#and it completely confused my interpretation of the plot

[branloaf]

you know what, forget all the other reasons. can we get more diversity in media so i don't have to confuse myself trying to distinguish between five different white men that all look the same every time i watch something new.

[brookediamonds]

Could you write an Axel x reader fic. Reader is competing with Miyagi Do in the sekai taikai tournament and is a really smart and good fighter. She is kind of confused why Axel keeps checking her out though because she was a total nerd ( maybe an honorary binary brother? ) and has no game / never gets attention like that.

you're the glitter in the darkness of my world | Axel Kovačević x Fem!Reader

Summary: Back home, you were far from the dating pool. Boys never looked at you, nonetheless flirted with you. Axel is about to change that.

Word Count: 2.1k Warnings: None, sm fluff

gif is not mine

You're not used to this.

Boys don't look at you like that, not the way Axel just did.

You're used to being the third wheel to Eli and Demetri's binary banter, the nerdy girl with killer reflexes and a stash of Star Wars facts no one asked for.

You're the one who corrects Demetri’s math mid-spar and shouts "plot armor!" when Eli pulls off a move he absolutely should not have landed.

That's your role: funny, sharp, underestimated.

So when you're in Barcelona, running through another Miyagi-Do warm-up before the competition, and you catch Axel watching you.

Not just watching, lingering, making you almost trip over your own foot.

You try to ignore it. Tell yourself he's probably just sizing up the competition. The Iron Dragons are intense like that. But then it happens again.

His eyes flick to you during drills. He pauses when you laugh too hard at something Hawk says. And when you land a clean hit in a spar, you swear you hear him mutter something under his breath—low and admiring.

You're dumbfounded. No way.

You? The girl who wore a Legolas tee to team dinner and argued passionately about Batman's fighting stance over paella?

There has to be some mistake.

You're huddled on the hotel lobby couch with Eli and Demetri, a half-eaten bag of chips between you and a vintage-looking board game splayed out across the coffee table.

It's something Demetri brought from home, complete with confusing instructions, dice that have too many sides, and pieces shaped like tiny laser blasters.

"I swear to God, if you sabotage my alliance one more time—" Eli mutters, narrowing his eyes at you.

You just grin and casually slide another power token into your inventory. "Strategic decisions must be made, Eli. You knew the risks when you trusted a Level 6 Rogue Commander with a history of betrayal."

"Why are we friends with her again?" he groans turning to Demetri.

"Because I bring snacks," you grin, popping a chip into your mouth.

Your scrawny friend nods solemnly in agreement. "That’s fair."

You're trying to enjoy it, one last relaxing night before everything gets serious tomorrow, but your knee keeps bouncing and you’ve checked your tournament gear three times already.

The nerves are hitting harder than you expected.

"So," you spoke suddenly, your voice a little too quiet. "You guys wanna maybe stay up a little longer with me? Just like… hang? I'm kinda freaking out about tomorrow."

They both look at you, soft, sympathetic, but Hawk stretches with a yawn, rubbing at his eyes.

"Dude, I'd love to, but I'm dead from that plane ride," he says. "Sensei said we're running drills at sunrise."

Demetri winces in agreement. "If I don’t get at least six hours, my kata turns into interpretive dance. You've seen it. It's not good."

You smile, but it’s a little forced. "No worries. Totally get it. Go recharge your anime protagonist energy."

They stand, giving you quick fist bumps and sleepy "goodnights," and head toward the elevators.

And you're left there, suddenly feeling like the last nerd standing at the end of game night.

You sigh and start packing up the game pieces when a shadow moves near the edge of your vision.

You glance up, and there he is.

Axel Kovačević. The male captain from the Iron Dragons, 3x world champion.

Hands in his hoodie pocket, his hair still damp from a shower, that unreadable look on his face as he steps closer.

"You're nervous," he says simply, not as a question.

Your mouth opens slightly. "Were you just—standing there?"

"I was walking through. I heard you." He pauses. "I can stay."

You blink, completely taken back by his offer. "What?"

His eyes soften, just a little. "If you want company. I'll stay.”

Your heart does that stupid skip thing. You were prepared to spend the night stress-babbling about tactics to your plush Porg in your room, not this.

You clear your throat. "I mean, unless you’ve got broody karate stuff to do…"

"I can be broody here," he says with a hint of a smirk. "Besides… I want to."

Your voice catches. You weren’t expecting that. You never expect this kind of thing.

"…Okay," you nod, slowly smiling. "But only if you promise not to judge my dice-rolling form."

He lifts an eyebrow. "Depends. Is it as sharp as your roundhouse?"

You laugh, for real this time, and scoot over to make room on the couch.

─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─

You end up ditching the dice game in favor of scrolling through streaming services together, your legs tucked beneath you on the couch while Axel lounges beside you, one arm stretched along the backrest.

Somehow, you both end up deep in a passionate debate over The Lord of the Rings—specifically, the extended editions.

"I'm just saying," you argue, gesturing with the remote like it's a sword, "if you skip the scene where Boromir tries to teach the Hobbits sword-fighting, you have no heart."

"I didn't skip it," Axel says, completely serious. "I just said the Helm's Deep battle is better."

You gasp sitting up straight. "That’s blasphemy!"

"I stand by it."

"You would," you mutter, crossing your arms. "Tall. Mysterious. Favors epic destruction. You're basically the Croatian Aragorn."

He snorts at that, a rare laugh escaping him. "He's not mysterious."

"He is to me," you state.

The smile on his face fades slowly, but not in a bad way. More like something's shifted.

You turn back to the screen, but his silence lingers. After a few seconds, you glance sideways, and freeze when you catch him staring.

It's not casual. It's not accidental. His eyes are fixed on you, soft and unreadable, like he’s seeing something that’s unraveling him in real time.

"…What?" you ask, blinking. "Do I have something on my face or something?"

He doesn't laugh. Doesn't look away.

"No," he says, voice quiet. "You're just… really beautiful."

You stare at him, brain stalling like an overloaded game console.

"Shut up," you respond, reflexively, trying to hide the way your heart just jumped into another dimension. "You're messing with me."

"I'm not."

His hand lifts slowly, hesitating for just a second before he reaches out, fingers brushing lightly against your cheek as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

The touch is soft. Careful. Like he’s scared you'll pull away.

"You think I'd stay down here past midnight just to talk about hobbits if I didn't want to be near you?" he adds, tone lower now, almost like a confession.

You feel your breath catch in your throat. For once, your brain, usually full of stats and trivia and sarcasm, comes up completely blank.

Just you, Axel, and the warm hum of hotel lights.

"…I, um," you manage, eloquently.

He leans in slightly, not enough to crowd you, but enough to make the air between you shift.

"You don't have to say anything," he says. "I just wanted you to know."

And he means it. You can tell. No teasing, no smirk, just honesty.

The kind that makes your stomach flip in a really inconvenient but also kind of amazing way.

Your cheeks are burning, your brain is jelly, and your heart is definitely betraying you with how loud it's pounding in your chest.

Axel's fingers still hover just slightly from your face, like he doesn't want to break the moment too fast.

You swallow, trying to work moisture back into your throat.

"…No one's ever told me that before," you admit, voice barely above a whisper. "Outside the dojo, I'm the weird girl. The one who'd rather stay in playing video games or ranting about Tolkien lore than go out and flirt with boys."

You let out a small laugh, kind of nervous. "I have zero game. Like negative game."

He tilts his head, the smallest crease forming between his brows as he studies you.

"That's because the other guys are idiots."

You feel the heat creep up your neck as you catch sight of his soft blue eyes boring into your own.

"I'm not like them," Axel says, his voice quiet but firm. "I don't care if you're a nerd. I like that you're different. You're not trying to be like anyone else. You're just you."

You glance at him, unsure, still half expecting a punchline or some kind of tease, but it never comes.

His expression is completely serious. Earnest.

You exhale slowly, still kind of stunned. "…Are you sure? Like, you know I own three different replica swords, right? And I named my car after a Star Wars character?"

"I like that, too."

"…The swords or the car?"

"Both," he responds without hesitation. "Especially if one of the swords is Andúril."

You let out an actual laugh, a real one this time, and shake your head in disbelief. "You're either lying or you're some kind of perfect, broody glitch in the Matrix."

He leans a little closer, lips twitching into a rare smirk.

"Maybe I'm just into you," he says softly.

Your heart flips, and you're about to make some kind of awkward joke just to keep from combusting when he adds, almost offhandedly—

"You know… earlier you said I was like Aragorn."

You nod, caught off guard. "I mean… yeah. You kind of have Aragorn energy. Quiet. Intense. Sword skills. Very'‘if by my life or death I can protect you' vibes."

Axel's smile grows a little, barely there, but real.

"Then I guess that makes you Arwen."

Your brain stutters, completely still in shock this boy was giving you any kind of compliment.

"What?"

He shrugs, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "She was powerful. Kind. Smart. Everyone underestimated her. But she was strong. Unshakable. Beautiful."

Your breath catches in your throat again, and you're sure your entire body temperature just spiked by ten degrees.

He looks down, just briefly, before adding, quieter, "And Aragorn loved her the second he saw her."

Silence.

It stretches between you, soft and warm and full of everything you didn't think someone would ever say to you.

You open your mouth. Close it. Open it again.

"Okay," you finally manage, eyes wide. "That was… objectively the smoothest thing anyone has ever said to me."

He tilts his head slightly, playful. "Even with your zero game?"

You laugh, nudging him with your shoulder. "Okay, rude."

But he just smiles at you again. Open, gentle, and you realize something that hits you like a surprise boss level:

This boy means it.

─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─

The lobby's mostly empty now, just the soft hum of vending machines and the distant sound of elevator dings echoing through the quiet.

You and Axel walk slowly toward the elevators, shoulders bumping every so often, your fingers brushing once or twice in a way that makes your stomach flutter each time.

He doesn't rush the silence. Doesn't try to fill it with anything unnecessary.

Just… walks with you. Like it's enough.

When you reach your floor, you both step out, and suddenly it hits you. You don't want the night to end.

Even though your tournament is tomorrow. Even though your brain should be spiraling into strategy mode. All you can think about is the way Axel's still looking at you.

When you reach your room, you pause in front of the door, turning to face him. He stops just a step closer than before, and your breath hitches.

"This is me," you say quietly, hating how cliché it sounds but not knowing what else to say.

Axel nods, hands in his hoodie pocket. "I know."

You don't open the door yet. Neither does he move away.

And then, gently, he asks, "Can I kiss you?"

Your eyes widen, and your whole body seems to freeze in place.

"I—" You blink, mouth suddenly dry. "I've never, um… I mean. I haven't—"

You don’t have to finish. His expression softens instantly.

"It's okay," he says, stepping just a little closer, lowering his voice like it’s something sacred. "It doesn't have to be perfect. I just want it to be special for you."

You feel your heartbeat everywhere, in your chest, in your fingertips, behind your eyes.

"I do too," you say, almost whispering. "Especially with you. I just… might be really bad at it."

He smiles, the kind of smile that makes everything feel a little slower, a little steadier.

"I'll help," he murmurs. "And you're not bad at anything."

Your breath catches again as he reaches up, his hand cupping your cheek so gently it nearly makes you cry.

"You're beautiful, Y/n," he says, his thumb brushing your skin. "And I see you. Every part of you."

And then, slowly, giving you every second to pull away if you want to, he leans in and kisses you.

Soft.

Careful.

So full of unspoken words that you forget to be nervous halfway through and just feel.

When he finally pulls back, your eyes flutter open and you're sure your face is on fire.

He smirks slightly, but his eyes are still soft. "Still think I'm messing with you?"

You cover your face with your hands. "A little less now."

He chuckles under his breath, then reaches out to gently tug one of your hands away, wanting to see the adorable blush he created.

"I will see you tomorrow,” he says, brushing a kiss to your forehead this time. "Goodnight, my Arwen."

And just like that, he turns and walks down the hall, leaving you standing outside your door, heart pounding, lips tingling, and head completely, blissfully spinning.

─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─

Masterlist

Taglist: @ggrgcribg

(a/n: that was cute as hell 🥹 btw, i've updated my rules for requesting incase y'all wanna go check that post out it's linked on my masterlist. I think I have 4 more requests to get through before I open my submission box again. thank you to those who have been so patient with me with getting your requests out, this past month has been crazy and i'm up for a promotion at work so i've been doing a lot of interview prep. anyways, don't forget to like, comment, reblog, love y'all!!! 🤍)

[otp-after-dark]

I can't drive this point home enough: THT writers full on betrayed these characters and book canon. Here's how:

There are creative adaptations — and then there are creative decisions that blatantly ignore the spirit and structure of the source material. And what the writers of The Handmaid’s Tale did after Season 2 falls squarely in the latter category.

If you’re feeling angry, confused, or heartbroken about how Nick and June’s story ended — you’re right to be. But maybe this will offer you some hope and peace about the real ending. Because the show didn’t just deviate from Margaret Atwood’s novel. It hollowed it out — especially around the story’s most important themes: forgiveness, love, ambiguity, agency, and the power of choice.

Season 1 and 2 Were Aligned with the Book — But After That? A Total Creative Derailment.

Let’s be honest: Season 1 and much of Season 2 are some of the best television ever made. Every time I re-watch this series I still am on the edge of my seat during these episodes. Praise be, Max Minghella. I just adore his interpretation of Nick. He got it right.

They’re grounded in Atwood’s literary DNA:

June’s inner voice.

The claustrophobic terror of Gilead.

The quiet acts of resistance.

The messy, complicated, non-sanitized nature of desire and survival.

Nick as both risk and refuge — her tether to humanity and her ticket to freedom.

But after that?

The writers didn’t evolve the story. They hijacked it.

Nick Was Never Confirmed to be a Commander — and His Arc Was Meant to Remain Ambiguous.

Let’s start here, because this is one of the most egregious creative deviations. This is the confirmed THT book ending.

“More likely it was ‘Nick,’ who, by the evidence of the very existence of the tapes, must have helped ‘Offred’ to escape. The way in which he was able to do this marks him as a member of the shadowy Mayday underground, which was not identical with the Underground Femaleroad but had connections with it. The latter was purely a rescue operation, the former quasi-military. A number of Mayday operatives are known to have infiltrated the Gileadean power structure at the highest levels, and the placement of one of their members as chauffeur to Waterford would certainly have been a coup; a double coup, as ‘Nick’ must have been at the same time a member of the Eyes, as such chauffeurs and personal servants often were.” —The Handmaid’s Tale, Historical Notes

“He could, of course, have assassinated her himself, which might have been the wiser course, but the human heart remains a factor, and, as we know, both of them thought she might be pregnant by him. What male of the Gilead period could resist the possibility of fatherhood, so redolent of status, so highly prized? Instead, he called in a rescue team of Eyes, who may or may not have been authentic but in any case were under his orders. In doing so he may well have brought about his own downfall.” —The Handmaid’s Tale, Historical Notes

Nick: a low-ranking, mysterious figure. Possibly a double agent. Almost certainly part of Mayday. Not a Commander. Not climbing Gilead’s ladder. And definitely not “playing the long game” in the regime.

The idea that Nick was involved in Gilead’s inception is pure speculation — the book never confirms it, and deliberately keeps his past ambiguous.

His motives? Human. Messy. Unclear. Emotional. That’s the point.

But instead of honoring that ambiguity — the entire reason his character worked — the show made the baffling decision to:

Promote him to Commander — a rank he never holds in the book and one that directly contradicts the ambiguity Atwood preserved.

Suggest he was involved in Gilead’s inception — a narrative never confirmed and completely speculative in canon.

Embed him deeper in Gilead politics instead of writing his arc toward getting out, as the book implies.

Create a Gilead marriage plot device (i.e. Rose and the baby) to morally complicate him in ways the book never does.

And finally, turn him into a romantic cautionary tale, rather than the revolutionary force Atwood pointed to in the epilogue.

This was never Atwood’s Nick. This was TV prestige antihero Nick, stripped of subtext and rebranded as a walking guilt symbol.

And honestly? We should’ve known because Season 3 was the turning point. Unfortunately, the narrative arcs for June/Nick in Season 4 especially fooled me good.

The Luke Love Triangle Was Manufactured — and Totally Out of Step with the Book

One of the most damaging creative pivots the show made post–Season 2 was playing up the love triangle between June, Luke, and Nick.

Let’s be clear: The book never does this.

In Atwood’s novel, Luke is a memory. A hope. A voice that fades as June’s present becomes more immediate, more real. She doesn’t even know if he’s alive.

She waits for him, but she stops defining herself by him. She sleeps with Nick. She thinks she may be pregnant. She chooses connection in the present over loyalty to a ghost.

That’s the arc.

But the show — especially in Seasons 4 through 6 — deliberately rewrites this. They keep Luke alive. Make him present. Turn him into an emotional safety net.

And then they force June to constantly re-litigate her feelings for him, as if her love for Nick somehow invalidates her trauma, her choices, her survival.

They gave us a triangle where there was never meant to be one — and in doing so, they robbed June of the clarity and emotional logic that defined her character.

The Final Season Should Have Been About Nick Fulfilling His Book Canon End — Not Being Erased

The most damning thing about this ending is what we didn’t get: Nick helping June escape again and his turn into Mayday.

