convention to meet the cast of some show she’s never watched. She kindly declined the offer, wanting to spend her days off with her family sounded like a much better idea than meeting unknown actors. However, Sky often forgets Erin is not the type to take no for an answer and demanded her to hand the phone over to her mother.

Thinking her mother would defend her and find a way to convince Erin to try and find someone else to take to the convention, Sky hands the phone over to her mother. You can only imagine who won that argument.

Once out of the shower with a towel wrapped around her body, Sky heads out the bathroom and towards her duffel bag. In the winter season of Austin, Texas, she decides on a plain long sleeve, black jeans, grey hoodie, black boots on her feet with a leather jacket on top. Once her hair is made and adds a couple splashes of makeup on her face, she grabs her phone and book from the small counter as she follows Erin out the room. After a few minutes later, they finally arrive in the breakfast buffet where Tiffany and Laila are already stuffing themselves with waffles and eggs. With a yawn, Sky makes her way over to the buffet with Erin right behind her. Once they both get their plates and sit down on the table, they dig in before getting on with their day.

****

8:45 am

“Oh my god!! I just hugged Speight!!” The sound of Laila coming around the corner interrupts Sky from her book,

The sight of Laila bouncing up and down on her feet with a wide grin makes a small chuckle escape from Skyline. As her friends beamed over this Speight guy, Sky returns her focus down on her book. Not really paying much attention at their excitement, but still having a smile on her lips as she reads the next chapter in her book. Even if she’s not having the same excitement as her friends, she is still having fun with them. Being around them in general for whatever reason always brightens her day. No matter how rough of a day she’s seems to be having, her girls always know just how to distract her and make her have fun.

“Ohh it’s almost time for Osric’s panel,” Tiffany says while looking down at her phone,

No longer able to focus on her book, Sky marks her spot before getting up from the floor.

“You guys go in, I’ve got auto’s for Kim at nine,”

It’s barely nine in the morning? Jesus. Sky thinks to herself, the day has felt extremely long she could have sworn it was already noon.

“Okay, let’s go Sky,” Laila motions her head to the side for her to follow,

“If you guys want me to continue tagging along, I’m gonna need an espresso,” Sky states, feeling yet another yawn creeping up her throat,

Her friends chuckle at her but agreed with her idea. They wouldn’t want her dragging her feet all over the convention, besides, coffee did sound like a great idea. Once writing down their preferred drinks in her notes, Sky leaves through the doors, down the steps and towards a coffee shop not too far away. It was only a couple blocks away, she should make it back in no time. Hugging her jacket closer to her body when the wind picks up, Sky quickens her movements to avoid its freezing weather but careful to not slip on the wet pavement. The last thing she needs is to fall flat on her ass, better yet get a concussion or go back home with a broken wrist.

Boy would her mom faint if she saw her daughter in a cast. Will most likely give her a lecture on why it’s important not to be on the phone during the most worst seasons. ‘If you weren’t on the phone this wouldn’t have happened Skyline’. Yep. She can definitely hear her ranting.

After a few blocks in the harsh winds, Skyline is finally reaching the small little coffee joint. Just as she reaches for the handle of the door, another, large, hand reaches at the same time. Thick fingers slightly touching her own, making her pull back with an apology.

“No it’s fine go ahead,” A deep voice says beside her, letting a shiver run down her body,

Most likely from the weather, what else would it be?

She looks up at the man. Dark beard, shades on his face, black hat on his head, with a black T-Shirt underneath a checkered navy flannel and black Levi’s jacket. Even under the dark shades she can tell he was good looking, handsome in fact.

“No you can go ahead,” Sky smiles at the man, stepping aside for him to enter,

He only shakes his head, gripping the door handle as he opens it for her, “Please I insist, my mom would throw a fit if she finds out I didn’t show my manners,”

Sky chuckles at him, “Well we wouldn’t want that now,”

The man chuckles back, smile forming on his lips. Man did that smile just make her stomach flip.

“No, we really wouldn’t,” Chuckling once more at him she accepts the offer with a thanks before entering the coffee shop,

As she walks inside, the change of temperature immediately hits her cold cheeks. Almost as if a heating furnace was suddenly shoved in her face, but she wasn’t complaining, the warmth was needed. Walking further into the coffee shop, she takes a glance over her shoulder to see if the man was behind her, but only lets a smile appear when she catches the moment of him allowing an elderly couple enter before him.

That’s sweet. She thinks to herself as she walks up to the counter. Once her drinks have been ordered and paid, she heads over to a small empty table near the window. Sitting on the chair she pulls out her book and continues where she left off as she waits for her drinks. A few minutes had passed and Sky was too engrossed in her book to notice her name being called out by the barista. Eventually though, she comes back to reality when someone places her drink in front her. Looking up from her book she meets eyes with bright emerald orbs, and noticing those breathtaking eyes belong to the same man from the door.

“I’m guessing your Skyline?,” The way her name rolls off his deep voice sends a shiver down her spine,

Definitely can’t be the air this time, absolutely not.

Eyeing the cup of coffee in front of her, she lifts a eyebrow at the man, teasing him. Even if she sees her name written on the side of the cup.

“And what makes you think that?” The way his lips slightly lift causes something to flip in her stomach,

Again.

“Well.. seeing how there’s hardly folks in here,” He looks around the shop for a few seconds before landing his eyes on hers again, “and you being the only one sitting down without a coffee.. I took a guess,”

Sky hums with a smile as she takes the cup, “Nice deduction,”

He shrugs a shoulder with a smile, “This seat taken?”

Sky shakes her head as she takes careful sips from her drink. With a small smile the man pulls out the chair with his other free hand, seeing how he has a cup of his own in one hand.

“I’m Ross by the way,” The man extends a hand once seated,

With a smile Sky accepts his hand, feeling it warm and rough as it wraps around her own.

“Nice to meet you,” Still smiling she pulls away from his firm hand,

“You around from here or just passing through?” He asks, taking careful sips from his cup,

Sky softly smiles at him as she wraps her hands around her coffee, trying to warm up her fingers.

“Born and raised,” He raises a brow at the small fact,

“No kidding?”

She nods, “Yeah but I’m just home for the holidays,”

He hums with a nod, “In the army or something?”

Sky couldn’t help the chuckle that escapes from her, definitely noticing how the corner of the mans lips slightly lift as well.

“More like college. My last year,”

“Really? What’re you studying?” He asks, taking another sip, never letting his eyes drift from her Hazel ones,

But does notice how they dart down towards his mouth before quickly looking back up to his eyes. A small smirk hides behind the cup, but doesn’t hide it when he pulls it away from his face.

“Biology,” He hums once again with a sincere smile, making her stomach flip,

It was such an odd feeling, especially when it was coming directly from a man she hardly knows. But for some reason, it felt right. Their conversations switched from topic to topic, never faltering. It just felt right, as if they were long time friends catching up with each other instead of two strangers who just met. Eventually, their conversation was cut short with the barista calling out her name once again with the rest of her drinks.

Getting up from her seat she walks over to the counter where her drinks waited. As she grabbed a cup holder and begins placing her drinks in each space, Ross, settles next to her. Getting a whiff of his cologne. Leaning on the counter he had both his and her coffee in either hand, which he hands over with a smile once all coffees were safely secured in place.

“I should get going,” She smiles up at his green orbs, and only then noticing how freckles are splashed on his face,

This man was literally dashing, no doubt about it.

“Yeah same here,” He says looking down at his watch, “Need a ride?”

She shakes her head with a smile, “I’m good thanks,”

“You sure? Heard it might rain,” He continues to lean on the counter as she places her coffee in an empty slot of the holder,

“I’m sure, it’s just a few blocks from here,”

“Well it can rain from those few blocks,” He argues as he gives her a smile, not wanting to end their little moment,

Neither did she, but she had friends waiting and the moment she tells them the reason why she took a little longer than expected, they wouldn’t leave her alone until she gives them the whole shebang.

She lets a small chuckle escape her lips as she picks up the coffees, “I’ll make a run for it,”

He softly chuckles at her comment, green eyes staring straight into her Hazel orbs that have slightly turned grey from her sweater. Definitely finding her and her eyes fascinating and beautiful.

“It was nice meeting you Ross,” She smiles at him as she walks away,

He smiles as he watches her, sending her a wave goodbye when she looks over her shoulder before walking out the door. Watching her leave didn’t feel like a loss, it felt the complete opposite actually. Why? Well for starters, he knew it wouldn’t be the last time he saw her considering she had the all too familiar Creation Entertainment wristband on her left hand. Also, he had her book inside his jacket, another reason on why he would see her again.

Both to retrieve her book and to have a reason to see her again. Don’t get him wrong, he was actually going to give it to her before she left, but the thought of holding it and having a reason to see her again sounded like great idea. He wanted to see her again, wanted to have a conversation longer than 10 minutes and just wanted to get to know her. She was different, in a good way, absolutely in a good way. The way she seemed to not know him or maybe she did but simply did not care made him feel relaxed, made him feel somewhat normal and he would give anything to feel that way again.

Even if it meant “stealing” her book to have an excuse to see her again.

PART 2

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-Hope y’all enjoyed this first part of the series!! Stay tuned for random updates for ‘Spark Between Us’ I won’t give an announcement on when I’ll update it so keep your eyes peeled on it!!

-Turn on Post Notifications!! 🔔 For more!!

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#jensen Ackles #jensen ackles x ofc #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles imagine #Jensen Ackles smut #smut #Spark Between Us Series #supernatural imagine #supernatural #supernatural smut #dean winchester #Dean Winchester x reader #the boys #the boys tv #the boys imagine #Soldier Boy

[spenciegoob]

Cracked Mirror

A/N: hi, I continued to see a bunch of “season 2 Spencer would be so scared of season 12 Spencer, so I decided why not write them meeting? let’s do it, baby super angsty :P it took everything in me to not tag ‘how it should’ve gone’ but basically this is ‘how it should've gone.’

Summary: Spencer Reid? Meet a very much older Spencer Reid.

