#extent that we forget that she's human. that she's poured so much of herself into the characters and worlds she's made and she deserves to

[faithfromanewperspective]

gotta say it now bc i've been spending so much time in the 5sos fandom where we're all super protective of our creators: I know supporting an author isn't the same. I know cassie doesn't put herself out there in the same way as zillennial musicians. and I know there are things people in the fandom disagree with her on and I'm not here to minimise that.

but everywhere I interact with the fandom and it's been like this for years now, jokes and things about how old we'll be when the series is finished and yeah it's funny to some extent but as someone who knows what pressure to create does to me, who knows how much it dries my creativity, she's on tumblr. she's seeing some of this. and we gotta tow this line and be careful: careful as to how we're treating her and also careful for the sake of fans ourselves--we don't want to be acting in ways that incidentally result in content being delayed and lower quality because she's been burnt out for ages and we're just giving so much pressure to read twp, read tbvotd and read whatever else she'll doubtless come up with after because she loves the shadowhunters world, she always ends up writing more for it even when she says she won't. and aren't we lucky for that? we love the tsc universe. and if we're old by the time it's all finished, that's the result of her loving this universe she created so much that she just kept writing for it. it's a blessing.

and maybe i sound like an aussie who grew up under a rock in the middle of the bush (which I am) saying this but. when my only queer representation was a singular jacqueline wilson book until i was 14 and read malec's story in tmi, when i've never seen another author portray such a diverse range of realistic neurodivergent characters, when i'm a half white poc with grandparents from borneo which is partially in indonesia and magnus is indonesian, I do find in myself some appreciation for her: the author who created a world of characters I see myself in and I do hope she's okay and I want her to recover from burnout, I know how much it sucks, and it still kinda baffles me how she'll share bits and pieces of her mental health experiences (and she's my parents' age!! and a lot more emotionally aware than most gen x's I know which I so appreciate) and we don't, largely, as a fandom, seem to care. like i get we're in a fandom for the characters and stories she created not her, herself, but like ???

I love seeing the artist behind the art they create. I love it when they're human and imperfect and yet we can still see the good in them that they put out to impact the world with, a legacy, and when we see their imperfections and we can acknowledge this all together, acknowledge and come together for the fans who have been hurt by these mistakes, oversights, harmful views, that are mixed in with the good. and I love it when we can still come together after this and be like, I support this creator, I want them to be okay, I want them to keep discovering love and I want to see it in their writing. and this I don't think should only apply to conventionally attractive twentysomething men who sing! maybe i'm biased in the observation that it is usually where I see the most artist support. or maybe it's actually a trend and as feminists, as people who see our dignity in more than being fuckable and more than being Perfect Leaders, we can do better.

and so i don't care when the wicked powers come out. i'll have finished my masters' degree before I finish that book series and hear the rest of kit and ty's story i started reading in high school. but that's okay. if that's what it takes to get a good story. i don't care when we get the final tec book, even though i've got two copies of the other two on my bookcase and don't know if the cover art will even be the same when the third one comes out. because we love pretty timely things but we're not owed them. and I have to say, this isn't completely true. I do care. I do want to know. I do want to experience that joy. but much more than that I want cassie to write at her own pace and I want her to enjoy it and I want her to keep discovering her own creativity and the proof is honestly in the pudding that every artist I've seen decide to do things at their own rate has ended up way more productive than before they decided that. and artists are people after all. it's what makes their art so good and forms the basis for the fandoms we're in. so I hope she knows it's okay to take her time.

[stevenblueniverse]

Bellow selkie au Chapter 8!

I told you I'd be posting these more!

Chapter 8 sister pink

The sun shining in through the old curtained windows woke yellow up, it was still quite early and yellow hadn't slept much, she fell asleep very late too. Blue diamond was still sleeping and tightly holding onto her, she was still completely naked. " I need to tell her to stop this", yellow thought, trying to gently move blue off her and looking away from her body, "She's so innocent, maybe I'm the one in the wrong for how she makes me feel..", yellow pulled the bedsheets over blue's body, got some clothes and got dressed in the bathroom, blue's white coat was still sitting on the bed, untouched.

Yellow looked at herself in the bathroom mirror, it was very dusty and old, you could barely see any details with it, "whats wrong with me", she thought to herself as she buttoned up her white dress shirt, "I'm so disgusting for how I feel about the selkie, she must never know about this or she'll think I'm just like the human who took away her sister". Yellow got dressed and opened the bathroom door, she was wearing black pants that where slightly too long for her and her long black jacket, blue was now awake and looking over at her, still laying in the bed with the covers over her.

"Good morning, yellow", blue greeted her, reaching over to get her coat, she got up from the bed and put it one while making eye contact with yellow. "Blue...", yellow spoke, becoming quite nervous, "yes?", yellow didn't know how to say this without embarrassing the selkie or feeling like a horrible pervert, "y-you know what you did last night was very uncommon for humans, not just the fact you where naked but you where so.....touchy.", yellow didn't know how to phrase this at all, she was really struggling, "Usually only humans in romantic relationships do that to eacother", sweat started to run down her face, talking about it just made her even more embarrassed, blue just nodded.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I needed to prove my trust, I didn't know no other way, did you not like it? Was it wrong?", blue apologised, "I'm so sorry, why did I do that, I needed to prove how much I trusted you somehow!", "no its okay! Just forget it ever happened, I feel awful for even telling you its wrong it's my fault you didn't know any better!", yellow tried to reassure blue but it didn't work, she felt awful. "How is it your fault!? It's mine I'm here on human land and I can't even understand how you humans act! I've done something so wrong and horrible haven't I? Please don't act nice with me! Tell me the full extent of how wrong it was! ILL NEVER DO IT AGAIN!", blue was starting to become emotional and it made yellow feel even more guilt, "no blue I should be the one apologising! I was the one who saw it as romantic I was the one who had such wrong feel-", "DONT APOLOGISE FOR ANYTHING YELLOW!", blue bowed her head and started to cry, "how will i ever be able to get my sister back if I can't underhand you humans? I'll just fail and they'll know who I am, what I am", blue covered her face and started to cry more and more.

"Please don't cry, blue", yellow said, moving blues hands from her face, tears still pouring out, "I'll help you, I'll teach you everything, don't worry", yellow smiled back at her, she gently wiped away blue's tears, feeling her soft skin once again, "I'll help you get your sister back, that's why we are here! I'll do it for you", blue rubbed her face with her sleeves and loudly sniffled, "t-thank you so much yellow", she hugged yellow again, this time much less awkward as she was wearing her coat. "I'll do anything for you blue, I'll get your sister back as soon as possible, I'll find her coat and she can return to the sea with you", as yellow spoke she became worried her real feelings for blue would start to slip out.

"It will be very difficult though, you've seen her husband, he has a lot of control over her, that time when I was with her was the first time in years I've saw her.", blue said, letting go of yellow, "she looks so different now, she has a son too, maybe she is more used to the human life style now", "please have hope blue", yellow replied, taking a huge risk and moving her hand onto blue's, "I'll do it, as long as it makes you happy, I never want to see you cry like that again, tell me, what is your sister's name? I think I heard the man call her rose, I think I've seen her around here too, i'll probably be able to get more info on her", blue looked down to yellow's hand and moved her fingers inbetween hers, "her name was pink diamond now the humans call her rose", she said, a light sadness in her voice, yellow was taken off guard by her name but was more distracted by her and blue now holding hands.

"Did the humans change her name?", yellow asked, fearing it would make blue uncomfortable, "im not sure", blue replied, "maybe she never told that man her real name, as punishment for trapping her". Yellow looked down at her hand intertwined with blue's once again, trying to take deep breaths and controll the growing redness in her cheeks, " I hope one day you'll tell me your real name", she thought to herself

[averseunhinged]

hi, friends! i've been unwell most of the past week, so writing's been a struggle. i woke up feeling considerably better this morning, though, and managed to unearth and clean up something from the archives.

this is another snippet of the amnesia fic from a billion months ago. i forgot how much i loved this concept, but still have no idea how it ends, so idk when it'll see the light of day again.

She was much the same as she had ever been, pretty and leggy and bright in flat sandals and a short, white sundress, a cobalt blue bikini top peeking out. Her hair was lighter, like sun bleached bone, and her skin was kissed golden, darker freckles sprayed sweetly across her nose and forehead.

"That's her," Klaus confirmed

"My associate claims there's been no sign of her mother. She still introduces herself as Caroline, but he ran into difficulty unearthing a surname or current residence."

There were so many places he wanted to take her. A summer tourist town in a remote part of Downeast Maine wasn't one of them, but she looked like she belonged there. He easily envisioned her, windswept on a sailboat, laughing in a lobster bib, perched on a rocky outcrop like a siren, while he painted her against the offing.

“How incompetent are your minions, brother, that they cannot follow one teenage, amnesiac vampire home?”

“An excellent question, one I posed to Jean-Marc. He was adamant it was through no fault of his own.” Elijah left Klaus leaning over the photographs spread out on the table and shrugged off his suit jacket before collapsing into an armchair near the unlit fireplace.  “I'm inclined to believe him. He swears there is mind magic at work. Every attempt he made at ascertaining her location ended back where it began, his memory not erased, but blurred. He described it as neither like, nor entirely unlike compulsion.”

Klaus picked up one image: Caroline at a large, bustling farmer's market. She was holding a melting, chocolate ice cream cone and laughing with a tall, handsome young man running a smoked game meat stall, as he offered her a paper napkin.

“How has this happened?" he murmured. "Rebekah, Hayley, her friends were all made to forget. It took weeks of everything seeming off-center for my own mind to break and then heal itself."

"Whereas I never forgot her, nor her mother."

"A conservation of power, perhaps. You would have had no reason to think of her if I hadn't broken free from the manipulation."

He glanced over at his brother, finding him stone-faced and grim, the angular lines only he had shared with Finn carved in gargoyle relief.

“I find I must apologize, Niklaus," he admitted, still focused somewhere beyond Klaus. "I assumed your insistence on obtaining the cure had more to do with either the manufacture of more hybrids or simple paranoia. I should not have underestimated your misgivings regarding the extent of Silas's power.”

“We all underestimated him,” Klaus admitted absently and moved to pour himself a drink. He froze halfway to the decanter and instead pointed directly at Elijah. “It could be witches. An artifact. An alchemist's creation. Any number of things. Your conclusions, however, went directly to Silas, even though he was desiccated and, if Stefan did his job, dropped down a very deep hole.”

Elijah remained silent long enough that Klaus thought he might not answer at all. In the end, he pressed his thumb and forefinger against his closed eyes, rubbed them wearily, and acquiesced. “I thought perhaps it best to wait, given that I have not confirmed it myself. Jean-Marc was asked to look for an infant vampire with remarkable control over her impulses, but so far as he has been able to ascertain, the girl is human.”

Klaus looked at her again, at the smile that always made him feel found and lost and found again. At her hands, bare of the gaudy daylight ring that had never quite matched her more understated taste in jewelry. He threw the photo back onto the table and took out his phone, finding the contact for someone he grew more and more convinced would never answer again. His fear grew as the call went to voice-mail once and then twice.

“Ripper,” he grit out the third time, crisp and vicious. “If you do not return this call with all haste, you'd best hope yourself already dead.”

With careful, delicate fingers, he replaced the phone into his pocket. The roaring in his ears made him spin with vertigo, his vision blurring out of focus. He bowed his head until his chin touched his chest.

There had been so many places he wanted to take her.

“Niklaus,” Elijah began in that calming tone Klaus had always hated.

He responded by picking up an antique mahogany chair and turning it into kindling against the far wall.

“This is my fault,” he seethed amongst the splinters. “I should never have left her there alone. To hell with her independence. I should have forced her to come with me.

“She would have hated you for it. I only spoke with her a few times, but she didn't strike me as the sort of woman who responds well to orders and subjugation.”

He laughed bitterly. “I wouldn't have heard the end of it. Yet, she would be here, furious, but alive and safely immortal. Not counting down her days, nothing more than a vessel containing some ancient witch's spell ingredient.”

“I suppose remarking on the irony won't do your temper any favors, will it?” Elijah sighed at the venomous glare Klaus leveled at him. He loosened his tie and undid the top buttons of his shirt. Unfastened his cuffs for good measure and began rolling his sleeves. “If Silas fed her the cure, he must have a way to extract it. It was too precious to him to waste on a petty revenge he assumed you would never know about.”

[kamilah-the-bloodqueen]

Remember Me (4/???)

I AM SO FUCKING SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO FINISH. Honestly I lost a lot of motivation to write after Bloodbound because PB has greatly decreased in the quality of their books. I am still trying to find the time and motivation to write and am forcing myself to finish my series at the very least but if I am being completely honest I feel like the Kamilah fandom has died, PB’s books mostly suck and I don’t even really play choices anymore. Who knows, I’m trying to learn to write the code for episode so maybe I’ll start posting my own stories and choices on that platform with better plot, smut and less diamond focus since it would be a hobby. This chapter is ASS and mostly just moves the plot along - so if you want action I would wait for a different series or later chapter - okay bye!

Pairing: Adrian x MC x Kamilah (Amy)

Tags: I paused the tag list since it’s been so fucking long but if you want a tag please let me know because I’m pretty sure most people think this series died with me :)

Words: ~1500 (Short because I needed to finish a chapter to motivate me to finish the next)

Kamilah took a deep breath as she knelt on the floor beside Adrian, carefully wrapping her arms around her brother, her heart sinking with every sob that left his lips. She didn’t speak, she knew her words would come off too harshly and she couldn’t blame Adrian for feeling that way, after all she knew how much he loved Amy. 

“Adrian, I’m sorry. I...I truly don’t know what to say.” As their eyes met Kamilah saw exactly how devastated he was, and even in her two thousand years of life, she had never been in his situation. 

“Kamilah, do you think she’ll...well she says we’re just friends but do you think she’ll fall in love with me again?” His lips trembled, his hands shaking and his eyes glistened with tears. 

“I don’t know. As much as I believe love is a silly mortal affair, and a simple chemical reaction, it can’t be forced but I’m sure if you just be yourself and do your best to be her friend that any romantic feelings will follow.” Kamilah moved away as Adrian calmed himself, both of them passing a nod of agreement as he wiped his face clean with tissues. 

“Your wisdom has always guided me well Kamilah.” 

“I suppose that is two thousand sixty three years of experience speaking.” 

“Heh, I guess my two hundred years don’t nearly compare...” 

“You’re still a simple child in my eyes, I just took a liking to you.”

“Well, thank you Kamilah. It seems I owe you quite a bit.”

They both stood from the floor and took seats on Adrian’s office couch, Kamilah folding her legs and crossing her arms and Adrian crossing his ankles and folding his arms. 

“We’re practically siblings - you don’t owe me anything. Just try to take care of yourself and well...don’t expect anything from Amy. I’m sure this is difficult for her, difficult is an understatement. I can’t imagine what she’s experiencing.”

“Maybe I’ve been too selfish Kamilah...I’ve been thinking more about what I want from her instead of focusing on if she’s okay or what she wants.” 

“Sometimes it’s alright to be selfish, and I can understand why you felt that way but you are correct, we need to focus on what Amy wants now, not what she wanted before the accident.”

“You’re absolutely right. I can only hope for the best...I just really...I really wanted...I believed she was the one.” 

“I know you did. I wanted her to be the one for you as well, I still hope she comes back to you Adrian.”

“Me too.” 

Adrian’s phone buzzed at the same time Kamilah’s did, Lily having texted both of them to rendezvous with her and Jax at Amy’s old apartment to talk about the recent events. 

“We should go, but do you feel okay?” Kamilah patted Adrian’s shoulder as they both stood from the couch.

“Yes I think so.” They hurried to the elevator and got into Adrian’s black Mercedes as they navigated towards Lily’s apartment. Once they arrived Lily greeted them before guiding them up to the apartment where Jax waited on the couch with a beer in hand.

“Hey guys...how ya doin?” His words were slurred and he was obviously under the influence to a decent extent. 

“Tell me you have something other than beer Lily.” Kamilah grimaced as Jax took another swig of the beer. She had no problem with beer but she hated that brand and would rather remain sober than allow herself to drink that brand. 

“Yeah, vodka or wine?”

“Vodka.” Kamilah spoke without hesitation while Adrian grabbed a beer from the fridge and took a seat next to Jax on the couch. Lily began to pour Kamilah a shot, and once the glass was full Kamilah took the bottle from her and took two large gulps before sitting on the leather chair and holding the bottle with one hand. 

“So we’re here to get drunk? I thought we were supposed to talk about Amy?” Kamilah’s voice broke the deathly silence that filled the room. Adrian leaned in the door before removing his tie, unbuttoning his shirt and, grabbing three bottles of the cheap beer and sinking into the recliner opposite of Lily and Jax. 

“I didn’t want to drink...well grieve...alone. I mean I can’t do this with Amy anymore...well I could but it wouldn’t be the same... and I have my friend back but it’s really just...it’s not the same. I don’t know I just didn’t...you can leave if you want but I didn’t want to grieve alone…” Lily began to sob, her tears falling into her glass of wine as Jax and Adrian frowned. Kamilah held her stoic expression, but even the alcohol could not erase the ache she felt in her chest.

“I see, well I guess we all process grief differently…” Kamilah spoke calmly, but deep down she felt her own sense of grief. As she gazed around she realized how messy Jax’s hair and clothes were, and how exhausted and drained Lily was. “You guys look a mess…”

“Thanks Kamilah.” Jax drunkenly snickered and Lily sniffled. Adrian remained quiet, taking a long drink from the bottle in his hand before switching to the other glass and downing it just as quickly. 

“Does this not fucking hurt you?” Lily drunkenly scolded as Kamilah flinched ever so slightly. None of them had ever heard Lily so fragile, so devastated. She had every reason to be - she had lost her best friend - even though Amy had survived the accident, the memories were all gone and everything they had once shared was gone. 

“It...does...I was just remarking on-”

“I don’t care about your remarks, at least not now. Don’t you fucking get it? I lost my fucking best friend and I have to watch her find everything again! Do you know how that fucking feels Kamilah? I’m sure you do from all your time as a vampire, but please, for the love of god and for the sake of our friendship just shut the fuck up. I can’t handle this.” Lily’s hand gripped on her bottle as it shattered against her palm, the beer pouring onto the tile floor and seeping into the edges of the carpet. 