Because that’s literally what happens in the book.

And if you bring The Testaments into the discussion, you could absolutely make the case that Nick and June escaped together. The ending is left intentionally ambiguous — but deliberately so. Atwood leaves the door open, not closed. Especially considering that in The Handmaid’s Tale novel, June makes it painfully clear that she doesn’t want to leave without him. The show could have honored that ambiguity, leaned into it, and built a later-season arc around the two of them escaping Gilead together — which, by all accounts, would have aligned more faithfully with what the book implies.

He gets her out. Quietly. Without fanfare. Possibly risking everything — including his own life — because he loves her and sees what’s coming.

Instead, the show gave us a Nick who:

Doesn’t move.

Doesn’t fight.

Doesn’t even say goodbye.

He’s turned into a plot device. A cautionary tale. And in doing that, the writers erased the most faithful ending to the book they could have used.

Just imagine:

Nick coordinating her final escape, the way he did in the novel.

Both of them fully aware of what they’re risking and doing it together.

Him finally stepping out of the shadows of Gilead, and choosing her, again.

That was the ending. It was right there. And they left it on the floor.

Don’t let the show gaslight you into thinking this was the only “realistic” way forward. Don’t accept a final season that punishes its own characters for loving deeply and surviving fully.

Because the truth is:

Book Nick was never the problem.

The triangle was never the point.

June choosing love, danger, forgiveness, and herself — even when it’s messy — was always the most feminist story they could’ve told.

They just didn’t tell it.

[ironunderstands]

2.1 was so good holy shit (spoilers, obviously)

GOD THEY ATE AND IM SPECIFICALLY GONNA TALK ABOUT HOW WELL THEY WROTE RATIO IN THIS BECAUSE IM FOAMING AT THE GODDAMN MOUTH IT CHANGES HOW YOU VIEW EVERYTHING BUT IN A GOOD WAY.

so, let’s start from the beginning in 2.0 I want to walk you through my experience of it

ratio mean to aventurine, everyone gets mad. I feel weird about it, pre-2.1 I come to the conclusion that he got used as a plot device in that scene, since being racist contradicts his core motivations and the dialogue is awkward and has no real reason behind it, I chalk it up to bad writing but ultimately forgive it because 2.1 seems centered around Aventurine so they need setup for that

2.1 drops, my bsf plays the update throughout the night and we are losing our shit. He gets to the part where Ratio “betrays” Aventurine. I fucking lose it, I try to reconcile this with my preconceived notions of ratio, they don’t match up at all, his behavior that whole time doesn’t in the slightest. I am confused, I wonder if I have been wrong about him this whole time, if his whole speech on the Space Station and his character quests were some kind of fluke. I mean it could be in character? Knowledge of how a stellaron works could save millions if not billions of lives, invaluable information which Ratio would have trouble turning down because of its value. It still feels deeply wrong, Ratio isnt a backstabber, and he wouldn’t so easily bargain with Sunday over information he has no confirmation of (and could likely obtain in some other way).

The story continues, me and Haseeb (aforementioned best friend) are still pissed, I’m losing it because my favorite character just did something so unforgivable and out of character and I feel like a complete and utter idiot for interpreting a character to be a good person when they so clearly weren’t. Well, I (luckily) was so so so so so so so wrong about that, as it was all a setup, a plan devised by Aventurine to distract Sunday and forward their goals. I’ve never been happier, and suddenly every weird behavior, every “this doesn’t make sense” goes from “bad writing” to perhaps one of my favorite retroactive twists in fiction.

Ratio belittling Aventurine for his background doesn’t make any sense, I mean we literally saw the guy give a whole ass speech about how he believes all people deserve access to knowledge and that everyone is capable of being creative and having intellect, but that they just have to try for it, and if they are incapable of it, he DOCTOR Ratio is there to lend a helping hand. To cure the galaxy of stupidity, something which he views as not the lack of knowledge but rather the misuse and misinterpretation of it, how he depises the Genius Society because they mostly do not try and use their intellect from the betterment of other, and actively guide/encourage other scientists (and in Hertas case the researchers at the space station) to view knowledge as some sort of prize or commodity rather than tool. This notion is what causes Screwellum to acknowledge that Ratio is more like a medical doctor than a scholar. And this notion is something Sunday Isn’t Aware Of.

Sunday doesn’t know who Ratio really is, he may have heard of his various exploits, but Ratio has a reputation for arrogance, bluntness and insensitivity, something which Ratio plays up to the nines. The 2.0 scene with Aventurine goes from seemingly massively OOC for Ratio to him actively playing up his negative reputation to play into Sundays perceptions of the pair for their plan. Ratio->

a) makes it seem like Aventurine fucked up and he’s mad at him for losing the cornerstones, something which Sunday would see and go “hmm they don’t like each other

b) this “oh I can drive a wedge between them” notion gets worse (although in their case better) when Ratio brings up Aventurine’s (not entirely accurate) background. Sunday now thinks he has leverage over Aventurine and even more of a chance of getting Ratio to betray him. Ratio also makes it seem like he just learned this information by stating he “did his homework” and this supposed unfamiliarity with one another would give Sunday more confidence to try and drive a wedge between them

c) this makes it seem like the IPC are unaware of the Families constant surveillance, as it looks like they are having an important conversation in a private room, which would make Sunday think they are unaware of his eyes and ears everywhere

Now let me qualify this notion with more evidence because you could still try and argue that the deal Ratio and Aventurine struck was post 2.0 argument

Topaz (my glorious Queen). At the end of the 1.4 (or was it 1.5?) Belabog quest she has a conversation with Aventurine in which he requests for her help in Penacony, and we do not get a confirmation on if she said yes or not. Until 2.1, in which the the Topaz (and Jade) stone in in Aventurines possession, meaning she took him up on that offer prior to 2.0 because how else would he bring multiple cornerstones there, which we know there are many because Ratio says he lost the cornerstones, not just his own. Topaz would not give this item up easily or on a whim in between 2.0 and 2.1, meaning she would have to be let in on his plan prior, meaning the plan was formed prior. Since Ratio was also assigned to this mission keeping him in the dark would make negative sense and actively undermine their collaboration, something which he brings up in their fake argument

2. The Final Victory Lightcone. I originally thought this scene to be after their argument for complicated reasons, the most important of which being the minor snippet of conversation we see between Ratio and Aventurine during the first time we meet Acheron. Aventurine mentions 3 chips, Ratio doubts him, and the lightcone description starts with Aventurine questioning his doubt and firing three shots, a perfect correlation that made me place the order of events in that way. However, we get to see the snippet of conversation between Aventurine and Ratio in game, right before they meet Sunday, not prior to the lightcone events. However, they are still clearly connected for aforementioned reasons, just in a different manner, let me explain. Now we know the three chips reference not bullets but the three cornerstones, and Ratio openly expresses his doubt because the family is always watching (something which I will get into) and because a part of him does doubt this plan will go well. However, Aventurine prior reminds him of the events of the lightcone with the three chips. My interpretation is that Aventurine took that gamble in the lightcone to convince Ratio to go along with his crazy plan since if he can win a game of Russian Roulette with an unwavering smile on his face he an insane gamble means nothing to him (ratio doesn’t buy it because it’s ratio but the sheer audacity or you could say the “charming audacity” makes him go along with it). In my opinion this scene only makes sense pre-penacony, due to the timeline of events, which is why I believe it the reason for the events in it has to be Aventurine trying to convince Ratio to join in.

3) The family is always watching. During the 2.1 story quest it gets brought up several times in many different ways that it seems like the family has eyes on everything and everyone. Sunday’s fuckass bird is everywhere, and the man himself (minus being a goddamn biblically accurate angel) is covered in eye shaped shit and possesses close ties with the Harmony, which lends itself well to a character that knows things considering the Aeon itself is a conglomeration of many different perspectives. He fucking perception checks Aventurine, when the crew goes to look for info on firefly they learn the dream pools monitor people’s vitals and everything, even producing a dialogue option where the trailblazer states they feel like their every move is being watched. Topaz gets stalked by bloodhound members upon arrival, I could go on. TLDR Sunday knows almost everything that’s going on in Penacony, this is what leads him to believe the traitor is within the family, and his access to knowledge is something the IPC 100% knows about. I mean they have been presumably attempting to try and get it back for a while, and they would reasonably extensively try and learn everything about it. The Family notoriously hates negotiating with them so the IPC either learning and/or coming to the conclusion that the Family is watching their every move isn’t a ridiculous notion. If this conversation was genuine, if Ratio truly wanted to discuss this matter with Aventurine, why would he do it in a likely wiretapped, not very soundproof room where any passerby could hear Ratio loudly exclaim that Aventurine lost the very important cornerstones and that he is also one of the most despised groups in the galaxy because that would really do numbers for both their reputations. If you think about it, this not being staged is an incredibly stupid blunder on Ratio’s end (minus the deliberate OOCness) because of all the places Ratio could set up a very important meeting he does it in one of the worst places ever.

4) The dialogue in the scene. It’s awkward, it’s so awkward and the whole “also my family died I didn’t get an education” seemed so tacked on the first time I watched it. Knowing now, it seemed so tacked on because it was, Aventurine had to shove the info in there somewhere and their incredible conversational skills decided that was the best part in there. Ratio fucking leaving before Aventurine is even done talking goes from a “huh weird” to a “wow he is really playing up this arrogant scholar role”. And if Ratio is playing the arrogant scholar, Aventurine is playing the dumb, helpless, blonde to a T. Losing the cornerstones and acting nonchalant about it, letting Ratio insult him so callously and letting the insults slide, talking absolute nonsense at the end about random things that don’t matter, sadly lamenting into the distance that he’s alone again. Bro is playing it up and I live for it. They also and play up these personas in their little adventure prior to meeting Sunday, Aventurine asks stupid questions like wondering about the species of the bird that make up the statues and talking about how he wants to play in the sandpit and even insulting Sunday a bit, behavior that would make Sunday think him unprepared and unserious rather than cold and calculating. If Aventurine does that well, Ratio plays up his arrogant, uncaring scholar persona to the nines. He insults any and every decision or thing Aventurine does, loudly sighing of how happy he is to finally have some peace and quiet when Aventurine leaves his sight for 0.00008 milleseconds, pointing out his sarcasm, beefing with a random Pepeshi bodyguard no reason, pointing out his sarcasm, just the exaggerated way he talks in general, and suggesting he admit Aventurine into the Genius Society (even Ratio wouldn’t stoop so low as to suggest Aventurine was worthy of that).

Moreover, this is really, really tragic because I do think there are several moments of genuine banter and fun the two share “Ratio, you’re huge!” was not added to the script to enhance the plot guys. And obviously Aventurine knows most of Ratios behavior is acting, however he has such severe trust issues, and Ratio is so damn straightforward and blunt that he worries the man was serious about some of it which just breaks my heart. Soft Ratio please add it give me one conversation, the note at the end of 2.1 doesn’t count it’s too short.

Ultimately, knowing what I know now I can’t help but view the 2.0 conversation with Aventurine as being anything but staged, it simply makes no sense otherwise, and it happily obsolescent Ratio of his sins. This was a bit incoherent I honestly just wanted to rant (if you couldn’t tell haha) but I hope you enjoyed it regardless. I need sincere Ratio more then I need oxygen and I’m not afraid to say it.

[orangeejuice]

Analyzing Cole's Reflection (or lack thereof)

This is a bit of an analysis regarding the topic of Cole's reflection in Season 5, which I find really fascinating, especially considering how it was explained in canon (particularly how it was written to be completely insignificant). Despite this, I personally haven't seen it talked about much, even though it has really interesting implications. While I do believe this is in part due to odd/sloppy writing, I also think there's quite a bit to see beneath the surface here, as I'll discuss under the cut below.

As we know, in Season 5, Episode 8, "Grave Danger," the ninja are going through the ice labyrinth in the tomb of the First Spinjitzu master. Within the ice, the ninja are able to see reflections of their future selves. This scene is actually quite important, as it becomes pretty relevant in Season 6 (Skybound), due to Jay seeing himself with Nya in his reflection.

However, what I find to be the most notable in this scene is that Cole does not see any reflection whatsoever. This causes him quite a bit of distress and confusion, although this is quickly interrupted by Morro attacking the ninja. Kai seems to bring up the possibility that the lack of reflection is because Cole is a ghost, but this is quickly shot down by Zane stating that ghosts cast reflections.

Upon first viewing this scene, it's pretty easy to have many different interpretations of why Cole doesn't see his reflection. I personally interpreted it as Cole quite literally not having a future, therefore not having a reflection, which felt quite relevant due to him becoming a ghost only four episodes prior.

Yet, in Season 6, Episode 1, "Infamous," we get our "answer." Cole finds out he can turn invisible and concludes that he couldn't see his reflection because "he can disappear." Thus, this plot thread (or whatever you want to call it) regarding Cole's reflection is entirely dropped, seemingly confirming that this explaination is true.

My issue with this is that not only is it boring, but it just doesn't make sense. For reference, this is what the other ninja's reflections look like.

As we can see, these reflections clearly are not meant to be their near futures, judging by the visible aging on Kai, Jay, and Nya (Zane being the exception, of course). If Cole's reflection really isn't visible because his future self is quite literally invisible, that implies that either his reflection is somehow the exception (by showing his near future), or that for whatever reason, his future self would have a reason to be invisible. Frankly, neither of these explainations are plausible, which is why I really dislike invisibility being the actual explaination. It's entirely possible that Cole only believes this to be the case as a way to cope with the otherwise bleak implication about his future. I prefer to interpret it this way opposed to it being written to genuinely be true.

However, it's also important to note that these future reflections don't seem to be set in stone. In particular (and forgive me if I am misinterpreting this), Jay's future seen in the reflection seems to have been entirely avoided by his final wish at the end of Skybound erasing the majority of the events in that season and thus changing the future from that point. In particular, him gaining the eyepatch during the events of Skybound leads not only us as the viewers, but Jay himself to connect this to the reflection he saw in Season 5.

It's also important to note that Jay's final wish would most likely not change the future reflections of the other ninja, just his own. However, as stated earlier, if it's possible for Jay to change his own future reflection, than perhaps the same logic can extend to the others as well.

With Cole in particular, I genuinely wonder if his lack of reflection was actually supposed to be relevant again in Day of the Departed but was cut for time. As much as I love DotD, it was clearly trying to shove as much content as possible into just 44 minutes. Unfortunately, the story ends up being condensed quite a bit as a result and I think it could've really used at least another 22 minutes, especially if it included stuff like this connection. But this post isn't meant to be about my thoughts on DotD's pacing and content, really, so I'll move on.

My thoughts on this are that perhaps Cole altered his future by going through the rift on the Day of Departed and becoming human once more, rather than fading or becoming stuck and forgotten in Airjitzu temple. I actually really do like this explanation, because it makes sense. Cole fading or being forgotten in a "bad" future are entirely plausible reasons for his lack of reflection in the ice.

Either way, I think it's quite a shame that it wasn't explored more. Obviously Ninjago is a show meant for kids and exploring a character's feelings regarding their possible lack of a future can be a little dark (although I don't personally see it as being too dark for Ninjago). Cole's fear and resignation (at least until his friends get to the Airjitzu temple) of fading away is completely well founded, because of this small scene in Season 5 and it adds even more motivation for him to go "settle his debt" with Master Yang.

On the other hand, it's not explored much in fan content either from what I can see, and I think that it's a huge missed opportunity. Like, can you imagine how scared Cole must've been when he started fading away and "ghosting out," meanwhile the fact he didn't have a reflection of his future self lingered in the back of his mind? Especially if he was coping with this fear by concluding it was due to his invisibility. Even with the events of DotD, I can imagine Cole still worrying about it in the present. After all, for all he knows, that future could still come to pass.

Overall, I found this scene and how it was handled super interesting and I would really love to see it brought up more in fan content (I might even write my own fic relating to this at some point).

Either way, I'd also be curious to see if anyone else has thoughts about this. I may have missed something that the writers/creators have stated regarding this, so if that's the case, you can let me know as well.

[rottenpumpkin13]

ASZC team up and decide to learn as much about LOVELESS as they can so they can use it to terrorize Genesis on April fools day. How does that go? Do they end up psychoanalyzing him or do they end up quoting every BAD adaptation of Loveless just to piss him off? or is it just pure confusion on how his friends suddenly know in depth Loveless lore?

For all Genesis' dramatic critic nature, he becomes absolutely delighted when his friends show interest in Loveless.

�� Sephiroth quotes "The wandering soul knows no rest, for dreams of tomorrow haunt the broken vessel" (a supposed Act 1 variant from the Kalm Theater's 1976 production that was scrapped for being "too metaphysically complex for audiences"). Genesis' eye twitches for a solid minute before launching into an hour-long explanation of why this alternate version actually enhances the hero's character arc. Sephiroth is floored.

• Zack shows up with an extensive analysis about how the gift of the goddess is actually representative of inner peace rather than a physical gift, backed by cross-references from twelve different translations. Genesis is so thrilled he traps Zack in his apartment for hours, going through every single citation and adding his own interpretations. Genesis is too excited to notice how every two minutes Zack scoots his chair closer to the door.