Pairing: Season 15 Spencer & Season 2 Spencer

Category: Angst

Content Warnings: no ship, mentions of drug addiction, drug abuse, Tobias Hankel, Maeve, mentions of Jeid

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.4K

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Spencer 15:

The smell was always the first thing I noticed when I woke up from a restless sleep. It meant I was alive, that the terrors that danced across my eyelids like a ballad of the doomed were not real. I never believed in the Higher Power, but if there was an Evil Spirit, it possessed my mind the second my guard fluctuated.

The smell, however, the one made up of stiff air that paralyzed you and blood you weren’t sure was yours, that smell meant I got to live another day.

It also meant I could still die.

But now I woke up in a startle because I wasn’t supposed to be here. I escaped this place before, I made it out. Did my only indicator of life just turn into my own personal Hell? Was I finally gone, seconds ago hoping for rest only to come to the conclusion that I would never get the chance?

I was back in a gray jumpsuit, and what scared me the most was how quickly I got up to make my bed.

“Reid, you have a visitor.”

Spencer 2:

They say every person in their career has a moment that changes the way they view their job forever, and I would’ve liked to continue to believe I had mine already, when I put away the first unsub that didn’t deserve the life they were unfortunately gifted to live out. I know I couldn’t sleep much after.

But now that I hurry past empty cells and recreation rooms on my way to a stone box with a killer, I changed my mind.

This was my moment.

I had to keep up with Hotch, and I wish it was because I was scared of getting lost, but it wasn't. If I lose Hotch, I’m afraid I’ll lose my life.

We just had to reach the interrogation room, and we’ll be fine. We just have to talk to... to who?

Who are we here to see? Why am I here?

“Hotch.” The older man stopped his fast pace to turn to me exasperated. I would have that expression too if someone stopped me in a place like this, but here I am, feet stuck to ground like a fear-inducing glue because I can’t remember why I’m here.

“What’s wrong, Reid?”

“Why am I here?” Hotch didn’t get angry, or confused at my question. Instead, Hotch’s face turned into something that was a prized rarity at other times, but right now, it ran my blood cold.

He nodded at me, his face visibly relaxing with understanding, and kindness spreading from his eyes into mine.

“You have someone here you need to see.”

And then he just continued the path we were on until we reached a metal door with a window not large enough to see who was waiting for me on the other side. I didn’t get too close, giving myself a 5 foot head start in case I needed to run, but Hotch would never put me in a position like that, right?

He would never use me as a pawn in a game of life or death.

“Whenever you’re ready.” By the time all the questions flooded through my head like a tsunami that made it to the tip of my tongue, Hotch was gone. 

The invisible magnetic field between myself and the door was a force backed up by science. I felt the way it tugged me forward, like negative and positive electrons charming me with the song of the buzzer unlocking it.

When I was ready, he said. Would I ever be ready for the feeling that washed over me? I felt the weight of the world rest on my shoulders, stuck in an ocean made entirely of resin, slowly hardening around me to keep me trapped.

But I still grasped the cool metal doorknob, and I wish I took a deep breath before entering. It was the wrong call on my part, because I walked in and all the oxygen left my lungs in a flash.

The air in the room felt different. It hung with the purpose of imprisoning those who dare breathe it into their lungs. Enchantment and intoxication were meant to hold beauty and grace, leading the charmed to a fulfillment in life worth living.

But the eyes of Medusa were in the room with me, and I was stupid enough to turn to stone.

“Who are you?” How could I ask that? I knew the answer by looking into his eyes. I say his, because they weren’t mine. Sure, they had the same hazel color, and the same round, boyish shape, but they looked so dull. Sadness, the kind that moves mountains and starts wars, was buried deep in the beholder, casting a shadow over his soul. 

I didn’t stare for very long. I couldn’t.

“You know who I am.” His voice was worse. “I know why I’m here. Sit down.”

“I- I just... Absolutely not! This is- this, I- I can’t. I have to get out of here.” Insanity! It had to be. I was staring at a person I didn’t know, yet knew every little detail about, and I couldn’t breathe.

“Sit down before you panic.” There was no point in lying and saying I was fine, he knew it would be a lie. We weren’t just profilers.

So I sat, taking my time to round the table and pull the chair farther back to establish a far enough distance between us. He did the same. Of course he did.

“Answer my question,” I whispered, looking down at the place where the leg of the table met the top.

“There are far better questions to ask me.” He was right, there were more pressing matters at hand, but how do you ask someone what landed them in a jumpsuit when you were terrified of the answer?

“Did- is time travel a thing?” The second the question left my mouth, I realized how absurd it was, but so was staring into the cracked funhouse mirror I was currently stuck in front of.

“Come on, we don’t have much time, and that’s what you want to ask me? Dig deeper.” Is this how Morgan feels when I’m always right?

How could I dig deeper when it all went so far that the only thing consuming my soul was a bottomless black hole? The memories flashing from projectors all around me as I sank further until eventually my oxygen ran out. Going deeper meant letting the weight of my heart push against my chest like a rock thrown into the depths of the ocean, but I suppose he would follow me.

“What happened?” I looked up to see him take a deep breath, leaning back in the chair with careful contemplation. There was something more though, something that lingered the second we met eyes.

Jealousy. There was nothing of myself to be jealous about, however.

“We made too many mistakes.” We. Only one of us was in the jumpsuit. There had to be some way to avoid that, right?

“God, this is insane!” I promptly shouted, standing up frantically. “You’re the prisoner here, not me, okay? I didn’t do anything. You did. How am I even here? What is happening, I don’t understand.” At the end of my yelling, I was so far out of breath that I had to lean against the wall. “What is this?”

“Tobias Hankel.” No no no, it can’t be. Am I dead?

“Sit down.” I listened immediately this time, too exasperated to care about being cautious about it.

“You’re with him right now, and from what I can tell, you’re probably in a drug-induced dream.” My head shot up at the mention of Tobias’s coping mechanism for myself. “When you wake up, I don’t expect you to hold onto hope, but for that quick second you let go, don’t feel guilty about it. It will eat you alive if you do.”

“You’re insane.”

“Maybe, but I’m right, and you need to listen to everything I’m telling you.” I was never one to make demands like this.

“And if I do? Will it stop me from becoming you?”

“No, probably not.” Before I had the chance to get angry again, I watched the way his eyes started to glisten with tears. I watched him crack a little bit more, adding to the already gaping slashes across his heart. How many more until he breaks?

“Leave them in his pocket,” he continued after taking a grounding deep breath. “You don’t need it.”

“What are you talking about?” Secretly, I knew what he was meant, because after this nightmare ended I would be back in a far worse one silently begging to return to this interrogation room. 

There were so many thoughts running through my head that it was hard to focus on just one. Plus, I wasn’t really getting any context here.

“I don’t think I can give you many details. I don’t even know if we’ll remember this, or how I got here, but we don’t have much time. There are so many things you need to know.”

“I know practically everything.”

“No you don’t, kid. You know nothing.” He suddenly stood up, walking over to the wall on our left, leaning a hand against it and hanging his head. “When you feel like something is wrong with him, don’t keep it to yourself. Tell Hotch, request time off, do whatever you have to do. Just, go visit him.”

“Who?”

“You’ll know.” There was so much guilt in his voice that I felt it in my chest. It was like a hole was drilled into me, leaving my heart exposed to vultures who wouldn’t hesitate to rip pieces from me.

“What about my mom? Do I... you know?”

“No, you don’t, but promise me something.” He turned to look at me again, hazel meeting hazel. “On days that she’s lucid, tell her everything. Tell her what you ate for breakfast, and that one time Morgan fell trying to kick a door open. Tell her about the dark parts, about how much you love her. Tell her everything.”

“Oh God is she-”

“No. I don’t think I should be telling you that, but no. Don’t think like that.” As if remembering something, he rushed back over to sit down, pulling his chair in and leaning over the table. “Stop running every negative outcome of every situation in your head. Be careful, but don’t be so careful it becomes reckless. That’s how people get hurt, including you.”

“Is that what happened to you? Is that how you ended up here?”

“No. I’m innocent, always was. I ended up in here because I let myself get blinded by a fantasy I had no business dreaming about. There’s going to be times for you to have dreams bigger than yourself, but the second they start to become nightmares, you have to pull yourself back. Don’t get trapped, kid.”

“You know, Morgan calls me ‘kid’. I don’t really know if I like it or not.”

“You’ll come to love it, but with Morgan, don’t push him away. He’s one of the only few people in this world that won’t scrutinize or judge you, and you need to be honest with him.”

“Why?” After asking, I immediately regretted it, because his answer was the one I’ve been dreading the most.

“Because things are going to hurt you, and it’s okay to ask for help every once in a while.”

“What things? Tell me,” I begged, rushing my words and internally cringing at how desperate I sound, but I needed to know. I needed to know the truth.

“When you fall in love, tell her.” He casted his eyes downward, staring at his hands rough and calloused from the years, kind of like Hotch.

“Is it... is it JJ?”

“No,” he let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head softly. “You’ll learn one day the difference between being in love with someone, and just simply loving them.”

I couldn’t help the disappointment spread through me for a second, but I quickly gained my composure when I remembered I’m sitting across a profiler.

“This is too much.” My brain was starting to hurt.

“I know, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything.” A question crossed my mind causing my hands to stop their fidgeting for just a moment, but as quickly as it came, it was gone and my hands resumed. He caught it though. Of course he did.

“What was that thought?”

“My d-” I cleared my throat before continuing. “William. Did he ever...?” I let the words fade out, hoping that he would understand where I was going. He did. Of course he did.

“No.” He took a deep breath, eyebrows furrowing and jaw clenching tightly. “He didn’t.”

“Oh.” While I was disappointed, he looked angry. As sick and twisted as it was, I wish I was more like him. Even with the despairing look in his eyes that came with agonizing memories, he was the man everyone expected me to be. 

He looked at me as if he also wished the roles were reversed. Of course he did.

The edges of the room slowly started to get fuzzy, my vision blurring for a second. “You’re waking up.”

“Can- can I ask you something?” Even though I was terrified of the answer.

“Of course.”

“When did it all go wrong?” He let out a long sigh before running his hands down his face.

“I can’t tell you the exact moment, because even I’m not sure. I can tell you that even when it doesn’t feel like it, you’re alive. You survived, and on some days that’s all that’s going to matter.”

“Do you smell that?” Please say yes, because the smell of burning fish hearts and livers was burning my nostrils and clouding my head.