“I...apologize Lily…”

“It’s fine! It’s fine! Everything is fine I guess. I don’t know I just...I’m not coping well...and I feel guilty for saying that because Amy has it the hardest of us all and yet here I am getting wasted to be in her position - to forget everything while also being the person who put her in this position in the first fucking place. I don’t think it’ll ever be the same as it was before…”

“Maybe that’s for the best…” Adrian finally joined the conversation. Kamilah, Lily and Jax turned to face him as he swirled the bottle around in his hand - his brown eyes shiny from the tears that had built up. “...we all lost someone...Amy was a different person to each of us...but maybe we have to lose that person for some reason…”

“Adrian, do not try to give me that ‘it’s for the best’ bullshit.” Lily took a deep breath as Adrian shrugged. 

“I’m not. I guess it’s just the alcohol talking, but I was going to propose to Amy that night and maybe it was a sign I shouldn’t have, or maybe the world is punishing me for my sins...but fuck all of that...it’s...it’s a forgotten memory and we need to forget just like Amy...”  

---------------- Amy’s POV ------------------

It was a weird feeling that I couldn’t describe. Having people who seemed like strangers tell me all about the things we’ve done together gave me such comfort and anxiety at the same time. I wanted to believe and trust each of them but at the same time, it would be so easy to lie about it. Maybe I’m just being paranoid about the situation - nobody would really benefit from creating an elaborate story just to mess with my mind. 

God this IV really stings...and now that I’m thinking about it, my ribs really hurt too. I should call the doctor or nurse but it’s nearly midnight. I mean it’s their job but they’re humans and I don’t want to be that super needy patient…

At least that Lily girl seems genuine, I can see why I was her best friend. I appreciate her sincerity more than I can verbalize to her. I’m still wary of Jax though - that man looks like he could kill in an instant and I don’t want to get on his bad side. I’m glad they’re friends with each other though - they seem to get along really well and...Adrian. Poor bastard. I broke his heart. I broke his heart and I can’t even help it. How am I supposed to even really process that whole fucking mess. He’s so sweet and gentle and genuine and I can’t even reciprocate it back to him...but maybe with time I could…? But Kamilah...she makes my heart skip a beat too...but she’s so unlike anyone I’ve even taken interest in - callous and stoic most of the time with very few soft spots. It wouldn’t be any type of understatement to claim my heart is as confused as my head. 

[bthump]

I know this is very nitpicky, but what do you think is the level of awareness Griffith has during the stairwell scene? For a very calculated and rational guy like him, it's hard to imagine that he hasn't even tried to decipher where these strong reckless reactions come from. I mean... even king of denial Guts has reflected a bit on it. Enough to ask Griffith about it. I know yoy mentioned in a recent answer to an ask, that you don't headcanon Griffith as pining, so would you say that you (cont)

Would you say that you imagine that he compartimentalizes his thougts and represses to the point that he doesn't aknowledge at least to a certain extent, that his feeling for Guts are more passionate, than what he feels for other comerades. The fact that he fully realises the depth of those feelings once Guts leaves is clear. But Idk the stairwell scene makes me think that he is at least aware, that he has a bit of a crush, but choses to not give it much importance. Curious about your thoughts 

hmmm. okay first off I just want to say that I can see multiple possibilities, from full on repression and denial, to recognizing his attraction but not acting on it, to knowing he cares for Guts and wants him as a True Friend(TM) but often downplaying that because he believes Guts sees him mainly as a superior officer. But yeah I do prefer the denial and compartmentalization explanation and I want to go into why, because I think it’s fun to talk about lol.

So the big reason I read Griffith as refusing to acknowledge his feelings to himself is because that’s how he deals with all his other inconvenient feelings, like his guilt and fear and the fact that he cares about the Hawks. Like eg when he tells Gennon that he doesn’t feel a single emotion about him whatsoever, or when he tells Casca that he doesn’t feel guilty over the deaths of the Hawks, I don’t think he’s just lying to them, I think he’s convincing himself too, to the point where he really believes it.

It’s sort of hard to explain how I see this working in Griffith’s head bc it feels v intuitive to me but I know that’s not the case for everyone. So yk it’s not that I think he like, eg makes himself forget that he nearly had a breakdown in a river, but I think he doesn’t ask himself why he nearly had a breakdown beyond maybe a shallow ‘sex with gennon was unpleasant and made me uncomfortable for a couple hours but i’m completely fine now’ and doesn’t think about it afterwards if he can help it.

And when he tells Charlotte he doesn’t have any friends and tells Guts he belongs to him during the second duel, I think he’s telling himself lies/rationalizations he genuinely believes there too. In fact, I think his denial of his own feelings is straight up meant to be his tragic flaw, which is why he’s only able to finally acknowledge them in the torture chamber, after it’s caused his downfall.

In the torture chamber we see him remember the face-off with Zodd and acknowledge that it was an irrational thing to do and wonder why Guts is so important to him, and I think part of the reason the monologue works so well is because it’s the first time we see that kind of self-reflection sans lofty rationalization from him, because before he ended up trapped in his own brain for a year with nothing to distract himself in between bouts of torture he didn’t really ask himself these kinds of questions. If he had, things probably would’ve gone better for everyone.

And like, I don’t think this makes Griffith less intelligent, or negates his rationality in other areas of life. I don’t see a contradiction in someone being able to analyze a battlefield or read other people well but avoiding genuine soul searching whenever possible and lying to himself a lot. I think it’s actually pretty realistic - I don’t think very many people fully understand themselves or their feelings, even really self-reflective people, and it’s very easy to rationalize away inconvenient cognitive dissonance. and I include myself in that lol.

Griffith’s life is kind of a contradiction that would really fuck him up to untangle (he sends people to their deaths to achieve a dream for the sake of assuaging his guilt for sending people to their deaths to achieve a dream), so he doesn’t try to untangle it, he avoids the question and hides behind a philosophical ideal. And his feelings for Guts add to that cognitive dissonance because if he values Guts over the dream, that kind of proves his entire defensive life philosophy is bullshit and his whole life plan is built on a precarious house of cards, so it makes sense to me that he’d avoid examining those feelings closely too.

And you can look at Guts too, who does navelgaze a lot and tries to analyze his own feelings and motivations - when he’s faced with a contradiction (I want to become independent of Griffith and do my own thing solely to gain Griffith’s approval) he actually notices it and briefly questions himself... and then he still puts it out of his mind and continues pursuing his contradictory goal anyway, and manages to stay in denial for 3 days even after learning that Griffith ended up in a torture chamber because he left.

Along those same lines, Guts eg realizes that he kills things because it makes him feel better but he doesn’t make the connection between his irrational urge to fight powerful enemies and his childhood trauma the way the readers can, the King didn’t acknowledge his incesty feelings til Griffith shoved them in his face, Count Slug kept denying having human feelings til Puck went on a tirade against him and he couldn’t sacrifice his daughter, Casca lies to herself about her feelings for Griffith for a long time before finally acknowledging she’s in love and then doubles down on her Griffith feelings when her newer feelings for Guts threaten them until she has a breakdown and admits some things to herself (I mean I find that last one disappointing lol, but it’s also a really straightforward example of someone living in denial of romantic feelings and therefore a good comparison point to show that Miura does this on purpose), etc. So I think this interpretation of Griffith is also consistent with how Miura just like, tends to write people.

Like imo Griffith has moments where he comes close to self awareness and could’ve started potentially reflecting on his feelings and coming to better, more accurate conclusions, and those moments definitely include the Zodd conversation (as well as the river scene with Casca, and “do you think I’m cruel?”) but none of those scenes lead to useful self-reflection because they all go wrong. Casca tries but fails to reassure him bc she’s out of her depth, Guts reminds him of his dream, the King interrupts their conversation and Charlotte reorients Griffith towards his goal so he can move on from that moment of irrationality and refrain from thinking about it further for a while. Even after the duel Griffith tries to avoid self-reflection by fucking Charlotte imo (”take all the sad and frightening things and cast them into the fire” ie hey girl wanna repress some shit w/ me?), and imo his previous ability to do that makes it all the more impactful when it doesn’t work this time and he breaks down.

BUT YEAH all that said I don’t think this is the only reasonable reading of Griffith’s awareness of his feelings lol, it’s just the one I like best and consider the most satisfying and interesting and fun to think about. And honestly that’s partly because I love dramatic irony and have a real thing for characters who lie to themselves, so I’m biased in favour of it too. Nothing about Griffith being good at denial contradicts the idea that he could still be aware of an attraction to Guts (in that case he’d probably just write it off as irrelevant and deny the associated internalized-homophobia-related self-loathing lol until it all pours out while he’s projecting at the King), and he could eg be aware that he irrationally cares about Guts above and beyond anyone else and just doesn’t even try to reconcile that with his dream, ie compartmentalization in another way.

But I think the idea that he only fully admits it to himself in the torture chamber is just very narratively satisfying.

[genshin-scenarios]

By The Lantern's Light... (Xiao/OC)

A/N: Tysm to @windblumeodes for commissioning me 🥺🥺

this is an excerpt of the fic I wrote, centered around Xiao and her OC, Bedelia!

Wordcount: 1.7k

My commissions are still open! DM if interested + more info here!

Having moved to Liyue, Bedelia was reminded daily of just why she was so taken by the nation. Qingce Village was especially picturesque with a kind community, and when her vision sang for another adventure or story to pen down, she’d venture to other parts of the land to satiate that desire.

She felt spoiled to be able to wander through breathtaking plains and mountains as she wished, though perhaps this was a blessing from her homeland’s archon, who she'd like to imagine smiled upon the pursuit of such luxury. 

Lantern Rite festivities were well underway; children played around the marketplace whilst foodies perused the stalls, new and old friends alike gathered to release lanterns and enjoy feasts. 

The biggest finale, however, was scheduled for later tonight. Her neighbours insisted she venture here to witness it in all its glory, and so she did, booking a few nights at Wangshu Inn. It wasn't as lively there as in the main city, though it seemed that it was more than enough to deter a certain yaksha...

Bedelia had long left the bustling crowds in the city to search for a spot to watch the fireworks. It was earlier than needed, but she also wanted to walk off the food in her stomach and savor the quiet nature outside.

The grass underneath her feet crinkled softly as she made her way up. Bedelia was far enough from the city that it was quiet, save for the chirp of animals and random bursts of smaller fireworks. A nostalgic feeling hugged her shoulders like the ghost of a friend. Back in Mondstadt, she would wander out at night to watch the stars, a cloak and notebook in hand that made her feel the littlest bit like she was on an adventure.

She couldn’t help but smile to herself. Her life might not be the most eventful, but it was certainly far from a boring one; she’d make sure of that.

Bedelia encountered a few people in passing, finding stray lanterns that landed in the oddest places after someone or another released them. It occurred to her that social workers would have to clean them up eventually, earning a pang of pity in her chest. She looked up to notice one caught in the branches of a tree. 

Considering that it wouldn't be any good for animals, she made to retrieve it from its precarious position. These must be bothersome too… 

For reasons unknown, this made her think of Xiao. Perhaps he'd say this was why he didn't bother with human ways, calling them unfathomable and fickle. She could almost hear him saying it, arms crossed and all. The smile that crept onto Bedelia's lips turned a little regretful; it was too bad she never got to see him in the weeks leading up to today. The nation was celebrating a well-loved tradition after all, it would’ve been fun to talk to him about it.

Xiao must be busy… 

Lost in her thoughts, Bedelia wandered around the bend of the mountain rather than continue to climb it. She'd eyed a taller point earlier as a potential viewing spot, however, a small break was in order. She grew used to the weight of the lantern in her arms and was now looking for a convenient place to leave it. 

She noticed a chamber on the side of the mountain - a cave. It wasn't too large of a space, but it was enough to sport the traces of a campfire and adventurer supplies. 

Bedelia almost dropped the lantern when something moved. Beneath the darkness was the gleam of golden eyes, she summoned her weapon instinctively, lowered into a cautious position when she realised…

Xiao?

"Wait- What the hell are you doing here?!" She sputtered. For what reason could Xiao have to rest in such a dark place in the middle of nowhere? "Even the fire isn't lit! I thought you were a panther or something!"

"There aren't any panthers in the area." Xiao paused. His polearm laid beside him where he sat. "You surprised me too, I didn't expect to see you here."

"You don't sound very surprised." Bedelia held her head in exasperation. Slowly, she picked her way into the cave and lit the leftover wood with her vision, sitting down near it.

Xiao swirled the fire with anemo, helping it burn. "I could hear your footsteps, it sounded human enough."

She didn't want to imagine what could've happened if he mistook her for a hilichurl. With the campfire burning, the cave danced in its light. Bedelia turned to reply only to freeze at the sight of Xiao; his skin was littered with remnants of battle, fresh and untreated.

"Did you just fight something?" Her eyes scanned for any serious wounds. "Do you need healing?"

"It's nothing." At Bedelia's unconvinced look, he lifted his arm to demonstrate that there was no difficulty. "Just the usual."

What's the extent of your usual? Her mouth pressed into a line. Xiao hadn't been around Wangshu Inn in weeks, meaning that he was busy warding off evil spirits. Did enough people notice the sacrifices he made for Liyue in the shadows?

"Were you going to release a lantern?"

Bedelia blinked, then followed his gaze to the item in question. She waved her hand as she answered. "Oh, this isn't mine. I found it while I was walking around, thought I’d pick it up since it landed awkwardly in a tree.”

Xiao sighed. “Those lanterns aren’t truly needed for an adeptus to hear your calls.” He took the curious look in Bedelia’s eyes as a sign to continue. “So long as you speak our names in prayer, or with enough will… It is possible it’ll stand out among the rest.”

“Does that mean you can normally sense it?” Her body leaned forward in interest. She’d heard of gods and beings that had this ability but never looked into it.

He pondered, making Bedelia wonder if he was listening to someone’s words as he glanced away. “I can’t speak for the others, but I can at least sense the strength of people’s prayers. Wishes for good health, hopes for a brighter future…” Xiao’s eyelashes fluttered close. “Sometimes they can be desperate, but it’s like a pool.”

“I see...” The words swam away in a whisper. “Have you ever heard my voice in that pool?” As quickly as she said it, Bedelia thought of another question. “Have any adepti contributed to it before?”

At that, he opened his eyes. Xiao was never easy to read, but it was even harder now when she’d said a bit too much; always stepped on the line, never more. Bedelia felt an odd twist in her chest at the idea that if she did cross over, Xiao might never be willing to see her again. So she backtracked, and straightened, with an uncharacteristic hurry in her voice. “Ah... I’m sorry, I didn’t mean... Please pretend I never said that.” Her hair curtained her from having to see his reaction as she lowered it in apology. “I forget, it’s hard to call us friends, right? Or maybe we are friends-- But it’s still not something I should’ve said.”

Bedelia stopped herself before she could ramble more, the words pouring out like a dam broke open. She scolded herself in her mind; what was she doing?

The sound of fireworks outside drew their attention, louder than before. Bedelia almost forgot her reason for coming here after having been distracted by Xiao.

It's a buildup to the Mingxiao Lantern's release, she thought. If she wanted to watch the show, she should get to a higher place quickly.

As if reading her mind, Xiao gestured for them to leave and guided her around the mountainside. They exchanged no more than a few words as he escorted her up, taking shortcuts and supporting her climb at trickier parts until they reached their destination - a peaceful spot graced with a singular qingxin bloom, and a clear view of Liyue Harbour from afar. 

Bedelia did her best to calm her racing heartbeat and focus on the lanterns that dotted the city like fireflies. Like they had numerous times in the past, the pair sat and watched the scenery together in each other's company. Except this time, it was a view neither of them were too accustomed to.

Finally, Xiao broke the silence. "It's not unheard of for an adeptus to call the name of another." It struck Bedelia that his quietness was because he was considering what she'd asked. "But in my field, there's no one to call to other than myself."

Bedelia's throat dried at its transparency; he was the last yaksha. "I can't imagine how endless the pool must feel when you're the only one braving it…" Her eyes were downcast. How lonely… But I can’t offend him more by saying that.

Xiao picked the qingxin, studying the flower in his hand. "I'm used to it. It’s simply my job, there's nothing for you to be sorry about." He raised his gaze to catch hers; timeless and solitary, like an adeptus' should be, but clear. "It's not like you're the cause of demons."

He offered the qingxin to Bedelia, who accepted it with a smile curved with slight disbelief. "It's true what they say about the adepti’s benevolence." Should she be surprised at all? Xiao had always been… "Or perhaps it's just you that is too good for the world."

Xiao held her gaze, so earnest in her view that he could not bring himself to deflect it. Instead; "If you'd released a lantern, what would you have wished for?"

The launch of the Mingxiao Lantern interrupted them, booming and flaring to life like a thousand stars, though Xiao did not look away from Bedelia's lips as she answered, or the micro-expressions that flitted across her face.

He stored those words into the depths of his mind as he turned his attention to the Lantern Rite's finale. As he watched the likeness of an old friend gallop into the night, he wondered if his dreams would ever see the same path into the sky.

At the very least, Xiao was certain that Bedelia's would. For he knew she could shake the stars with her impossibly determined flames, and he'd make sure nothing could ever dare to extinguish it.

[sserpente]

Pastel Blue (Chapter 6)

A/N: I hate how I have barely had any time to write lately! In all honesty, moving to a different country is quite  the challenge! 😂 I hope you enjoy the new chapter, I can’t wait to dive back into writing excessively, haha! ♥

Jess breathed out, watching how the warm air turned into fog. It was way too chilly down here. She had asked Mobius to install some radiators months ago but he wouldn’t listen. Loki on the other hand seemed to have no problem with the cold at all. He strutted next to her like he owned the place, with his head held high and a dark expression on his face.

M had a point. Despite the collar, it was a risk bringing Loki to a party of all things. But then again… she would be sure to laugh if he jumbled up the celebrations. Dave deserved it, kind of. Frankly, he could be a dick sometimes.

Loki smirked to himself. Her dress was green, with thin shoulder straps and a heart-shaped neckline. He offered her his arm when they stepped into the cafeteria, bathing in the mistrustful looks the whole of TVA eyed them with.