• Angeal smugly suggests that Genesis resonates with Loveless because the quest mirrors his own search for purpose and recognition. Genesis actually tears up and hugs him, saying "My friend, you truly understand the depths of this masterpiece" while Angeal awkwardly pats his back, completely thrown off.

• Cloud's attempt at criticism is about how "the metaphors are overdone and the goddess is an unnecessary plot device." it results in Genesis calmly sitting him down for what turns into an eight-hour defense of symbolic storytelling. Cloud tries to maintain his stance but somehow ends up with annotated copies of three different translations and a reading schedule.

• Now they're all trapped in weekly Loveless discussions because none of them can admit it started as a prank. Genesis has already planned the next six months of book club.

• They want to tell him, but he just looks so happy bringing out dumbapple juice and snacks while raving about his passion, no one has the heart to back out.

• Except for Zack, who's method of evasion is to just chug a liter of juice and then spend the next two hours in the bathroom.

[axkirak]

Special : My mother is my enemy│(Qimir x Reader)

Remark : This one-shot is a special chapter from The Curse of Cassandra series. I recommend reading the main series first before reading this one.

Read in Ao3 : here

Pairings:  Qimir x f!reader(SEA Reader)  [The Acolyte]

Content Rating : Mature 18+  Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warning (AT YOUR OWN RISK)

tags/themes : Alternate Universe - Dune & Star wars, Partners in Crime, Strangers to Lovers

A/N : another special chapter because I still can’t move on from The Curse of Cassandra

This special chapter is inspired by the love-hate relationship between Paul, Alia, and Jessica (in the novels. Paul and Alia both hate and love their mom, while Jessica fears her kids and what she's created.)

The story might seem confusing since it's closely tied to the main plot. It ends a bit open-ended, but that’s intentional. It's meant to fill in gaps and explain certain things. Not sure if it'll leave you more confused, though—like about who Alia really is and whether she's Qimir's daughter. But I’ll leave that open for you to interpret. No right or wrong here. I wanted Alia's identity to stay unclear.

[Special II ] My mother is my enemy

My mother is my enemy. She does not know it, but she is. She bore me; she trained me. She is my enemy.

Paul Atreides (Dune Book One)

As you reflect on your past, a deep regret lingers for the choices you've made. 

You wonder: if you hadn’t chosen to drink the Water of Life that day, would things have turned out differently?

You wouldn’t have uncovered the truth about Qimir being a Sith Lord, nor would you have had to face the looming catastrophe threatening the universe. Most importantly, your daughter wouldn’t have been born with this 'abnormality.'

You had never considered having children, as the Bene Gesserit trained you to control your body with meticulous precision, down to the exact timing of ovulation. You were confident you had taken every precaution, but fate has a way of slipping through even the smallest cracks. By the time you noticed the changes in your body, it was already too late.

You discovered your pregnancy after drinking the Water of Life. Paul Atreides himself delivered the grim news: “I’m sorry to tell you this, but your child will not be normal. I’ve done everything in my power to help, but I don’t know if it will work.”

You knew well the consequences of drinking the Water of Life while pregnant: if the child was male, he would die in the womb immediately. But if female, she would be born with a curse—an 'Abomination' a forbidden being by the Bene Gesserit’s teachings. Just like you. Just like Alia Atreides.

And unfortunately, your child was a girl.

While your Ruh-spirit drifts through Al’am Al-Mithal, teetering on the edge of life and death, you are haunted by visions of intertwined destinies—yours and your unborn child’s. This pregnancy is entwined with the Kwisatz Haderach’s destined path, an unavoidable twist in the tapestry of fate.

Years from now, your daughter will bear another daughter. This cycle will repeat until a son is finally born—Anakin Skywalker, the second Kwisatz Haderach.

Your child’s entire life has been predetermined, even before she was born.

What have I brought into this world? you wonder.

This question comes to your mind as you hold the infant in your arms, after enduring the long, torturous labor on Tatooine. The baby’s skin is flushed red, her small body eerily still, making no sound, For a terrifying moment, she seems lifeless. until she opens her eyes—striking blue and filled with an awareness far beyond her age, as though she has lived through lifetimes.

The baby reaches out, her tiny fingers curling around your pinky finger. That first touch stirs a bond that has existed since she was in your womb. The gradual mental connection reveals a chilling truth: the Water of Life has completely altered the child’s soul. Her essence has been bathed in ancestral memories, leaving almost nothing of her own self intact.

This child is mine, you think with sorrow and fear as you look at your daughter's face, but she is also not mine.

Paul’s voice echoes in your mind, confirming your thoughts. You are right.

In that instant, you feel Paul’s essence radiating from somewhere deep within your consciousness. You clearly sense that his emotions at this moment are trembling no differently from your own.

“Alia,” the name slips from your lips, but it is Paul who speaks.

And the baby, wrapped in a clean white cloth, responds with a faint, enigmatic smile that stops you cold.

On that day, you decided to name your daughter 'Alia the Second' after Paul Atreides’ sister

Alia, the Strange One—that’s what they call her.

Alia speaks her first words at just six months old. Unlike typical infant babbling, her speech shifts between the tones of a child and moments of clarity so profound, it feels almost out of place for a baby.

And the first word she says is “Paul.”

The name she utters almost causes family problems, as Qimir doesn't understand who this 'Paul' is, and why his daughter would call out another man’s name instead of his.

But you know well that Alia isn't speaking to you or Qimir—she is communicating with Paul Atreides.

“I love you, Paul,” the little girl tells you once. Her simple words strike a deep chord with your soul.

You turn to look at the child lying in her cradle, and suddenly, a wave of emotions surges through you. The feeling isn’t yours—it’s Paul’s. Sorrow, longing, regret, guilt—they crash over you all at once, leaving you in tears before you even realize it.

“I love you too, Alia,” Paul responds.

Alia reveals her Force abilities for the first time when she’s only three years old. The incident happens unintentionally and nearly turns disastrous had you not intervened in time.

At first, you don’t understand what’s happening. All you see are several children lying on the ground, writhing in pain, their cries of anguish filling the air. Only Alia stands amidst the chaos, her expression cold and detached, a trickle of blood running down from her nose to her chin. She seems unaware of her actions, as though lost in her own world—or perhaps another realm entirely.

It’s not until you shout, using the Voice, "Alia, stop this now!" that she snaps back to reality, and everything halts immediately

You quickly scoop her up and rush home, your heart pounding with indescribable anxiety. You realize this is far more serious than you had anticipated. Alia has never shown any signs of Force sensitivity—not to mention the Bene Gesserit techniques you haven’t even begun to teach her. Yet the child somehow wields both powers simultaneously. Worse still, she uses them to harm others.

Soon, this news is bound to reach other ears, and if it reaches the Jedi or other dangerous factions in the galaxy—your family’s safety, especially Alia’s, will be in grave jeopardy.

When the door closes shut, you kneel before Alia, placing your hands firmly on her small shoulders. Staring into her face, discomfort grows within you. Alia doesn’t resemble you or Qimir at all. Instead, she eerily resembles Paul Atreides—especially her large, deep blue eyes that hold a wisdom far beyond her years. You tell yourself that Alia is still a child, your daughter, no matter what essence dwells within her spirit.

“What did you do to those children? Why?” Your voice grows harsh, almost angry, though you manage to keep control over your temper.

“They called me a freak. I was so angry I wanted them to hurt... and then they just fell down,” Alia whispers, her head bowed, refusing to meet your gaze. “I really am a freak.”

You can feel her emotions—deep sadness and guilt radiating through her small frame. She’s not lying. She didn’t mean for it to happen. But controlling one’s emotions and powers is extremely difficult for a child this age. It’s even harder for someone who has been different since birth.

You hug your daughter tightly, silent tears streaming down your face. Guilt consumes you. This isn’t Alia’s fault—it’s yours. You are the one who brought this child into this world, knowing full well what Alia is, and knowing what fate awaits her ahead.

For a moment, you can't help but think that giving birth to Alia was a grave mistake, a mistake you cannot go back and fix.

“You’re not a freak, Alia. You’re special,” you protest with a trembling voice. Yet, deep down, you know those words are nothing more than a comforting lie.

Your child is a freak, and so are you. That’s an undeniable truth.

Qimir isn’t particularly shocked when he learns of Alia’s powerful display of the Force. You can tell he has sensed something unusual about her all along, even though he has never asked you about it directly. Which is a relief, as you’re not ready to explain everything to him—not just about Paul’s spirit but also the complexities of Alia’s nature, a mystery no ordinary person, let alone one who isn’t Bene Gesserit, could ever truly understand.

Still, conflict within your family becomes inevitable. Qimir wants Alia to become his apprentice, to inherit the Sith ways—an idea you adamantly refuse. You know the cruelty of the Sith path, especially the ritual that demands the apprentice to take their master’s life to ascend as the new Sith Lord.

You know Alia has the potential to do it—her powers are formidable. With proper training, defeating Qimir wouldn’t be difficult. But you would never let that happen. "The Sith way will not be used on my child. I will not let her kill her own father!" you declare with unyielding determination. It’s the first time you dare to defy the agreement between you and Qimir, and the only time he cannot override your will.

You vow that Alia’s hands will never be stained with blood like yours or Qimir’s. You don’t want her to face the same cruelty. That’s why you are determined to protect her completely, allowing her to grow up as a normal person, free from the paths of the Sith, the Jedi, or the Bene Gesserit. You believe this is the only thing you, as a mother, can do for your child.

Yet, in the end, you still fail.

Alia committed her first murder at the age of five. This time was different from the previous incidents—she did it with deliberate intent, not by accident or carelessness.

Your family’s sense of security began to erode two years ago, the moment Alia started using her powers. Stories of a strange young girl harnessing both the Force and the ancient magic of the Bene Gesserit eventually caught the attention of certain bounty hunters.

Being hunted was nothing new to you and Qimir. Over the years, the two of you had become adept at forging identities, blending in, and disappearing whenever danger came too close. But things were far more complicated now that you had a child to protect. Relocating and covering your tracks became increasingly difficult, especially since the bounty hunters no longer targeted you or Qimir. Their focus was entirely on Alia.

What better target could there be than a seemingly harmless child, easy to capture?

That’s what they thought, and it turned out to be a fatal mistake.

You watch Alia, your daughter, sitting with her legs gently swinging over the edge of a wooden chair in the secret hideout. Her gray aba[1] robe remains pristine, free of bloodstains—a stark contrast to the blood-soaked concrete floor surrounding her. Scattered across the room are the corpses of several men, their lifeless bodies lying in disarray.

Using the observation techniques of the Bene Gesserit, you quickly discern that none of the corpses show any signs of struggle. The absence of resistance and the unnatural positioning of their bodies make it clear: they willingly turned their weapons on one another.

There is only one explanation for this—the Voice.

Despite being surrounded by this gruesome bloodbath, Alia shows no trace of fear. You know immediately, without needing any special techniques, that your daughter caused all this.

Fortunately, Qimir isn’t here to witness this, you think. If he were, I wouldn’t know how to explain what our daughter has done.

“I had to do it, Mother,” Alia says, calling you “Mother” for the first time. Her voice is steady, too composed for a child of her age. “If I hadn’t acted, they would have kept coming after us.” She sighs softly, then offers you an innocent smile. “Father will understand. He might even be proud that I can defend myself.”

She’s not wrong. The Sith revere strength above all else. It’s this very philosophy that made Qimir a Sith Lord after he slaughtered countless Jedi—and his own master.

But you are not a Sith. And for the first time, you feel a deep, visceral fear toward your own daughter—something you’ve never felt before “Alia, this isn’t something a child like you should—”

“I am a woman of the desert,” she cuts in, her tone resolute, her words sharp as a blade. “And this is what every Fremen child does when faced with threats. You should be proud too, Mother.”

You stare at your daughter, stunned by the ferocity concealed within the eyes of this five-year-old girl.

You’ve always known Alia wasn’t an ordinary child, but now there’s something about her that shakes you to your core—something alien, otherworldly, and incomprehensibly vast. In that fleeting moment, it feels as if the emotional bond between you and your daughter has vanished.

She’s not my child. The thought crystallizes in your mind with harrowing clarity. You mutter under your breath, your gaze hollow, “I should have killed you…”

Alia shakes her head slowly, a soft, amused laugh slipping from her lips. “Father said the same thing to you once, didn’t he? But he couldn’t do it.” She stops swinging her legs and locks eyes with you, her piercing blue gaze unsettlingly profound. “And I know you can’t, either. You love me, even if you try to deny it.”

Your throat tightens, dry as desert sand, leaving you speechless—because every word Alia says cuts through to the truth.

That’s when it dawns on you—Alia has become another Reverend Mother, one who transcends the boundaries of past, present, and future. She is a Truthsayer who sees all, who knows all.

Because I drank the Water of Life. That’s why she became this.

The thought invades your mind, and you can’t help but wonder—if you hadn’t made that choice, could everything have turned out differently?

Alia moves calmly, rising from her chair and stepping onto the blood-soaked floor without a moment’s hesitation. She walks toward you, extending her small hand to take yours. In that simple touch, the bond between mother and daughter is reignited, their emotions fusing as one. You feel her thoughts, her emotions, as she feels yours.

“Don’t blame yourself, Mother,” Alia says softly, her tiny hand gently stroking the back of yours. She is unnervingly composed, her presence both calming and unsettling. “You know this was the only choice you had.”

“I just hope I made the right choice,” you whisper, exhaustion thickening your voice.

“I cannot say for sure, Mother,” Alia replies evenly. “But you’ve reshaped history. Humanity will owe its survival to you—and to Atreides.”

History—The word rings bitterly in your mind.

Yes, they will owe you everything. But what value does that have? In the end, your story will fade into obscurity, lost to the sands of time. No one will remember your name. The only trace of your existence will be a brief entry: ‘The last Bene Gesserit who perished on Eiram’

And no one in this vast universe will ever understand the sacrifices you made to save it all.

Footnotes:

[1]An aba (or abayah) is a loose, simple robe worn by Muslim women (and is mentioned in the Dune novels as the traditional garment of Fremen women).

[ahappydnp]

Oh!! What are your thoughts on dinok? I missed that and I never wanted to know something so badly your takes are the best

personal opinions/rambling under the cut/ reblogs turned off for fear of bringing back the discourse

my thoughts are i love daniel very dearly and think he is an incredibly talented writer and storyteller but that this particular story didn't/doesn't need to be told by him

from my personal perspective- i do want to preface this by saying dan revealed the plot of dinok shortly after i personally came out as a lesbian to my long term male partner which resulted in me losing quite literally everything (my job, our shared home, our pets, some friends) smack dab in the middle of lockdown

so for me, i was a bit upset and apprehensive of dan's interpretation of what having a breakdown and coming out as an established (and regular) adult in a het relationship would be like? because the plot was specifically "what if dan howell was never famous and finished his degree and stayed with his high school partner but then had a complete breakdown because he hated his life" (which was LITERALLY exactly my life)

and it's not that i don't trust him with a narrative, it's that i was confused as to why it had to be about him and not an original character. but also let's be honest, dan doesn't know what it feels like to not be financially secure and weighing the options between living your truth or having a roof over your head. he doesn't know what it's like to try and process something so life changing completely alone and the absolute crushing devastation of hurting someone you love in the process

like the concept of dinok would be incredible for late in life queers, but i would absolutely want it to be told by someone who's keenly aware of the emotions and trials that come with it. dan has OBVIOUSLY been through hell, but not this specific kind of hell.

i guess it's just like...if he wanted to make something naval gazey about himself that he was also going to be the star of, why not do something you know? it was just an interesting choice i guess and i would like to know why he chose it. i kind of assumed he'd want to go fully fictional for his traditional media debut?

anyway like i said it's not because i don't trust him with that kind of story or that he'd be malicious or purposefully ignorant, it just would have been a really hard watch for me personally. dan doesn't know what it feels like to come out when there's no celebration or support, he's never sobbed alone in the guest room of his own house because his now ex can't even look at him feeling like the world just ended (for which i am so so grateful, because it should be a celebration and he deserved every single ounce of love he got!!!) ((also i do want to say it is totally worth it and i am so much happier now and genuinely do not regret it, but sometimes it IS the hard part))

ANYWAY dan switch gears and maybe write about anything else that's not "what if my situation was bad lol that'd suck"

[katthedoodlecatcher]

The Raven Boys: mid-twenties reads

I wanted to write down my feelings about my reread of the first book in one of my favourite series' The Raven Cycle. I first read this series at 23, soon to be 24, and it has stuck with me ever since. At the tender age of literally just turned 25, I'm rereading these books because they reignite my belief in the whimsy of life, and that's important in these often chaotic and dark times. Seeing as tumblr is a safe space for me and has a bunch of fellow book nerds on board, here is the first in a series of posts I want to make reviewing some of my mid-twenties reads (and rereads). This is self-indulgent. No I am not sorry.