“Wake up, Spencer. It’s okay.”

“Wait!”

Spencer 15:

My eyes shot open only to be met with blinding lights that seared my pupils. The beeping coming from the machine next to me was the second thing I noticed, and the third was a very alarmed Penelope.

“What happened?” My voice was raspy, and my throat burned intensely.

“You don’t remember? Spencer, you collapsed.”

“Oh.” I couldn’t think of what else to say. Logically, I knew I probably sustained a head injury from the explosion, but when I tried to think beyond that, my brain got fuzzy.

“Are you okay? You know, besides the whole passing out thing?”

“Y-yeah, I just.” I stopped talking. Just what? Penelope hummed curiously for me to continue, but I couldn’t.

“I think I got a second chance.” No matter how vague it was, how little she knew of what that truly meant, Penelope beamed with joy at my answer, and I smiled right back.

“I’ll go get the doctor.” And when she left, I stared up at the ceiling, hoping that the scared kid I used to be took my advice.

____

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#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #Criminal Minds Spencer Reid #spencer reid Criminal Minds #spencer reid angst #season 2 spencer reid #season 15 spencer reid #maeve donovan #tobias hankel #jeid #diana reid #Criminal Minds #criminal minds angst #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #Spencer Reid fic #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds fic #criminal minds imagine #prison spencer reid

[pillow-anime-talk]

mistletoe. {pt.2}

synopsis: Killing cursed spirits with Satoru, winter prom with Metori and sincere conversation with Juuzou.

# tags: scenarios; christmas!au; current relationships & crush culture; romance; fluff; a bit of angst; sfw

includes: female reader ft. satoru gojou {jjk} + metori saiko {saiki k. no psi nan} + juuzou suzuya {tokyo ghoul}

part one {click}

— SATORU

“... Y/N-chan, on the left!”

“... Hey, hey! Look up, sweetheart!”

“... Oi! Behind you!”

“... Behind you too! Kick their asses, Satoru~!”

“... YEAH! Here’s my super strong girl!”

You two have been in the forest; for over twenty minutes you dealing with killing smaller or larger curses that frightened mushroom pickers or wild animals. You had a lot of fun doing it, all the time competing to see who killed more evil creatures. Of course, your boyfriend was winning so far, by three, but how could you know that some of them would come out of the forest litter, literally letting the white-haired man kill them all in a few seconds? Well, but at least you killed about twelve curses yourself, and that was a really nice result.

On the one hand, you enjoyed spending time with Gojou like that, because it was very rare for the two of you to be together on a mission, but on the other hand... It was the time of Christmas that you wanted to spend in your own home, surrounded by delicious food and desserts, hot wine or beer, loved ones, including your boyfriend’s cute students or your mutual friends. From a long time, that is, from the moment you became a sorcerer, you didn’t spend any holidays, birthdays or anniversaries as you would like. There was simply no time and energy for it because every day, apart from some Sundays, you worked to make life better for vulnerable people. It wasn’t a bad job, but sometimes... when you looking at ‘normal’ couples you envied their ignorance to the fact that some evil had appeared around them. You envied them that they could spend their free time together doing stupid things or relaxing in front of the TV.

So you sighed softly, raising the hand in which you held the small pocket knife. Small as your anti-curse tool was, it was also extremely effective and dangerous. Therefore, you cut the throat of one of the evil souls without any problems, thus defeating the last enemy.

“Ahhhh. Finally...! You’re not hurt, baby?” The young man said in a cheerful voice, and you shook your head in disapproval. Second later, you cleaned the little knife and then, hid it in one of the pockets of your black pants. “Would you like to get some hot chocolate and cake?”

“Huh? Have we finished all our work for today?” You asked in surprise, and the man just bit his lip with joy, putting his finger to his mouth after a while.

“Yes, although you forgot one thing, love.” You raised an eyebrow at his amused words. However, Satoru quickly got rid of your unawareness as soon as he raised his right hand and pointed at something above with his index finger. For a moment you were sure that he meant a curse that hadn’t been killed before, but as it turned out, it was mistletoe growing on one of the tall trees; you were surprised that during the fight he was able to additionally notice a small, green plant. Anyway, you just chuckled lightly as you stood on your tiptoes and tugged at the twenty-eight-year-old by his jacket.

You were happy that at least this one, very sweet Christmas moment could happen to you during the winter season. Thanks to this, these holidays weren’t so bad and devoid of spirit.

— METORI

Every year there was a winter prom at your school; it was the third time for you, while for Saiko, who only joined your class this year, it was something new. Of course, he was skeptical about it from the start and generally discouraged by the very idea of ​​spending time with all PK Academy students, classmates and teachers. That’s why he immediately told you that if you want to go to the prom, he can arrange whatever prom you want; he literally said if you wanted Beyoncé he could call her.

But you just smiled warmly and said that school party is enough for you and you really like it. So he couldn’t refuse you... after all, the gray-haired young boy had a huge, indescribable weakness for you. Plus, even though you’ve been dating for a few weeks, Metori still couldn’t understand how... gentle and simple you were. You weren’t interested in luxury, his money, where his father worked. Instead, you asked every day if he had breakfast, if he would like to go for a walk with you, if he would like to come to you for dinner because your mother cooked a delicious Mexican dish. It was something new and nice for a teenager who had grown up in prosperity and splendor throughout his life. It didn’t bother him, but the prom... it was quite strange and mysterious. But he agreed, so he couldn’t take his words back because he didn’t want you to get sad or disappointed.

Thus, he bought a new, well-fitting and expensive suit – one that would fit perfectly with your delicate dress, which at the same time matches to the color of your shiny eyes. He also paid for new shoes, a watch, and a hairdresser visit, but even that couldn’t compare to your soft, natural blushes and the sweet facial expression you gave him when he came to your house with his butler.

“... You’re stressed?” You asked quietly as you sat in the car and he squeezed your little hand between his much larger ones.

“I’ve just never been at a prom... public... especially at school.” He muttered, and though he turned his head, you could see a hint of blush on his nose and both cheeks. So you chuckled lightly as you cuddled up against his shoulder.

“I’m pretty sure you’ll like it.”

The school hasn’t changed much; only a few holiday decorations have been added here and there. However, the gymnasium took your breath away because it was magically decorated. But before you had time to take your seats on the other side of the door, your physical education teacher stopped the two of you.

“Couples enter after payment.” Mr. Matsuzaki said, and the Santa Claus hat on his head added to the charm of his muscular figure.

Of course, Saiko was already taking out his wallet, but you quickly stopped it, pointing in a specific direction. It was, obviously, the smol mistletoe, which was the aforementioned entry ticket for couples who decided to show up at the ball together. So you smiled slightly at your boyfriend and he looked at you confused.

“What is it?”

“O-Oh, you never kissed under the mistletoe?”

“Kissing under it has any meaning?” He asked, still surprised, and you just moved closer to his face, stealing a short, really sweet kiss.

“It’s a tradition, love. You have to kiss under every mistletoe if you notice one.” You said happily and then thanked the teacher for going inside the gym.

Of course, Metori in his head was already calculating how many tons of mistletoe he should buy so that you could continue kissing him as sweetly as you just did.

— JUUZOU

You put two cups of hot, beautifully fragrant chocolate on the table; one was with two white marshmallows and the other with six. Of course, it was easy to guess which portion was for Juuzou and which was for you. Nevertheless, you smiled gently and then sat down next to the white-haired boy, staring at him out of the corner of your eye.

“... About what did you dream, Juuzou-kun?” You asked softly, taking the purple cup between both hands. The warm ceramics pleasantly burned your all fingers, which made you breathe blissfully. “Of course, if you don’t want to, you don’t have to tell me. We can just sit in silence and drink our sweet cocoa.” You added after a brief second so as not to put unnecessary pressure or general stress on the nineteen-year-old.

“It’s no big deal. I dreamed about my mom.” He admitted hesitantly, also taking his dark-green mug. “When I woke up and looked at the calendar I realized we had Christmas time and... Well, my mom never gave me any, not even a small gift, nor did I ever spend that time like other children my age. It hit me a bit. Not that I regret it, but... what Christmas really is?” His short speech made you look at him with a very sad expression on your face and after a quick while you just put your warm chocolate on the table, getting up from your wooden chair and walking to a random cupboard in your smol kitchen.

This year you didn’t have time (because of work) and no idea (because of fatigue) for presents for loved ones, and even more so for the unexpected guest – Suzuya, who loved to sleep in your house because, as he once said, ‘He felt at your place very safe’, but you managed to come up with a little surprise fastly; you wrapped a red ribbon that was in the cupboard with needles and scissors around an unopened box of nut cookies. You also managed to find a piece of paper and a black pen, so you wrote a concise but sincere wishes to the inspector, which ended with a tiny heart and a star. Out of the corner of your eye, you also noticed the mistletoe lying next to the clock, which was a little joke your dear friend had made to you two days ago. So you took everything and went back to the quietly sitting Juuzou, smiling slightly at him, even a bit silly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think about gifts before, but... I hope that’s enough. After today’s work, we can go to the gallery or the park to see the decorated Christmas trees, you will surely like them. Happy Holidays, Juuzou. I hope next year will be a good one for you.” You said shyly as you handed him ribbon-decorated cookies. At the sight of them, the boy only blushed, then looked at your other hand, which was still gripping a little twig. “Ohh... it’s... such a small tradition where you get a kiss under the mistletoe.” You picked up the plant and then placed it over the white-haired young man’s head, bending down after a while and giving him a short peck on the left, smooth cheek. “Merry Christmas once again.”

“Merry Christmas to you too and... thank you for that.”

You only smirked, reaching for the mug of already cool drink. However, you weren’t disappointed in drinking the cold cocoa, because the honest, slightly timid smile of the boy you liked from the beginning of your work at CCG warmed your whole body better than any other hot chocolate, tea or coffee.

#— 🍁 #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru scenarios #gojo satoru x reader #saiki k no psi nan #saiki k no psi nan scenarios #saiki k no psi nan imagines #saiki k no psi nan x reader #saiko metori #saiko metori imagines #saiko metori scenarios #saiko metori x reader #tokyo ghoul #tokyo ghoul scenarios #tokyo ghoul imagines #tokyo ghoul x reader #juuzou suzuya #juuzou suzuya imagines #juuzou suzuya scenarios #juuzou suzuya x reader

[shirophantomvox]

Hold My Hand- Illumi x Reader

OMG thank you! My first international fan! Thank you for this wonderful prompt! This was requested by @illucilfer .