Mobius was stood at the buffet table, holding a glass filled with vodka and a green olive swimming in it in one hand while the other was buried in his pocket. The tawdry music, the chatting and the constant clattering of plates and cutlery made it nearly impossible for him to make out what the senior manager was saying now.

Warily, Loki glared him down. He was either oblivious to his excellent hearing, stupid enough to discuss such clandestine matters in the hallway or… or he meant for him to eavesdrop. Loki held on to the thought. He trusted him to feed him pathetic bits and pieces of information to keep him on his toes, to throw him small bones like a starved dog.

What if he was cleverer than he assumed he was? If he had incited Jess to spend time with him, make him believe she was on his side when she secretly ran off every day to tell Mobius about his behaviour like a child in day-care? If he used her to keep him on a leash in this godforsaken place? Loki gnashed his teeth.

“Look what the cat dragged in.” He mocked when he spotted him. The Trickster narrowed his eyes at him. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Jess rolling hers. Either way, he would not allow them to manipulate him and instead turn the tables. He was the master of mischief, after all.

“Enjoy yourself while you still can, Loki.” Dave added. “There’s a high chance you’ll kick the bucket next week.”

Jess rolled her eyes once more—or perhaps she was still rolling them, Loki was unsure. His eyes darted over to Mobius again, noticing with both dismay and an odd feeling of satisfaction making itself comfortable in his guts how the senior manager studied their interlinked arms.

A thin smile formed on his lips. Oh yes. Whatever your play is, I will turn it against you and I will burn this entire place to the ground until all you have left is a pile of ash and Jess—lovely and delicate Jess—will help me do so whether she is willing or not.

“Suck it up, Dave.” Jess barked. “Do you drink coke?” She continued sweetly then, directed at Loki.

“I beg your pardon?” He leaned forward slightly—close enough for her nostrils to be filled with his scent like she was some goddamn predator sensing its prey. If anything, Loki would be the predator in this scenario. She was but a lamb compared to him—a lamb who could kick his shin but a lamb nonetheless.

“Coke. Black fizzy drink, very sweet, spiked with Whiskey—not normally but definitely tonight.” She cleared her throat and winked at him and, much to his own surprise, his heart skipped a beat upon the flirty gesture. Perhaps this was the very reason he let her grab his arm and drag him away from both Mobius and Dave to plunder the bar.

“Don’t let her get drunk!” He heard Mobius call after him. Loki frowned.

Whoever was playing bartender tonight and doing a terribly slow job with that, Jess paid them no attention. Unceremoniously, she leaned over the counter, grabbing two glasses and a bottle of Whiskey. Granted, Loki knew nothing of Midgardian drinks and how there were properly mixed, he had a feeling, however, that more than half of the glass filled with Whiskey was not the proper way to mix a delightful alcoholic refreshment.

At least, so he had to admit, the view was a rather delectable one, with her backside wiggling around right before his eyes. He suppressed a dark chuckle.

Once she had tapped the faucet pouring a dark brown liquid to mix with the Whiskey and handed him one, she grinned, heaving herself up onto the counter completely and resting her feet on the barstool.

“Skål!” She announced, winking once more. Loki took a sip to conceal how thickly he had to swallow. As expected, the coke-Whiskey-mixture tasted horrible. His face distorted, making Jess laugh.

“There’s no Asgardian ale in this place, I’m afraid. Do you dance? You’re the God of Mischief, you must be dancing.”

Loki raised his eyebrows in response. “Is that all you will do at this so-called party? Drink and dance and then drink some more?”

Jess shrugged. “Never let anyone tell you that alcohol is not the solution. I’ve had some amazing nights forgetting my own name. So?” She downed her drink, slamming the empty glass on the counter so forcefully he feared it would break under the impact. “Do you dance?”

The music, whatever it was, was too slow for Jess’ taste. She’d much rather listen to some techno hits, and some Hip Hop and Dubstep hits to move her body to. It almost felt a little like space. A place to lose herself in, utterly and wholly, a place making her stronger rather than taking her energy away from her.

But Dave had always had a very uninspiring music taste and, given it was his anniversary, the music was unlikely to change anytime soon. Loki’s lips parted when she took his glass from his hand and downed it too. Neither of them expected the jolt of electricity rippling through them when she took his hand and entangled her fingers with his to pull him towards the middle of the cafeteria where Minutemen of all departments, scientists and even some of the security were moving to the music.

“That’s an interesting development after all, don’t you think?” Loki heard Dave say. Jess swirled them both around, her blue eyes closed in an attempt to dream herself into a reality where she could go out with her friends and lose her mind in a dimly lit nightclub surrounded and desired by both men and women alike. She would drink until she had forgotten about her parents and until she had lost her grasp on reality to enter space and be free and independent. Jess did not allow herself to dream often these days, for when she did… the urge to escape this place once more and turn her back on Mobius rose to an extent it brought her physical pain to resist.

“Well, he is charismatic. That doesn’t mean anything, does it? Jess has a weakness for bad boys and Loki is pretty much the definition of that.”

“Please. Thor’s little brother, how strong could he possibly be without his beloved sceptre?” Dave snorted.

“I wouldn’t underestimate him, especially not this variant. I wouldn’t have brought him here if I didn’t think he’d be of use. He’s smart. He doesn’t trust us.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mobius shrug. “We have a good reason not to trust him either. Not yet, at least. I’ve studied his entire life, remember?”

“You are not seriously thinking about removing that collar at some point, are you?”

Loki growled, lest he could not decide whether it was because of how good his palm felt against the small of Jess’ back or the way Dave and Mobius kept talking about him behind his back.

“Now I thought you said he couldn’t possibly be that strong without the sceptre?” Dave replied nothing to that. He did not need to. Mobius had made it clear enough that he was the figure of authority here. There was no way, however, he was going to be able to concentrate on this devilish bureaucrat and his ridiculous attempts to manipulate him as long as Jess’ body was rubbing against his in the most wicked ways. This woman, human or not, knew exactly what she was doing, regardless of the alcohol already clouding her system.

He smirked when another song ended and there was a moment of silence in his heart upon the lack of a loud bass reverberating in his chest. Jess opened her eyes in an almost luscious manner and took his hand once more to pour herself another drink.

He liked the way she took charge. Apart from Sif, she was so unlike all the Asgardian women he had known during his time in the realm he grew up in. Jess was neither offering him her devotion nor was she withholding her affection. His heart jumped upon remembering how she had hugged him in the bathroom. Peculiar.

While she emptied another repulsive coke-and-whiskey-mixture, his eyes caught another buffet table positioned at the other end of the room—one he had not seen upon first entering this absurd get-together.

“What is this?” Jess spun around.

“What is what?”

“This.” He pointed at the table. The cooks had outdone themselves with the number of bowls full of fruit neatly chopped up—the highlight, however, was the massive chocolate fountain bubbling away peacefully and luring every passer-by into tasting it.

“Have you never seen a chocolate fountain before?”

Loki frowned, making Jess chuckle. Heavens, if he keeps doing that, his face might stay like that, she thought.

“Come on, I’ll show you.” Once within reach of the buffet table, she treated herself to a strawberry that she stabbed with one of the provided plastic toothpicks and coated it with chocolate. She grinned when Loki’s smirk returned and copied her with the sole difference of picking a grape instead.

“How does this thing operate?”

“Well, I’m not an engineer but as far as I’m concerned, you pour molten chocolate into the fountain, which is electric, and the pump inside will make sure to keep it flowing. Apparently, Asgard is not as advanced as I thought it was. Chocolate fountains are extremely important for one’s emotional wellbeing, you know.” Jess downed the Whiskey glass she had taken with her. “And so is alcohol. Are you gonna stay here all evening now?”

“I just might.” Loki winked.

“Suit yourself.” She announced, holding up her empty glass. “I’m getting another drink.”

The God of Mischief rolled his eyes and snatched her upper arm, holding it tightly enough for to gasp—and not in a terrified or intimidated way, so he noticed. But either way, he was not going to let her poison herself.

“You’ve had enough, don’t you think?” He snarled, snatching the glass from her.

“Excuse me? Give that back.”

“No. I said you’ve had enough.”

“I’m supposed to supervise you, not the other way around! Now give that back.”

Loki scoffed. “You’ll do a marvellous job with that, all drunk and out of your mind.”

Heavens, not again. Jess gasped for air—a desperate sound swallowed by the loud music and the bass vibrating in her chest. Loki caught it nonetheless. There it was, this figurative magnet, this invisible rope tying him to her like a bloody lap dog.

It was genuine concern purling in his stomach, he did know this much. Regardless of Mobius’ half-hearted request, Loki certainly did not want Jess to get drunk and damage her liver beyond repair. Mortals were fragile as was and yet here they were, stuffing themselves with ridiculous amounts of sugar and fat, spending all day watching silly TV shows and pouring alcohol down their throats like it was water from Mimir’s fountain itself.

“I dare you…” He murmured, his composure on the edge of a steep cliff threatening to overwhelm him, rip all control from him. Jess leaned back some more, a feeble attempt to escape his advances that she did not wish to refuse altogether. “I dare you.” He repeated, jumping in at the deep end if anything to quench the curiosity and feel what his body and, for Heaven’s sake, even his mind had been longing for. What had he to lose? “Kiss me. I know you have been thinking about it.”

He pulled her close again and this time, he was certain to have heard a whimper. Loki’s cock stirred, even more so when she turned her head away and his nose brushed against her cheek.

“Is it Mobius?” He purred. Jess struggled to form a proper sentence in response or even breathe evenly. Eventually, she nodded. “I believe… I believe we have both had enough of this party, have we not?”

Jess bit her lower lip and glanced behind herself. M was engrossed in a conversation with Ravonna Renslayer, the badass time judge she never interacted with much. Well… she certainly was none of her concern now.

“Quick,” she breathed out, “before they notice us leaving.”

 ~*~

You are a grown woman. Loki is a handsome man. It’s obvious the chemistry between you is right. You’re sexually attracted to him and he just confirmed that the feeling is mutual. This is not your first one-night stand. It might not be your last. God, I hope it’s not my last. That man is literally not from this world.

“What are you doing?” Jess snapped herself out of her thoughts when Loki stopped in front of one of the control rooms. The walls were made entirely of glass, revealing a bored security officer staring at about a dozen computer screens in utter darkness. “He’ll see us!”

Loki narrowed his eyes and huffed when he found what he was looking for—the camera monitoring Jess’ unit. Ah… this was indeed perfect. Just like he had suspected. He could see the sofa and the unmade sheets on top of it, and the coffee table with countless peanut bags on it. But even without his powers, nobody would see him sneak along the wall and into Jess’ bedroom.

“Loki?”

“There is a dead angle in your unit.”

“So?” He winked again, making her lower regions clench. When he simply kept on walking, she rushed after him like a cat knowing it was about to be fed.

~*~

A/N: Muhahaha. In case anyone is interested what song Loki and Jess danced to, you can find it right here!

[drethanramslay]

Rock Bottom

Pairing: Mona X MC (Alexis Jennings)

Masterlist

Word count: 1.8 K (I really tried🤧)

Warnings: None, there is swearing, also there is a crossover 👀

Author's note: I'm taking part in @rodappreciationweek and this is my entry for day 3 (mona)

The hosts of RoDaw @client-327 @brightpinkpeppercorn and @choicesarehard are donating $5 usd to the Lebanese red cross, up to $500 for every piece of Mona content today! Please consider making/posting something for Mona today if you haven't already❤️

I'm also taking part in @wackydrabbles so you will find the prompt in bold

Forgive me if I make any mistakes

"Prisoners move back to your respective cells." The loudspeaker blared, cutting sharply through the air, giving Mona a cold splash of reality.

Until that godforsaken announcement, Mona had been sitting on the steps, her eyes closed as she enjoyed the cool breeze threading through her hair. The sun rays poured over her and she enjoyed the warmth emanating from them. She could smell the ocean and with her eyes closed, she could almost imagine standing on the shores of Santa Monica, the sound of the waves washing over her.

But there is only so much imagination one can use to forget that she was in jail.

To her darn luck, she had been transferred to Trask Island, a maximum security prison off the coast of Florida. It was one of those dreary prison where you were completely cut off from the world.

No call, no letters, no communication.

Whatever fucked up environment they created here, that was her world and Mona hated every second of it.

It was also called the 'rock' because one, it was on a island and two, it would drown all your hopes and wishes of a future, just like how a rock sinks in water.

No one has ever escaped Trask Island and no one ever will. The words of the warden echoed through her head making her scoff.

It's cute that he thinks I will be sticking around in this shit hole.

Mona was super determined to get the fuck out of here even though there were moments when she was completely and utterly lost.

She hated the orange tracksuits she had to wear. She hated the way these spiteful men dictated her life and tried to break her spirit. She hated being stuck in a tiny cell.

She longed to feel the adrenaline rush in her veins when she raced.

She longed to feel her hands gripping her steering wheel, as she drove at speeds defying gravity.

But most of all she longed for Alexis... The girl she left behind.

Mona found it ironic. After her ex ratted her to the police she swore that she would never let anyone have that power over her. That she would never wear her heart on her sleeve again. She built this impenetrable fortress around herself so that no one could enter and know the real her.

But Alexis managed to do that by just smiling at her.

The way their hands fit perfectly into each other's... The way that all her worries would go away when Alex was in her arms... The way that they both pushed each other, looked out for each other and challenged each other...

Mona had never witnessed such a feeling of companionship and she couldn't help but fall for her.

I love you Mona... Those words haunted her but at the same time motivated her to keep going through the motions of the day.

Her fantasies were abruptly interrupted by the guard kicking her combat boots. "Up and going, or do you want a month in solitary?"

And the thing she hated the most about this prison are the guards. I mean it was normal to hate them but this was some next level shit. She absolutely abhorred them to such a extent that she wanted to strangle them with her bare hands.

The number of times she was thrown into solitary was not even funny. And all of them were for the dumbest of the dumbest reasons.

Hell she was thrown in the hole for a fight she wasn't even part of.

All men are the same... Power hungry and drunk on greed. That's why girls are better.

So not wanting to risk living in the darkness for a month, she bit her tongue and got up before joining the other cellmates.

"What a dick." Eris Huang, an expert demolition muttered under her breath, so low that only Mona could hear it, causing her to snort.

In the six months she was here, she was low-key glad that she met Eris. They two met when Mona was moved into Eris' cell. Both were strong willed, hard headed and sarcastic woman so it wasn't really surprising that they became fast friends.

"Tell me about it. One of these days he is gonna piss me off so bad that I will end up castrating him with a blunt knife."

"Oof. I will hold him down and break his legs." Eris offered causing Mona to smirk. I like this girl. 

"Anyways, I have a shift at the library so meet you later." Eris spoke.

"Get me another notebook if possible."

"What are you writing? A love letter?" Eris teased which made Mona roll her eyes but she wasn't very far off from the truth.

"A lady never tells." Mona answered causing Eris to chuckle as she took a left to go to the basement.

Mona reached her cell and she felt the the cell gate close behind her with a loud clang, which resonated in her ribcage.

Sure, hanging out in the yard and working in the workshop was a welcome distraction but staying in her small cell for more than 17 hours would make a girl lonely.

So, in all these hours of loneliness, sadness and hopelessness Mona found some sort of solace in writing about her dreams, list of things she was going to do once she was out, her aspirations... But most importantly, how much she missed Alex and how she wished to be by her side.

So settling into the corner of her bunk, she opened the notebook with tattered pages so that she could write.

Dear Alex, I know I told you to not let me imprison you but that's not applicable to me because you are always on my mind. It's hard to forget you. I miss you so much....

Do you know what day it is today? It's the fifth... Or I assume so because there is no calendar here. We aren't told what date, month, year it is. It's just days which sinks into the lonely nights and the cycle continues.

It's been six months since I last saw you... And I guess it just hit me hard.

It's just cruel how little time we had together.

I still remember that night. How happy we were in that cute little prom of yours. I still remember how heartbroken you were when I betrayed you.

But you didn't let it break you.

I still remember the way you took down those bastards. I still remember how fucking proud I felt on that moment. I still remember how I took a bullet for you and the shock that coloured your face.

And I know the thoughts which ran at your head in that moment. "Someone actually cares enough for me to take a bullet for me."

I'm here to tell you that yes, I took a bullet for you and I would do it a thousand times over just to prove that I love you and I care about you. I'm here to tell you that you are worth it and you deserve all the love in the world.

I wish I could hold you in my arms and tell you all of this but... Life loves fucking with me and you got caught as collateral.

It's just... Hard some days. Sure I have made friends with some other criminals and tried to make this fuckery my new normal but I'm only human. I'm few moments away from sinking to rock bottom, as shocking as that may sound.

You always perceived me as an aloof, careless and a strong badass but that changed when I met you.

Sure I was always strong but you make me stronger. You and me... We both are like two knives sharpening each other. Pushing each other to reach new heights of awesomeness.

But, I also want to worry for you. I want to appreciate you. I want to wake up next to you and I want to love you.

I often wish how we would have met if I had not gone down the wrong path. Would we have met at some pub? Or in some Ivy League college? Or some frat party?

People often say that you shouldn't waste time thinking about the things that could have been but when you are in a prison with nothing but time, that's all you seem to do.

So yeah, you are the only thing preventing me from going insane.

I think that's enough emotional bullshit for today and I'm low-key relieved that you aren't reading these letters, of me talking like a sap.

But one thing is for sure- I love you.

Yours, Mona.

She heard the electric buzzer and the door of her cell opened. Eris walked in with an impassive face with a guard standing at the entrance. He shut the cell gate and walked away.

Mona's eyes narrowed as she sat up straight. Wait a minute-

She waited for the guard to be far away before she spoke up. "You have a plan."

Eris turned the light off of the cell and plopped on to the bed opposite Mona's.

"Smartie. Always knew I did a good job of recruiting you."

"But how? Do you remember the last time you failed and ended up in the hole for a month and a half?!"

"Yes I do remember but this is foolproof. We have outside help."

"... I'm listening."

"Do you speak thief?" She asked which made Mona scoff in disbelief.

"Obviously. I have stolen cars and kidnapped people. Obviously I'm no amateur."

Eris proceeded to explain how her friends Rye and some other chick had come up with a plan. She listened with complete attention and only stopped her to ask valid questions.

"So... Are you in?"

Mona tried weighing the pros and cons. It's sounded a tad bit unrealistic and far fetched. There were a couple of loose ends which made her hesitate.