The Raven Boys - why it still works

One of the reasons I personally love this book, and this series, is because it doesn't over explain its plot. There is no sense that you are being taught something important. Maggie Stiefvater is not constantly letting you know how clever the book is and how impressed you should be with it. The main plot deals with intriguing forays into the world of psychic power, energy and magic, yet the book doesn't hold judgement on whether these are particularly extraordinary things or not. The existence of these elements in the plot are there for you to interpret however you like: magical realism, fact, complete fantasy. It is not telling you how to understand these themes, it's just telling you to listen to a story being told about them. This invites unqiue scope for fantasy and non-fantasy readers alike to enjoy the book for the whimiscial and slightly non-sensical adventure it is.

Maggie Stiefvater has a knack for creating an atmosphere, and the foundations of Henrietta, our story's core setting, are built in this first book beautifully. Lyrical descriptions of Virginian blue ridge mountains, vivid depictions of pathetic fallacy and a finely tuned talent of using little details to paint loud pictures of a place that doesn't actually exist are done incredibly well. Right down to the description of Aglionby Academy (the rich boy private school we have all either heard of or seen in other media), Stiefvater does so much with so little to convey perfect understanding of what the book is talking about and what that setting looks, smells, tastes, sounds and feels like. After reading this book you'll want to visit Henrietta, sneer with Blue at the rich boys at Aglionby Academy and avoid Nino's at all costs (unless attending the joint with the Gangsey). Unfortunately it is a fictional setting only.

In amongst the atmospheric background of Henrietta are its effortlessly intriguing characters. We have the women of 300 Fox Way, all psychics (bar Blue) and all with their own distinct personalities. Persephone's hand slips when she makes cocktails (they are always too strong), Maura does not know how to react to being disobeyed and Calla likes to poke snakes (Ronan) with sticks. We have the four Raven Boys (Gansey, Adam, Ronan and Noah) who all have complex relationships with themselves and each other. We have Blue who is destined to kill her true love by kissing him (not a good thing to put on your dating profile perhaps). How the characters handle complex issues is a huge part of why the book feels especially interesting: social dynamics including class (particularly money) are discussed frequently, and feelings of loss and confusion over individual purpose in life is also touched upon a lot. These characters, their ideas and opinions and relationships with each other, feel complicated in the way real people's ideas and opinions and relationships are complicated. The best part is that, again, not everything is over-explained. We are made to feel as though we are looking in, but we are not given every detail of this group's friendships. It makes everything feel that much more story-like and magical.

Finally, we have the main shtick, the plot itself: the gang are on a quest to find a dead Welsh king. Gansey's brush with death, a whisper in his ear and a lot of helicopter rides have led him to believe it's his destiny to find Gllyndwr. Adam would like a wish granted, Ronan would do anything for Gansey, Noah has a past to uncover and Blue wants to see something otherworldly for herself. Using magical realism, the power of historical intrigue and undeniable whimsy, The Raven Boys makes you feel like you're being taken along on an adventure where at least one of the individual quests will be completed. It makes you want to stick around and find out which it will be.

I'm glad I read this for the first time in my 20's. It makes me feel nostalgic for the reckless and breathless hope you feel when first stepping into your own skin as a young adult. It's such a comfort to read about a world just real enough that you recognise it, and yet magical enough that you leave life behind when you visit it and become braver still.

(If you haven't read The Raven Boys, what are you waiting for?)

[elainsgirl]

I'm so tired of the degree holders that use it to elevate themselves over others. Do they think people without degrees read books and are completely confused at what's going on? Do they think anyone without a degree read acotar and was completely bewildered when Feysand happened? Or thought "damn didn't see that one coming!" when Nessian got their book. "Damn, should've gotten a degree in literature, or... stem (??)... so i could read acotar and actually understand what I'm reading!"

Like, what are they trying to say? If you think you need a degree to understand acotar the only thing you're saying is that your are vastly overthinking things. Even sjm said its obvious. That does not mean "you need a degree in literature to understand where I'm going here". It means "anyone should be able to pick this up because that's what I intended". This isn't high brow literature. Because it's not supposed to be.

Feysand, Nessian and Elriel are all so thematically, narratively and symbolically setup that anyone can read the books and pick up on it if they're not wilfully ignoring or misinterpreting parts of the story. All three, obvious. Without hyperfixated analysis. All three set up over several books and tied to each other and the main plot. Anyone can easily follow the patterns. This fandom is crazy. It has blinded itself to the obvious. If you have to wave your degree around to justify what isn't clear to the average reader, you are vastly overcompensating for something. Might be that lack of canon. But what do I know, I don't actually have a degree (yet). I just read.

I cannot believe there are people out there with degrees in literature that will be surprised when Elain's book is next and when Elriel is endgame. You did that to yourselves. All you and to do was to casually read and it would have been obvious.

Nah because imagine thinking having a degree makes you and your opinion more superior/right then those without degrees. Its rlly a classist, entitled way of thinking. A fandom is made up of a magnitude of people all from different places, backgrounds, ages etc. Some individuals aren’t at a degree level yet, I’ve just finished college and im about to start my degree now in October. Some dont want to pursue degrees, instead taking other paths to reach towards their goals. Some people cannot afford higher education (literally it is so so damn expensive) as education, especially higher education, is unfortunately a privilege. None of that makes their opinion or perspective any less valid then those who hold degrees.

It’s literally embarrassing bringing up degrees or linking degrees with certain ships, *cough* making a poll asking people if they have a STEM degree and which ship they ship and showing how the majority ship gwynriel aka indirectly insulting elriels/elriel by indicating “smart” people ship gwynriel, *cough*. ACOTAR is basic fantasy. Thats not an insult towards Mass, its the simple truth. Everything about acotar is predicatable, it literally follows the same generic formula as other series. Love triangle switch. Trials. Fmc who died and comes back alive w powers. The foreshadowing is blatantly obvious, it is the way it is. Its simple and straightforward. Gwynriels and eluciens overcomplicate everything, they think too much about certain scenes whilst ignoring others. Their interpretations are so contradictory and out of place.

One could fairly argue, that those with degrees overthink too much about the series because when you’re studying at higher levels, complex analysis is expected from you because you’re studying in-depth, intricate stories that have layers of meaning. Acotar is not on par with those pieces of literature, no deep analysis is needed. You dont need to think that much about it because Sjm is a simple writer using generic fantasy & romance formulas. So again, degrees are useless in this case, if you need to bring them up as a way to hold yourself higher then everyone else and make your opinion seem more well-rounded and “valid”, or even make your side seem smarter, you’re honestly just embarrassing yourself.

and its going to be even more telling and humiliating when elriel is endgame. That even with your “degree” you failed at connecting simple dots. Leave degrees out of the conversation all together.

Yes! Feysand, Nessian and elriel all follow the same pattern. Mass isnt doing some ground-breaking, complicated foreshadowing trying to trick her readers. She said it was obvious because it is. Anyone familiar with the romance genre can literally see how elriel follow a generic romance recipe. Its so on the nose - something gwynriel and elucien arent, more so gwynriel because that ship has 0 romantic foreshadowing or even base and before each couples’ book, a romantic base was established.

Im with you on the no degree boat yet Im also constantly reading especially romance books so when I first read acotar, everything was obvious and predictable. It all follows the same steps as other series and books. It was genuinely shocking people doubted Elriel because they had the same set up I’ve seen before in books.

Honestly, bringing up degrees - you’re just digging a hole for yourself because when you’re proven wrong….yh. Its going to be humbling, simply put.

[0aurelion-sol0]

My Arcane Season 2 criticisms:

Things I actually disliked:

How the Hextech plot turned out, I though it was very badly executed especially in terms of Viktor's evolution through the whole show. Lack of proper explanation about what was actually happening, unnecessary and horribly executed twist at the end, clumsy established rules and dissapointing payoff for anyone involved in this plotline. Final battle was cool and I like the Commune's designs but dear god, was this storyline confusing...

Ekko's community plus the tree's state at the end of the show. You really couldn't put a 15 seconds shot of the community being well and tree being ok ?! Seriously I know you had to make choices given it's animation but come on now... It was like one of the main driving points to stop Hextech for him & one of the safe haven of Zaun & Piltover and it's completely shoved to the side but no, we have to see minutes of Loris, Steb and Sky being there just being a representation of our characters' inner conflicts as if them doing it and/or saying it out loud wasn't enough...

Ekko convincing Jinx to not kill herself by telling her what he experienced, Jinx rallying the undercity to protect Piltover & Zaun from Noxus & Viktor and a proper conclusion to Sevika's story regarding all of this. WHAT THE HELL ?! We needed to see this, this is so important & it's completely ignored. IN WHAT world, did anyone think cutting this was a good idea ?! We needed to get a proper closure & development about Ekko & Jinx's relationship which was already thin to begin with. We needed to see Sevika affirm what she truly thought about Jinx and a moment about Isha regarding the two of them even if Sevika wasn't super close to the kid, we needed to see Sevika get to see the Undercity finally rallied together after spending the ENTIRETY of the show trying to do that and see how that whole thing came about for them to fight with Piltover. It is ridiculous to that me that this was cut... It was so important!

Things I didn't necessarily dislike but I have mixed feelings about:

Jayce not getting a single scene with his mom. I know she was there at the end, in the crowd, mourning him but come on, not even one scene with her before the end where she could allow him a form of reflection and comfort before putting his life in danger or after, I don't know... DISSAPEARING FOR WEEKS IF NOT MONTHS! I know you could interpret it as Jayce being so lost on his mission that he forgets about her and her importance but she was one of the reasons they ended up in Piltover in the first place. It's of course not as vital to the story but it could have provided some breathing in this fast-paced season.

Vi's character arc this season. While there are some part that I like, I feel like it wasn't explored as deeply & as fully as it could have been. The foundations are there but aspects like her relationship with Vander, violence and Zaun could have been pushed far more than they were in this season.

Caitlyn's arc and how the most important bit happened off-screen, again, just like with Vi, the parts it would have been better to see or being more developped weren't as much as they could've been. I am not of the conclusion she didn't face any consequences or was let go by the narrative of the things she did, but her coming to terms with her actions happened mostly off-screen and that is a shame because it was one of the more interesting parts of Season 2.

Singed's characterization. Now I understand why he was developed the way he is, in terms of what he represents for Caitlyn and for the show, but I don't think it was as compelling to me to have him be yet another parallel for the themes of the show or being a reminder of them was completely necessary for me. We got it the other times, I understand why, it had it's purpose; I just prefer how evil Singed was in the original lore & the story he had back then. I understand humanizing antagonists & reinforcing the theme of your story but sometimes it's nice having an element that's a bit of an outlier and explore other themes to give some variety to the story.

[misslycoris]

THANK YOU AND GOODNIGHT!

I CAN FINALLY LEAVE! MARTHA I'M COMING HOME SWEETIE

But in all seriousness I thank you all for sticking through Signed, Alastor, there had been times when I was just completely over it and stopped writing and yet through it all your comments really helped on getting rid the annoying effects of writer's block. Stick around if you wanna hear my yappings and a few details about this story in general, or not, it's been great having you guys as my audience either way.

• In an Alternate Universe Somewhere...

Squeaks and George were never even planned right until a few days after the supposed release of this fic. I've mentioned this in the first chapter as a passing comment but I wasn't kidding when I said I wrote eight chapters worth of content about a different plot. It wasn't until a few days before the release of the first episode of Hazbin that I completely scrapped it in favor of the current plot of Signed, Alastor. I was thankful that I did because this was the first fic that I truly hauled my shit together and made a whole ass organizer and timeline chart.

How different was the plot? Basically, the story starts with Alastor meeting the reader again after having them tailor his suit, they were previously close friends and the story's about them catching up with each other. There will be flashbacks that will start from the day they met and until the time they parted ways. During this there will be a lingering thread that the reader isn't truly who they seem to be and the first arc will end with the reveal of who they are and Alastor's death in 1933. I'll tell you guys what it is since I don't have any plans on reviving that story, the reader would be revealed to be an angel and that they died a few years after they got separated from Alastor. Reader saw how Alastor was with his whole murder schtick and wanted to try and dissuade him, eventually culminating in being sent back down to Earth.

It's a bit of a jumbled mess but it doesn't work in the end and they both fall to Hell. The second arc will then start in their afterlife, with Alastor at odds with the reader, I'd say even treat them as an enemy or something similar. They'll eventually work their way back to being friends, maybe something more. So in a way, that part stayed with this story.

I'm kind of grateful I changed it, I adore the current plot and wouldn't be any happier with how it turned out. But who knows? In an alternate universe, I could've continued down that old route.

• My Original Vision of the Story

This was supposed to be a much more lighthearted book actually, it was supposed to have stories contained only within each chapter and maybe like have one plot that connects each of them kind of like how cartoons work, you can go to any chapter and not be confused as to what was going on. It was supposed to be more centered on Squeaks as a person and it's just them navigating through their occupation as a postmaster. Each chapter would be a different adventure and then they would meet the Vees, the Hotel, and it's just random hijinks for the sake of hijinks. I eventually deviated from that as time went on and I just went with the flow as I did.

• Interpretation of Alastor

This incessant, annoying, showy, overgrown Bambi has always been and will always be my favorite. It truly makes me happy when people comment that my interpretation of Alastor is something that they appreciate and think is accurate. Gives my needless fixation on him some use.

Another thing to talk about is his sexuality, I don't have the right to tell people how to write Alastor and I also enjoy Alastor acting out of character and being a fluffy softie. As a bit of a confession, I have a oneshot series that I didn't move into this site that portrays Alastor differently, looking back at it now I'll probably delete a few chapters since I'm starting to regret my choices back then. It was my choice to make his character act the way he does in this fic but I'm not opposed to people taking his character on a different route! Everyone has the freedom to write whatever they want, even if I don't necessarily like it those stories weren't written with my opinions in mind. If you don't like it, don't read it. It's the rule of thumb for fanfiction.

If I have to describe how it feels to write about Alastor it's like trying to walk on a rickety old bridge that'll probably break at any moment. Alastor, who's canonically asexual, possibly aromantic, is an enigma that I lose sleep over every night trying to understand and I bet you he probably would find it amusing. I try to keep both worlds happy, where people who'd prefer to keep Alastor opposed to traditional romance and people who'd like to see him in a more romantic light are both happy with this fic. Optimistic in nature, difficult to execute you get what I mean? Of course this doesn't imply that asexual people can't experience love! It's just that Alastor's a complex character that has a lot of nuances. At the very least I hope I <strong>m</strong>ade something that didn't offend anyone, invalidate Alastor's orientation and identity, or just kept this fic from being weird in general.

But the fact that this is a reader pairing already fails the not-weird plan. In the future I'll just shut up and pick a kind of Alastor to write consistently.

• The Series Itself

I've been in the fandom for over half a decade now and looking back at it I never expected Hazbin Hotel to really make an impact, especially with me being a writer, I have a lot to be thankful of and I'm happy to see the show make it to where it is but I also have my gripes about certain aspects of it.

Do I still like Hazbin Hotel? Sure! I still believe it's a darling little series that started with a pretty strong passion. But the series has its flaws and I can't say it's the best out there. Not to mention ths several instances from both the fandom and its creator that made me want to curl up into a ball and dissolve.

• Will I Be Continuing This Book?

Most likely? I want to make small little special epilogues every now and then but as far as the main story goes this one is already done. I'll also be coming back to edit this book frequently, or as frequent as my schedule allows me to be so look out for that.

• Future Projects

Will there be any other fics after this? Yes! Eventually? Someday? Okay, I may or may not have something already planned but I'll probably hold off until Season 2 comes out. But I do want to start a new fic! I just don't know when it'll be out exactly, maybe it'll be after S2, maybe before, maybe during. I'm not gonna spoil you on the details but it will be about an OP reader since some of you are really vocal about the apparent lack of it.

Although if you're paying attention, you can probably guess what the title of that new book will be.

• A Special Thank You

This is dedicated to all those talented stars that made fanart for this silly little book of mine. These always made me so happy and I still can't believe that so many of you dedicated your time and effort in these lovely drawings.

baezzz-mid on Tumblr

pieofpieee on Twitter/X (couldn't find the fanart but please check them out they're amazing)

cyan-111de on Tumblr

melesmania on Tumblr

song_stat on Twitter/X

aliensketches on Instagram

kattywattyisonhere on Tumblr

If you have the time, go check them out! They have other cool stuff in their pages and deserve all the love we're legally allowed to give. Again, thank you so so so much!

oekakii on Tumblr

And with that, I have nothing else to yap about, it was fun writing this but for now thank you and goodnight! See you on the other side. For any further comments I'll be here, lurking around for a few days or so before I fall off the face of the Earth.

Signed,

misslycoris ♡

[askhezureviews]

We will all know your thoughts on season 2 of HB soon. I don’t know if you waiting was in response to people saying”you have to wait to see the whole season before judging it” but do you think there’s any ever case where this could apply to reviews?

Actually, that is typically what I prefer to do. I like to binge watch media to their completion for a more rounded review. I know my 45+ min videos are annoying to most, I can't blame them since I too have a short attention span- as well as a terrible tendency to waste half the review summarizing the plot (I'm working on fixing that for my future reviews, apologies for that) but I typically prefer to judge things on an overall basis rather than part 1, part 2, episode 12, season 3, season 6- simply for the sake of video cleanliness. The phrase of "wait until it finishes before judging" is a major player for all media. Absolutely the case with Arcane, because season 2 they had an unreliable narrator as well as a structure designed to withhold information from the audience.