Summary: Today’s story takes place in a 1950s diner by a frequently used Interstate; Interstate 95. We know this dinner for its delicious hamburgers, hot dogs, milkshakes, and jukebox records, but every night one Patreon never returns home. A few men who were angry about your recent arrest have shot you both. As you both stare at each other exchanging mental signals, everyone around you tries to help you to the hospital. Y/N is narrating the story. I seem to have fewer grammar errors that way. FYI, Bold and italicized font will reference a thought or flashback.

Story Navigation

Let’s get started!

The leaves have turned bright yellow and orange, fluttering every second to the ground. I could hear little children a while away laughing and playing in the community park; throwing up the leaves, jumping into piles, and throwing them at each other. The smell of freshly baked donuts brightened everyone’s mood. All you had to do was take one bite and your face would brighten and crack a smile. Dining at Cupid’s Kitchen will always have your heart and interest.

Interstate 95 was always heavy with traffic during this time of year. The folks of Dallas celebrated mulch annually. The “Mulch Fest” was a street fair that stretched 1.5 miles to the east that contained music, drinks, farmer panels, homemaker Q&A, and other activities that southerners enjoy. Illumi and I are only here because of an unfinished assignment. We have worked night and day for countless days trying to catch Jack “Da Hamor” Gilberton, but he was nowhere to be found. Eventually, I allowed my anger to get the best of me and made the executive decision to take a day off. I barred Illumi from searching, tracking, or any form of hunting for our target. The life of a bounty hunter and an assassin can thrill, but it can drive you insane if you allow it.

Ironically, Illumi and I both enjoy fall. It is perfect for cuddling (although he acts as if he’s too good to cuddle), wearing creative hoodies, going to pumpkin patches, and attending apple orchids. I tend to “lose my cool” when we have dates there. When I was a child, my family did not go on trips like these because they were over an hour away from our home and I had 5 siblings. But once I made money for myself, I made it my mission to go to one at least 5 times out of the year. Illumi enjoys the different fudge, hot cider, and candy apples. He almost broke a tooth on one!

“Say cheese snag-a’-tooth!”

“Stop it. It’s not funny!”

“It is! Could you imagine if you lost your two front teeth? You’d look almost adorable as you did in the 1st grade!”

“How did you know about that?”

“Duh! It happens to everyone, but your mother showed me the pictures, of course.”

“Curses!”

Illumi’s sweet tooth is just like Killua’s; both have a weakness for chocolate. Except, Killua will admit defeat while his older brother keeps denying it.

Cupid’s Dinner has been in Dallas for over 55 years. A black woman established it in 1945 by the name of Mary-Lou Benson. Since then, Mary’s family has been running the shop, making sure all of her customers are happy with the service. During the turn of each season, Cupid’s Dinner gives its customer's food options based on the season. The fall options include donuts, candy apples, different flavored cider, fudge, and hot coffee specials. As much as everything looked appetizing, I could not order it all. Our server, Little Ben, placed our drinks in front of us and handed us the menu. I could tell he was happy with his line of work, just as I was to be with Illumi.

“You all take your time. I’ll be back in five.”

Ilumi glanced on both sides of the room, scanning for Jack Gilberton, already forgetting the agreement we established.

“Illumi, what are you doing?”

“Huh?”

“You keep looking around like you’ve seen Da Hamor. Eat your donut and relax, sweetheart.”

“I cannot relax. I must stay on alert.”

“If I can relax, so can you. It’s not that hard.”

“Fine. If I die, it’s on your head… literally.”

The jingling bell rang almost every second when a customer walked in. It was a joy to everyone's ears; the spirit of Mary Lou-Benson was alive and well. An overwhelming feeling of love seemed to have overtaken the diner. After examining the bistro for quite some time now, each customer had been using their cellphones at the table instead of chatting with their families. Many traditional families hated that about this generation but they should be open to new traditions forming. Illumi dislikes using cell phones or tablets at the table unless we use them for missions. He has emphasized how rude it is to be surfing the web about utter nonsense while someone is speaking. This is a pet peeve of his, something I’ll never step on his toe about. Although I think that is overdoing it, I respect it.

Little Ben served our table quickly, leaving us with two dishes of a classic chicken sandwich, kettle chips, one chocolate, and vanilla milkshake. Milkshakes were my weakness; I nearly foam at the mouth when I see one. When I found out that Illumi had NEVER had a milkshake, I almost fainted.

“No. I’ve never had a milkshake.”

“Huh? You’re missing out, pal.”

“What’s the big deal? Isn’t it frozen milk?”

“Not just frozen milk. You can add many flavors, toppings, and whip cream!”

“Well, then. You’ll have to show me sometime.”

We thanked Little Ben for his service as he clocked out for the day.

“I have to admit these sandwiches look very appetizing.”

“You can say that again!”

Before I nibbled on my sandwich, I wanted to take a moment and adore the man before me; Illumi Zoldyck. A man full of mysteries, professionalism, skill, and talent. His enormous eyes were immersed in the large pieces of chicken in between the sourdough bread. He licked his index finger vigorously; allowing the homemade honey mustard to drip enough from the bread to the plate in between licks. Just the sight of him actually relaxing for once has blown me away. For once, Illumi Zoldyck could be himself and I had the privilege to witness it.

“Um… why are you staring at me? Do I have food on my face,” he asked; violently wiping his mouth off with a provided cloth napkin.

“Oh! Ha, ha; no reason. I wanted to see your reaction after drinking your milkshake. That’s all.”

“Why? It’s just a drink.”

“Whatever you say, babe.”

“Babe? What happened to LuLu or Illumi-Lu?”

I gasped and pretended to be surprised… although I was a little.

“I did not know that you liked those pet names. I assumed it mortified you.”

“Who told you that? That never rolled off my tongue. “What I said was” — He bent closer to the table and to me; glancing both to the right and left to ensure no wandering ears were around — “I prefer Illumi-Lu to be said in the bedroom and LuLu when we’re alone, like how we are right now.”

“Aww…. ok,” I yelled in excitement.

“Don’t blow it out of proportion, alright?”

“Yes, sir.”

As we ate, Illumi hummed along to the tune that played a few times on the restaurant's jukebox. Illumi and I were born in the mid-90s, but listening to 50s music was a part of his aesthetic. I was told that he had an “old soul” which sounds romantic at first until you realize how men were during that era. His raging temper was a noticeable toxic trait, but it has drastically improved. Nonchalantly sipping on his milkshake and then eating more of his chips, he grazed the soft part of his left hand over mine as he continued to hum.

“What’s the name of this song? You seem to know it rather well.”

“Put your head on my shoulder, a famous song from the 60s. I heard my parents sing it once and since then, they have addicted me to it. Do you like it?”

“Yes, in fact, I love it. All of this is—”

“A surprise to you? Well, enjoy it while it lasts because once I find Jack Gilberton, this side of me will hide for a while.”

“Understood.”

Damn! I was just feeling connected to him again!

The music swelled; everyone seemed to be happy. Not an evil spirit insight to disrupt this beautiful moment. For once in my life, my raven-haired beauty actually held my hand tight, stole a few of my barbecue kettle chips, and gazed into my eyes harmlessly. His lips brushed against both of my hands, ever so lightly placing kisses on both sides of them. Illumi’s gentle smile warmed my heart as my lingering thoughts of hope stayed intact.

The welcoming bell jingled again. Two men in black leather jackets, stone-washed blue jeans, and tattooed all over their arms came into the diner. The men seemed to be bikers who had just left their own “spot” but one thing struck me as they continued to walk towards the staff. They both wore sunglasses when the sunset for the day. Not to mention that the lights were not dim in the diner and the moon was as bright as ever. The second man had his eyes glued in my direction. My heart beat faster as I wondered if Jack Gilberton had found us. Could you imagine?

Put your head on my shoulder

Hold me in your arms, baby

Squeeze me oh-so-tight

Show me you love me too

I am used to coming in contact with enemies on my hit list, but given Jack’s criminal history; I felt like I may not survive his attacks. Illumi will survive, but just barely. Both men approached the checkout, crowing over Little Ben’s sister. She was a short woman but full of might, and I could tell by the shakiness in her voice she was frightened. I wanted to step in so badly, but I didn't want to blow my cover just in case it was, in fact, Jack Gilberton. After I assume, ordering food, both men stood by the entrance, blocking it from others from entering and leaving. The sound of their old, beat up-lighters crackled as one lit a joint and the other lit a cigarette. This horrid smell ruined the atmosphere because they were not in a designated area and it drowned out the lovely aroma of the food being served.

“If you gentlemen would like to smoke, you need to go outside. There is no smoking in here.”

“What? You think you’re better than me because you don’t smoke?”

“Huh? I never said that, sir. I asked for you to go outside. Not all of our customers can deal with it.”

They did not move a muscle. The sound of their mucous laughter made everyone’s stomach turn. They laughed at the young girl and called her many slurs. Little Ben’s sister didn’t flinch, nor did she cry; she remained still, staring at the men. I had just enough of their obnoxious behavior.

“If you do not leave, I will call the police.”

“The hell you won’t.”

Put your lips next to mine, dear

Won't you kiss me once, baby?

He drew a gun from his left side. He aimed it at Little Ben’s sister and demanded that she emptied the drawer. She refused. Her stone, iron will reminded me of Illumi; no matter the circumstance, they remained intact, determined to fight until the end. Bravery is always encouraged, but too much will cause your life to be taken away. Little Ben’s sister grabbed a fake till that they kept under the real one and threw it at both men. Fake money fluttered everywhere in the small diner, mimicking confetti. Gunshots rang in all directions as the imbeciles recklessly shot, aiming for Little Ben’s sister. Everyone threw themselves on the ground to avoid being shot, but luck cannot spread itself throughout an entire room of people. A young child, an older man, and another worker were shot in their lower leg. Blood reflected from the ground as it continued to seep. Ignoring injured civilians is a jackass move and continuing to deny the fact would prove that the oath I pledge to meant nothing. Sure, bounty hunters must remain hidden, but if someone is injured, I must help them.