Eris noticed that and grasped her hand. "See Mona, no escape plan is perfect. This is a rough draft and we will work out the kinks. But remember, the three crucial things an escape plan needs is- Luck, faith and determination. We don't know about what lady luck has in store but, we sure can have faith and determination."

"I know that you hate it here and I know the punishment of escaping is harsh but what's wrong in trying? We are already suffering as it is, what's a little more? And I see that fire in your eyes, M."

"The fire to break free and the fire to go back to your girl."

Mona looked up and the momentary joy of getting to see Alexis soon. Adrenaline courses through her veins, causing her heart to beat faster.

Eris leaned forward, her voice intense. "So tell me- Would you like to blow this joint or rot in here for the next five years wishing you could have atleast tried?"

Mona's eyes met hers and a smirk formed in her face. Reaching forward she shook Eris's hands, sealing the deal.  "What the hell. This is without doubt the stupidest plan you've ever had. Of course I'm in."

Don't worry Alexis, I'm coming home.

Hope you liked it 😊

Mona x MC Taglist : @kamilahsayeet2063 @kaitlynliaofanxx @vampiregirlsblog @made-me-deep-blue

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[markusblogbois]

Image 1:

In this panel, it shows a boy attempting to enter a hole in the mountain that happens to be his exact measurements. Junji Ito is very good at using line work to add atmosphere to some of his panels as evidenced by how in this image the facial expressions the boy is making  is emphasised by the several lines that make up the shadows of his eyes. Ito doesn’t draw out the eyes and instead uses the lines to make the shape of his eyes.This adds to the moment as it helps shows the desperation in his eyes and how he isn’t thinking clearly. Within this piece/novel Ito comments on the desperate need as a society to fit in and how it can sometimes be our downfall.  He shows this by telling a story about people climbing into human shaped holes that happen to mysteriously be their exact measurements, and once they were in, they would be consumed by the darkness that laid further in the hole disfiguring them. This physical and metaphorical darkness is illustrated through Itos use of lines and cross hatching seen on the panel, the further the hole goes the thicker the hatches get eventually being a solid black. On the last panel it shows the boy entering the holland in doing so the reader can see that it's a perfect fit, a small crack can be seen between the hole and the boy. This creates a certain uneasiness as it reminds the reader of the unknown void that they are about to enter, almost showing us the tiny hope of the boy returning, decreasing as he goes further.  Another strong theme that is explored in this piece is ‘compulsion’, this is evidenced throughout the novel as once a person has found the hole with their exact same measurements they are suddenly taken over by this desire to want to enter it despite knowing the danger it provides.

image 2:

In this panel the characters seen cowering from the giant heads are currently being attacked by balloons that resemble the people that they target. In this page Ito has the top half of the panel showing the heads from a distance making the reader feel that the characters are safe staying in the house but in the last panel a close up of the heads is shown, showcasing the  serious threat they impose to the characters shown in previous panels. This is Ito effectively using the layout of his panels to increase the tension in the scene. In this book Junji Ito explores the fear we have as a society of being assimilated into the masses and being forgotten as individuals. The balloons also started appearing at the time a student at a school hangs herself, the balloons heads representing the villages inflated feelings towards wanting to forget the student who had committed suicide. In the last panel the crooked smiles and widened eyes can be seen clearly and given a closer look,  all the eyes of the balloons drawn to be pointed at one point of the page, this gives the effect that they are staring directly at the reader, feeding more into the unsettling nature of their appearance. Junji Ito also decides to only shade using the means of lines and mark making techniques like cross hatching. This helps add to the creepiness to the already terrifying imagery as it’s simplistic line work helps emphasise certain features whilst not adding too much to the image. An example of this can be seen through the eyes of the balloons, everything on the faces are drawn with very deliberate thin lines whereas the eyes are very thick and the patterns made up by the lines are more complex. This helps create a focal point on the faces helping the reader notice that the eyes look like they are staring right at them.

image 3:

This particular panel is from one of Junji Ito’s most well known work ‘Uzumaki’. A town is cursed with the obsession with spirals, to the extent that even the residents purposefully deform themselves to create a spiral formation as seen in the picture. Junji Ito is a master in body horror, using his skill in mark making and precise inking, he is able to bring to life these images that would otherwise be too distorted to believe would be possible, to the point where you wouldn’t find it scary. What makes this panel so effective is the sheer amount of detail put into the face and body using his knowledge of inking skills. Despite being in what seems to look like a perfect spiral, you can still tell that what the reader is looking at, is a man. The horror is further emphasised in the facial expression, eyes rolled over making it clear he is no longer alive and his tongue out of his mouth, showing that his insides are clearly in the same sort of state as his body. Ito’s effective use of shading captures the suffering in the man’s face quite well, with every wrinkle and shadow looking realistic enough to identify yet distorted to give use this horrifying imagery show in the panel. In this novel Junji Ito explores heavily on the themes of inevitability, even visually he explores this with the spiral shape, no matter where you look on the shape it always leads to the middle where the spiral converges on. Just like how in the story, no matter what our characters do to avoid and stop this curse, it is inevitable for the village to fall under the influence of the spiral dooming the residents.

image 4:

This panel is picked out of Junji Ito’s Black bird, this story follows a hiker that has fallen down on a hike and broken his leg, unable to move he stayed in the forest for days. What kept him alive was this woman with extraordinary features who kept feeding the hiker with flesh that was taken from an unknown source. Later it is revealed that the flesh that was given to him belonged to himself from the future. What is perhaps the most unsettling part about this story is the woman’s design. Ito draws her with plain eyes with no pupils, this adds a lifeless feal to her face, giving the reader the idea that even though on a surface level she may resemble a human, she is in fact far from it. This is further explored by how her mouth and lips are irregularly large and puffy and how she uses her mouth to feed the hiker the flesh that sustains him just like a bird. Black clothing and darker colours in general come off as quite monotone in the pages, the bold colours add impact to certain objects making it harder to miss. This can be seen with the blood that pours from the hiker’s and woman’s mouth, this is quite effective as even though the sight is quite gruesome and disgusting visually it is hard to not want to look at it as the colours, in contrast with everything else, are quite bold. This story plays off of the fear of being completely helpless, this is clear with how the hiker, unable to move from his injury, has no choice but to succumb to being fed by the woman as it is his only way to survive starving until help finally arrives, this theme is further explored later on the story when the woman starts to attack the hiker in the future once he is able to walk again.  

image 5:

This page is taken from Junji Ito’s novel ‘My dear ancestors’. This story comments on Japan’s obsession with familial pressures that society puts on themselves and how it can not only affect their children, but their spouses as well. This particular panel/page is seen when the reader flips the pages revealing this grotesque image of one of the characters Shuichi’s father laying in bed ill. Manga writers like Junji Ito utilize the page turn well and this is one of the cases where it adds more to the experience of a horror manga, this is because it forces the reader to have to voluntarily turn the page that conceals the horror that can be seen on the other side. It turns out that in shuichi’s family when the eldest die their scalp falls off and attaches onto the head of the next oldest in line within the family, creating a form of hive mind. This explains the story behind the design of this iconic example of body horror in manga. The horror that the design provides is partly due to the patterns of the scalp and how something as normal as someone’s forehead can be turned into something that looks monstrous and completely unnatural. This is done by have the thin lines on the forehead quite prominent and by having it repeat without any sort of differentiation in it’s pattern, it creates this uneasy visual which is almost hypnotising when you look more into the image. Which is in my opinion quite genius and is a example of why horror is so interesting in novels, as even though the imagery is horrible and disturbing, we can’t help but keep looking due to curiosity. This is also because the more we look the more things you can find horrifying about the image, for example if you look closer, the heads spanning out makes it look like a centipede, which is further enforced by the fact that the hair on the multiple heads look like little insect legs. The cross hatching on the walls compliment the image well as it helps give this gritty and gross atmosphere. The lines are also quite close to each other giving a more darker tone which helps to emphasise the father as there are a lot more whites present on the figure, making it harder for the reader to try to ignore the horrific imagery.   

sources

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=am-q7xFs7f8&ab_channel=CJMac

https://thecomicwonk.com/index.php/2019/10/22/the-enigma-of-amigara-fault-the-horror-genius-of-junji-ito/

https://imgur.com/gallery/ceWVQzq

https://www.sfsignal.com/archives/2012/10/words-and-pictures-horrific-geometries-in-junji-itos-uzumaki-2/

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oy1xO07Ui70&ab_channel=CJMac

[magaprima]

Part 2 Episode 5 Thoughts (Part 4 of 4)

After the dinner scene and the kiss, the next time we see Lilith is in the middle of the night, and the only light on in the house is coming from the upstairs bedroom, thus telling us immediately that’s where Lilith and Adam are. We then see Lilith coming downstairs, dressed in a nightgown now, not her green one, but a burgundy one, one less ‘I am a demoness who is going to eat you whole and spit out the bones’ and more ‘I am a sensual woman who likes silks’, which again reveals to us about Lilith’s mindset.

She says ‘I’ll be right back, my love’ and both the words and the way she says them are very telling. For one, she calls him ‘my love’, which she never has before. We’ve heard her call him ‘Adam, dear’ as a Mary affectation but that’s about it. But ‘my love’ is very personal, very intimate, and very much openly reveals how Lilith feels about him. As I said in the last post, his words, his consideration, his respect and promises as well as the consensual kiss, were the moment she fell in love with him. And the way she says it here, she sounds like she’s on a restful cloud 9. She’s at peace, she sounds dreamy and she’s strolling casually like someone in love. She’s in no rush for the water, no rush for anything, she’s content and happy here and it stands out for the fact we’ve never seen her like this before and we haven’t see her like this since, which is tragic.

This all very post-coital, the pace she moves, the way she speaks, what she’s wearing, the fact she’s come from the bedroom, the words she uses, all of it says she and Adam have just consummated their relationship (especially as Adam learned ‘Mary’ was no longer waiting for marriage). This is such a sensual moment in a peaceful, domestic way and it’s all the more touching for the fact Lilith has never had this.

And the Dark Lord arrives and ruins it all (his timing of just showing up....does that mean he just watched them have sex? Probably, the perv)

The way Lilith’s mood flips in a nanosecond, she goes from smiling and content, to absolute fear and panic on her face, turning around so quickly in horror that she smashes the glass of water she’d just poured on the ground. Her fear and kneejerk reaction to his arrival is so instinctual and so visceral, that all her happiness has vanished in a single moment by his mere arrival.

She tries to gather herself in that moment., acknowledging him with his name, but she is so thrown. She looks not like a demoness who has been by his side for millennia, but a witch who didn’t expect the arrival and fears what it means. It’s almost a parallel to Zelda’s vibe and fear when he arrives before her wedding. Whereas arrival of the Dark Lord in the past with Lilith has always been expected, welcome or even outright summoned, here we definitely feel it’s an invasion and one Lilith doesn’t want. 

‘The temple has yet to fall. The mortal is a distraction. Get rid of him, Lilith’

Okay, firstly, Adam’s presence has nothing to do with how slow the temple falling is going. Lilith has done her bit, now Sabrina has to do hers, and Sabrina is apparently so self-involved she hasn’t even noticed Ms Wardwell has a boyfriend in the house. But whatever. So this was clearly such a flimsy reason for him to command Lilith to get rid of Adam, and I have to wonder why he gave a reason at all. Why not just ‘I don’t like him, get rid of him’. And then that ties back to other posts I’ve made about Lilith saying their relationship is co-dependency, and how Lucifer needs Lilith much more than he realises or will ever admit. He wants rid of Adam because Adam means she’s not focusing on Lucifer. And that’s literally the it. And he does sort of admit that, to an extent, when he says ‘you belong to me and only me’, but it’s him qualifying by viewing Lilith as a possession, something he has ownership of and the right to command. 

Lilith quickly says ‘of course’, agreeing, and the breathless fear is still in her voice, but you can see in her expression that, as ever, she’s calculating and planning ahead. Lilith’s very character, her entire origin story, is about not being told what to do, and her entire instinct is defiance. But we know she suppresses that out of survival in the presence of the Dark Lord. The fact that her feelings for Adam are so strong that she breaks that survivalist rule and starts immediately planning how not to get rid of him, speaks volumes. 

And now onto the ring. I’ve talked in the past about how Lilith is very, very powerful and people seem to forget that, and this ring is evidence of that power. An engraved ring, with her own spell spoken over it, is enough to entirely hide Adam from the Dark Lord. She can HIDE SOMEONE FROM THE SIGHT OF LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR. Like that’s extremely powerful. Remember in the Part 2 finale when the Spellmans were trying to find a way to hide Sabrina and all Ambrose came up with was a spell where she’d have to be constantly moving?  Nope, no such crazy for Lilith. She can obscure someone with just a freaking ring. The only reason the spell didn’t work is that Stolas spied on her and then betrayed her to Lucifer (so I figure the spell works like that one in Harry Potter, where you can’t see the thing, unless one of the keyholders tells you where it is? Like Grimmauld Place?)

“Yes, but if I don’t protect the mortal, Stolas, I won’t get to play with him any longer, and I have grown rather fond of him”

Her reasoning to Stolas is an attempt to downplay her feelings, talking about playing with him, and only saying ‘fond’ (a word she uses in Part 3 which I personally feel is Lilith’s go-to word when she’s afraid to say love. So if she’s ‘fond’ of something, she freaking loves it) but that downplaying is disproven by the word ‘protect’. She’s not hiding Adam, she’s not keeping him, she’s not obscuring him or secreting him away, she’s protecting him. She’s keeping him safe. And that’s a big fucking deal for Lilith.

But of course Stolas, presumably, points out the Dark Lord wanted her to kill him and Lilith snaps, getting quite angry here, which again shows her true feelings.

“Oh relax. What the Dark Lord doesn’t know won’t hurt him”

Yet, the moment Adam comes back in, her entire ‘tough facade’ fades, and she’s suddenly wide eyed and concerned and she literally runs over to him, grabbing Adam by the hands and pulling him closer, almost as if she feels he’s less at risk of being found if he’s close to her. She is so desperately determined to keep him safe and that’s heartbreaking. 

“I’d like you to wear this ring, but you must never ever take it off”

Not only is she insistent here, with her emphasis on ever, because she knows the moment he takes it off he’ll be in danger (omg is that what happened with Stolas? Maybe it doesn’t work like the Grimmauld Place spell, maybe Stolas pulled the fucking ring off???? I mean Adam already got the vibe the bird didn’t like him), but it’s the breathless urgency she speaks with. She’s wide-eyed and worried, she needs this to work, she needs him to be safe, Lilith is all in at this point and it shows that she does really have this huge capacity for love (after all she was created human originally).

“Of course, Mary, but what does this mean” He agrees without question but is so bloody confused, like last night we said no marriage and now you’re giving me a ring to never take off....what is happening here?

And then LILITH SHOVES THE RING ON HIM. She doesn’t wait for him to take it and put it on, that’s taking too long, it has too much risk, and so she puts it on him, and that gives us nice marriage visual, of how one partner puts the ring on the other during the ceremony, and considering her first and only ‘husband’ was the Adam in the Garden, it’s a nice contrast to her willingly engaging in something akin to marriage with another Adam, one who respects her and appreciates her, reminding us that that was the only reason Lilith ended up on this path to Hell and demoness-hood. She just wanted to be treated equally and with respect. So much would have been different for her origin story if the first Adam had been like Adam 2.0. Perhaps someone like Adam 2.0 would have defied the False God with her, refused his laws of ‘women are less’ and left with Lilith. Perhaps they would have been witches together, or simply free together, who knows. My point is, a little respect means Lilith might have been saved so much pain and suffering. 

“It means we’re setting a date. But only if you swear to me, you’ll never take it off” She’s so vehemently insistent. Her fear and her concern for him is making her so vehement in her instructions that he keep the ring on. 

AND THEN HE FREAKING PICKS HER UP IN THE CUTEST MOMENT I HAVE EVER SEEN. Made all the cuter by Lilith’s little gasp of delighted surprise. Adam  is picking up the MOTHER OF DEMONS and he has no idea. Like no one has ever gotten to be that intimate or carefree or sweet with Lilith, he’s allowed to be so close to her, to entirely get under those walls she’s built up and it’s beautiful. This is such a cute moment and again shows us the happiness Lilith might have had, the suffering she might have avoided in an alternate reality. 

When he puts her down, declaring he loves her, Lilith instinctively kisses him. SHE kisses HIM. He initiates it mostly, but she moves inwards too, meeting him half way without encouragement and she does it without thinking, it’s instinctual, she kisses him. And then she realises what she’s just done and you see she’s surprised by it-- she doesn’t kiss mortal men, she doesn’t have happy intimacy with mortal men, but here she has, without a second thought. It’s natural and comfortable to her, and she looks so cute and happy and delighted by this realisation. LOOK AT HER

[animebw]

Binge-Watching: The Demon Girl Next Door, Episodes 10-12

In which all the secrets come pouring out, Yuko extends a helping hand for everyone that’s helped her, and the show closes out on its highest note yet.

No More Secrets

There are few harder things to do than be completely honest with the people you care about. Everyone’s got at least a few skeletons in the closet that weigh on them like boulders, and it’s easy to feel like you need to carry these burdens yourself lest you crush your loved ones under their weight. At the same time, though, we’re often the first ones to jump at helping our friends carry their own burdens, because we don’t think they deserve to suffer from such trials all alone. I think people, to some extent, are built to be selfless; companionship and cooperation is how animals keep the pack alive, after all. But we often forget that our friends are just a eager to help us as we are them, so we feel the need to carry our hardest, most embarrassing burdens ll on our own. And somehow, the cognitive dissonance of not extending that same generosity to ourselves doesn’t register until it’s shoved right in our faces.