The Owl House and Steven Universe didn't actually even... start their plots until their second seasons, they had a very slow start.

I'm also gonna wait for more episodes of Monkey Wrench and The Amazing Digital Circus before making a youtube review, since they're still pretty early on in production. There's a lot of character information and plot we simply do not have yet- regardless, I'm loving what I'm seeing thus far.

The reason I made an exception for Helluva Boss: They already had at least one season established, and episode 1 of season 2 completely changed the storyline season 1 was heading for. You could see an immediate change in storytelling and pacing due to the fact that the writer changed, as well as the show's priorities shifting to focus on the ship pandering.

If I had been watching Tangled the series in real time, I probably would have also made an exception video regarding Cassandra's villain arc immediately because the set up for that was nonsensical, and true to the start, it remained nonsensical to the end of the show. Helluva Boss had problems before, but the comedy genre allowed wiggle room for making mistakes because it didn't take itself seriously. But now that it has dedicated itself as a romantic drama, investing in character angst and connections, it starts dragging on as plotline traumas start repeating and becoming more dramatic. It is now taking itself too seriously.

Changing Stolitz from a business partners with benefits to childhood friend soulmates was a red flag that stood out to me, because this decision changed the trajectory of the show and omit our characters from any wrongdoing. I've never seen a show flatten their characters like pancakes in a single episode before, it was astonishing.

While some of Helluva Boss's season 2 episodes managed to redeem some nice writing or character moments, regardless, this season has continued to end all stakes for our characters through plot armor as well as humiliating the villains they introduced in season 1.

If you have at least one established season for your show, and your writing suddenly: 1. Drastically changes prior interaction & depth of characters 2. Changes the show's trajectory, focus, and genre 3. Presents the above in a nonsensical manner / no believable set up Then that's a red flag to indicate the show is gonna go down hill, as previous fans are now left confused to the sudden change. There's a high probability you'll lose views/support/money because of these changes. While the show may attempt to backtrack in later episodes, as Helluva Boss has, this creates a separate problem of contradicting itself, leaving the audience confused as to how they're meant to interpret these scenes as the tone flip flops every other episode. (and actually leads to more fandom drama)

I've been waiting for season 2 to end because the initial plot change shock was over, as they continued to double down on their decision. As well as my realization that a different writer was actually now on board, which explained a lot. Thus, I want to go back and review Helluva Boss season 1 and season 2 as a whole instead of the episode reviews I was doing, to help put things into perspective for people and actually get to talk about what Helluva Boss did right so I can lead into where it went wrong.

[tizeline]

Happy pride month and all!

I figured now was a good time to ask, but do you have any thoughts about the sexuality of the characters in your Sep AU?

Sorry if you’ve been asked already, and the answer can definitely be no, I’m just curious :)

Happy pride!! ✨

Here's the thing about headcanons about queer identities, I personally prefer to not get too stuck on specific labels. While there are exceptions, I generally try to remain flexible if that makes sense? As in I like having multiple different interpritation about characters' identities so deciding on One Particular Label can feel limiting to me.

I mentioned it before, but I do plan on making Capril an established relationship in the AU sooner or later, so April and Casey are definitely sapphic. But more specific than that? Are they lesbian or bi or pan or whatever?? I dunno!! It's not really relevant to the story so I might as well leave that up to interpretation.

My approach to creating stories is that I'll usually only decide on specific labels if it is plot relevant, Schrödingers Identity if you will, lol, it can be anything if you don't decide on it beforehand. Again, there are exceptions, Leo is gay 100% like duh I can't interpret him any other way XD. Splinter is a Bi-Icon and I will STAND BY THAT!

Raph, Donnie and Mikey? Man who knows, canon Donnie seems to be into girls at least so it's the same in the AU, but more specific than that I dunno, I'm not planning on the story really focusing on romance (aside from a little capril because every story needs sapphics that's like the law)

Actually, you know what I find fun? World building! I honestly tend to be more interested in how queer identities are viewed and treated in a story's world as a whole as opposed to induvidual character's identities. Human society in rottmnt seems to be mostly the same as our IRL society, but what about Yōkai society!? With how diverse yōkai are I think it'd be fun if people in The Hidden City just... didn't care about who you loved or what you identified as. As a result of that, I don't think yōkai would care that much about terminology and labels, you just kinda loved whoever you loved.

It'd be honestly be kinda interesting if Donnie and April used terminology that related to queer stuff and Raph, Leo and Mikey are just really confused. Like for example, April is complaining about one of her classmates who's homophobic and the The Drax Bros are just like "Home-phobic??? They're afraid of homes??" cuz the concept of discriminating against someone based on which gender they're attracted to is completely foreign to them. Actually, Leo might be more knowledgable about human queer culture considering he's interested in human cultures in general. He calls himself gay at one point and Draxum is all like "you're happy? good for you?" and he'd just be wondering why Leo is using such an old-timey word considering Leo doesn't exactly have the most advanced vocabulary.

[eluxcastar]

As I opened my tumblr, just to check if there is new Arlecchino stuff to swallow... lo and behold, I saw your post with the Arlecchino simp tags. Shot me the moment I stepped into the door right there, hahaha! May I request an Arlecchino x reader, headcanon or anything you're comfortable coming up with. The reader is thousands of years old, who got disowned by the Tsaritsa because they declined their performance in greatness for someone else's benefit and saw no worth in her/them. Could be a sibling or a friend, the betrayal stung like a bee since she/they saw Tsaritsa as a mother figure or could literally be the mother (Got kunikuzushi'd in a way, minus the puppet part). So, here's the main part - How Arlecchino would handle that person, when they meet in hostile terms. An accidental encounter, had banters and fights and eventually found strange subtle solace from each other. Could be romantic, or just obsession on Arlecchino's part because we love deranged women pls step on me with your sharp heels - anyway, since Arlecchino is interpreted as someone who won't hesitant to betray the Fatui. On her own benefit, works with the reader to mess and interrupt Fatui operations. I won't include more or else you'd be dealing a whole thesis of it. Hahahah! Good day to you~!

One of Repetition

── ୨୧：arlecchino x reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: in a strange decision nobody quite understood but could not contest, you were dismissed from your position by the tsaritsa herself but allowed to live. you wander for some time, lost and confused, and most notably unable to escape the fatui even when you are no longer associated with them, which means an unwanted letter and an even more unwanted visit from the knave.

୨୧﹑genre :: kinda angsty

୨୧﹑content :: fem reader, reader has a pyro vision, arlecchino has a cryo delusion, reader uses a bow, capitano is not human this time, he's just a plot device too, their previous relationship is implied but ambiguous, implied age difference, reader is most often called by the title brighella, writing this spiralled me into insanity, possibly bad writing, not proofread 

୨୧﹑words :: 13.6k

hehe, I know that Arlecchino simps flock to me once they learn my requests are open. I have no idea why. maybe they're just especially desperate for food, but they linger, and I have a little collection of anons.

don't worry about how much it'll take me, I honestly enjoy writing longer works. anyway, I received a request similar to this some time ago (was it you? I have encountered that before) but haven't gotten around to completing it, so I'll be partly combining the two

here's the other request:

it's gonna provide some stuff for me to follow, and I remember exactly when I got it, so I wanted to include it for the dear anon who sent it

why brighella you may ask well that's because brighella has been described before as essentially Arlecchino's smarter and more vindictive brother and they compliment each other well. I think Arlecchino may also work for Brighella in some versions?? either way it felt right even though they're not really based off of the character brighella, they do share a few traits with him but not fully it's just a fun little parallel

I really did not expect this to be so long that it literally lagged the writing program I was using to save it and I have been staring at this for so long I literally have no gauge on the quality anymore just that it's variable because it took me so long someone send help

Her words left you exasperated, literally at a loss for words, and you struggled to comprehend the reason for it. There was nothing you could think of, no instance that struck you as prominent. Yet, somehow as one of the Tsaritsa's children, you had become what any parent might refer to simply as a disappointment, their failure—the problem child who never quite ironed out their issues. You had always been faithful to her, hopelessly devoted to the archon and her will. News such as this came out of nowhere and struck you like a hammer to the chest.

Two of her most mighty children were near and dear to her, and now the other had turned against you as he remains loyal to her. The Jester, who you once held in high regard, has turned against you. It is a bitter pill to swallow, for you must now sever ties with the one man you believed was truly deserving of serving the Tsaritsa. Your mother— your world— turns against you with him, before him, leading the way for him. 

In vain, you draw your bow to strike an arrow between his eyes, prove your strength and power as above your position, above him, but it means nothing. Your strike is blocked, and the Tsarita's Damselette Columbina moves to detain you. You believe she would not be strong enough, but you don't itch to fight ten other Harbingers. You understand that even you have a limit, and fighting what are supposed to be the strongest people in the country is not a part of that. Your honour is on the line, an honour which would tarnish not only Brighella's name but also have a ripple effect on your soldiers, men and women who fought for you and did not deserve a punishment that would result from their actions.

"Think carefully, Brighella." Columbina's warning is not lost on you, "You could remain as a hero or fight, and I will lure the creature you brought from the abyss and gut him before your eyes."

You do not want that. That creature is not yet loyal to the Tsaritsa but to you, and she will convince him he can save you. He will fall into her trap and die.

You bite your lip, trying to think of a way to escape and capture him so that you can run off somewhere. He does not deserve to die, but you can't think of anything. Not when you know how thorough these people are. There is not a will, really. There is only a has. He has fallen into her trap and is at the mercy of the Damselette. "What if I am to obey?" You finally ask the question you did not want to, surrendering in a way, though the bite has not left your words.

"I'll leave him be." Her answer is swift. She expected that you would eventually give in and only needed to wait for it to happen.

You shake your head, dissatisfied with only that as your compensation. "Not enough."

The smile on her face does not waver, thin and deceitful as ever, eyes hidden and closed, unseen behind the band of lace. "Mm. I can't bargain anything else." 

"Have him take my place." You lay your condition out firmly. There is only one to meet, and not a hard one at that. It would be easy to sway him into it, using whatever they plan to do to you as motivation. His loyalty and affection for you would make him accept it.

She ponders the situation and proposal momentarily, powerless to make the executive decision but undoubtedly keen on the thought of it all. "He believes that you are about to fall in battle to a foe and that he is going to save you."

You grit your teeth, knowing that this is her trap. Lure him to a place. It was not what you had expected, but it is no less the Damselette's style of acting. There is always a damsel, but perhaps she recognised that she would not suffice this time. She needed a better damsel for him to save; for that to work, it needed to be you. 

She needs your name, reputation, your relationship with your subordinate, melding together with her lies to make for a tale of tragedy with him as the hero.

The thought of him rushing to his death under the guise of saving you spikes your blood cold, chilling you. You're aware of her cruelty and always have been, but to experience it is different than hearing about it from her perspective. You are experiencing it from the perspective of the victim. 

His death was another factor to hold over your head, your penance, the anchor to force your compliance. Your blood boils with anger, but you cannot fight. Despite your feelings of anger and frustration, you know that lashing out will only cause further harm and pain.

There is only one thing you can do. You know you must. It's simply that you don't want to. 

But...you must. 

You must for him, that poor creature you tried to give a home to and who would never be in such a position if not for you and your ambition. 

"Then I will fall, and you will use the honour I built into him to persuade him." 

It was an honour meant to humanise him in a way, a being only able to imitate humanity. He had a mentor and something to fight for. Now you're imploring that it be used against him to burden him, but he will do well in your position.

Columbina smiles, that thin mocking smile like she knows the secrets of this world and more. "Would he really believe that?"

The helmet. You should use the helmet to your advantage. Your subordinate's first exposure to humanity, being you, a woman in a metal helmet, seemed to last. He used to think that was what humans looked like, and he admitted as much to you as he had asked you to remove it. Your impression left an indelible mark on him that he treasures to this day. Even if he was to see you in the aftermath, he would not uncover the lie.

"He has never seen my face. He would not recognise me."

Columbina accepts that readily, and her eyes open, pools of black and white visible through the cracks in the lace over her eyes. You've seen them before, inky black sclera and inhuman patterns decorating the borders of her irises, but you can't help the unsettled feeling that makes a home for itself in the pit of your stomach. 

-

By the evening, you are stripped of your honours, titles and coat and dumped to the curb like a bag of rubbish somebody left out. There is no more fight, no more bargaining, no more arguing. Everyone has the things they want, for the most part, so you are all satisfied enough to remain amicable with each other. Without a fight, you allow the Jester to remove the fur-lined overcoat despite the cold that rushes over you once it is gone and discarded in a heap of fur and fabric on the floor with none of its previous value. 

After that comes the slow, deliberate removal of every trinket that denoted you as you. From your delusion, several gifts to your very insignia, the only thing left of you is a lone pyro vision and the clothes on your back. You've never been more thankful to not wear a standard-issue uniform lest you be made to undress and hand that over too.

That was it. Your everything.

With each piece of regalia taken, a part of yourself disappeared until you were left an empty husk of a person, your entire reason for being for hundreds of years snatched out from under you and spat on.

The Harbingers were supposed to be the children of the Tsaritsa, and this was your grand disowning. A show of power and influence over her closest children and, by extension, the ability to bring pain to her less-- to her followers. It was foolish of you to ever think you were special in her eyes for having been by her side since before the Archon War. What did it matter when she left you amongst the rest of them? The years you spent since you had hobbled into her life so tiny and cute were now reduced to a few personal belongings and a set of words that shattered your world to sharp and dangerous pieces that would only hurt you in your haste to reassemble them and string your life back together.

When you were young, your cuteness may have been your best asset: a small body with endearing quirks, the inability to walk long distances without tumbling. In this state, you required her for everything because you would only find danger in the harsh Snezhnayan winters. To even acquire your own food was unthinkable, so you were sheltered and provided with ample treats that you could nibble from the palm of her hand if that were what you wished. Anything to keep you happy and content.

Like a little trinket, she cradled you for as many years as it took you to grow, and once you were at an age you no longer needed to be cradled, she made you her loyal companion, or so you had believed. You thought her affection for you was unwavering. She was the only mother you had ever known; she is the only mother you will remember for all of eternity.

Although it may have been an exaggeration, watching the sun's gradual descent below the horizon, you could almost believe eternity would quickly prove to be a very real concept. You watch the sky darken in silence for a time. You roam aimlessly around the city, your presence still striking unease in the people from the threatening demeanour you learned to conduct yourself with as a Harbinger, even without your official attire. The only remnant of your former self is a helmet you consistently wore during every public appearance. 

You can't help your wandering mind. Did your imitation of the Tsaritsa's actions make you weak? Attempting to nurture someone in the same manner she nurtured you? You are not a god, only the former child of one. Maybe you cannot care for him and maintain your objectivity. It's possible that he has become your Achilles' heel, as you were forewarned when the Tsaritsa less than subtly suggested you eliminate him.

You cannot live like this.

No matter how many suns you watched set, you would never come to terms with it living like this. The world you once knew, which revolved around a singular governing entity and individual, has disappeared without a trace. Without a central axis to anchor it in place, your world spirals chaotically out of control, with each passing second feeling more frenzied than the last. Your head is too muddled, your brain too overwhelmed by your emotions to think objectively of the faults in your time as a Harbinger, years of your life spent that way, burying your thoughts beneath a heavy weight of despair.

You almost want to call them wasted, but that would be wrong. Without the Tsaritsa, you might've— no, would've died during the Archon War. Perhaps another god would take you in, but it is unlikely that they would have exhibited the same level of compassion and generosity as the Tsaritsa. They would not have coddled you into comfort the way she did. Then again, what if that had been your downfall? Did she ever genuinely want you to stay? Based on this...perhaps you took her kindness for granted and overstayed your welcome.

You had no right to make demands of her in your final moments as her child, acting like a spoiled brat throwing a temper tantrum. But can you be justified? Can the threat to your subordinate's life negate that? Surely a bit, but not entirely, not if her actions were in response to yours. 

Oh, even if you begged on your knees, she would not take you back now.

Why had you not done that before?

She must be disappointed that your attitude was born from her compassion, the epitome of her failures. You do not deserve to call her your mother. You took her generosity as a guarantee, thought yourself above her other children solely because you were her first, and believed you were her favourite for no reason besides your own arrogance.

You have failed the only being in Teyvat willing to show pity toward you.

-

The deepest heart of Snezhnayan forest welcomes you readily with open arms and the gnashing jaws of monsters starving for food. The forest seems to come alive with a vicious hunger for flesh. You have nothing but your vision and bow left to aid your defence. Your delusion is gone, and your subordinates are nowhere to be found to assist you. Despite this, marking your way with a trail of bodies is easy. It is just an inconvenience to have to always be on guard, but you are strangely used to it. 

The cold is numbing as the air hits your face, your fingers almost wholly without a sensation of touch and even a tingle in your toes.

You spent many missions that way, tensed and expecting violence at any moment, hardly allowing yourself to sleep, let alone relax. It feels like nothing has changed in that respect, but you know everything has. You cannot hear the large crackling bonfire or the pattering of footsteps in the snow as your subordinates come to join you, their laughter and chatter and their whispers to each other.

There is a stark silence that is deafening to your ears.