The child was lying lifeless on the polished marble floor. He would not respond to my shaking or my silent whispers. When I rolled him over, my heart broke into a million pieces. This child had no chance of survival; a few bullets struck his chest, one just inches away from his heart. A tear rolled down my cheek.

“Why must the good die young,” I whispered to myself.

“... Because snitches get stitches.”

Before I could gain sight of who stated this utterly corny response, I felt an overwhelming amount of pain in my lower back. It felt like a million tiny needles were jabbed so far through my skin that they entered my intestine. I could still hear, but my body would not move. I tried and tried, but my brain would not signal my legs.

Move! Move, damn it!

It’s odd; I could hear myself talk, but my body would not move at all. The sound of another thudding body made my mind jump. My heart had already been pounding enough to try to resuscitate my organs to move, but a familiar semi-blurring sight of none other than Mr. Illumi Zoldyck cleared my sight. My brain went wild. I didn’t know if Illumi died or if he became paralyzed, but one thing is for sure. We finally made eye contact that felt special; something I hadn’t felt since the day I met him. Our contact felt like magnets; an unbreakable bond. Suddenly, my icy hand felt warmth around my palm and fingers. Illumi simultaneously fell in a way that connected our hands. Our unbreakable bond, the warmth of his fingers laying on top of mine, and the gaze we shared somehow made me feel like it was just the two of us alone. I could hear his thoughts loud and clear; thoughts that came from the heart.

“Please help me. Before it’s too late, LuLu,” I cried, thinking I was going insane. “I don’t want to leave if it means leaving you behind.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Not without you.”

“Please! I want to live a life. Life as a bounty hunter, build a support system to our children, and a good lover is all I want to be.”

“You are a warrior and so am I. We have been through worse. This is nothing.”

Mere eye contact is all we need to exchange wandering conversations. The bond that we’ve created is something so strong that I haven’t realized it until now. The warmth emitted from his loose grasp seems to lose its effectiveness. It blurred my vision beyond recognition, leaving Illumi as a near figment of my imagination.

“Oh no. I guess this is it.”

My vision darkened. Illumi was slipping away as my lingering thoughts almost made my heart give out from exhaustion. I was ready to accept my fate, but it seemed like fate had other plans. My vision was still darkening by the second, but my sense of touch remained there. Smooth fingers outline my arms, torso, and chest. I heard muffled voices yelling and screaming about calling for assistance, but I didn’t care if they came or not. I made peace with my life’s end. Bit by bit, my breathing slowed down, but my sense of touch remained heightened. I felt a rubber glove touch my face and neck, examining it for any damage.

The jukebox continued to play Illumi’s favorite song, Put Your Head on my Shoulder. I remembered the day I laid my head on his shoulder; boy, what an endearing moment that was. It was something I took for granted, something I should have savored, for I never knew that this moment would have happened. The song grew muffled by the second verse. That verse repeated every time I tried to force myself to take what felt like my last gaze at my raven-haired beauty.

Just a kiss goodnight, maybe

You and I will fall in love (you and I will fall in love)

-FIN.

A/N: Since you’ve made it to the end, I’ll say something. The reader did not die in the end. They were later revived at the hospital.

#hunter x huner headcanons #hunter x 1999 #hunter x hunter #hunter x meme #hunter x reader #hunter x 2011 #illumi x reader #illumi x y/n #illumi zoldyck #hunter x hunter x illumi #illumi hcs #illumi hunter x hunter #illumi headcanons #illumi #illumi fluff #illumi angst #hxh chrollo #hxh hisoka #hxh #shiro phantom vox creates #100 followers event #100 followers #100 days of productivity #writing #writers on tumblr #send me an ask #requests closed for this event

[haworthiaace]

Magic misfits! Did I update the masterpost specifically because of this fic? yes absolutely. A busy day for Scar, featuring TFC and some good ol’ Scar appreciation :]

The start of a new season was always interesting.

While TFC didn’t enjoy having to start from scratch every year or so; having gotten used to the comforts of late season riches, he did love the sheer amount of interaction that came with a new season. TFC was content to hear gossip about the others’ shenanigans while he stuck to what he was best at: mining. Some of the others called it cheating to use his earthbending down in the tunnels, but he called it cheating to be able to shapeshift, or use magic crystals, or any of the other crazy things the other hermits could do, so it evened out.

When he wasn’t down in his mine, TFC watched as all the other hermits scrambled to make the most impressive buildings and contraptions in as little time as possible. Many of his servermates placed more importance on finishing their creations than actually gathering necessities such as tools and armour. 

As if to prove this observation, the Boatem village appeared on the other side of the nether portal, populated with structures that were much too large considering it had only been three weeks since they arrived in this world. There was also a… tree? At least that’s what it looked like; a thin oak tree stretching up past the clouds and out of view. Looks like Mumbo and Grian were up to no good already.

“TFC! Up here!” Scar’s voice came from somewhere above TFC’s head, and he looked up to see the wizard (although he no longer wore his robe and hat) standing on a balcony extending from a truly massive wagon, one hand on the railing and the other extended above his head, waving enthusiastically at TFC.

He climbed the ladder up the side of the wagon, entering a sparse storage room. Knowing Scar, he either hadn’t bothered to move in yet or lost all of his things in a cave somewhere. Despite his powerful crystal magic, Scar still managed to die more than any other hermit, so the second option was more likely.

“Well hello there! Welcome to my humble abode, please take a seat.” Scar led TFC to a balcony, where he gestured towards a table and two folding chairs. Scar sat down, crossing his legs and folding his arms in his lap. “So, what brings you to our little village today?”

TFC raised an eyebrow at the question, confusion evident in his voice. “Because you invited me? We were supposed to have tea today.” 

Scar jolted in his seat, then proceeded to scramble out of said seat. “I’ll be right back! I have to go… feed Jellie!” This was quite obviously a lie seeing as Jellie hadn’t returned from her between seasons interdimensional travels yet. TFC’s laughter chased Scar into the wagon, where he frantically prepared the tea that he was totally planning on making because he definitely remembered his plans for the day. 

After about five minutes of mildly concerning crashing sounds, Scar returned with two steaming mugs of tea (decorated with cat faces, of course) and a plate of chocolate chip cookies - Stress’ recipe if TFC wasn’t mistaken. They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, appreciating the tea and cookies. 

“So, how are you holding up this season, Scar?” TFC took a sip of green tea, looking out at the horizon.

“Oh you know, the usual. I don’t have my village anymore, but the magical misfits still come seeking my help.” He brought a cookie to his mouth and bit off half of it. “Not that I mind helping people!” He swallowed his mouthful before continuing. “XB was here last week convinced that he left his coat in season seven, but turns out it just ended up in one of Joe’s boxes.” He chuckled to himself, wiping crumbs off of his jacket as TFC stared at the distant ocean, lost in thought.

TFC broke the silence that had fallen. “You’re a good man, y’know that?” The wizard in question looked at TFC in surprise. He was used to ‘thank you’s, but the personal compliment caught him off guard. “You’ve created a safe space for folks from all sorts of places, and you’ve saved quite a few of them from bad people.” 

Scar looked down, smiling at his cup of tea. He spoke quietly, a departure from his usual boisterousness. “Thanks TFC, that means a lot.”

-

Scar was in the middle of catching TFC up on what he missed from day one when something red and very fast crashed into the balcony. The something in question turned out to be Grian, shimmering wings protruding from his back. Something must have been wrong, since winged hermits tended to refrain from flying early in the season, in the name of fairness.

“Scar we need your- Oh heeey, I didn’t know you had company over!” He leaned on the railing, his urgency replaced with a forced cheerfulness as he (quite obviously) pretended nothing was wrong. What was probably supposed to be an easygoing smile stretched too wide, and his voice was more high pitched than usual. “How’s it goin’?”

Scar, completely oblivious, responded excitedly. “Oh, I was just telling TFC here about our adventure in the geode with Cleo!”

Grian’s uncomfortable smile grew wider, and his eyebrows furrowed. “That sounds great, do you think you’ll be done anytime soon?”

“Oh well, I’m not too sure. It depends on when we finish all of these cookies.”

“Oh that’s just wonderful,” Grian’s wings started to twitch behind him, “did you make those yourself?”

Scar took a breath, preparing for a tangent when TFC cut in, showing the poor fairy some mercy. “Alright Grian, out with it. What’s wrong?” Scar stared at Grian, somehow surprised that this wasn’t a completely ordinary visit.

Grian let out a long sigh. “Thank you so much TFC.” He turned his gaze to Scar. “We need a little help with curse breaking.”

Scar set down his mug and gave Grian his full attention, preparing himself for whatever strange curse one of the fairies had set on some poor hermit. “Really? How are you two cursing people already? It hasn’t even been a month!”

Grian’s tangent was accompanied by wild hand gestures that made it difficult to follow what he was saying. “Well, Pearl came up behind Mumbo and spooked him, he shouted something about not sneaking up on him, and now whenever he turns his back on her she teleports directly in front of him.” Grian looked nervously over his shoulder in the direction of Mumbo’s van. TFC followed his gaze, and burst into laughter again.

Mumbo was standing a few feet away from his campfire, spinning in circles and doubling over in laughter as Pearl kept popping up in front of him. 

Scar pushed himself up from his chair, TFC followed suit. The pair headed to the door while Grian flew back down, Scar giving TFC a sort of briefing. “Alright, let’s go figure out what exactly Mumbo did before Pearl starts feeling particularly vengeful.”

-

It took two hours and a lot of trial and error (with TFC giving supremely unhelpful tips), but eventually Pearl could stand behind Mumbo again. At some point Scar accidentally applied the effect to both Grian and Mumbo, and he had to beg the two not to create a space time anomaly. But it was all fixed now, and TFC was sure Pearl’s revenge would be swift and cruel.

Scar made his way back up to the balcony, and the two continued their conversation. It was a good thing Scar had enchanted his mugs, something he had done back in season seven after his drinks kept getting abandoned and going cold.

After a few hours of peace (other than both Mumbo and Grian’s bases abruptly flipping upside down while the boys were inside), the pair was interrupted again by a voice behind them.