The Demon Girl Next Door has always been incredibly invested in the power of human (or demon) cooperation and mutual aid, but as I moved into this final stretch of episodes, I realized how much of that ethos was built around the struggle of being honest. Momo’s always kept her past close to her chest for fear of burdening Yuko with her trauma, but she’s had no trouble offering a shoulder for Mikan to cry on when her curse goes out of control. Yuko, meanwhile, has been trying to hide Momo’s true identity from Ryoko for the sake of remaining an ideal role model for her little sister to look up to, despite taking none of that nonsense from Momo herself. And as it turns out, her own family’s been keeping secrets of their own from her, for fear of the pain it might cause her should she find out. For as powerful a force as selfishness can be, it can sometimes be a lot easier to accept other people’s issues than to let them accept your own. And as Yuko’s come to accept more and more of the burden of her new responsibilities, she’s realized that she can’t be the best version of herself unless she lets herself stand on even footing with the people she cares for. She can’t keep her fears hidden from Momo, but she can’t accept Momo keeping her fears hidden from her either. Everyone in her immediate circle has been touched by the history of the Light and Dark clans, and the only way for them to sort out the tangled knot it’s turned into is for them all to come clean, get on the same page, and commit to pushing each other forward together.

Which means, at last, it’s time for the secrets to finally come out.

The Lost Sister

In all honestly, there’s nothing in the backstory Yuko’s mom reveals that we couldn’t have guessed on our own. We already knew that Momo’s sister was a big sore spot for her, and the absence of Yuko’s father suggested his demonic heritage was going to be a key point of interest. But just because the reveals in episode 11 aren’t earth-shattering doesn’t mean they’re not important. Sakura Chiyoda, Momo’s stepsister, was the magical girl who first welcomed Yuko’s family into this town. Yuko was sick to the point of frailty in youth, and her family struggled to keep her alive with rising health costs. So Sakura, seeing their plight, sacrificed a massive chunk of her own magical power to re-balance the karmic scales of the curse affecting demonkind in the city, restoring Yuko’s health in exchange for compounding the family’s financial woes. Then, her power weakened, she enlisted the help of Joshua, Yuko’s father, to assist her in guarding the city. In many ways, Sakura was the precursor to the paradigm shift Yuko and Momo are experiencing now, disregarding the magical girl/demon divide and treating her supposed enemies as, well, people who deserved her respect as much as any other. But she paid the price for that rebellion; it’s still unclear exactly what happened ten years ago, but we do know that Sakura is still missing, and Yuko’s father has been bound to the cardboard box his family uses as a table. She’s both the reason Yuko’s still alive and the reason her family’s been struggling to such an extent. And the weight of that choice hangs heavy over everyone she left behind.

Of course, since this is Demon Girl, none of this gets very heavy, and it’s all communicated in the series’ usual speeding-locomotive gag delivery system. But in between Momo smashing a pan with her magic wand while pretending it’s a cooking utensil for Ryoko’s sake (“Some smiles in this world have to be protected.” “You’re supposed to be the steadfast one here!”) and Yuko’s mom bursting through the door to clear up a miscommunication over the various meanings of “grilling”, there’s a shockingly emotional undercurrent to the entire struggle. Yuko is trying so goddamn hard to pry Momo out of her shell, and she gets genuinely frustrated when Momo doesn’t acknowledge everything she’s been hiding from her. She wants so desperately to be part of Momo’s life, to share her burdens and help her carry them, but Momo’s still so scarred from her past that the mere thought of someone else worrying over her to that extent doesn’t even occur to her until Yuko forces her to pay attention to it. And when she discovers what really happened with her sister, she can’t see all the good Sakura was able to do for Yuko. She only sees the ways Yuko was hurt, all the pain she caused her, how the mere act of a magical girl stepping into a demon’s life resulted in tragedy for an innocent bystander with no stake in that conflict. It’s like the universe laughing in her face, telling her no matter what, they’re destined to only cause each other suffering as mortal enemies. And it hurts. It actually hurts. This ridiculous slapstick gag comedy managed to stab a spike of genuine pain through my heart. And that’s a testament to how fucking good these characters are at worming their way into your soul.

Helping Hands

But where Momo only sees the hurt her family’s caused her friend, for Yuko, this is the piece that finally makes everything click into place. She’s been so lost ever since she became a demon girl, struggling to find a purpose and a reason to carry all this responsibility. Finding out about Sakura’s sacrifice finally makes her realize the power she truly holds: not her demon magic or transforming cosplay, but her willingness to help. Sakura couldn’t fix anything, but without her, Yuko might not even still be alive. Nor without her father’s support, or her mother’s constant care, or the countless doctors who no doubt fought tooth and nail to help her overcome her weakness. She is a product of everyone else’s helping hands; this was never a burden she had to carry on her own. Her family, her friends, her ancestors, all of them have been beside her helping her find her footing as she figures out how to be who she wants to be. And now, she has a chance to pay that kindness forward to the people who matter most. With the courage and strength she’s developed as a demon girl, with the bonds she’s forged and the people she’s forged them with, Yoko has the potential to finish what Sakura started: to truly forge a bond between magical girls and demons, one that doesn’t just establish peace, but genuine cooperation. If she can help others as much as she lets others help her, then Momo’s sister, wherever she might be now, wasn’t lost in vain.

That’s an incredibly moving sentiment, but it wouldn’t be half as effective as it was if the show hadn’t been so damn good at practicing what it preaches. All throughout The Demon Girl Next Door we’ve seen all the ways Momo and Yoko look out for each other, all the ways they care for each other, all the ways they make each other’s lives better just by being in them. It’s in how protective Momo gets when Yuko’s getting harrassed by overzealous classmates, making sure she doesn’t become an object of exoticism or ridicule. It’s in how helpless Yuko is to resist proving healthy meals for Momo rather than let her subsist exclusively on junk food (and good lord do I feel called there: ”It’s just lunch, what does it matter what I eat?”) It’s in how upset Momo gets at the realization that she’s been pushing the still-frail Yuko beyond her physical limits without realizing. They look out for each other in so many ways, consciously and unconsciously, not for any selfish reason, but because they genuinely fucking care for each other. And nowhere is that better expressed than in the middle of episode 11′s dream invasion. Yuko is desperate to get through Momo’s door and into her heart, but she can’t tear it down with brute strength. She can’t force Momo to open up to her. So instead, she offers her a home-cooked meal, a sign of the companionship they’ve built and the multifoliate ways they’ve wormed into each other’s lives. Only then does Momo open the door to her heart and invite Yuko in. Not begrudgingly, not relenting to pressure, but genuinely happy that she doesn’t have to sit in the dark alone.

And Yuko, overwhelmed with emotion, can only sob out how scared she was Momo would never open her door, and how thankful she is that she finally did.

MY FUCKING HEART

Because that, in the end, has always been the beauty of The Demon Girl Next Door. Above all else, it’s a show about two absolute disasters who care for each other with all their heart and soul, in a million tiny ways they’re only just beginning to truly appreciate. It’s about the power of helping the people you care about and letting them help you in turn. And now, at the very end, Shadow Mistress Yuko and Chiyoda Momo finally forge that bond in explicit terms, promising that no matter what comes next, they’re gonna be there for each other. No more running, no more hiding, no more wallowing in the ways they’ve failed each other: they’re going to keep running forward, arm in arm, and push each other higher every step of the way until they finally reach their finish lines. And god almighty with a side of pickle chips, I just about lost my mind. These two are so fucking good together and I cannot handle it. I can’t handle Yuko offering to make Momo her subordinate to make their bond literal. I can’t get over Momo realizing she’s found someone she can genuinely rely on. I can’t get over the double-handhold promise that they’ll always be by each other’s sides, and they don’t need any fancy benefits or extravagant gestures as long as they have each other and holy shit this could not be more of a confession if it tried. And then Momo’s out there one-upping her flirting game with the coyest fucking one-liners (”I have high expectations, demon girl.”) and calling Yuko by her proper Shadow Mistress title to tease her, and then Yuko’s teacher make her re-write her challenge letter so it ends up reading like a love letter and SWEET BUTTERY CHRIST MOMO WAS TOTALLY READY TO GO ON A DATE IN THAT FINAL SCENE DID YOU SEE THAT DRESS GAH MY FUCKING HEART

*inhale*

My god, that was amazing. That was one of the most delightful ending episodes I’ve seen in quite some time and I still have the biggest goddamn smile on my face thinking about it. The Demon Girl Next Door was a show I never expected to be this good, but I’m so incredibly happy it proved me wrong. What a truly giddy ride this has been, and while I’m sad to see it go, I can at least be thankful for all the wonderful memories I made along the way.

Odds and Ends

-OH MY GOD THE BREAD FLOATING IN THE AIR AKJSDHKASHDAS

-”The fifth decimal place is rounded for convenience!” I love this gag, man.

-”Momo, put the wand away!” Okay, her tail going to block the wand was a nice touch.

-We interrupt this comedy anime to bring you Franz Kafka’s The Metamorphosis.

-”Lilith, sit.” aslkjdhaskdhsad stone cold motherfucker

-Honestly, I just managed to fix my laptop from having crazy error-shutdown issues, so I get Yuko’s fear here. You do not want your computer to be that flaky on you.

-”Sis, your tail!” IT’S SO EXPRESSIVE JESUS WEPT

-Momo’s so frazzled holy shit

-Yuko sleeping with Momo’s pictures scattered around her pillow. That is all.

-“DON’T TAKE ANY PICTURES!” I think that line delivery made me choke on my own spit, Jesus Christ.

-That buff cat man is… not okay.

-She always goes right for the tail, doesn’t she?

-I just realized that Lilith’s wearing a shirt that says “My Blood Sugar Level is Dangerous,” and, well, same.

-“Oh crap, I threw her on instinct!” I am CACKLING

-”Um, I think I need a little more time to process this!” aksjdhahkdsas

-I’m gonna be fretting over not knowing what her dad always said to her, aren’t I?

-”All you need to do is seduce her!” PHRASING

-Okay, the seaweed landing on Yuko’s head at the end of that transformation was a great touch.

-”Don’t give up, Yuko. Become the strongest and most loving girl in the world.” EVEN THE NARRATOR SHIPS IT AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

And with that, we’re done. Expect my closing thoughts later tonight, as well as what show will take its place!

[mysaldate]

About chapter 183...

Manga spoilers for KnY under the cut, just need to rant for a bit.

And so the time has come for KnY to fall down the rabbit hole so many other shonen series did. And it’s a damn shame. Up until the current arc, while there were a few slip-ups, Kimetsu no Yaiba was an amazing series that had cunning and powerful villains, realistic (within limits of man-eating demons and magical fighting styles) obstacles to overcome, one that paid attention to injuries of its characters and made a great deal about showing us the limits to human power.

HOWEVER

Ever since the Infinity train arc, something has been a little... different. The Infinity train arc was what started the very very annoying trend of downplaying a villain that was accidentally made too strong rather than actually dealing with his power and coming up with clever ways to overcome them. Enmu is estabilished early on as an excellent strategist. He came up with a way to use his blood demon art so subtly not even a demon slayer hashira suspected a thing, he made human lackeys since he knew the slayers would never kill a human and he even fused with the train to be  hard to kill. All of this is excellent set-up for what could be an incredibly interesting fight. Except... it was not. Because rather than having to work out his plan, Enmu simply... made a slip of tongue? Let Tanjiro in on his plan? And completely forgot about Nezuko and didn’t notice when the other slayers woke up? A character smart enough to come up with such an amazing and smart plan? Yeah, something is off.

And let me tell you, it did NOT get better overall.

There were minor highlights. The Red-light district arc was beautifully crafted and the fight was won on a relativelly reasonable conditions (except for Uzui being totally overpowered but that’s something less irritating than what they’re doing now). The fight with Hantengu and Gyokko had several Mary-Sue moments but no downplaying on the villains’ side. The Pillar Training arc had no major fight but it was a really good way to show the growth of our characters. Even in the current arc, there were good moments. The fight with Akaza was very satisfying and enjoyable even and the conclusion to it was perfect. Sadly, everything else about this arc is not.

The premise here, again, is outrageously good. Being trapped in the Infinity Fortress with Muzan and all his Upper Moons is a beautiful concept that could’ve made for SO. DAMN. MUCH. of interesting fights, character-building moments and terrifyingly epic power show-downs. And instead, it just rings hollow.

The main issue with this arc is how awfully downplayed Muzan and most of his demons were. The author suddenly decided to ignore a lot of what has been estabilished about Muzan, Nakime and their abilities in particular. Of course, Douma, Kaigaku and Kokushibou also got downplayed horribly but really, what pissed me off the most was Muzan and Nakime suddenly losing or forgetting about their abilities.

Look, I love KnY and I love the good side – or parts of it anyway. Tanjiro is a near perfect character, the first protagonist ever to actually pull me in and get me to cheer for him. Nezuko is, after Makai ouji’s Sitri, first character meant to be cute and actually striking me as such. I even came to like Inosuke to a certain extent. Yushiro and Tamayo were one of my favourites the moment they first walked on screen. The hashiras are a little wacky and I still think some of them are just completely unneccesary or wasted potential and I still find Zenitsu horribly cringy and annoying but if there ever was a series where I wanted the protagonist to achieve their goal, it’s this one. And that’s another reason why I’m so dissatisfied with what I’m getting.

And chapter 183 is exceptionally bad for such a huge multitude of reasons.

First of all, there’s Yushiro making up a plan against Nakime. Nakime, as we’ve been shown multiple times, knows of everything that happens in the Infinity Fortress. She can transfer people she doesn’t even see and she can send multiple people to various locations at once. Yet, Yushiro was somehow able to come up with a plan, share it with Mitsuri and actually go through with it, all without her noticing. At all. Because she suddenly turned blind for that one spot of the Fortress or something. And even if Yushiro used his illussionary ability, he still had to share the plan with Mitsuri. So there should be no way she wasn’t aware.

That’s another thing as well. As far as we are aware, it was Nakime’s job to keep the slayers separated. Again, she knows of everything happening in there. She knew about the other Upper Moons getting to a disadvantage. She knew about them being close to dying. And yet, she did nothing to get them away or to move the slayers out of their presence, she couldn’t move her hand and play a note on her biwa and just send them all anywhere else? Anyone else feeling cheated yet? Well buckle up because it gets even worse.

Because now we get to Muzan. And, yeah, remember the Demon Moons meetings? Remember that he can just snatch anyone’s head off, both lethally and non-lethally? Yeah, good thing you do because he doesn’t! Does this affect only demons? He still could’ve killed Yushiro ON THE SPOT. Does it only affect demons created by him? Still cool, he could’ve snatched Nakime’s head off without killing her and take Yushiro’s seal off her eye. But no, instead he’s not gonna do anything of that. He’s gonna mind-fight Yushiro inside her head and then he’s gonna kill her. And not even immediatelly kill like he killed Mukago or Kamanue or Rokuro, no, he will let her die slowly so Yushiro can keep using her power.

Remember when he pumped his blood into people by shoving a finger or a hand through their head? Well, good thing you do, because, yes you guessed it, HE DOESN’T. He scratched Tanjiro’s eye out and he that’s it. This is the demon who’s supposedly the most powerful demon EVER. And the most damage he’s done so far is scratch Tanjiro’s eye.

Remember when he could grab anyone from anywhere in the Fortress like he did with Wakuraba? Well, he doesn’t remember that either. He doesn’t NEED Nakime to access any place in the Fortress. He can get in and out as he pleases without needing her biwa AT ALL. He has more control over the place than Nakime herself. But guess what, we’re going to ignore all of that because if we actually stuck with the abilities estabilished for him, our heroes might need to think before they act and come up with clever plans and maybe there might even be some ACTUAL loss!

You know, not just a supporting character-type of loss! You know, like a loss of a character we really, whole-heartedly care about! A character we were given enough time to come to like and enjoy and support! A character we saw grow and get developed! How horrible!

Let it be known now that while the Infinity Fortress arc blessed me with countless (actually there’s somewhere below 500, I counted) pictures of my sweetheart Douma and gave me the TamaYushi angst I longed for, I still find it to be the worst arc KnY has had so far.

Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe all of this is a part of Muzan’s masterplan. Maybe he’s actually far more cunning and terrifying that we thought and we’re yet to see his true potential. But I seriously doubt that.

If anything like this is revealed, if we get to see any sort of reasoning for why nobody seems to have a brain anymore, I will gladly take this rant back and apologize but I kind of don’t feel like that will happen. This whole arc feels incredibly rushed and like the author just wants to be done with this series. It’s no longer the gem it was when it started and you can’t feel the love poured into every frame like it used to be. It’s just meeting the similar end as DGM.

How ironic that when I saw the first episode, my first initial thought was “Oh, this is just DGM for the new generation!” Now it seems KnY will meet the same fate, downplaying its villains, disregarding the rules it estabilished in its own universe, boring its creator and disappointing the more demanding parts of its audience.

To put it as simply as possible, there is no way the Demon Slayer Corps should be getting off this easily and there is no way Muzan and all his demons would be this stupid if they have already survived for long long centuries. Muzan doesn’t need Nakime and he doesn’t need his twelve demon Moons, he did just fine before he got them. So him suddenly forgetting about his powers and options is especially disheartening and irritating. At this point, we can only hope the creator realizes this and makes SOME effort to fix these mistakes otherwise, well, there goes another great series, ruined and corrupted by nothing but the bad writing and the author not knowing how to (or not bothering to, pick your favourite) make smart plans without disregarding their own characters’ abilities and parts of what makes them what they are. Muzan was written as an extremely powerful enemy, a cunning master of all things evil, a nightmare in human (or demon) form, something ancient and terrifying and able to spawn centuries of troubles for everyone around without ever – except for the one time – losing the upper hand. And that one time, he was STILL able to make it out alive and well.

Well, this was one extremely long rant and if you’ve read this far, kudos and a cookie to you. I may be expecting too much of a shonen series but am I really? Is it too much to ask for keeping some damn consistency at least in your characters if you can’t even be bothered to research for your timeline properly? The more I look into the Infinity Fortress arc, the more sudden plotholes and mistakes I find and the sadder it all gets. It’s like the author no longer has the strength to keep up the high quality series they started and if that’s actually the case, maybe a hiatus would be a better option than forcing themselves to continue and possibly ruin their entire franchise with a rushed and plothole-filled event.

On a slightly related note, you know what would be the one thing that would make me drop my jaw to the floor? A plottwist of unseen scale. Something on par with literally everything since the Infinity Train arc being STILL just a dream. Something on par with “Muzan” as he is now being actually the new Upper Five while the real Muzan stands back and enjoys the show. Something on par with this “Muzan” being just an illussion or a projection of something, or someone, who’s been in the Fortress this whole time while the real Muzan heads over to Urokodaki’s place to devour Nezuko. Or something even crazier. If you have any ideas, damn hit me with them, I want to hear all you have to say and feed this little flame of hope that this series is not yet entirely lost!