-

On the seventh night, you pass through a village on the outskirts of Snezhnaya, where you first catch wind of the news you had agreed on. The locals informed you that they had recently halted their work for half a day in your honour, believing that you had passed away. All of them are completely unaware that as they remark on the death of Brighella, they are speaking to the former Harbinger, who asks about the news under the guise of being a curious traveller. They also strongly advised you against venturing into the innermost heart of the nation. If anyone were to notice the helmet carefully secured around your waist, it might bring unwanted attention to your travels.

Though you were stripped of your insignia, you have your armour, which by some grace had been spared from confiscation. Though a seemingly trivial act of kindness, a sense of pride swelled within you as you gazed upon it. You are glad it is still yours. This armour had accompanied you through countless blood-soaked skirmishes, serving as a steadfast shield against all manner of danger. 

It is at that moment you decide to treat it as a trophy. Though there is no truth to it, you take responsibility for the Harbinger's slaying. Now, the armour which once protected you as a Harbinger will stand as a triumphant emblem of your hard-won victory over Brighella and the end of the Harbinger's tyrannical hold over the land. You know that you will keep it close, treasuring it always as a tangible reminder of the sacrifices you made to reach this pivotal moment. You slayed Brighella. You ended the Harbinger's tyranny.

If you didn't know better, you would think you were getting a little too far into it and starting to believe it yourself.

By the eleventh night, you find yourself situated in an inn, and the nights only carry on from there all the way up to the twenty-second night since your abrupt dismissal and, to the rest of the world, your supposed demise. Already, the whispers that once revolved around Brighella's defeat now shifted to speculations regarding her successor. The question was not necessarily who, but who could possibly? Her brutal reign as a Harbinger had instilled fear in the hearts of all who crossed her path and in the minds of the people, no one else could measure up to her sheer terror-inducing presence. Nobody knows what happened once they dared to fight Brighella until now. She was only the Fourth of the Tsaritsa's children, but she was the most combat-heavy, and no one wished to cross her, except for the rumoured contender for her throne, who was spoken of in hushed tones as nobody was eager to have their reverence for whoever was bold enough to reach the wrong ears.

Your achievements find their place amongst the rumours as people say that Brighella's killer stole her armour and wears it as her trophy.

Despite the slew of gossip that its patrons indulge in, you enjoy the quaintness of this bar made and run by travellers who use it like a pitstop to rest and recuperate. It is a home to them, along with adventurers and merchants who benefit from the atmosphere. The people are strangers, often reserved and eager to keep to themselves, but have immeasurable wealths of information that spill with a few drinks and a group of acquaintances who are, for only one night of pleasure and indulgence, their lifelong friends.

Among those friends buried in your own tankard of cheap ale, you laugh along with their jokes and entertain their questions like a test of your ability to lie and improvise in this tale you're making for yourself. If they have names, you don't know them. Brighella's death was a glorious battle but isolated to the hills where you were alone.

"Brighella was alone, and they were weakened by prior injury. I don't know what caused it." You mix a dash of the speculations in, downplaying your strength a tad as you're unwilling to expose too much of it. "I'm not one to miss an opportunity. When would it arise again?"

One of your new acquaintances scoffs, amused but no less aware of the dangers of doing such a thing. "And make an enemy of the Fatui?" He is a new graduate of the Sumeru Akademiya who's come to make his way through Snezhnaya for a job offer. Reminds you of someone else, minus the graduating.

"They will not miss her." You are quick to answer—too quick, arguably—as it draws a sliver of attention before dipping back under the radar as a product of your confidence. "Her 'head' makes too cute a decoration on my side to pass up stealing it."

"I wouldn't dare say such a thing. Fatuus comes here sometimes." They are the words of a Snezhnayan native raised to worship the Fatui, though he is somewhat disillusioned by their crimes and cruelty, as you've learned many are.

"Let them hear it!" Your laughter is boisterous and unabashed. "They'll see the armour anyway. They probably despise her like everyone else."

Another one of your new friends, a travelling merchant from Fontaine, interjects your ravings to add only a passing comment. It was as she had done all evening, her secrets locked up tight. "She did not make herself likeable."

"She was not meant to be likeable but a fearsome warrior." Again, the Snezhnayan man rebuttals the criticism against her as he had been doing all evening again.

"You don't have to get so far up her ass, Brighella's not gonna crawl out of her grave and thank you for it."

"You're so vulgar."

You plant your tankard firmly down on the table between the four of you, leaning over it to close the distance between you and the man. "I'm not meant to be likeable either."

Forget being only a little too into the role. You're revelling in the freedom of this new identity of yours.

Quick to disperse the tension, your graduate friend changes the topic without a hint of hesitance in his voice. "They left an underling people believe will take their place. It's a surprise to think Brighella had someone who followed them with such...devotion."

"It's strange, but not impossible." The merchant from Fontaine again, contributing nothing you weren't all already thinking.

"Could she have had a sentimental side?"

"Who cares if she had a sentimental side?"

"Upset the attention isn't on you anymore?"

Anger crosses your face, but you stifle it just as quickly as it appears. You wish their attention was off of you, really. The former you, maybe, but you nonetheless. You want to know about your subordinate. What happened to your second in command? You don't care to hear their speculation as to whether you were or were not particularly emotional with your underlings. You know the answers to all of those questions and more without their guessing games.

"Regardless of the reason, they say the underlying is much easier to swallow than she is, so maybe the position of Fourth Harbinger will change drastically if he takes it." 

"Would he really change its purpose if he was so loyal?"

"Unintentionally, perhaps."

God, these people are so dull. Just listening to them, you can tell they know nothing of the ways of the Fatui. Harbingers are not individual job positions with specific parameters. Each role is its own, and they are moulded by the person who assumes them like a character in a play, enchanting and unsettling in a horrific mix of theatrics and violence. It is what they stand for. One does not assume the role and become an actor with a script. They must improvise and act on a whim to the beat of the Tsaritsaʼs drum, their life no longer their own.

They are not whatever these ramblings and poor excuses for speculations make them out to be.

"Terribly misinformed, aren't they?" In your ear is the low voice of the Snezhnayan man holding in his laughter at the two as the scholar and the merchant go back and forth. 

You glance to your left, where he has leaned closer to you. "Repulsively," you respond curtly.

He has a faint glint of satisfaction in his eye as you seem to have confirmed something. "I thought you might've been from Snezhnaya." 

"So what if I am?"

"It was only an observation."

In the background, the main conversation continues, just as clumsy as it was before you had tuned it out in favour of drinking some more. "Does this mean he will also be named Brighella?"

Straightening back in his seat, the man swiftly interjected their back-and-forth responses to explain to them. "They receive a unique title upon their promotion, and nobody knows what it is until then." A simple enough concept to understand.

"In other words, anything but Brighella."

"It hasn't been long enough to know yet."

"It's strange. Nobody knows his name even now."

That would probably be because you never gave him one.

You considered it in the years you spent with him but couldn't find one you liked. His name was inhuman, not for your ears and not for your tongue, rendering it useless to you and every human who would hear it. The night you found him was spent crowded around a bonfire listing off every suggestion you and your subordinates could think of to no avail, as he only sat quietly by your side and said little about any of these choices, finding no familiarity in any of them. That's only natural, you suppose. 

You still haven't chosen a name for yourself that isn't Brighella, either. Your old one is well and truly forgotten, with the years eroding your memories. It had been centuries since you had been called anything else. Evidently, picking names is not your forte. 

"As far as I've heard, nobody knows what it is."

You find the mention of your subordinate has completely ruined your mood. You are grateful the creature is alive but worried the knowledge you're snooping around to find out when he will be promoted could land you in trouble. It's troubling enough to wonder if he has heard your tales through the grapevine about how you had supposedly 'killed' Brighella—his mistress and mentor—which he would not be happy about. Though you did not fear the creature before, now that you've personally trained him to understand human combat, you're not so sure you'd want to fight him. It would be a hassle. Unlike many, you do not fear the inhumanity of the Doctor or the stone wall that's called the Jester. Even the cunning Damselette struggles to do more than unsettle you, but you respect that creature's raw strength and understand that no matter what you do, it doesn't matter. You are confined to a human form, and he is not.

You lied when he said he wouldn't recognise you, however. You don't actually know if he would.

You don't know the extent to which his eyes can pick out the details in your appearance that aren't physical. Had he memorised your relative build? Your height? The way you carry yourself and your mannerisms? The thought unnerves you, but so does everything else about him.

"I'm turning in for the night." Without regard for the ongoing conversation, you declare your intentions and abruptly shut down whatever is being said at the time without much care for it. Whatever it is, it isn't important. Your unfinished drink is left behind as you make your way to your quarters.

In retrospect, you understand their eagerness to merely cover up the circumstances of your dismissal. For a Harbinger as feared as Brighella, it is easier to halt work for a mere half-day rather than attempt to contain the resulting fallout of admitting one of their own was inadequate while simultaneously preserving their tenuous hold on power.

-

Months pass before there is talk of the crowning of a new Harbinger, the people abuzz with the news and eager to know all they can, preferably before the aristocrats feel like sharing the night of the event. You considered attending the ceremony but ultimately decided against it. You may have the courage to do so, but you are certainly not stupid enough to wander into the waiting heart of the Fatui's clutches. You have waited patiently for this moment and can easily wait longer to hear the news.

No longer treating the inn like a home, you settled somewhere in the plains of another nation only a few weeks after you had first arrived there, sensing the barkeep was getting sick of you and the attention you were drawing to his otherwise obscure establishment. 

People settled there for a night, saw you were there, and word of mouth as they boasted of their encounters with you lured others who came to see you. While this influx of new customers certainly provided a boost to business, it also had the unintended consequence of driving away those who preferred to keep a low profile and valued its place as being for those 'in the know'. In other words, while you were great for a boom in business, you were bad for long-term business. 

The barkeep pushing the mora you tried to pay him to pay for another night was enough to send the message he wanted you gone, out by morning. The idea you were not to come back for quite some time was clear to you in the look he gave you.  

Liyue, on the other hand, is filled with mountains and teeming with visitors who have come to witness the highly anticipated Rite of Descension. Surprisingly, the influx of tourism only adds to the overall enjoyment of your experience. You would think that tourism would hinder your time there, but completely contrary it makes it better in a way. The locals are expecting an influx of outsiders to come to see the Geo Archon in person, and, as a result, they are not only willing to hire help for the time but also serve later at food stalls, and the place is livelier. 

People notice you less as you blend into a crowd of people who don't belong, and you slip under the radar.

You have no interest in the Rite of Descension nor the Geo Archon, and most of your time is spent outside the Harbour.

Wangshu Inn is still within Liyue but at a considerable distance from the Harbour, a mid-point between there and the border to Mondstadt. It is quieter, which is neither good nor bad, and home to some very understanding owners who ask so few questions it almost alarms you. Nonetheless, you crave respite from the chaos and theatrics you were revelling in as a reprieve from the stress you were under, wondering how you would live your life now. At one point, you relished being hailed as a hero by many, but it soon became overwhelming, and you found yourself trapped in the clutches of Brighella once again.

Whether by design or happenstance, your identity had begun to consume your life again, and if you wanted to have any hope of living outside of Brighella, then that had to stop. And so, you sought out a place to lay down your burdens and unwind, leading you to where you are now.

You arrive your old self, and despite clinging to it since your travels had begun, you remove every piece of your armour for what you intend to be a long time and leave it all neatly arranged for when you eventually return to it. You feel compelled to finally don the fresh outfit you acquired during your journey through Fontaine. Admittedly floor-length dresses and extravagance are not your style after years of being cooped up in a heavy suit of armour, but there's something alluring about trying out a new look, especially when it involves pants that don't weigh more than a third of your body weight. Besides, you always kind of liked them anyway, just...not yet. Now seems like a good time to dip your toes in.

You almost don't recognise yourself when you finally see yourself in the mirror. Perhaps you got too used to seeing a metal helmet staring back at you and a suit of armour for a body, but the fresh air against your skin and lighter clothes feels...good. 

For the first time in a while, you feel free.

The new outfit is making you giddy, too giddy for your taste. You don't recall having such an innate pep in your step, only one that felt deserved, but this different. While you typically associate a sense of satisfaction with having earned it through hard work or perseverance, this newfound exuberance seems to come from just existing in your new clothes. You are happy just because even if there is nothing to feel happy about. It's as if the simple act of wearing them has given you a boost, despite not having accomplished anything significant. It doesn't even seem like you made much progress toward becoming yourself when you lay it all out on paper. You bought clothes and wore them, that's it. 

Something about it feels so much like yourself. The freedom to stray from what you thought you were until now, something you hadn't dared to try before.

One thing you like about Wangshu Inn is how it serves even people who aren't staying there. The ground floor overlooking the water is designated as almost a kind of restaurant. People filter in and out to be served, stay for lunch, meet with friends, and take breaks from their missions. It is meant as a place for travelling merchants, but you find that is not all its patrons see in it.

You are not nearly as sociable as you were in the Snezhnayan bar you were at, but this seems more manageable anyway.

"If you've come looking for work, the Adventurer's Guild may have a place for you." A suggestion from a merchant who struck up an idle conversation with you for some reason sticks with you. You can't say why, but you imagine a product of boredom.

"They accept anyone?" Your surprise is evident in your tone, as you thought they might have tighter restrictions.

Just as in disbelief fact as you are, he shrugs, "As long as you've got enough power to back yourself, a friend of mine said they'll accept anyone."

That sounds far too good to be true, at least for your taste. "And it doesn't matter where you come from or where you go?"

"Adventurers are known to get restless in one place for too long."

"I see, and you can just go up a--"

"Excuse me, miss." You don't remember hearing that voice, but you recognise the attire when you turn your head just enough to be met with the sight of a cicin mage standing before you impatiently awaiting your attention. The top half of her face is concealed, as is customary, but there's no mistaking the unkind smile that tugs at the corners of her lips as you meet her gaze.

Has she come for retribution? 

Despite your fears of having to make a mess, the woman reveals a letter that is sealed with wax and extends it towards you, expecting you to receive it sooner rather than later as she waves it slightly as a form of incentive. "From the Damselette," she adds.

"What could the Damselette want with me?"

"Perhaps a warning." The words slip by, quiet but noticeable, immediately catching your attention. You raise an eyebrow at her. She's slowly unveiling her contempt at your presence; you're very aware of that fact. You are not familiar with her. It is unlikely that she ever worked under your command. However, it is possible that she might've held a certain level of regard, which has since turned to hostility as rumours of her arrogant killer run rampant. "I don't know. I'm not privy to those things."

Your eyes glance over her from head to toe in thought, scrutinising her for any indication of where her animosity came from. However, there is nothing that gives away her motives. You break your gaze away from her and glance down at the letter in your hand. "I suggest you get a better hold of your tongue. They don't like it when you're rude to their guests."

Her smile does not waver. "You are not a guest." She states that fact with glaringly false politeness.

"Everyone who recieves correspondence from a Harbinger is a guest."

You suppose you can't fault her disdain when all is said and done.

From somewhere tucked away in her clothing, she pulls what appears to be a knife from your peripheral vision and points it at you, but you look up to find it is only a blunt letter opener balanced in the palm of her hand, waiting to be picked up.

"I was ordered to stay until you had read the letter to deliver her your response."

Just as she believes you are a murderer, the letter addresses you as such. Your lies have reached her ears. Moreover, she is playing along with them.

You expected threats and unfair deals, but it is only an update on what is happening regarding your position, the reassurance that they have not violated the terms of the agreement made. A half-hearted apology and an excuse. Preparations set them back, supposedly.

While you imagine preparing not only a funeral but a ceremony to announce the next Harbinger does take time, it would not take this much time with how prepared they were to kill you off in the first place. It was a planned betrayal.

It just looks better if they don't appear so prepared.

For whatever reason, perhaps your consolation prize for enduring her shameless lies, she shares a secret with you. As you casually scan the letter with little care for its contents, your attention is immediately drawn to the heart of the matter. It's the very subject on everyone's minds and all that anyone speaks of. 

Il Capitano. His name is Il Capitano.

Personally, you would not have picked it, but that does not mean that you hate the name. Quite the opposite, in fact, as you have to admit that when you envision the name paired with his face, it suits him well. She ends the letter promising that she will 'take good care of him', though you know that your respective ideas of those words do not align or even coexist in the same universe. There is an unmistakable discrepancy between her intentions and your own, and you don't like it.

"Come back to us, Brighella. You can watch everything you wanted in person."

-

You won't go back. It's a trap.

Irritated, you find yourself back in the heart of the country where nobody lurks, haphazard in the way you fire your arrows at every creature that dares to disturb your sense of peace. It's hard to focus, and you don't bother trying. Liyue is not the same as Snezhnaya, with open plains broken up by rocky mountains. The creatures are mostly the same, and all die the same, hilichurls and geovishaps running rampant and shot down into piles of meat and rocks.

It doesn't matter how loudly you shout, as there's nobody around to hear it. You could scream, cry, and throw a tantrum all you want, and it won't matter. Even if you throw yourself at the ground and bang your head into the dirt, nobody will see it.

This is all pointless. You will never escape. It will never matter how far you roam or how fast you run.

Why did you think you could? Had your brain melted from your head?