“Howdy, Scar. Oh, and howdy to you as well, TFC!”

Neither of them had heard Joe coming, so Scar jumped about a foot in the air while TFC nearly spat out his tea. It turned out that Cleo was there as well, looking quite a bit angrier than Joe, although that wasn’t too uncommon.

“Oh my goodness, Joe you scared the life out of me!” Scar held a hand to his chest and caught his breath as Cleo got right to business.

“Sorry about that Scar,” her voice was flat, and it was safe to assume that she was not, in fact, sorry about that. “But we have an emergency. It’s completely Joe’s fault, he-”

Joe smoothly stepped in front of his companion as he cut her off, “I wouldn’t say it’s entirely my fault, old magic is a fickle thing-”

Cleo shoved Joe aside, stepping in front once again. “He revived my leg!” She raised a foot off the ground and gestured at it with both hands.

Sure enough, both TFC and Scar looked down to see that Cleo’s right leg was significantly more flesh-coloured than the left, restored to what it presumably once was. 

Scar’s lingering panic was instantly replaced by an amused grin as he gestured to the leg in question. “Cleo, why don’t you just get your leg reinfected? It’s not like zombies are hard to come by.”

The pair stood still, just blinking. (Completely in sync, it was eerie) 

Cleo rounded on Joe and punched at his shoulder just as he raised a hand to deflect her fist. “How did you not think of that Joe?! I thought you knew everything there was to know about-” She gestured wildly about for a moment. “Everything?!”

“Shouldn’t you be some sort of zombie expert by now? How is that my responsibility?” The argument continued as the pair went back into the wagon and down the ladder. As they walked off, presumably to go find a cave, something occurred to TFC. He cupped his hands around his mouth to yell down at them.

“Cleo!” She turned around. “Don’t use Joe as bait!” 

She snapped her finger like a defeated cartoon villain, as Joe turned to face her and presumably gave her grief for this evil plot.

-

It was only about five minutes after Cleo and Joe left (preceded by twenty minutes of arguing) that the next problem arrived, as it often did, in the form of Zedaph, Impulse, and Tango arriving on the shore of the village. TFC found this odd, seeing as how everyone was now connected by nether portals, but he assumed there would be an explanation shortly, even if it didn’t make a lick of sense.

Impulse shouted up from the ground, the three of them clustered near the front of the wagon. “TFC, we need your help!” Well that was a surprise, not many people asked for his assistance other than Scar. “We made an oopsie and Cleo said we could find you here!”

As every hermit knew, ‘oopsie’ was a versatile word with these three. It could mean anything between making a minor mistake in a build to banishing Impulse for the fifth time. “What happened this time?” TFC stood up and made his way down the ladder, since shouting down at them wasn’t very efficient and they didn’t seem inclined to come up.

Impulse started twisting his hands together while Zedaph and Tango tried their best to look innocent behind him. It didn’t work. “Weeell, Tango wanted a terraforming job done around his base, so we made a little deal for it.” 

Oh boy. Not much good came out of magical deals, yet the other hermits continued to make them with each other. Demonic deals were especially tricky since the demon didn’t have precise control over their end of the deal, not that it stopped these three. “Tango offered me his first beacon in exchange for the job, and it turns out that a beacon is worth a lot more than I thought- it’s probably easier if we show you.”

“Quick FYI guys: firsts are very valuable in deals! It applies to you as well Impulse, not just the fae!” Scar called helpfully from his still seated position on the balcony.

-

They all ended up going over to Tango’s house/ shop, which was literally buried in a mound of dirt and stone, along with about three quarters of Bdubs’ giant moon house. That explains why they didn’t use the nether. 

The earth was offended after being touched by demonic magic, but after a long negotiation TFC managed to convince it that Impulse meant no harm, and it was happy to return to its prior state. Tango was mildly annoyed that he would have to do the terraforming himself and give Impulse a beacon, but it was better than the wrath he would have faced from Bdubs.

By the time TFC and Scar returned to the Boatem village, the sun was starting to dip below the horizon. While TFC admired the beauty of it, Scar just looked disappointed. 

“I’m sorry.”

TFC raised an eyebrow at the wizard, a frown making its way onto his face. “What do you mean you’re sorry? Did you do something to the tea?” 

Despite TFC’s attempted joke, Scar still stared at his perfectly polished shoes. “This was supposed to be a nice relaxing day to catch up, and people were just showing up left and right. I mean, we hardly got to spend any time together! Maybe I shouldn’t invite people over with all this wizard stuff going on.”

“But we did spend time together.” TFC’s rough hand landed on Scar’s shoulder, the latter looking up at the former, startled by the contact.

“Well yeah we had tea for a while but-”

TFC had to cut off Scar’s rambling or he would never get to his point. “Yes we had tea, but I’m talking about the rest of the day.” Scar seemed genuinely confused at this. “I helped you un-curse Pearl,” he did air quotes on the word ‘helped,’ “We watched Joe and Cleo argue together, and you came with us to fix Tango’s house.” Of course he didn’t do much other than laugh at Tango’s misfortune, but it was the thought that counted. “Just ‘cause it didn’t go to plan doesn’t mean I didn’t have a good time.” After all, not much went according to plan on the hermitcraft server.

Now Scar was smiling. “So I didn’t ruin the day with magical misfits?”

“Not at all.” TFC reached for his mug and emptied it one last time, then stretched before heading out. “But now I gotta get going. I don’t like my chances against the mobs with my crappy iron gear.”

Scar waved once more as TFC disappeared into the nether portal. “Goodnight TFC! And thanks again, for everything!”

TFC smiled as he made his way through the nether tunnels back home. Scar did a lot more for the hermits than he realized, allowing them to be free with their magic in a way they couldn’t back home, TFC included. He’d created a home for all sorts of ‘magic misfits’ as Scar put it, and he performed an invaluable service, whether he realized it or not.

He’s a good kid. Just needs some reminding every once in a while. 

#hermitcraft #hermitcraft 8 #magic misfits au #tinfoilchef #goodtimeswithscar #grian #mumbo jumbo #pearlescentmoon #joe hills #zombiecleo #tangotek #impulsesv #zedaph #im not too confident on the Emotional bits but #practice makes perfect i suppose #theres a few things i implied here so feel free to ask and clear things up

[bamfdaddio]

X-Men Abridged: 1980 - The Dark Phoenix Saga

The X-Men, those enduring mutants that have sworn to protect a world that hates and fears them, are a cultural juggernaut with a long, tangled history. Want to unravel this tapestry? Then read the Abridged X-Men!

(X-Men 132 - 140, X-Men Annual 4) - by Chris Claremont and John Byrne, John Romita Jr. and Bob McLeod

Go on. Name a more iconic X-Men panel. I’ll wait. (X-Men 134)

If you were born in 1980, you were born under the sign of the Phoenix. This means you will have great hair, but you’ll also be absolutely corrupted by power. Don’t worry, as long as you don’t consume any stars and/or galaxies, you should be fine.

This year hits the ground running, introducing Emma Frost, Kitty Pryde and Dazzler in one fell swoop. The White Queen is the first of the Hellfire Club to make her move, but Phoenix is quickly able to dispatch of her, as you can read here.

Cyclops, worried that the rest of the Inner Circle will soon come in for the kill, decides to abscond to Angel’s Aerie in New Mexico to throw their pursuers off their scent. Jean decides to make the most of it and has sex with Scott on top of mesa. (Kinky!) She also shuts off his uncontrollable destructo-beams, nbd. This somehow inspires Scott to go from reactive to proactive and lead an ill-advised charge straight into the Hellfire Club on the night of their big ball… soirée... thing. Call it a Hellfire Gala-avant-la-lettre.

Fine, he might have been inspired by the raw power of the Phoenix. She’s the biggest gun on their side and, if there's one thing you can be sure of, it´s that reliable powerhouse Jean won´t switch sides in the middle of battle.

Oh wait, that's exactly what she does.

As soon as they enter the Hellfire Club, Jason Wyngarde, who reveals he’s actually Mastermind, takes control of Jean, finally turning her into the Black Queen. With the power of the Phoenix and the patriarchy on their side, the Inner Circle makes short work of the X-Men. They consists of:

Jason Wyngarde, aka Mastermind.

Sebastian Shaw. Often shirtless. The Jeff Bezos of mutantkind. Has the ability to absorb kinetic energy, which means punching him only makes him stronger. (Colossus and Storm figure this out the hard way.)

Harry Leland. Ability of mass manipulation, which has got to be one of the dopest powers ever. Uses it to dunk Wolverine three floors down into the sewer.

Donald Pierce. 25% robot, 100% asshole, 100% useless in taking out X-Men, 225% the worst.

Wolverine is the only one who escapes, resulting in another iconic image:

Apparently, this picture is solely responsible for the fact that Wolverine became the face of the X-Men in the zeroes. It also lit my cigar from the other side of the room. (X-Men 132)

Needless to say, stabbing ensues.

Meanwhile, Shaw pontificates what he wants with the X-Men. He means to use them as guinea pigs to isolate the X-Gene, which he’ll then reverse engineer to give everyone (with money) super powers and all of a sudden, I want Shaw to do a team-up with John Sublime. Jean is not all there, however: she’s trapped in the astral plane, cultivating a cruel streak a mile high.

And suddenly, Jean-turning-evil is not all that funny anymore. (X-Men 133)

Cyclops traverses the mental link he shares with Jean to confront ‘Sir Jason’ and challenge him to a duel. Guy can’t catch a break: in Jean’s mindscape, he is stabbed and he promptly collapses in the real world. Ruh-roh!

Wolverine, meanwhile, has done a passable impression of the Bride against the Crazy 88 in Kill Bill, and he interrupts the Hellfire Club and their gloating. That’s when Jean resurfaces as well, snapping out of her voluptuous Victorian fantasy and, playing a dubious tango with everyone’s trust issues, switching sides once again. The Phoenix is like the golden snitch: as long as your team holds it, it’s enough to win.

Colossus snaps Pierce’s robo-arm, Shaw gets punted through a floor and Leland uses his powers to increase Wolverine’s mass - just when Logan is jumping on top of him. Oops! Should have made him lighter than a feather, Leland.