[arigatouiris]

head over heels // b.b — 02

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader [Female pronouns]

Warnings: swearing; angst [a lot of it]; mentions of drug abuse and explicit sexual references; mentions of anxiety, depressive thoughts, suicide, post-traumatic stress; fluff [in later chapters]

Follows events after Endgame, but Tony, Natasha, Steve, Loki are alive in this universe.

Word count: 1875

Author’s Note: Thank you all for getting back to me! And this chapter reveals more than one can think~ 

Those who want to be on the tag-list, do send me an ask~

02. kindness

✿

Never, in her service at BlueBells’ Cafe in the past six years, had any customer been rude to (y/n). It was just fortunate how everyone who walked in were kind to her, or either they were in too much of a hurry to not be rude. They came along, took their coffees and left, and her smile always made it easier for them to like her service and keep coming again. However, on Saturdays or Sundays, sometimes, grumpy customers do make an appearance.

When grumpy customers come in, (y/n) had the best way to handle them. She’d be extra nice, which was her specialty, and she’d give them a small free treat. An unnoticed action that had gone so well in the past few years, and she was grateful that she never got into trouble.

However, that Sunday morning, (y/n) had made a mistake. Everyone made mistakes, and she never quite understood why people blamed themselves when they did make a mistake. Errors are what made human beings fascinating, and considering the mistakes she had made in the past, not placing the lid properly on the coffee mug was comparatively less grave. The man who had ordered her coffee seemed like he was in a hurry, but just as he grabbed the cup, even before she was done placing the lid, (y/n)’s eyes widened and a gasp escaped her lips.

    “Sir—”

The coffee spilled onto the ground, earning looks from everyone already in the cafe. Including a certain brown haired coffee addict, who sat by himself at one of the far corner tables. Bucky’s eyes wandered to the coffee on the ground, and how the man in front of it, although unharmed, was now glaring at the kind barista.

    “I’m so sorry, sir. I’ll make you another one.”

    “How dare you! What if I was hurt?”

(y/n) stared at the man and blinked, “I’ll have this cleaned right away, and I’ll make you your coffee before that. I do apologize—”

    “Listen here, bitch,” (y/n)’s eyes turned to stone as he used the word. Bucky’s ears perked up, “I want to speak to your manager.”

On other occasions, Bucky would never allow himself to be seated when a barista is being yelled at for no actual fault of their own; he had seen what happened, how the man pulled the cup away even before she had placed the lid properly on to it. And being rude to a barista was simply wrong. Bucky knew, however, that if he went up and helped her, he would be acknowledging that he knew (y/n) better than her being just a barista.

She is, he thought bitterly, staring at his now empty cup of coffee, She is just a barista.

    “I want to speak to your manager!” He screamed, and Bucky felt his grip tighten on the cup.

    “I’m sorry, sir. We’re actually more of an egalitarian community with no rigid hierarchy. Whatever it is you want to tell the manager, you can tell me. I’ll be happy to help.” (y/n) smiled sweetly, before placing another cup of fresh coffee (with the lid intact this time).

The grumpy man grabbed the cup and walked off, and seeing how there was no one standing in line for a new order, or anyone entering the cafe, (y/n) went inside to get the cleaning essentials to clean the mess on the floor. Bucky was surprised with her reply to the man, wondering how women these days were bolder; not that he hadn’t seen bold women in the past. (y/n) never looked like someone who would reply snarkily, however, he was more than happy that she had. Bucky hated feeling relieved after learning that she was safe, even in her own devices, because this feeling only insinuated that he cared for her to an extent.

After cleaning the mess, (y/n) sat back on her stool in front of the counter, and continued reading. As if suddenly remembering that Bucky was in the cafe, she turned to him with wide eyes and offered him a kind smile—one of her kindest ones—which, Bucky returned halfway.

She approached him with the coffee mug and the cream cup, with the smile intact.

    “Are you alright, doll?”

He hadn’t planned on asking her that. Sometimes, our mouths get the better of us.

    “Absolutely. Another cup, Bucky?”

It was strange to Bucky on how she barely ever spoke about herself to him. She barely spoke to him, which Bucky knew was a good thing, but he wasn’t too comfortable with it. He couldn’t help but become curious about her, he couldn’t help but think what her deal was and why it was so easy for her to let him pass as a regular customer, even when he knew he had almost hit her the other day and she had dodged miraculously.

She poured him another up and stilled for a second. Bucky watched her and didn’t realize that she wasn’t smiling, and how her lips were slightly parted, how there were bags under her eyes and how up close, her hair wasn’t well kept. She looked sleep deprived, almost dehydrated even, and he couldn’t focus on either of these characteristics. However, what he did notice were her eyes.

They were hollow and empty.

Bucky’s eyes widened when she shifted her gaze to him, blinking a couple of times before revealing to him a stirrer she had brought along. She smirked again, making Bucky almost forget that she didn’t look okay, and began to draw on his cup.

    “You don’t mind that I draw these horrible things on your coffee, do you?”

Bucky couldn’t find the words to answer. He answered with a chuckle, and felt his hands turn sweaty. He didn’t need to notice these things about her; he barely knew anything about her, he didn’t need to, he didn’t deserve to. Clearing his throat, he thought of a reply.

    “I enjoy them. You’re very kind.”

She giggled a second later, “Oh, no. I’m just doing my job, Bucky.”

He didn’t know how much she meant those words. Twirling on her feet after the job was done, she went ahead three steps before pausing. Bucky watched her as she stilled, confused, and waited. Her shoulders went up and down, indicating she had taken a long breath, and (y/n) turned to face Bucky, no smile this time. His eyes were wide the whole time.

    “It’s on the house, Buck.” She had never called him ‘Buck’ before.

    “Why?” His voice was a whisper.

She giggled, “The wonderful thing is, it’s so incredibly easy to be kind. Always makes me feel better. It’s tit for tat.”

Bucky couldn’t respond in time with her scurrying off to her stool at the counter. Tit for tat? For what? He couldn’t understand. Staring at his new coffee cup, he noticed that there was another picture, a badly drawn bug like thing, which was perhaps a butterfly?

    “I tried to make a butterfly. I’m pretty sure you think it doesn’t look like one.” Came her voice.

Bucky chuckled, “It definitely doesn’t. Who gave you art lessons?”

(y/n) laughed and Bucky smiled. A half smile. He had been smiling half-smiles a lot ever since he met (y/n). He wasn’t too sure if he liked it, but he certainly looked forward to them. After another cup of coffee, it was time for him to leave. Bucky walked over to her and offered to pay, causing her to look at him with a deadpan. Bucky clicked his tongue and saw her waive off his bill, gesturing him to leave in a comical manner.

    “You want me to leave that badly, doll?”

She looked up at him and acknowledged his flirting, “Of course,” Bucky feigned a pained expression just as she said, “So that I can look forward to you coming in tomorrow.”

He stared at her and gulped once, learning that she had flirted back. She tilted her head sideways a bit before giggling at him. And she stopped a second after. She let out what seemed like a mix between a sigh and a regular breath and shook her head slightly.

    “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable—”

    “You didn’t. I’m sorry if I did—”

    “We should both stop apologizing to one another so much, Bucky.”

Bucky smiled another half-smile. He leaned against the counter and looked at her face. He took a good long look at the only person who was being kind to him not because he was the Winter Soldier.

There was no pity in her gaze. Just plain kindness.

    “I’ll see you tomorrow, doll.” His voice was low, and his eyes didn’t leave hers.

She couldn’t look away from the screaming from his eyes. However, just when he told her he’d see her tomorrow, they stopped. For a nanosecond, Bucky’s eyes ceased their screaming and just paused. Her eyes widened, and her face turned slightly red, a change that Bucky noticed. He cleared his throat and nodded once before turning to leave.

    “I’ll try drawing a wolf tomorrow.”

Bucky chuckled as he exited the cafe, his heart full of something. He knew he wouldn’t turn up the next day. He knew he couldn’t allow himself to become familiar to her, to someone who has been nothing but kind. She was fragile where he was not, she was kind where he was not, she was soft where he was not.

She was everything Bucky once thought he could dream of being, but here he was, desperately trying to run from it.

I’m a monster, he thought as he walked to his new apartment, ready to start the grind on repeat, pushing away the thought of a barista who was bad at art.

✿

As the door closed, the sound of the chime caused her smile to fall. (y/n)’s face was back to being what it always was—an unsmiling, rigid and nonchalant passiveness settled on an expressionless face. She sat on her stool and pretended to read, wondering why her mind was worried about a man’s screaming eyes.

She mustn’t care about Bucky; and if she did, if at all her heart went beyond the passiveness into an area that showed a tad bit of concern, she would stay away from him. If there was care, then she’d absent herself. Because she knew what happened to those she cared about.

I’m a monster, she thought, taking a sharp intake of breath. There’s no use pushing this away. She was running away from something that made no sense to her anymore, but yet, fear always prevented her from facing certain truths. And it didn’t matter now, since the people who could make her recall about those truths were no more. There was a reason to her smiling face, a reason so heartbreaking she knew that no one deserved to know.

She is kind because she knew that was not who she was. She could never be kind, kindness was not her. This was penance. Penance for a past that would haunt her till the end of time.

What hurt her most about her past was how flowers were permanently ruined for her.

✿

series taglist:

@miamua-posts  @yourwonderbelle @kissingg-incars @tanya-diggory @s-0-ldat @iheartsebastianstan @taliarosej00 @coraz0ndcristal @vlogsquadbss @azriels-forgotten-shadow @gogoca @undiadeestos @justtrynagetthroughlife 

[puppetwritings]

To Heaven and Back || Pt. 7 || Junhui

Pt. 1 // Pt. 2 // Pt. 3 // Pt. 4 // Pt. 5 // Pt. 6 // Pt. 7 //

➢ Word Count: 3626

➢ Genre: chinese mythology, fantasy, angst, fluff

➢ Summary: You had been a martial god, sitting at the helm of Heaven’s armies, for a very long time. So long, that you had began to forget what your human life was like but for some reason, recently, you were dreaming of past events again.

(A/N: check out the description or the thb ff tag on my blog for new chapters!)

——–

“Wen. Jun. Hui!”

Junhui was rudely pushed forward towards the Glass Lake. Yan An watched in fascination as Junhui lightly pushed off the rowboat, gently tapped the water’s surface, and landed back on the gazebo island. Junhui’s brows were furrowed at Yan An who let out a low whistle and clapped.

“As expected of the Lord of White Foxes! That was beautiful!” Yan An praised, taking a step back into the gazebo and sitting down beside the guqin with gusto.

Junhui walked forward and poured a cup of plum wine for Yan An. “Did you come onto my turf just to bother me, Lord Yan?”

“Lord Wen,” Yan An sighed, shaking his head. “Am I not allowed to do just that?”

“Not allowed.”

“Red foxes and white foxes have always been friendly with one another,” Yan An said. “What right do you have to draw the line now?”

“I’m not drawing the line between red foxes and white foxes,” Junhui said, sitting down behind his guqin. “I’m drawing the line between us.”

The two men stared at each other. Yan An huffed and drained the entire cup. “Cruel.”

“As you think.”

“I liked you much better when you were younger,” Yan An groaned, pouring himself another cup and pouring one for Jun. He leaned forward, pressing his hand on the guqin’s strings. “Hey, remember when we were younger? Even if the sky fell, we’d act like it was just a blanket. Reckless, rowdy—no one believed that we were respectable young masters from the two most powerful spiritual fox clans.”

“And that was a terrible time. You didn’t even like it back then. I just dragged you around,” Junhui said, sipping at the plum wine. “Why is it now that I’ve matured, you’ve become like this?”

Yan An flashed a bright smile. “I’m making up for the fun that was lost between us.”

“Fun,” Junhui scoffed.

Yan An leaned against his palm and reached out. He flicked Junhui’s forehead. “Yes. Fun.”

A soft spring breeze sent over a whiff of plum blossoms. The Glass Lake’s surface stirred. Far away, Junhui and Yan An could hear the low rumble of the horn that signaled it was the start of another hour. A few gong strikes signaled just how much longer it was until dinner time for the young foxes that ran off on daily adventures around the mountains.

“But,” Junhui spoke after a long moment. His slender fingers caressed the guqin. When Yan An looked up, Junhui’s handsome face carried a sorrowful smile. “What was destroyed can never be fully repaired. I don’t think I can ever return to how I was, so it is easier to move on than to dwell on the past.”

Yan An stared at his friend for awhile and then scoffed. “You are telling me not to dwell on the past? But what about you? Every day you’re trapped in the past. Why else did you seal off the Fox Den? Why else do you still refuse to marry? Junhui, you are hurt and scarred, I understand, but you’ve managed to rebuild the Nine-Tail Fox Clan up to this status and given us our own realm and haven. You can rest now. You can treat your wounds now. Don’t ignore them and let them fester.”

Junhui’s eyes stayed concentrated on the dark wood of the guqin. He saw his own reflection on the surface. Although it had been a few thousand years, Junhui still looked the same as he had when he begged for his parents to be spared. Only now, his features were slightly sharper and his eyes no longer glowed. That flippant attitude of his had long diminished and had been replaced by a sour and bitter personality that rivaled his grandfather.

“No.”

“Jun—”

“There aren’t wounds. Whatever wounds I had closed a long time ago. If my parents died, it was because it was in their fates. I may hate gods and deities now but I won’t take the demons’ side. My conscience is clear. As for her…”

“As for her?”

“I will repay her over a thousand times and through a billion lifetimes if I had to,” Junhui whispered.

“What do you even owe her, exactly? She was a mortal when you two met! What could she possibly have done that has made you this crazy for her?” Yan An curiously.

Junhui thought for a long time, his fingers fiddling with the strings of the guqin. “It was when the Nine-Tailed Fox Clan was decimated. You’ll remember this, but it was when the spiritual white foxes and the spiritual red foxes drew a clean line between themselves so the red foxes didn’t have to deal with this. They were also smart enough and were already closed off to the world.

“Your clan remained safe and unbothered, but ours was not as lucky. They nearly succeeded. Our clan became broken and scattered and those captured had their tails were cut off and left to die.

“I was half alive in the middle of the war ridden mortal realm when someone saved me. She took me in as a pet and during a time when she should have worried only for herself, she always looked after me and made sure I wasn’t experiencing any discomfort,” Junhui smiled at the memory. But the smile soon faded. “However, I was not strong enough to protect her.”

Yan An listened intently. Junhui had always refused to talk about those years after his parents’ death. The red coated nine-tailed foxes didn’t even realize the state their sister clan was in until it was too late. It was only when Junhui found his way to their den did they realize the catastrophe that happened.

“So she—” Yan An pursed his lips and reached out and patted Junhui’s shoulder. “But then…this isn’t a debt. You just—”

“Love her.”

Yan An remained silent as Junhui began to play. He stayed silent out of embarrassment. He had thought he knew the extent of how hurt Junhui was, but he didn’t. It was something that ran deep within him and had carved itself into Junhui’s being. It was the kind of injury that would never be repaired.

Just then, a young man appeared in a swirl of mist. He bowed down on one knee and saluted. “Lord Wen, I have something to report.”

The mournful sound of the guqin stopped abruptly.

“Our scouts have discovered irregular fluctuations in Heaven’s borders.”

“How so?” Junhui asked.

“Deities from above are departing in alarming numbers,” the guard continued. “Some seek sanctuary at Kunlun Mountain. Others have disguised themselves as mortals and now live among them. Our scouts aren’t sure what exactly happened, but it seems two martial gods have also been kicked out of Heaven.”

“Two?” Yan An gawked. “Wow, two? What in the world is going on up there—”

“Which two?”

“Um,” the guard glanced at his lord.

“Which two?”

“General Yu and General Y/N.”

Yan An glanced at Junhui and then looked back at the guard. He quickly dismissed the frozen guard and turned back to Junhui. “Jun, this—”

“I’m leaving.”

“Junhui, calm down—”

“I have to find her,” Junhui stood, stumbling over his own feet.

“Junhui,” Yan An grabbed onto him and pulled him back down. “Do you know what bringing her in means?”

“I don’t care what it means.”

“You’ve made enemies with some Demon Clans already but now you’re going to become enemies with the Celestial Clan? Are you trying to die?”

“It’s Y/N,” Junhui said. “I don’t care what happens but she can’t die.”

“What about the foxes? They’ve finally regained their stable life style!”

“If you are worried of getting implicated, the white foxes and the red foxes can become two separate clans again. It’s not as if they ever were truly merged in the first place.”

“What about the white foxes?”

“I will abdicate the throne,” Junhui stood again and resolutely flung Yan An off of him.

“Wen Junhui,” Yan An followed him. His fingers dug into Junhui’s arm. “Think about this clearly.”

Junhui’s amber eyes were narrowed. His own hand came up to grip Yan An’s. “I am thinking clearly.”

“Then speak as if you are!” Yan An bellowed angrily. “You’re going crazy just for someone who doesn’t know you exist!”

Junhui’s grip on Yan An’s hand loosened. He took a shaky breath. “Yan An, I know what I’m doing. I will not implicate the entire Fox Clans. They will not even know where she is. The Fox Den is not tangible, remember? Only those with permission may enter and find it.”

Yan An’s grip also loosened. His amber eyes relaxed to a dark brown again. He held Junhui’s shoulders and shook once. “Alright, I trust you”

“Thank you,” Junhui showed him a relaxed smile. With a swish of his sleeve, Junhui’s loose, regal clothing transformed into more form fitting robes. His sword sat on his belt. He nudged Yan An. “You stay here and watch over the Fox Den, Lord of the Red Fox Clan.”

Yan An looked at Junhui’s sparkling, excited eyes helplessly. He playfully pushed him. “Stay safe out there, Lord of the White Fox Clan.”

Junhui nodded and disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

Yan An fell back down onto the granite stool and began drinking from the bottle. How could he stop his friend now? How could he stop him, when that idiot looked alive for the first time in thousands of years?!

 “Mommy, mommy! There’s a person over there!”

“Well, don’t look, silly,” Wang Yihua, the mother of this five-year-old girl, let out a weary sigh. She felt that it was good for her daughter to be creative, but not too creative. It was never good for a girl to be too outspoken in this society.