There is no other side. There is no salvation. You are owned from the day you're brought in until the day you die, but why? Why did they want to bring you back to Snezhnaya? What was the point? You are out of the way now, hardly causing trouble for them. Despite this, everything seems to be running smoothly, even with the liberties you have taken in your new role. Was that it? The reason they wanted you to see?

It must be. There is no other reason to risk exposing the lie otherwise. Unless it was to tarnish the Fatui's reputation.

You refuse to believe it is something as innocent as wanting to see your request honoured. Nothing is innocent within the Fatui, not an action without hidden intentions or motives. Centuries of watching their misdeeds from the inside, which always go unpunished and unchallenged by anyone except the powerless commoners, have taught you that there is always an ulterior motive lurking behind their actions.

Not to mention it came from Columbina.

You must've spent three days out there before finally returning to Wangshu Inn, dirtied by the elements and craving something to eat, like a child's insatiable desire for sweets. The dead of night provides a cover for you to take a dip in the water beside the inn in an attempt to rinse the dirt and sweat off of you. It dawns on you that your new clothes would've been ruined if you hadn't had the foresight to change before venturing out again. In that moment, thoughts of the Fatui and the memories evoked by your armour flooded your mind, and you didn't want the same thing to happen to the clothes that had made you so happy from the moment you put them on.

It feels childish how you cling to these things.

A part of you just can't help it, torn between holding onto the memories that define who you believe yourself to be and starting anew with a clean slate. Neither can win. One is stuck on the past and what little you have of it, and the other wants to abandon all of that and start completely fresh.

The half-compromise you are trying desperately to make work by accepting that what's gone is gone while keeping your armour close to your heart is obviously not working. The thought of discarding it pains you too much to actually do it, plagued by the urge to melt it down to scrap metal while also being overwhelmed by the knowledge you will regret doing that as soon as you see the mess that would be left of it.

Your new clothes make you happy, so you need more new things to make you even happier, right? If new means you glean happiness, then more new is what will help you move past all of this deliberation in your head.

Clothes were a given, and...maybe a haircut? Yeah. You should try cutting your hair and decide on a name for yourself that isn't Brighella. Something you want, a name you like, that you can look at yourself and see that person reflected in a mirror. The person you think you are supposed to be when you look past the expectation that has been instilled in you.

That merchant you spoke to mentioned the Adventurer's Guild might have a place for you. What if you should be helping people instead of hurting them? What if you only did that to please the Tsaritsa?

In the background of your thoughts, you walk yourself back to your room at the Wangshu Inn and collapse onto your bed, thinking. Though you are exhausted, you cannot bring yourself to sleep for one reason or another. You make excuses for yourself just to ignore the glaring root of the problem you know is there but refuse to acknowledge. The problem isn't really how hot or cold the room is or the texture of your blankets and how much you dislike the humidity in the air. Something else entirely is keeping you from rest.

Your hair isn't the problem either, or your clothes. Even your lack of a proper name really doesn't bother you. They're only the illusion of change you're using to cover up how truly lost you have become now that you have to think for yourself.

How long have you been alive now? Centuries at least. You can't even live independently after that long? No. No, you can't.

You are so lonely, you are lost, you are confused. You need company, you need guidance, and you need purpose. How are you supposed to live? Where is the person who will tell you what to do every day? 

You have to make that choice yourself? You can't do that. You've never done that. 

The thought of even something so basic scaring you so severely brings you to a weakness you never realised you even possessed. Fear surges through the very depths of your being, an unfamiliar sensation that you find unsettling. You don't like it, but it's an impossible feeling to push down and ignore. Over the years, you had quietly collected your shortcomings into a neat little jar and pushed it aside, out of sight, away from your conscious thought, as if pretending you were invincible. 

What would you have done if you had gotten to Capitano? Make him decide?

He can't. He's not human. He doesn't know enough to decide. You've only made him just like you, a fearsome man until he's abandoned and vulnerable like you have become, and then he'll be pathetic and helpless too.

Nothing came out of any of your efforts, did it? It couldn't have possibly. Even with every attempt you made, it was always doomed to fail.

-

It turns out that the Adventurer's Guild was more than happy to take you in, in a way. They put you right to work. It helps to take your mind off of things if nothing else. It's mindless work, able to tune out everything in your brain and run on auto-pilot. You take to this life so well it scares you, completing your tasks with so little trouble you wonder how this isn't more popular, even if some are arguably unnecessary. If only you were good at proper cooking, you might get rich from the tens of requests for certain dishes. 

You're irresistibly drawn to the combat, right back to the heat of battle where you feel truly alive. In all you've had to question, your love for the thrill of fighting has never been up for debate. You're unsure whether it's the adrenaline or something else, but you don't care to know, either. You don't concern yourself with such questions. It's not important to you why, so long as you find comfort in it. It's the one thing you cannot be robbed of. 

A hard day's work is always rewarding.

"Make sure you be careful today." A fellow adventurer is quick to catch you before you can wander off for your next quest, smiling and unbothered despite his words. You've never met him, but he speaks as if you have.

Something about the bond of adventurers is so reminiscent of the Fatui.

You turn back to place your full attention on him rather than the grilled tiger fish you had acquired out of curiosity about the taste. "Why's that?" You're not too bothered, expecting him to tell you that it's dangerous out there, the Abyss Order existing and all.

"The Fatui are restless."

His words catch you off-guard, light in tone as they are. In outward appearances, he's mostly unbothered, while the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

You try to grasp your bearings just enough to speak. "They don't do that for fun." Something about it is just as shaky as you expected, unable to fully mask it, but you figure he'll blame it on nerves.

"Harbinger, apparently." He doesn't draw attention to your demeanour, so neither do you.

"Which one?"

"Dunno."

It's probably Columbina. Maybe you pissed her off when you shot the messenger. Yeah, she probably wouldn't appreciate that. When you did it in a fit of anger, you expected her to find it funny after coming to your senses.

"Hey. Something wrong?"

You startle as you realise he had been speaking that whole time, and you just weren't listening.

"Sorry?"

"I said it's weird that they'd be up and about so soon after the newest was officially promoted."

You deadpan a little, realising it wasn't something of actual value, just a misconception that the greatest powers that be in Snezhnaya aren't spiteful enough to hate each other just as much as they hate everyone else. "Not really. They're not particularly sentimental."

"They don't even care to go out drinking for their own?"

"They hardly know how to tolerate each other." You realise your slip of the tongue too late, seeming too familiar. That's a problem. He barely draws attention to it, only making a strange face.

"Well, whatever the reason, work doesn't stop for them."

In silence, you agree and continue your day as if you really believe that.

-

As you wrap up your work for the day, you feel a sense of pleasant exhaustion wash over you. It struck you as strange that nobody was out in the wild, even the usual fatuus you avoid. Something about it was uniquely eerie. It dawns on you why he came to the conclusion that the Fatui were 'restless'. They must have retreated into the city to prepare for the impending arrival of the Harbinger destined to disrupt the small peace you had found. The sudden influx of fatuus in Liyue would make it seem like they are increasing in numbers nationwide when in reality, they are just moving.

You're not going to let it bother you for now.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you know you have promised yourself that repeatedly and have found it to be a lie, but you mean it this time. You're familiar enough with the workings of the Fatui to know that they don't like to leave sectors alone for too long, and Liyue had spent a fair time before your dismissal unchecked. 

Even at night, you remain unbothered when you wander Liyue for a time, looking for something to do and notice what he was talking about.

Many of them are fussing more than usual, meaning that chances are it's too late to inhibit the process of this Harbinger arriving. You could turn tail and run, scurry off to the other side of Teyvat and settle in Fontaine or even Natlan, but you like it here.

You sit in the heart of Liyue, listening to a speaker tell his stories. You know you shouldn't linger, but you tell yourself you can for just a little while longer. It reminds you of the past, filled with Liyue legends you remember hearing about as news at the time they took place. The fact these tales are now old enough to be suitable for a speaker's recitation as 'legends' is a grim reminder that maybe you're older than you realised. Your early life is now from the time of legends. You can push that feeling aside to focus on the nostalgia of hearing these stories.

Beside you, you hear the chair move but don't budge from looking to see who it is, assuming that all other chairs are taken or that it's an adventurer who got curious, possibly even the man you had spoken to earlier about all of the Fatui--

“Reminiscing, Brighella?”

You recognise both that voice and that name and go stiff, eyes finding her before your head can even turn in her direction.

In front of you—or rather, across from you—the Knave sits upon the other chair at your table as if she was always supposed to be there, seemingly at ease, but you know better than to assume her guard is down. Arlecchino has always had an icy composure, though she can be hot-headed at times and can lose her temper when provoked. It's not surprising that she was able to track you down, even without knowing what your face looks like.

She turns to you leisurely, unhurried. "I came to look for you since you missed the ceremony." It sounds like a greeting the way she speaks those words. You suppose it is one, really.

Ah, maybe you should've been worried after all.

You try to play off your emotions as if you're completely unfazed by her presence. It's the only way to maintain some semblance of control. "Did Columbina not like my gift?"

"Oh, she rather enjoyed it." Arlecchino maintains a similar composure, knowing approaching you in public means employing subtlety as much as it means she's less likely to be attacked. "She felt it was just the kind of gift you would give."

"I try my best not to disappoint." Your response is less enthusiastic than you might like, a hint of nervousness infesting your brain and refusing to budge.

Despite this, she doesn't notice, not outwardly. Really, that means nothing, as you are very aware of how good her poker face is. "Il Capitano hasn't stopped speaking about how much he'd like to kill you. You don't want to disappoint, do you?" When you were waiting for her to speak, those weren't the words you expected to hear, but somehow you're not fully surprised either.

"I see, so my lies reached even his ears." 

You thought as much.

"I think you'll be quite surprised when you see him." Her reply is so cocky that you almost scoff at her.

"Who said I would be seeing him?" You try to match the audacity she had to make such a remark.

She turns to you rather casually for the words she speaks, an odd tone you can't quite place, lacing her words half like mockery. "You miss him, don't you?"

It's that question that makes you snort and turn away as you realise that her negotiation and persuasion skills are abysmal for such a cunning and intelligent woman. "Not enough to become foolish enough to trust someone whose title denotes them as dishonest and untrustworthy." You always wondered about that, really. "A name like 'the Knave' really isn't subtle."

"Funny." She doesn't laugh or even smile. "I believe yours was something close to 'bother'."

You lean back in your chair, testing it slightly as you push the front legs off the floor as a means of entertaining yourself through this frankly dull conversation. "Then I suppose we're both living up to our names."

She remains silent for several seconds, pondering her next words. You can see her fingers rub against the wood of the chair as a distraction. 

"The others told me it was pointless to try to bring you back."

"They were right."

"You won't come back for any reason?"

"I know a trap when I see one."

"Of course."

Silence, again. You don't care to break it, either. You came to hear the stories, and you really would like to continue that rather than listening to her voice, but she's not making it easy.

"Is that all now?" Your voice shows your impatience more than you might like, but you realise it may work in your favour if she senses she's annoying you.

For the first time in a while, she smiles faintly to herself. "For now. Your answer is abundantly clear." She appears to concede, if only for a little while

You let the chair land back on all of its legs and lean your elbow on the table. 

"Are you going to get out of that chair?"

"No."

"And why is that?"

"It's comfortable."

The urge to roll your eyes brims in your mind, but you stop yourself. You don't want to give the Knave the satisfaction of knowing something she is already well aware of. Besides that, you don't want her to know that you really don't want her here in any capacity. Arlecchino's presence is never a good thing.

You let out a tentative breath as you consider your next words quite carefully. The wrong thing might have Arlecchino never leaving you, and the right one might drive her back to Snezhnaya if you're lucky. You shift your whole body to face her. "You just arrived from Snezhnaya, I take it. What do you want to eat?"

She eyes you suspiciously, scrutinising you for any sign of trying to fool her into consuming poison or making herself sick. "You're feeding me now?"

You pretend you don't notice her intensity. "Well, you're not leaving. It would look strange for me to order food for myself."

Again she smiles to herself, a light mockery that's cautious and testing, easing herself into accepting your offer. "I wasn't aware you cared so much."

"You could starve if you'd prefer." You turn away as you speak and don't look back, shifting yourself back in your seat to be front-facing.

There's a quietness between the two of you, both waiting for the answer to your proposal. You have an inkling Arlecchino will accept, but you don't know with her. She never seemed especially pleased by the times the Jester would convene you all over meals and such, ending up in fights and bickering. She never fought with you, however, so perhaps it's different. 

"Order whatever you like."

You find yourself looking intently at a list of the options on the menu. It's quite a lengthy list. "Mm..." Even though it's just a false invitation and you're doing it to be courteous, you can't say you aren't enjoying the thought of picking out a meal and sharing it with her. Despite your removal from the Fatui's affairs for some time, you'd be lying if you thought you weren't at least a little curious. "Jade Parcels...and maybe Jade Fruit Soup? But Dragon Beard Noodles sound good too..."

Becoming slightly irritated by your indecision, Arlecchino looks across the table to where you are sitting deep in thought. "Is it that complicated of a decision?"

You spare her only a glance before returning to looking for something she would enjoy. "I have to pick something you'll like, don't I?"

Soup is more challenging to share than noodles are.

With that, your decision is made, and you settle. Despite yourself, you are somewhat restless in thought. Arlecchino's lack of contribution is slightly frustrating, but it sounds like she'd be content with anything. You're not sure if your choice is the correct one, but you believe you picked something to the best of your abilities that is easy, even to a foreign tongue. As far as you know, Arlecchino is from Fontaine. You've never eaten like this with Arlecchino to know her tastes or dietary restrictions.

"Jade Parcels and Dragon Beard Noodles. Sound good?"

"It'll do."

"Good. I'll go order it, then."

Arlecchino must be surprised that you returned, as she doesn't seem too thrilled. She never really does, but there was a disappointed glint in her eye right up until you walked in front of her to get to your chair. 

It continues until you get the food, and Arlecchino finally stares at it with an overwhelming sense of dread, left with an intense feeling of apprehension regarding whether. You appear not to hesitate, though this arrangement isn't quite what she had expected. Arlecchino had thought you would order enough dishes that you wouldn't have to share, but you seemed to understand it in a way that meant you would be eating from the same bowl.

You notice her hesitation almost immediately, yet your vexation with her arrival makes you unwilling to acknowledge that you know the reason, a deliberate miscommunication on your part. "Mm. I didn't think this through." Your words seem to make her perk up as if you will free her from her awkwardness by asking for another bowl. "You probably aren't used to using chopsticks, are you? Not many dishes that need those back home."

She knows you're toying with her, that sweet smile from across the table hardly hiding your true intentions. Arlecchino waits, watching to see what you will do next, as she looks back at you with a scowl. 

Her eyes do not leave you as you wordlessly collect a Jade Parcel and present it to her like you are patronising her with this action. Your feigned kindness, this supposed benevolence of you offering to feed her like a child, no doubt hoping she'll back down and excuse herself completely. 

She won't let you do that and have the satisfaction of seeing her back down. She won't allow you to break her facade of acceptance.

Though you circle the food in front of her slowly, only a motion with your fingers trying to convince her or make her as uncomfortable as possible, Arlecchino continues to stare for several more moments. Eventually, she musters the courage to relinquish some of her pride.

Arlecchino leans in slightly, just enough to open her mouth and take a bite from the food you hold out for her. Despite the circumstances that led to this moment, she can't help but acknowledge your good taste. Arlecchino couldn't possibly eat another bite that way, though. Not being fed by the woman who is now her adversary just to avoid her 'winning' in the situation, but admitting she is willing to let you get under her skin is not an option either.

She must treat this situation differently, as if you are merely feeding her out of obligation to her rather than because you have your own motives.

It hardly stops her from enjoying her portion of the meal from the chopsticks you share with her. At some point, it finally occurs to her that you only hold one pair, leaving her set untouched despite feeding her. You had been feeding her with the same set you ate with the entire time, and while you were well aware of that, it hardly seemed to alarm you as much as it alarmed her.

Your biggest disappointment was being unable to get rid of her that whole time, watching her readily accept whatever you tried to use against her. Watching a Harbinger practically bow their head and obey you, however, fuels your consciousness. It's like eye candy to think back and realise you did that.

It's another one of your quiet defiances against the Tsaritsa. You wonder how far you can take it.

As you stand from your seat, you stretch your arms above your head until you hear a faint pop as all the tension in your back relaxes. "I don't imagine you'll be leaving anytime soon."

"No. I have plenty of business outside of you." It's not a lie. She's got a lot to do in Liyue even without your presence, but you're a priority. 

You lean back over your chair, a mischievous little look on your face. "Do tell."

"You know that I can't do that." She's not amused by the attempt, either.

You straighten back to your usual height and brush it off in moments. "Unfun. I thought your loyalty to the Tsaritsa could be won over easily." 

She scowls. "Not by you."

"I see. You have standards after all."

She chooses to ignore your comment. Up until now, you have had quick-fire conversations, sometimes interrupted by a silence that drags on. This is no exception.

"Capitano truly believes you are dead." Arlecchino realises when she has caught your attention, and that time is now. She notices how your head tilts towards her ever so slightly, and your head raises. "For a time, he grieved, but it didn't last long. He has become fixated on the idea of revenge ever since he heard that Brighella's killer was running around boasting about their achievements with the authentic armour to support their claims."