Jean, meanwhile, is doing her own passable impression of the Bride and goes on what the advertisements would refer to as a ‘Roaring Rampage of Revenge’. (Oh, she roars, and she rampages, and she gets bloody satisfaction.)

This is what happens when you fuck around and find out, Jason. (X-Men 134)

Phoenix makes Mastermind’s mind touch the infinite. His tiny human mind can’t cope. And, just like me when I’m at Pride and surrounded by a bevvy of shirtless gym bunnies, he becomes a dribbling mess. A shell with nothing inside. For those of you paying attention: this is where your Lit teacher would shout “dramatic irony” and underscore Emma Frost vs. Storm on the chalkboard.

This is also the moment where she officially Breaks Bad.

We see powerless people become heroes all the time. The reverse, where the angel falls? That happens far more rarely. I think that is the reason this story was so shockingly effective in the eighties. The reason why it’s still so effective? I think because, like the One Ring, you can read the rise and fall of the Phoenix in a myriad of ways. Is this a victim, reclaiming power? Is this a woman, trying to rise in a man’s world? Is this someone who was always buttoned up, daring to embrace her own power, her sexuality, her dangerous side -- only to get promptly beat down? The ambiguity of the narrative gives it strength, which is why I think it keeps resonating even now. This counts especially in the X-Universe, inherently designed to appeal to the underdog.

Anyway, the X-Men try to flee, but it’s too late. Jean can’t hold it in any more. She explodes in Phoenixesness and vaporizes the X-Men’s aircraft over Central Park. Relishing in her power, Jean easily defeats her friends, before flying off into the galaxy.

In the Avengers mansion, Beast gets the report that the X-Men are trashing the Hellfire Club. Ignoring his duties as an Avenger, Beast chooses his old family and hops off to investigate on his own.

The report, by the way, comes from Shaw, who knows when to turn tail and cut his losses. Among the confused, scared refugees of their party, he begins working a politician on the importance of a Sentinel program. That politician? Senator Kelly. Remember that name.

Jean can’t talk, she’s doing hot girl things. Nomnomnom that star system, sis. (X-Men 135)

Originally, Jean wasn’t meant to die. This one panel, the one showing the inhabited planet, is the reason why she eventually does: Jim Shooter, editor-in-chief, felt Jean shouldn’t be able to get away with a literal genocide. Claremont and Byrne, who had planned to strip Jean of her powers at the end of this, had to change the end of their story within days before it went to print. Additionally, this stoked the adversarial fire between the two: Claremont claims that he hadn’t originally intended there to be an inhabited planet, but felt his hands were tied when Byrne drew one. I wonder how true this is, considering how embedded it is in the narrative, but that’s neither here nor there.

The Phoenix’s genocide alerts the Shi’Ar - and therefore Lilandra - to her presence. Lily says that Galactus is nothing compared to the Phoenix: he merely eats planets, she will consume all that exists.

A hungry Jean, meanwhile returns to Earth, not sure what she’s looking for. She pays a visit to the home of her parents, but when they warily come to greet her, she can’t help but read all the innermost thoughts of her family. Nothing is secret, nothing is sacred. (Imagine knowing all those little thoughts your parents had about you, all those little terrible human things they did in their life. Imagine knowing all their sexual fantasies. Brrr.) It sours the Phoenix against them and she is about to start familicide to her list of sins, when the X-Men attack!

Nightcrawler slaps a psionic scrambler designed by Beast on her, but she’s still too strong. Wolverine tries to end her, but he isn’t ruthless enough to do the deed. When the scrambler overloads, Scott tries reasoning with her, appealing to her love. This causes the Phoenix to waver and Charles Xavier (airdropped in by Warren), bolts Jean telepathically.

Drinking game rule for the Phoenix saga no 6: shout “ca-caw” and take a sip every time the raptor appears. (X-Men 136)

Xavier feels Jean helping him out from within the Phoenix and together, they slowly trap Phoenix in the same sort of energy-matrix as Jean did with the M’Kraan-crystal. The Phoenix finally lays dormant, the X-Men have Jean back and Scott, overwhelmed by emotion, sort of awkwardly proposes to her. Happy Ending! And then, pulling the rug out from under our feet, the X-Men (including Beast and Angel) are whisked away.

They appear in front of Lilandra. The Shi’Ar hold Jean accountable for her planet-killing ways and Lilandra orders her Imperial Guard to take her away! But Charles invokes an ancient law with the same relish of someone who invokes an obscure board game rule against the person who is about to win: he demands a trial by combat.

The rules are easy:

X-Men win: Jean lives

Shi’Ar win: Jean dies.

The trial will be on the dark side of the moon. The Shi’ar are way too strong and, one by one, the X-Men fall, until only Jean and Scott are left. In their last stand, Jean loses control and becomes the Phoenix again, wiping the floor with the Imperial Guard. Technically, they win, but she knows now.

Suicide by abandoned-machine-of-a-long-forgotten-civilization-on-the-dark-side-of-the-moon. (X-Men 137)

She dies. Phoenix dies. The X-Men lose. Scott, bereft, leaves the X-Men.

One detail I love is the holempathic crystal that Lilandra bestows on Jean’s parents.

Without becoming too maudlin, the idea of this is beautiful. A condensed image of a person you love, one you can touch when you feel memories slipping away so you can remember who they were. (X-Men 138)

And with that, season 2 of the X-Men ends. Without Cyclops and Phoenix, the X-Men have to readjust. While Beast returns to the Avengers, Angel takes up residence in the mansion again. He confesses to liking most of the new X-Men, except Wolverine. (To be fair, Wolverine is an acquired taste.) Kitty Pryde also formally starts attending the school and slowly, the Jean-and-Scott-shaped void is filled.

Patriarchal Charles is thrilled to finally have a new teenager in the house who will hang on to his every word. It’ll be like the sixties all over again! (X-Men 139)

There are so many beautiful touches in the few panels:

Wolverine calling Charles ‘Chuck’

Nightcrawler getting drinks (and a beer)

Most amazingly of all, Storm becoming the leader. (I give Chuck a lot of flak, but this decision is Right.) Not just because Storm is the best X-Man for the job, but also because she was a black woman leading one of premier Marvel superhero teams for, what? The better half of a decade? The eighties had barely started, so this was a big fucking deal.

Storm also takes up a motherly role for Kitty, who takes up her suggestion for a codename: Sprite. (This after Kitty rejects Charles’ suggestion of Ariel, which is only fortunate, considering that name would soon be associated with redhaired mermaids.)

The rest of the year is dedicated to two adventures, both of them starring Kurt. The first is depicted in the annual: on Kurt’s birthday, he receives a mysterious package with a mysterious figurine that mysteriously explodes in his face. Professor X calls guest star Dr. Strange for aid, who deduces that his soul has been stolen. What follows is a quest to regain Kurt’s soul in an adventure that feels a little too I just read Dante’s Inferno, check how smart I am.

Hell is a little too pedestrian and boring, though we do get a King Minos hitting on Kurt and Ororo. A man of wealth and taste indeed. Anyway, at the end of this side quest, it turns out all of this was a convoluted revenge scheme concocted by one Margali of the Winding Road. She turns out to be Kurt’s (adoptive) mother, who’s getting revenge for Kurt killing her son.

Kurt, racked with guilt, reveals he had no choice. Stefan had always feared the darkness in his soul and he’d made Kurt pledge to stop him if he should ever succumb to it. After Stefan killed a child or two, Kurt had no choice but to end him. Stefan perished and Kurt was blamed for all of the murders, having to flee an angry mob.

Margali forgives him, with some help from Jimaine, Kurt’s foster sister. In a twist that is a little too soap opera for my tastes (and I watch Riverdale), Jimaine turns out to be Kurt’s squeeze, Amanda Sefton. I’ve always disliked this twist, and not just because of the incesteous vibes: I like the idea of Kurt dating a regular lady who is into him despite his appearance and his being a mutant. Making Amanda Sefton his sorcerous half-sister dilutes that message a lot.

The tail end of 1980 involves Wolverine going to Canada so Wolverine can make amends with Alpha Flight. Kurt joins him, ostensibly to flirt with Aurora, but in fact this shows that Kurt and Wolverine are establishing a rapport. A deeper friendship.

In a pretty paint-by-numbers adventure, Wolverine, Nightcrawler and the worse half of Alpha Flight take down a Wendigo. We don’t get Northstar or Aurora, but we do get more Snowbird, who can change herself into Canadian animals, with the danger of being consumed by her animal side.

We get this delightful panel out of it:

Scared Nightcrawler almost makes me forget how full of shit Jimmy MacDonald is, considering last time Kurt saw them, they tried to kidnap the fuzzy elf. (X-Men 139)

This whole arc is meant to show the softening of Wolverine. Not only does he share his name with Kurt (well, sort of: “Logan, is that your name?” “Yup.” “You never told us.” “You never asked.”), but when they fight the Wendigo and Snowbird turns into a white wolverine to deal the final blow, he talks her out of being consumed by her vicious animal nature.

The year ends with two details worth mentioning:

The Canadian government dissolves Alpha Flight, which I can only find a prescient move that highlights their good taste. A realistic note I like is the minister referring to the mutant problem as ‘an American problem’ even though they employ the Beaubier twins. Wankers.

Fred Dukes escapes prison to join the New Brotherhood of Mutants!

We’re now entering a run of the X-Men which I haven’t read much of yet, but Freddy mentions he was helped by some lady lawyer. That’s gotta be Mystique, right?

I can barely contain my glee.

Ugliest Costume: Despite that godawful hooded thing Kitty wears, I have to give this to Dazzler. There’s no salvaging that costume: I’m sorry, but she’s wearing a disco ball around her neck. It's a boot from me.

Best new character: Emma Frost. Fight me by the bike rack near the parking lot if you disagree.

Turns evil: Jean Grey, famously so.

What to read: X-Men 129 to 137, the Dark Phoenix run.

#x-men #abridged x-men #x-men abridged #cyclops #phoenix #professor x #storm #nightcrawler #wolverine #colossus #beast #angel #dazzler #kitty pryde #emma frost #hellfire club #dark phoenix saga #chris claremont #john byrne #john romita jr. #bob mcleod #sebastian shaw #jason wyngarde #harry leland #donald pierce #lilandra neramani #shi'ar #alpha flight #snowbird

[eijie-cavies]

Wen Kexing and the great divide.