“No, Mommy! The person looks like they’re sleeping!” Wang Liyin stomped her little feet. She tugged on her mom’s sleeve and let out a long huff of anger upon realizing her mother would not listen to her.

She turned and ran back towards where she had seen the young man in the river but her steps soon slowed when she saw someone stooping over him. A conscious man was always more intimidating than an unconscious one.

The conscious young man was about as tattered as the one that laid in the river, however his clothes was slightly less torn. He looked up at the light footsteps and his dark eyes landed on the little girl. He blinked sluggishly at her, as if not exactly registering her existence. He swayed and the girl took a decisive step forward, extremely cautiously.

He raised a bloodied hand as if to stop her from moving further. His handsome, jade-like face pulled into a pained smile. “Little sister…it wouldn’t do for you to come closer.”

The little girl shuffled. One the one hand she felt it was true but on the other hand she felt that it would go against her conscience to listen to this man. Her small lips twisted into a grieved frown and began to wobble.

“Really…” another word passed through his lips and disappeared into the soft wind.

The girl watched as the handsome young man fell on top of his friend and she gasped. Tears sprang to her eyes and she ran back to where her mother was washing clothes by the riverbank, shouting up a storm.

  ——–

Shu Weian’s eyes fluttered open and he found himself staring up at a thatched roof. His lips pursed into a frown and he tried to sit up, only to pathetically collapse again. There was a gasp and a little girl appeared into his view.

“Don’t move! Mommy said not to move!” the girl said, her small hands awkwardly hovering above him. “Um! Your friend is still asleep! Mommy said he should be okay now!”

“Friend…I…where am I?”

“You’re at Qiu Town,” the little girl answered.

Qiu Town? Shu Weian didn’t know where that was. Was that a town in the mortal realm? Or the demon realm? His head swam as the little girl bustled around excitedly and loudly, claiming that her mother was a doctor and the town was calm so whoever was trying to kill them would not think to search here!

“Ah!” Wang Liyin caught herself. “Sorry! Mommy told me not to say something like that.”

She looked guilty, but Shu Weian was too disoriented to react properly. Wang Liyin appeared within his sight again and announced her name before asking for his.

“My name…” Shu Weian grasped his head. “It’s…Shu…Shu Wei…”

“Shu Wei?”

“Shu Wei…An.”

“Weian? Then, it’s big brother Weian!” the girl happily exclaimed. “Big brother Weian, do you have any idea what your friend’s name is?”

Shu Weian could barely grasp his origins, must less know who his friend was. He could only remember he wasn’t human but something greater and he must have had a sister, or something similar. Was it actually a brother? His head throbbed when he thought and eventually Wang Liyin gave it up and skipped off to tend to his friend.

Wang Liyin went to the next bed and propped herself up, staring at the young man. This was the one who had collapsed when she first found that other big brother. He was even better looking. He looked like those…those scholarly youths! Attractive phoenix eyes that add a hint of maturity to that youthful face of his. He was like a prince that walked out of the stories that she always listened to!

As she stared, the young man began to stir. His brows furrowed slightly as if he were having a bad dream and he eventually emerged from it, gasping for air. He turned from one side to the next until his eyes landed on the young girl. He blinked at her in confusion before she gave him the same explanation that she had just given Shu Weian.

“My name is Wang Liyin! What’s yours?”

“I’m,” he paused a moment before smiling. “My name is Yu Lingjin.”

“Yu Lingjin,” the girl twisted shyly before a giggle escaped her. She stood abruptly. “I’m going to tell mommy that you two are awake! I will come back with medicine!”

Yu Lingjin nodded and watched as the girl cheerfully bounded off. His smile disappeared and he kicked the covers off before walking over to where Shu Weian laid, with difficulty breathing. He pulled a stool over and sat down beside him.

“How are you feeling?”

“Could be better,” Shu Weian replied. He frowned at him in distrust. “Who…”

Yu Lingjin’s eyes widened. “You don’t remember me?”

“Not quite.”

“I…it doesn’t matter right now. Just know that I am on your side,” Yu Lingjin said. “On our way down, I’m afraid I’ve lost your sister but I’m sure we’ll find her again.”

“So, I did have a sister!”

“Don’t get so excited,” Yu Lingjin mumbled when Shu Weian began coughing. “Yes, you have a sister. Her name is Shu Ningan. We’ll find her once we’re better, don’t worry.”

“How can I now be worried when you and I are like this?” Shu Weian grumbled.

“I’m glad you still kept your ill temper,” Yu Lingjin scoffed.

Shu Weian raised an eyebrow and slowly sat up, groaning and flinching along the way. He raised an eyebrow at Yu Lingjin. “What about you?”

“Huh?”

“You…lost something too,” Shu Weian said. He was unsure but he had a feeling. “Are you okay?”

Yu Lingjin’s expression changed immediately. His uptight, cold look seemed to melt and revealed a set of broken eyes. His lips were pursed as his eyelids fluttered in order to prevent the onset of tears. Shu Weian might not remember him well, but he knew that this guy was not the type to cry. He was barely even the type to laugh. Seeing him like this made Shu Weian shrink back a little but eventually he reached out a hand and squeezed Yu Lingjin’s shoulder.

“It’ll be okay. Um…” Shu Weian pursed his lips, uncertain of what to really say. “They’re strong.”

“Yeah…” Yu Lingjin’s eyes dropped. “You’re right…he wouldn’t…nothing bad would ever happen to that guy.”

Shu Weian felt a bit panicked as he watched the tears fall out of his friend’s eyes and he stumbled through various phrases and words that were considered “comfort” until Yu Lingjin scoffed, a muted smile on his face as he told Shu Weian to stop. Shu Weian breathed out a sigh of relief.

“So, are we just going to stay here for now?”

“Yeah. We don’t have a choice,” Yu Lingjin stood. “Once you get better, I’ll fill you in. Until then…just rest.”

Shu Weian nodded and watched as Yu Lingjin went back to his own bed and laid down. The young man looked oddly broken as he curled in on himself and quietly cried. Shu Weian suddenly felt that he got the better end of the stick. Perhaps remembering was much, much worse.

 It almost felt like you were encased in a thick gel-like substance when you woke. Only when you were near-full conscious did you realize it was worse than that—you were buried in the ground. You began to kick and struggle and slowly you felt the dirt shift away from you. Someone must have thought you were already dead and helpfully buried you. Unfortunately, you were very much alive. You weren’t sure how because you were sure you had been buried for awhile and would have suffocated anyway, but you were alive.

When you emerged from the ground, you looked around in a daze and met the eyes of a young martial artist who stared at you with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. You immediately jumped away from him but he quickly gulped and shouted “it’s okay!”

You felt that you should be the one to say that to him.

“I—uh—I felt some energy around here. It turns out that it was you…in the ground,” the young man continued, staring at you strangely. He quickly bowed. “My name is Wen Junhui.”

“I…um…” you fumbled for words and were unable to come up with anyway. You sheepishly looked down. “I’m not sure what my name is, sorry.”

Junhui looked at you with pity and awkwardly shuffled. He scratched the back of his head. “You are injured. How about you come back to my cabin and you can stay there until you recuperate.”

You nodded slowly and attempted to stand, only to topple back down and flinch horrible. There was something wrong with your legs.

Junhui’s eyes flashed before he knelt and good-naturedly offered to carry you. You shyly accepted his offer and couldn’t help the rush of familiarity as he carried you higher up the hill.

“Mm, for now, can I call you Y/N?” Junhui asked.

“Yes, I suppose,” you mumbled. “Thank you for doing this. You really didn’t have to help a stranger…”

“Martial artists will always help out if we can,” Junhui said, a happy tilt in his voice. “Besides, I couldn’t just leave you out alone. Perhaps you are a flower spirit that was just completely formed. You’d basically be a child.”

“Even more a reason to leave me if I were some demonic creature…”

“Spirits can cultivate the righteous path,” Junhui chuckled.

You nodded. That much you knew and could remember. It seemed that you could remember the basics of the world, but your own memory came up blank.

The cabin that Junhui lived in was homely and had obviously been patched and maybe even rebuilt several times. You were gently placed down on a chair before Junhui left your side to hang up his sword. He came back a moment later and sat beside you.

“I’m actually quite skilled at medicine too. I will take a look at you and see how I can help you,” Junhui said, a gentlemanly smile on his face.

You nodded once and watched him as he checked your pulse. “Young master—”

“Just call me Junhui.”

“Then…Junhui,” you slowly tasted his name on your tongue and found it somewhat familiar, “May I ask where we are?”

“Just outside Changan,” Junhui said with a smile. He took his hand back and hummed. “I will prescribe some medicine of the martial world. You might not know it well, but just trust me, it will help.”

You nodded slightly and continued to look at him imploringly.

“Yes?”

“It feels…almost as if we have met before,” you carefully said.

“But you do not remember me?” Junhui tilted his head. You nodded. He chuckled. “Then that feeling doesn’t matter. All that matters right now is recuperation.”

You stared into Junhui’s eyes and found them somewhat hypnotizing. Suddenly, you felt that he was right. This familiar feeling could be revisited later.

Junhui left momentarily and came back later with the herbs he needed to make the medicine. You had fallen asleep on the bed with the covers neatly covering you, just as he had left you. He walked over and sat beside you. His eyes closed as his hands hovered over your legs, sending a warm energy through them and healing the cracks and fractures. If he hadn’t sensed you earlier and quickly numbed you of the pain before you emerged, he was afraid you would actually die.

Junhui let out a soft sigh of relief and pushed your hair back from your forehead, a small smile on his face. You might be a little broken now and not quite as heroic as you used to be, but he was still content like this. And once you were better…well, Junhiu’s eyes flashed dangerously, once you were better there would be hell to pay.

[ninja-librarian]

Commission for @craftingandcats! Featuring Ryou, Zakuro, and their first pregnancy!

For info about commissions, click here!

In all honesty, this situation they were in was completely unexpected. Nothing like Ryou and Zakuro had discussed and planned many times. Emphasis on unexpected and unplanned, but most definitely not unwanted.

That was what both Ryou and Zakuro were thinking but not saying as they sat on the edge of the bathtub, staring at the pregnancy test in Ryou’s hands and the pale pink plus sign that stared up at them

But Ryou, ever the scientist, ever logical, ever the skeptic—especially when he thought things were too good to possibly be true—said softly, “You know, uh, these things… They sometimes give a false positive.”

“I knew you’d say that,” Zakuro said a bit flatly as she stood up, walking out of the bathroom. Ryou leapt to his feet to rush after her, apologies on his tongue, but before he could get a word out, Zakuro was back in the doorway, a plastic bag from the local pharmacy in her hands. She pulled out six more pregnancy tests—each dated with a sticky note—and laid them out on the bathroom counter.

Seven in total, including the one Ryou still held.

Seven little pale pink positive signs staring up at them.

Ryou stared, stunned, with open-mouthed awe as he looked at the tests on the counter, then the one in his hand, and then Zakuro.

“I knew you’d say that,” Zakuro said softly. “Because that’s what I’ve been telling myself for the past week.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, then they both broke into grins, throwing their arms around each other, laughing as they kissed.

“You’re pregnant!” Ryou exclaimed.

“I’m pregnant!” Zakuro echoed, wiping away a tear from her eye. “I’m pregnant… We’re going to be parents. A little sooner than we talked about, but…”

“No, no buts,” Ryou said, kissing her again. “This is perfect. Have you made a doctor’s appointment yet?”

“Not yet,” Zakuro said. “Let’s do it now. Find a spot on both of our schedules. I want you there.”

Ryou held her tight. “There is nowhere else I could possibly want to be than at your side.”

*****

A week later, they had a due date, had heard their baby’s heartbeat, and a prescription for neonatal vitamins.

They also had a long talk about when and how they were going to tell their friends.

“After three months was what the doctor recommended,” Zakuro said. “That’s about six weeks from now.”

Ryou nodded. “Considering we managed to hide the fact that we were dating for nearly seven months, six weeks should be easy enough.”

So they thought.

It became a little more difficult than they initially thought it would be.

“Let’s go out for sushi on Friday night,” Keiichiro suggested when he and Ryou discussed taking their wives out for dinner.

“Uh…” Ryou said awkwardly, not sure how to subvert this. “Actually, didn’t you say that you and Rin wanted to try the desserts at that new little cake shop? There’s a ramen place across the street from there.”

“Oh, that’s a good idea.” Keiichiro agreed nodding.

Ryou heaved a sigh of relief, knowing full well he dodged a bullet.

Two weeks later, they faced a similar issue at game night, and the wine started to pour.

“How many glasses do we need?” Lettuce asked the room. However, she frowned slightly as Zakuro did not raise her hand. “You don’t want any, Zakuro?”

“Uh, not tonight,” Zakuro said, trying hard not to bite her lip or look nervous.

“Are you sure?” Ichigo pressed. “It’s your favorite brand.”

“No,” Zakuro said. “I’m… driving. I’m driving tonight. Designated driver.”

At that, the subject was dropped.

However, a few days later, Zakuro politely declined sampling a new tea Mint had acquired for the Café, as it contained caffeine.

“I’m avoiding caffeine,” Zakuro explained. “It’s healthier, you know.”

“But you practically live on caffeine with your schedule,” Kisshu pointed out.

“Yeah, Zakuro Onee-Chan would have to be pregnant to give up caffeine, na no da!” Pudding said, cheerfully oblivious.

Ryou spat out a mouthful of tea in shock and Zakuro just stood frozen with her actress smile plastered on her face but with wide eyes.

The entire room was quiet, then,

“OH MY GOD YOU’RE PREGNANT!” Mint screeched.

And that was how they told their friends.

More or less.

*****

They didn’t forget to tell Taka.

No, they didn’t plan to tell Taka.

There was a huge difference.

He noticed. Oh, yes, he noticed.

First it was some minor changes in routine. Ryou took care of the litterbox—which honestly Taka didn’t mind, given how much he hated Ryou—and the two were even more cuddly and close than Taka could ever remember.

Taka was concerned because Zakuro started taking pills every day, though. She shouldn’t; pills were the most evil thing in the world and Taka hated pills about as much as he hated Ryou, the vet, the vacuum cleaner, and the word ‘diet’. Pills were for illness and feeling unwell. But Zakuro did not necessarily look unwell, even though Taka heard her vomit early in the morning—way too early to be fed.

For once, he understood the humans’ frustration with him throwing up hairballs in the middle of the night.

Food was also a change. A bad change. A horrible, no good change.

See, Taka loved fish. Ate it for every meal.

But that came to an end when Zakuro went to prepare Taka’s dinner, popped open the can… and immediately dropped it and ran from the room, retching and gagging and yelling for Ryou.

Ryou, the ungrateful little wretch who had invaded Taka’s home and stolen his human, threw away the can of perfectly good cat food. Without letting Taka even having a nibble. Then he left the apartment, coming back with more cat food cans.

What was inside was not fish. Not even close.

It was chicken.

It was after nearly a week of being served this inferior food that Taka began to notice something else.

Zakuro smelled funny. She smelled too much like Ryou.

Taka was full of rage and indignation.

How dare he?

“Oh dear,” Zakuro said, frowning at the yowling cat. “Taka really doesn’t like the new food, does he?”

“Ignore him,” Ryou said, continuing to eat. “He’s yelling at me. It’s not about the food.”

Zakuro frowned. “Cat genes?

“Uh huh.”

“So, what exactly is he yelling at you about this time?”

“I’ve ruined your scent. You smell too much like me now, even after a shower. You should smell more like you. And by that, he means ‘more like Taka’.”

“Ah,” Zakuro glanced at the angry cat again. “He’ll understand when the baby comes though, right?”

“The baby will smell a lot like you usually do, and we could bring a blanket with the baby’s scent on it first,” Ryou said. He reached across the table, taking Zakuro’s hand, giving her a smile. “Don’t worry. In just a few months, we’ll all be a big, happy family. Or, at least, the three of us humans will be happy and Taka will just be as content as he gets.”

Zakuro laughed.

Taka stormed off, outraged at being laughed at and ignored, glaring at them both as he ate his chicken.

He refused to admit that it tasted good.

*****

One of Zakuro’s favorite things about being pregnant—and there was not many of those favorite things—was that every night as they laid in bed together, Ryou put his hand on her belly. She teased him about this initially, because she wasn’t even beginning to show and the baby was smaller than a peanut.

“Doesn’t mean it’s too early to bond with my child,” Ryou retorted. She had laughed then.

But now… Now it was the thing she looked forward to every night. Lying there in the dark with Ryou’s warm hand on her stomach, their child growing there.

It was often in those moments where she wondered whether the child would be a boy or a girl, what he or she would look like. Would that child be born with her dark hair or Ryou’s blond hair? His bright blue eyes or her dark gray eyes? Who would the child take after personality wise?

She loved the quiet, knowing full well it was the calm before the storm. Soon there would be a crying baby at all hours, diapers to be changed, and feedings. And she would welcome it gladly.

But for now, they’d enjoy the time they had to just be Zakuro and Ryou before they became Mom and Dad.

It was a moment like this where Zakuro felt the baby move for the first time, and the first time the baby kicked was against Ryou’s hand, making them both smile.

It was also these moments where they talked a lot about the baby. About what color to paint the nursery, about how they would parent, about names.

The discussion of names came up when Zakuro was about five months pregnant, her belly round and it was much clearer that a baby was growing, was coming.

It was Ryou who brought it up, which surprised Zakuro to some extent, the whisper that broke the silence in the dark.

“If it’s a girl, could we… could we name her after my mom?”

Zakuro, who had been dozing off, was suddenly wide-awake.

“Your mom?” She said. She thought for a second. “Your mom’s name was Lily, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then do you want it to be in English like hers, or the Japanese ‘Yuri’?”

“Could we do a variation of ‘Yuri’? Sayuri?”

“Small lily,” Zakuro said in English. She nodded to herself some, humming. “I like it. Shirogane Sayuri. And if it’s a boy, would you like to name him after your dad?”

Ryou was quiet and for a moment Zakuro thought he fell asleep, but then he spoke, “I don’t know. I don’t know if I can hear his name again.”

“Ah,” Zakuro whispered. “That’s why you wanted the variation of your mother’s name.”

“Yeah.”

She reached over and took his hand, squeezing it gently. “You know… I know we talked about not finding out the gender. But do you want to? It might help in choosing a name.”