Suddenly it makes some small amount of sense in your mind why they would want you to come back exactly. Capitano won't stay put forever. If he's stuck on vengeance, he won't rest until he exacts it. You weren't thinking about how much your stories would piss him off at the time.

When you spend an extended period of time silent and seemingly disinclined to answer, Arlecchino continues. "I want to show you to him."

You have subjected him to human emotions he's not equipped to deal with. Rightfully, you feel horrible like more of your failures are being wrenched from your corner and dumped out into the open for all to see. It doesn't matter that you're in Liyue, where nobody knows the two of you. You don't want them to see either. 

"He wouldn't want to see me." You don't think she really wanted to hear those words when you finally speak. Her expression gives it away. "He should enjoy his position without my interference. I've ruined his life enough."

"You've given him power and status, he should be grateful for that--"

"No. He shouldn't." You don't even wait for her to finish. She hasn't even realised it yet. Not the way you've been forced to. That power is a detriment, not a blessing. Why should he want that? "I thought that way as well, but now I…I don't think my choice was the correct one."

Arlecchino was not expecting to evoke your vulnerability, shallow as it may be for now. "What choice?"

"To bring him back from the abyss." 

From a purely objective perspective, taking in Capitano was the cause of everything. Arlecchino presumably thinks of it in the way you don't want her to, that you regret taking him in because he ultimately ruined everything for you, causing your world to fall apart. You don't. You wish you hadn't dragged him down with you.

Now Capitano still dealing with the consequences of your choices. He was perfectly satisfied where he was and would've remained that way had he not been caught up in your plans. It was your arrogance that made you think Capitano would prefer to come with you. At no point in your first interaction had he indicated he was displeased in his circumstances, only hostile because humans were so close to him. It is an understandable thing, considering that humans were a foreign concept to him and potentially posed a threat.

"Because he overtook you?" 

There it is.

Despite her words, she appears to have dropped her irritated expression and the impatience in her words and actions. You are finally speaking, and she won't lose that opportunity to an avoidable break in her temper.

"No. No, nothing like that." You try to find the words to explain it, even knowing she likely wouldn't understand it in her current position. You doubt she could ever comprehend it with how she treats her loyalty. "It's more like… Off the record, though I was cherished for many years, even I eventually became disposable. I have left Capitano in the hands of the person who caused that, and now I have damned him to the same fate."

Arlecchino is silent in thought, mulling over your words with great care. The tone of the conversation shifted right under your noses, and with it, so did her demeanour. She became relaxed in a way, though you imagine no less guarded than she always is. "I fail to see how your performance declined. In fact, you are more necessary now than you have ever been."

"I see." In your head, that means she's on your side to a degree. "So you believe that my termination was a mistake?"

"A grave error at best." Her words only confirm the way you thought of it. "Even if you had declined in performance, the people have begun to question more than ever, which sabotages the political landscape of Snezhnaya for those who care about it, the same people who stood idly by while you were ousted. Those who oppose the Fatui are pushing the notion that we must be weaker than we appear, because if even Brighella could die, then what does that say for the rest of us."

Though you wish you could say that concept was inconceivable, the idea that those fighting for reform would seize upon your demise as a means to spur change. It's not shocking that everyone else has been called into question, either. Though it is easy to push the role of frontrunner onto the Director, his duty is mainly administrative, as is the case with many high-ranking positions. His wrath is quick and brutal, and sparse. Dottore is too busy with his disgusting hobbies, and Columbina must remain in the light as a figure they can cling to. That leaves the position of Fourth as the one who is publicly the most violent and ruthless, which used to fall to you.

"I see. Is that why they want me to come back?" You don't expect an honest answer as you ask that question, half anticipating another play at your heartstrings.

"No." 

Frustratingly, she doesn't elaborate.

"I'll only agree to return if Capitano is free to do as he wishes."

She scoffs, somewhat returning to her brash attitude. "Even if I could make that decision, we're well past the point where that's a possibility."

You know that she's correct in that.

Still, you can't stop the sight you let out. You knew the request was wonderful in theory but inconceivable in practice, but asking never hurt anyone. "Then what do you want from me? I take it that though I'm only a stagehand, my part in the theatre is not yet over."

"Is that how you see it?"

"Answer my question."

"Execution."

You pause at her answer.

"Execution?"

You're not even sure you heard her correctly. The execution of who? Brighella has already been put to death, and Capitano has barely warmed his seat among the Harbingers. Nobody left in this is worth killing, given the precarious nature of the Fatui's support in the aftermath of Brighella's murder. It was already unstable, and now things are just worse, with no better word to describe.

You doubt they made the decision lightly.

"Execution. Your execution for the murder of Brighella and crimes against the state."

Your nerves instantly spike again, and your guard is higher than ever. At any moment, you could need to draw your bow and fight her because even though you're unsure of how to treat this life, you're not ready to give it up. No foe has scared you before, and neither will the prospect of rebuilding from square one.

"I see, so you've come to extradite me."

"You read my intentions horribly. I'm impressed you managed to make it so far like that."

You furrow your brows in annoyance. "Then what?"

"The values of the Fatui no longer align with mine." The assertion draws your attention more than anything else. You have always been aware that she is unconcerned with the ideas of loyalty and honour, which you can't fault her for. Abiding by the code of honour the Tsaritsa instilled in you left you here.

You may be completely wrong, but she was so vague and doesn't seem to be waiting to say anything else. "Is this your way of telling me you're deserting the Fatui?"

"No."

"Then what?"

"You so happen to be someone I like." 

You're startled by that as well. As far as you were aware, the decision to do nothing in the face of your dismissal was unanimous. You thought Capitano was your only remaining ally. Even if she's the lowest ranking, that is not indicative of power in an objective sense but of authority. In a sense, she is the new 'you' of the Harbingers, as she always was to a degree. 

Blame for the disorder is shifting in your absence to her.

"Because I cleaned the messes you now manage?"

"Because you aren't cowardly and fixated on politics but inhibited by them. You are a model of what is right." You can't say you follow what she's saying but allow her to continue. "Pulcinella and even Pierro refuse to travel abroad, always making excuses to shirk their jobs when faced with danger in order to comfortably remain in luxury. From the day I joined, you stood out to me in that way."

You raise an eyebrow at her, unimpressed by whatever she's trying to do right now. "Are you trying to flatter me into coming back?"

"I was telling the truth." She doesn't look impressed, either.

You feel a little embarrassed by that, suddenly feeling as though you really had responded quite rudely to an innocent statement. "Hearing a person idolise me is strange," you admit.

"It's not idolising." Her correction is sharp.

"Sounded close enough."

Silence again, as with the pauses scattered around the rest of your conversation. You aren't catapulting the topic into something of great interest or progressing, and neither is Arlecchino. Her lips press into a thin line trying to hide any cracks and stifle any emotion that slips through.

"I admire you."

You did not realise such a thing was possible, really.

"I thought you may have remembered the times we shared and think fondly of it, but perhaps not. We fought once- maybe twice- before. We drank together. Nothing else."

To end that statement with 'nothing else' as if to reduce every conversation, interaction, hour and experience to ashes is thoughtless at best. You didn't remember either instance in which Arlecchino believes you fought and still don't, though you try to now that you have come to find it apparently happened. If it did, the chances of you actually remembering is slim to none with how your memory is. It's not that you forget things quickly, but that minor events slip through the cracks in your frankly chock-full memory.

"I don't remember them, I'm sorry."

"I didn't expect you to."

Despite her words, there is a faint bittersweetness to it, the realisation you are insignificant to the person you aspire toward being like. Somewhere, even if she is aware it was always not only a possibility but highly likely, it still feels like a letdown, the fragile hope you might remember her strength. You only remember her drunken and all too enamoured by you to think properly. It is foolish of her to feel that way because you have battled many foes, and expecting you to remember all of them, let alone your underling, is unreasonable.

"You still haven't answered my question." Changing the topic, you take the opportunity to try to direct her back to what you asked in the first place. "Why are you really here?"

"The Jester gave me permission to pursue you, believing I would attempt to convince you to return to Snezhnaya after Columbina failed." As Arlecchino begins to explain, it slowly begins to make sense as the pieces fall neatly into place. "However, I have no interest in appeasing the wants of dignitaries who care only for their comfort."

You don't want that either. It's just a repeat of Capitano. "Do you understand how dangerous what you're doing is?" It's an attempt to remind her, but Arlecchino's unwavering expression tells you that reminders are unnecessary and unwanted.

"Yes, you were removed for less." She only confirms it for you. "Dottore is of the opinion that you will be forgotten, as are several others-" you imagine singling him out has something to do with them fighting all the time- "but that is simply impossible."

"Times change. You would be surprised how many things we thought would never be forgotten that humans have completely lost all knowledge of."

To her, that concept may be harder to swallow. Arlecchino has never seen the centuries roll by as you have and isn't as familiar with what does and does not remain. Even the greatest gods fell in the Archon War, and most humans cannot name any but the seven Archons. It is natural to forget and progress. The past is meant to become speculation and theory.

"I won't allow that." Abruptly she stops, though her sudden words startle you somewhat with how intense they are. That kind of illogical thought process is natural, maybe. You can't really say. "They could remember."

You shake your head in response, a firm denial before she's even begun to try and sell you on the idea. "There's no need for them to remember."

"There is every need."

"People don't glean the same admiration you do for someone they see as a tyrant."

"Then evoke fear!"

"Enough." You did not expect to have to put your foot down so harshly but do not hesitate to. "I won't entertain this."

Arlecchino grits her teeth at how easily you let go. Even though you are obviously not acclimated to civilian life, you refuse her offer that would allow you to return to Snezhnaya in a potential position of power. It is yet another failed step in the many she expected to have to take to convince you.

"Then let me hide you until some time passes."

"I'm not a precious treasure." She ignores how you roll your eyes at her, completely withdrawing how emotionally available you had managed to be. She can't let her anger take control of her again. "I can handle myself thank you very much." 

You sense she will not be giving up easily.

Even if you could convince her to leave you to your devices and that you would be fine, you doubt she would accept that. However, you have a feeling she knows you intend to disappear after this conversation. You have no idea why else she would pour her heart out in an attempt to make you easier to keep hold of. If you leave, you hold the advantage.

"I cannot continue to defend your honour while you stand by and allow them to do as they please with your name."

That doesn't worry you too much when you've been contributing to it since leaving. "Then give up. Let my name be tarnished."

Arlecchno's anger finally begins to boil over despite her efforts to contain it, rage spilling from the cracks in her composure. "You cannot have forgotten everything we did together."

"Of course I have not forgotten that." Your words are more fuel than suffocation to the growing fire.

"Then accept my help and stop being so stubborn."

"There's no need to."

She grabs you by your arm before you can step away, and you can feel a chill in her hand seep into your skin, likely a byproduct of her delusion. It doesn't hurt, but it doesn't match well with how warm you are most of the time. "You would be willing to pretend you don't wish for normalcy to avoid confronting the Tsaritsa?"

"If I return to Snezhnaya, I will die." You lay it out as directly as possible, without an if, but or and. There's no room to debate this because the outcome will not change. Even if the two of you decide you're best friends, nobody else will see things that way, so it's pointless to pretend you don't see it as it has to be.

Arlecchino finally appears to consider your words more carefully, remaining silent again, but you do not interrupt her this time. You shift your focus to the icy hand still touching you and begin to channel what little you can of your vision without drawing your bow to warm her. You hope she doesn't notice it, not wanting her to find an ulterior motive in it.

"Then it is unavoidable."

You don't quite understand what she is saying until she removes her hand from you to place something on the table you shared.

Suspiciously, you eye the item as you wonder about the significance of abandoning it beyond the obvious, but you don't want to acknowledge that option. "You'll need your insignia if you wish to return." You needn't remind her of that, but it is a prompting statement.

Arlecchino shocks you with her next words.

"I'm remaining with you."

You stand in stunned silence for several seconds, replaying them over in your head. Remaining with you. She doesn't mean that, does she? This is another of her persuasion tactics, right? She cannot actually go through with this. "You're what?"

"I'm not going back to Snezhnaya."

That only confirms your fear, the chill of it rushing to the core of your being and lighting your nerves up with an icy cold. Maybe that's just the hand touching your cheek.

"You can't. You shouldn't. You should stay there."

She makes an odd face at you, half understanding of your plight and the other confused about why you care so much about what she does with her job. "In that place you curse yourself for leaving Capitano?"

"It's a comfortable position." You try to reason that way with her, pointing out the inarguable benefit.

"I don't care for comfort."

You scramble to find another reason, something else to make her give in and pick it back up. You have not gotten anything you attempted to get this night. Arlecchino didn't leave and is, in fact, intent on leaving the Fatui to continue that.

"I don't care to waste my time pandering to people who do not value what I provide for them, all the while relying on it."

That's not a reason you wish to say, but it is. It is a very real reason. You can see it in how the Fatui regards your circumstances that they have never found enough value in the mountain of work you took on. If they had, you wouldn't be having this conversation. She's right, you realise, she realised what you could not.

"Even if you do not allow it, I would be able to follow you." It's a strange thing to say, but maybe she was trying to convince you. Her arm falls back to her side.

You shake your head. "Humans tire."

"I won't be too slow."

It's different for her. Arlecchino doesn't hulk around a bulky suit of armour and a helmet to conceal her face. It is open and well-known. There will be places she can't ever travel to again. Her life will be this and nothing else, while yours will eventually become something else, as it was always supposed to. Even if you don't want to now, you will move on and find a new sense of self. She may never.

"There are grave consequences."

"I know."

"You may never know peace."

"I can live with that."

"You--" 

--will question everything you have ever known. That was what you were about to say. You again come to a realisation that clears things for you. It's different. Arlecchino has not spent her whole life dedicated to serving the Tsaritsa, only a few years at best. You spent centuries. It is no wonder that she could give it all up so easily. Arlecchino only had one foot in the door in the first place.

The realisation dawning on you this way is daunting.

"...Fine. I will accept that." Though you thought you would struggle more, you also understand that it is useless to do so.

"A good choice."

The act of conceding can bring about a sense of relief and comfort. Conceding feels nice, in a way. It is a respite from constantly controlling everything to be exactly as you wish. It allows you the freedom of simply acknowledging the reality of a situation and accept that it may not align with your ideals, even if you don't necessarily like it.

You don't want Arlecchino to accompany you for her sake, but accepting that she will not share your fate of being humiliated can bring about a sense of peace. She will live however she pleases, and that means she may not want for the same future you received. Having a free will allows her to leave.

Slowly, you try to recover from the shock of the situation. As you take in a deep, quivering breath, you begin to steady yourself and attemt to process all that is unfolding.

A single question comes to your mind, a relatively simple one but significant enough to matter greatly.

"What is your name?"

CROSSPOSTED ON AO3

[honeybee2807]

When I first read Cursed Child at 12, at the time, I was aspiring to be a psychologist and was researching a lot on depression and anxiety(especially for kids and teens since I wanted to help them the most). When I read Albus' character, I kept seeing many signs of him being depressed. The way he seemed to neglect himself(there was a line that described his face as sallow[which is a word used to show unhealthiness and self neglect]), his bouts of anger and lashing out, and his general upset and low self esteem. And since bullying and family issues were top reasons for a child to be suicidal, I was convinced.

Now I'm realising that he's more likely of a candidate for a personality disorder(cough... bipolar ...cough). I admit, I'm not as well-versed in personality disorders(so feel free to point out if I'm wrong).

I remember the first time I read CC, I was a bit confused at Albus' sudden mood changes which I deemed to be unrealistic. A classic example was during his third year. He fought with his dad and got angry to the point that he burnt his hogsmede permission form and had a rant, but the moment he saw Scorpius, he instantly went all cheery and exclamation marks??? Normally it takes a while for someone to calm down from a fight and it would be fine if Albus was relieved or just slightly happy. But he went full on exclamation marks and he def wasn't angry at Scorpius.

But that didn't convince me that something could be wrong. The fact that did was the whole time travel plot. Albus read to me as downright cheerful and his insane plot to travel time couldn't even be discouraged by his bestie who claimed multiple times that this was a bad idea and Albus lost his mind. It was like a switch had flipped and he was opposite. Albus was still Albus sure but he acted different than what was told to us. Of course that could be also because he wasn't in Hogwarts which was a major cause of his distress.

But here me out. Once Rose and Hugo got deleted out of existence, it would be a sensible thing to realise that time travel is not a good idea. Scorpius certainly realised it(tho he was skeptical from the start). But Albus didn't and decided that it was a good idea to try again. Either he was a complete idiot or delusional. Then he gave a monologue how losers have powers and abilities(err wot???) and managed to convince Scorpius to try again.

Albus finally seems to come to his senses afterwards(thank god!).

I was incredibly confused for years. Then I read this fanfic where Albus was portrayed as bipolar and then it clicked. All of Albus' overly cheerful behavior and crazy ideas could be described as manic. And I don't think really need to explain the depression part to y'all.

Again, I could be wrong. I'm extremely sorry if I misunderstood bipolar disorder and mixed it up. But yeah, that was my interpretation.