So as we all know Episode 32 and 33 has left us with a plethora of questions and the fans are divided in terms of their view on Wen Kexing's plan. Tbh that is to be expected if you look at it. It was an asshole move to hide everything from A-Xu and leave him to find his soulmate's dead body only to find holy shit this motherfucker is alive still what the hell. And so a lot of the fans sided with the argument that Wen Kexing never learned and was acting like a selfish lone wolf. But today i am here to try to analyze the plan between Scorpion king, Wen Kexing and Ye bai Ye.

Please keep in mind i haven't watched the entirety of the show yet and so some theories here might not fit in with the rest of Kexing's explanation for the next episode.

Also thid will contain spoilers so please be warned.

Alright let's start. I will be dividing this analysis into parts. 1st part is the show's script and budgeting and why they chose the route that the went with.

2nd part is my theories on the heroes conference and why it was rushed as well as the timeline.

And lastly Wen Kexing's POV and the analysis for his plan and why he did what he did keeping A-Xu in mind as well.

A few extra bonuses is the romeo and juliet plot and why i think it had to be in the plot somehow.

So lets start, sit down and grab a drink for this you will need it.

1st part.

Scriptwriting and budgeting.

This show was supposed to have 45 episode and so the plot would have had more time to marinate and kick in if it weren't for the shortening of the epsiode.

With this in mind the scriptwriter had originally planned for this 45 episode and sadly we won't probably know what was supposed to happen if it weren't cut to 36 episode. But we do have Wolong nuts to thank for giving the drama sponsorship and making the drama into 36 rather than 32. If we had only 32 episodes in this drama everything would have felt too rushed and fast paced. And so to have to cut 9 episodes worth of plot the screewriter was put in a tight spot on how to cram three different events. Namely the kidnapping, the exposing of Zhao Jing and of course the wedding plot as well.

Thus the Romeo and Juliet plot was born. We will be discussing this plot in depth later on in the analysis. Nonetheless if they have had all the freedom and budget it would have been nice to see a plot of Zhou Zishu, Wen Kexing and The Scorpion King all work together to bring Zhao Jing down. For now let us work on the plot given to us.

2.) Timeline.

The heroes conference is a huge deal, this is where EVERYONE of big sects and names gather in the martial arts world, its the equivalent of the whole world witnessing everything. This event is a big part of the plan that the three accomplices had, if they didn't act right away Wen Kexing and Xie'er (Scorpion King) wouldn't have had the chance to expose Zhao Jing in the future, because like what the beauty ghost relayed, once the heroes conference is over Zhao Jing planned on killing Xie'er and eradicating the ghost valley. There would have been no other time to take him down, no time to wait for another heroes conference as Zhao Jing would have risen in power already, they would have been too powerful to stop and the merits he would have gained by then would be multiplies, the people wouldnt see him as evil anymore. Therefore it was crucial to strike at the time where they are most vulnerable and the seed of doubt was still fresh, if they had waited, everyone would have disregarded Wen Kexing as a mad man and praised Zhao Jing for saving them from the purges of the ghost valley.

And scorpion king? Who would believe him if he was the only one to take a stand? His Godfather no doubt would have acted as if he didnt know what Scorpion was saying and act innocent. Even if he was spared Scorpion had no allies other than Wen Kexing who's allies was also born out of the same hatred they had for Zhao Jing. Everyone was forced to act swiftly, it was an all or none kind of situation. Now if we backtrack to the previous episodes, not two episode ago Zhou Zishu was heavily injured because of the kidnapping and was given no time to properly heal before everything needed to be set. As you can see in episode 31 Wen Kexing was in a hurry to meet Xie'er, don't you think it was iffy that he would leave A-Xu like that if he was still injured? The Wen Kexing that we all know would not have moved a single inch from Zhou Zishu's side if he were injured. And this is because of a lot of things which we will be getting to in the third part of the analysis.

Now on the subject of the plan and how Chengling had somehow gotten a hold of it. Simple, Ye bai Yi. He is free to roam around, sending messages and talking to people behind the scenes, we never really knew what he did after he left Wen kexing at four seasons manor and the reason why he had agreed on the rushed reopening of the heroes conference. but if you think about it it fits with the timeline. Zhao Jing wanted to reopen the heroes conference and Ye Bai Yi was sure that they were out to hunt down the chief of the ghost valley. If you remember the letter in episode 27 you will understand.

Why did they get that letter in the first place when the four seasons manor wasnt even fully restored yet? The martial arts world didnt even know that Zishu was on the road to reopening it and yet he got an invitation. This is Ye Bai Yi's first clue and a nudge for Wen Kexing to take action. This leads us to part 3. Wen Kexing's plan.

3. Wen Kexing's plan.

Now the question is why didn't Wen Kexing think to tell Zhou Zishu his plan? Simple. He is heavily injured. Now i was stuck here as well because i would have thought, why couldnt he just trust Zishu of his plan? BUT you all have forgotten this.

Wen Kexing has asked this two times, he wanted tell Chengling already so the kid could process it before he could stage his plan and possibly even tell Zhou Zishu on how he can use the heroes conference as an event where he can expose Zhao Jing. But Zhou Zishu was kidnapped, tortured and injured. There was no time to tell him of the plan without him having to stop Wen Kexing from doing it. At first i thought this didnt make sense, Wen should have trusted Zishu enough to carry on without distrubance right? Well a very nice person in Youtube provided some very interesting and eye opening points for me.

And they are right, if i were Wen kexing i wouldn't want to burden Zishu of having to wait around thinking where i went off to, why do you think he told A-Xiang to take care of Zishu and promised to go back in one piece?

A-Xiang was also kept in the dark of the plan, the only plan she knew was that Wen Kexing is planning to have an alliance with the scorpion king and thats it. He didnt fully disclose everything either.

Wen Kexing's plan was simple, after he was regarded as "Dead" he probably would have went home to tell Zhou Zishu he was completely fine and it was all a ruse to trap Zhao Jing. BUT the problem was that Zishu set out to find him, Bei Yuan and Da Wu couldn't stop him either as they had no time to explain everything without Zishu panicking. Like i said this was all too rushed of a plan for Zishu to comprehend specially when he needed to heal as fast as possible.

What they could only do is give Zishu a medicine to ensure that if he ever did take out the nails he would still be okay. And that was the downfall of Kexing's plan. He didnt expect Zishu to have escaped his friends watchful eyes and go to the siege, ever wonder why Kexing said this when Zishu arrived?

He was trying to convince Zishu to leave, make him believe that Wen Kexing is out for blood. But Zishu didn't fall for it, instead he stayed which was NOT a part of the plan at all. There was nothing Kexing could have done now, the siege was happening and he could only play along and move forward. And if you look closely again just as they were about to attack Kexing, Ye Ba Yi came to fight Kexing at the VERY right time, and who fought Zhou Zishu?

The three ghosts WuChang, his subordinate and Happy ghost. Why didn't anyone else go for Zishu? They could have had the scorpions attack him but they chose the Ghosts who are a part of Wen Kexing's valley, mind you these three ghosts were there when they rescued Zishu wouldn't it just sound stupid if they were fighting Zishu to kill him? No. What they tried to do is separate Zishu from Wen Kexing. Ye Bai ye could have eliminated Wen in 10 moves, he said this himself. But they had this complicated dance that somehow landed Wen Kexing at the edge of the cliff and left Chengling to do the rest.

And so he fell and Zishu followed. If you look closely even Ye Bai Yi was surprised that Zhishu jumped. NONE of it was part of the plan. From the moment Zishu entered to the moment he jumped no one planned for it.

And if you are upset of Zishu having to see Kexing's dead body and breaking his heart, this again was NOT A part of the plan. Beauty ghost was there to protect the corpse, if the corpse had not been burned it would have been presented to the martial art world and Kexing would come back as a different person and telling them "They got it wrong. That corpse is the chief of the ghost valley, i am Wen Kexing the disciple of four seasons manor" and it would have been more belieavable. But plans went south, Zishu found the corpse further solidfying that Kexing (in his mind) is dead and so he took out the nails. Ke xing couldn't show himself to stop Zishu either, there was so little time and he couldn't risk himself be seen.

Some others had been in the dark of the plan as well, not just Zishu, and the reason Wen Kexing didn't dare tell him was not because he didn't trust Zishu to stay away and let the plan carry out, instead he know EXACTLY what this will do to Zishu. Wen Kexing's plan was to HIDE Zishu away until the conference ended. Because with Da Wu and Bei Yuan, there would have been no news about Ke Xing dying that would have reached their place and Zishu would have had all the time to recover as Ke Xing took revenge and finally come back home as a new person.

He NEEDED Zishu to stay away from the fight to help himself heal just enough to get the nails out.

His revenge done and his new goal to be with Zishu for the rest of their lives. But unfortunate events happened, Zishu found out and there was other way to go but forward.

Ever wonder why Kexing had this look on his face on episode 33?

He wanted so bad to explain everything but the spotlight was on him and this was the only time he will be given the chance to take a stand. This is now between him and the Zhao Jing. Like everything there was nothing to do but move forward.

Now for bonus part.

Romeo and Juliet plot.

Romeo and Juliet plot is basically person A percieved as "Dead" and person B endagering their life to the brink of death only to find person A was alive and well but Person B is for real dying.

Now tbh i wasn't a big fan of the Romeo and Juliet plot, this was the reason why fans became so divided and saying Kexing didn't learn his lesson therefore lossing their faith in Kexing and Zishu's relationship. He was pervieved as childish and selfish, And tbh they would have had so many plot devices that they can use to maximize full on plotting and bringing down Zhao Jing. But going back to my first point of the budgeting im guessing the scriptwriter had struggled to cram it all in. It was already episode 33 and they still had two more plots to cram in (the wedding and curing Zishu) so im not as upset as much. In the end the whole staff gave their best and poured their heart and soul into the drama. On an ending note i'll just let this nice person do the talking for me

Thank you for reading! If you guys have your own theories feel free to discuss or voice them out.

#wenzhou #wen kexing #zhou zishu #word of honor #shan he ling #faraway wanderers #analysis