Ryou was quiet again, then he said, “Can we? I know you wanted to be surprised…”

“I wouldn’t suggest it if it wasn’t possible, and if I didn’t mind.”

“Then let’s do it.”

A week later, they held the sonogram of their daughter, sitting on the couch together, just staring at it, smiling.

“Sayuri,” Zakuro whispered.

Ryou kissed her cheek, repeating, “Sayuri…”

*****

It was about seven months into her pregnancy, and Zakuro had already stopped doing appearances, signings, and performances, focusing on her health and the baby.

But there was also too much time on her hands.

She tried to fill it with her friends, reading, binge-watching shows, and preparing the baby’s room. But there was also a lot of time for self-doubt and fear to seep in.

She couldn’t stop thinking about her own childhood, the nannies and the dinners alone and desperate for any glimpse of her parents, let alone a hug or good-night kiss.

Zakuro thought of her own busy schedule, and Ryou’s. What if she couldn’t balance a career and being a mother?

Worse, what if she was a terrible mother?

And that was how Ryou came home to find Zakuro sitting on the couch, sobbing into her hands. He dropped the groceries he was carrying and rushing to her side.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, panicking. “Are you in pain? Is it the baby?”

Zakuro, her face still covered by her hands, shook her head, huffing and sniffling. “I’m going to be an awful mother…”

Ryou hugged her, and said, “No, you’re not.”

“I am!” Zakuro exclaimed, lifting her puffy, red-eyed face. “My parents were awful, and I’m going to be just like them. I’m going to utterly fail our child!”

“No, you’re not,” Ryou repeated. He cupped Zakuro’s face in his hands. “You are brilliant and wonderful and loving. You’re going to be an amazing mother. You love Sayuri so much already. And we’re in this together, you know? I’ve got my worries about becoming a parent, too, if that helps.”

Zakuro frowned at him. “What do you have to worry about? Your parents, they were so kind and loving and attentive…”

“They were,” Ryou agreed. “And that’s what I’m worried about. That I’ll never be as good as a father as my dad, that I won’t be able to do things as well as my mom. I’m going to ask myself every day, what would my mom do, what would my dad say? I’m worried that I’m going to fail and make a ton of mistakes. And I know I will. And so will you. But we’re going to be doing this together, you know. So it’s okay. We’re going to make mistakes, and that’s okay, as long as we know we’re allowed to make mistakes and our kids know that we’re allowed to make mistakes because we’re human. That’s just how life works. Everything—and everyone—will be okay.”

Zakuro sniffled and nodded. “So you’ll ask what your parents would do or say and do it, and I’ll ask what my parents would do or say and do the opposite.”

Ryou chuckled and hugged her. “Yeah, that’s what we’ll do.”

She leaned her head on his shoulder, still heaving slightly. Ryou just rubbed her back comfortingly.

He whispered in her ear, “You’re going to be a great mom. I just know it.”

She took comfort in his words, knowing he’d never lie to her about anything, let alone something as big as this.

All she could do was her best.

And that was what she was going to give.

*****

Ryou stood over the little bassinet, smiling as he looked down at Sayuri, sleeping soundly.

She was so tiny, so beautiful.

He loved her.

He loved her so much.

This beautiful little creation of his and Zakuro’s.

He glanced over his shoulder at his sleeping wife, then back to his daughter. He carefully picked her up, holding her close, making gentle shushing sounds as she stirred, yawning but cuddling in against his chest, her eyes staying closed the whole time.

Ryou sat down in the rocking chair beside the hospital bed, just rocking back and forth, feeling his daughter’s warmth and weight and presence.

How had he been so lucky?

“You sweet, beautiful angel,” He murmured. “What did I do to deserve you?” He glanced up at Zakuro, and smiled. “Either of you?”

To his surprise, the corner of Zakuro’s mouth lifted. “I’m still trying to figure that out myself.” She said softly, opening her eyes.

Ryou chuckled, shaking his head.

Zakuro shifted slightly, her smile growing. “Now this is a sight I thought too good to be true. I love it. Watching you hold our baby.”

“Well, you’re going to see it every day for the rest of her life.”

Zakuro let out a laugh at that. “Yeah, right. She’s going to be too big to hold eventually.”

Ryou instinctively held Sayuri closer. “Lies. Lies and slander. She’s my baby girl and she’ll never be too big to hold.”

“You hear that, Sayuri?” Zakuro crooned. “You haven’t been on the outside for five hours yet and your Daddy is completely and totally whipped.”

Ryou grinned at her. “For my two favorite girls? Completely and totally.”

Zakuro smiled and she drifted off back to sleep, the new family resting and relaxing and just enjoying these first few moments together.

They were more than ready to begin their new lives together, happy as happy can be.

And Taka? Well, he was just going to have to deal. And, eventually, he could admit that the weird human kitten wasn’t all that bad.

At least, he thought that until Sayuri learned to crawl.

But that was another story.

[evilsnowswan]

Summary: [Rumbelle Mermaid!AU] based on this prompt by repeatinglitanies: “In a world where people are aware of the existence of mermaids, Belle is a mermaid who lives in the world’s largest aquarium along with other sea creatures. She enjoys looking at the little humans who come to visit, especially a floofy haired boy who comes every week with his father….” An injured Belle is captured and brought to Gold and Milah’s aquarium. Gold is a marine biologist dedicated to protecting the creatures there, Milah wants to turn a profit, and their son has his own ideas about how to befriend a mermaid.

Rating: G/Teen Link to full story: [Read on AO3] Previous Chapters: [Coverart][Chapter 1][Chapter 2][Chapter 3][Chapter 4][Chapter 5][Chapter 6][Chapter 7][Chapter 8][Chapter 9][Chapter 10][Chapter 11][Chapter 12][Chapter 13][Chapter 14][Chapter 15][Chapter 16]

Current Chapter: 17/? Chapter Summary: Milah's back - and she's on a mission.

Chapter 17

The apartment was a mess; the books were a mess. Admittedly, the latter less so than she had anticipated, which was nice. Unlike her husband, Killian still tried.

Murchadh had no reason to try and impress her anymore.

Well, he’d surprised her, stunned her even, she had to give him that. Just as the messy kitchen, his obsession with the creature shouldn’t have come as a surprise exactly, but the extent of it had still rendered her speechless.

“She responded well to the aloe?” Milah looked up from her half-finished Southern Cobb salad and smiled at her husband. “I’m glad.” She watched him lower his fork, mashed potato and sauce dripping onto his plate. He closed his mouth and swallowed.

“Uh, yes. Very… well.” His eyes narrowed, but only by a fraction.

“How nice.” She dabbed at the corners of her smile with her napkin. “Who would have thought mermaids got sunburn?!” She turned to Baelfire. “That’s why we always put on sunscreen at the pool, Baelfire.”

Baelfire rolled his eyes as he took a big gulp of his soda. She didn’t normally allow soft drinks in the house, let alone at the dinner table, but, as this was their first proper night home and the last weekend of Baelfire’s summer break, she had made the exception. She wouldn’t, however, let him forget his manners.

Murchadh beat her to it.

“Bae!” He put his fork and knife down and leaned closer to look directly at their son. “Don’t be rude to your mother, my boy.”

She almost felt proud of him then – before he ruined the effect with a push-over smile. He was such a softie.

“Sorry.” Baelfire sat back in his chair, looking everything but. Tanned and freckle-faced, he fought back that cheeky grin she loved so much. For once, his goofy ears weren’t red from nerves or anxiety, but from being a regular little boy on his summer vacation. She would take all the ripped jeans, grass stains, and busted lips – and even tolerate a little backtalk every now and then – if it meant her little man finally acted like one.

“Baelfire, please sit up straight and finish your dinner,” she said.

The boy huffed before stuffing a forkful of potato in his mouth. He finished chewing his food in silence, then pushed away his plate. “I’m full.” Catching her eye, he quickly added, “May I be excused?”

She and Murchadh shared a look across the table.

“You may. But please, play in your room quietly.”

“But –, Can’t I–?”

“You heard your mother.”

What had gotten into Murchadh tonight? Whatever it was, Milah decided she liked it.

“Fine.” With a sigh, Baelfire got up and carried his plate to the sink. Stepping on the stepping stool, he washed his hands and dried them. “Can I go play Star Wars?”

Murchadh’s eyebrows shot up, his fork frozen halfway to his mouth. He looked so baffled and confused, it made her laugh. She quickly stifled her amusement to a cough and hid it behind her hand. “Alright, Baelfire, but only fifteen minutes. And please, brush your teeth and put on your pajamas first.”

“Okay.” He hopped off and dashed out of the room, hollering “Will you come and tuck me in, Papa?,” back over his shoulder.

“A gift from his grandmother.” Milah took a sip of her wine and crossed her legs under the table. “All the boys are playing it now.”

“Uh-huh.”

“He had a lot of fun, you know?” She set her glass down, ran a finger along the rim. “His butterfly is getting better. He’s got great wingspan and power for his age, Murchadh. Maybe, once school starts over in town, swim team tryouts might not be such a bad idea. It’ll be good for him. What do you think?”

He liked when she asked his opinion. She hadn’t done that in a long time. Judging by the creases on his forehead, it seemed to confuse him even more than the casual mention of Star Wars in their kitchen.

She blinked, played with an earring.

“Well, if… if that’s what Bae wants, yes. I mean, if he would like to do it… sure.” He let out a breath.

 “I agree.” She wet her lips. They tasted like wine, the fresh and fruity a clean counterpoint to her salad’s earthy, smoky flavors. “We could ask him tomorrow?”

He shoveled more potato into his mouth, taking his good time to chew. “Fine with me.”

Well, this wasn’t going as smoothly as she had hoped, but he’d always been slow that way. She would have to give him some more time– to adjust, to warm up to the changes ahead.

“So,” She poured herself another glass. When she gestured to refill his, he covered it and shook his head. He wasn’t big on booze. Not anymore. She set the bottle down and smiled, leaving her own drink untouched as she leaned forward, moving her plate and resting her arms on the table. “Has Dr. Whale set up a follow-up appointment yet?”

“Erm, no, actually. He… he’s still looking for… erm, asking around, I guess.”

“It has been weeks though, hasn’t it?” She rested her chin on her hand, eyeing him. “He’s usually more invested.” She took care to add a pinch of concern. “That’s not… like Whale, is it?” Marriage was like cooking. You just had to know what to add when, and how much salt was too much. As long as you used what the recipe called for and had good intuition about the rest, the dish would come out perfect.

“It’s complicated. She’s… her anatomy is different.” He put his knife and fork down for good, folded his napkin and left it next to his plate.

“Really? Different how?”

Hook, line, and sinker. He considered her, but she had already won. She could see it in the way his body language changed. He no longer slouched in his seat, but sat up with his back straight, his shoulders back, and head up when he met her gaze.

“You– you remember the Legend of the Treaty?”

“Yes, of course.” She did not. Something about mermaids… or sirens, sinking ships, some fish gore? That might have been another one. Or a weird movie one sleepless night too many. “I heard it often enough.” She touched his arm and laughed. “What about it?”

His eyes lit up. So much like Bae’s – when she let him have a rare Apollo Bar or brought home a new book on marine life. “You remember how the story described mermaids as having a kindred connection with... with dolphins and humans alike? How they were somehow both and neither? It’s like that.”

“Oh, how so?”

“She’s… human-looking, at least on the outside, but her spine’s... more like a dolphin’s. You know, both and neither, Ocean Ambassador to Land, that sort of thing. It’s fascinating!” Hands steepled, he braided and unbraided his fingers over his plate. “But it’s also the problem. Her spine… it leaves her vulnerable.”

“If this is about Gus Gaston again… I said I was sorry.” She didn’t raise her voice even though she wanted to. Now was not the time to fight. “It… she might have hurt the children, Murchadh. Wounded animals–”

He raised a hand to silence her and, for once, she let him. If mother had taught her one thing it was when to bite her tongue. “No, no, Milah! It’s not about that. Though the situation could have been handled better.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, shook his head like a wet dog. “What’s done is done. The infection would have spread further and… what I’m concerned about right now is that, in the healing process, she’s… changed her swimming and... it’s taken its toll on her body. If– If we don’t fix this, she might die.”

The death of the mermaid would ruin everything. It would be their undoing. It would cost their son his future. She wouldn’t let that happen.

His eyes were wide and worry-filled. He looked at her like he’d done so many times before, lost, and desperate for comfort and guidance; desperate for someone to take the lead and row the boat away from the dangerous coastline into safe waters.

She reached for Murchadh’s hands. “What do we have to do?”

=====

He couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t so much that he’d expected to spend the night in his study or on the sofa, and instead found himself in the Master bedroom, sleeping next to his wife for the first night in what felt like forever. As he lay on his back staring at the ceiling and listening to her sleep, Gold marveled at the strange turn his day had taken, wondering what had prompted Milah’s sudden change of heart.

Ever since she and Bae had returned from Montgomery Manor, Milah was nothing but understanding and supportive. She even showed an interest in his work. Something she hadn’t done in years.

He rolled over and studied her face. Her eyes were closed, her jaw relaxed, her lips their natural shade and slightly parted. She had taken her time combing out her curls at the vanity and left them down for bed, the soft waves fanning out around her like dancing corals in a warm current. She looked so much younger; so much more like the girl he’d admired from afar every day one summer; the girl who bravely braced any wave; the girl he’d fallen in love with.

With a shaky breath, he touched her cheek, brushed a curl behind her ear. She smelled soft and powdery, a whiff of coconut filling the dark space between them. “What are you thinking, Milah?”

While he didn’t get an answer in so many words, he got one over the next few days.

Milah’s positive attitude was unwavering, her newfound enthusiasm and dedication heartwarming. She had borrowed some of the books from his study, the old tomes and scrolls he’d inherited from his aunties, reading up on all the myths and legends.

More often than not, long after they had tucked in Bae for the night, he would find his wife in her office upstairs, pouring over ancient scribbles, runes, and stories; squinting at fading ink and scrutinizing every picture and drawing in the harsh light from her computer and desk lamp; her reading glasses pushed up on her head, her curls wild, and eyes pink from exhaustion, looking for a clue; looking for anything that might help them save Indigo.

Sometimes, during the day, he would walk in to find her sprawled out on the living room floor in her work clothes with her heels kicked off and set aside, in the middle of a heated debate on mermaid or marine mammal physique and behavior with Bae; open books, notepads, and pens strewn all across the once pristine carpets as they put forward opposing arguments to argue for their respective viewpoints like members of debate teams during a competition.

He still wasn’t sure what had brought the change in her about, but he felt himself warming up to it– and to her– more and more with every passing day. Perhaps their son had finally gotten through to his mother during their time away. Whatever the reason behind it, it had brought them closer as a family and Gold felt grateful for that. More than anything, he wanted his son to grow up loved and happy, and to give him the best childhood he possibly could.

Since their return, they had spent more time together, both he and Milah making sure to plan their work around important things like family dinners and weekend trips. Those had become more frequent again recently. Just like when Bae was little. They went to the beach, visited the ship museum in Piper’s Cove, took Bae and his friend Emma Nolan to the movies. Milah had met up with Mrs. Nolan a couple of times to talk about the school in town, set up meetings with the principal and the swim coach.

Overall, things were looking up. The only damper on his mood was that they still hadn’t found a solution to Indigo’s problem.

“Coming to bed?” He stood in the door, watching Milah copy down something from an open book in front of her and cross-checking whatever it was in another. Eyes fixed on the page, jaw set, and pen poised like a steak knife, she hadn’t heard a single word or noticed his presence. On her desk, the sandwiches he’d brought her for dinner sat untouched on their plate; the tea cold in the teapot beside it. “Milah?”

She looked up briefly, her mind occupied and far away. He’d always admired this about her – her grit and determination, and strong work ethic. Once Milah set her mind on getting a job done, there was no stopping her. She wouldn’t rest until she had accomplished her goal. It was the competitive swimmer in her, she said.

“Your dinner is getting cold,” he jested, stepping into her office and indicating the abandoned tray. “It’s past midnight. Come to bed?”

She frowned at her notes, possibly clinging to her train of thought by the handrail. “In a minute. I just– come look at this!”

“One look, and then you’ll let me fix you a warm milk.” He moved behind her chair, kneading her shoulders as he leaned over to see what she’d been working on. “Eviction notice for the resident workaholic. Effective immediately.”

He recognized the pages she’d worked on. All different versions of the merpeople creation story. She’d copied down some paragraphs, highlighted sections here and there, and crossed out some words. Or maybe she had meant to underline them. Milah was a steam engine when fired up, her mind outracing her body.

“We can pick this up tomorrow.”

She gave in to his touch, rolling her shoulders under his hands as though to help and sighing as he carefully worked out the knots and massaged away the tension. “Okay. Fine. …How about you spice up that milk a little? I could use a nightcap.”

“Some honey for my bee?”

“Murchadh.”

“Alright, alright. Just joking.” He gave her shoulders one last squeeze. “I’ll be right back. You close those books and shut that machine down.” He nodded at her laptop. It glared at him reproachfully; hard blue light and blinking cursor. She had looked up someone, begun writing them a message. “Who is… The Mills Foundation?”

“People who might know how to help.” She closed the laptop and rolled her neck. “Maybe.”

“That’s great.” He pressed a kiss to her curls. “Thank you.”

“I need a better chair.” She stood, bookmarked her place in four books and one scroll with yellow post-it strips, and took his hand to lead him out of the room. “This one’s killing my back.”

“We’ll get you one tomorrow.” He grinned. “Or maybe a Stability Ball.”

“Absolutely not. I hate those things.”

“I know you do, Manatee.” He smirked. “A new lamp then. You’re ruining your eyes.”

“A new lamp I can live with,” she said, sinking down on the kitchen bench, taking Bae’s usual spot at the table. Their boy was at a sleepover at the Nolan’s house. “The black one is rubbish.” She rubbed her eyes. “And ugly.”

“Your mother gave you that lamp for Christmas.” He got out a pot, milk, and honey, and set them on the counter; then took her favorite mug from the sink and rinsed it. Bae had decorated it for Mother’s Day: a large, wonky heart and schools of colorful fish dancing all around it, having the time of their lives. The heart read ‘I love you, Mummy! – From Bae’ in Bae’s best handwriting.

“I know.”

They both laughed.