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#he has watched her suffer and breakdown
dirtytransmasc · 1 year
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this video is so aegon coded, in my mind (I am the eldest child, I technically ruined my mom's life, but she tries so hard to love me, she DOES love me, but our relationship is so strained because of the way she's treated me due to her own pain. I think I'm a good enough reference on this)
like. him and alicent. with all their messiness. at the end of the day, that's HIS mommy, and no matter what, even when he feels like he hates her, she is beautiful and perfect and no one can say a bad thing about her because he loves her and she loves him and that makes everything ok at the end of the day.
sometimes he's mean to her, she's too rough, he feels like he hates her, she can barely look at him. but god forbid someone insult her in his presence, he will actually have a breakdown. that's his mommy and he loves her and forgives her and hopes she can forgive him and just wants her to be happy so they can all be happy.
like little kid aegon, he was always playing with her hair and her jewelry, telling her she was pretty. gently poking at her face, like toddlers do, when she was upset, trying to figure out what was wrong. he'd hug her clumsily and tell her it was alright. and he remembers that, he remembers wanting his mom to be happy and to know she was beautiful and that he was there (again, in the way a toddler does) and he stills wants that. he wants to be small and to make his mom smile and feel better. that's his job! he's supposed to protect her and make her happy!
I especially imagine this happens frequently cause of how her father and his father treat her, how the court treats her, how everyone treats her. they all so mean to her, even in ways that are quiet and seemingly mundane. he must hate it. hate the way they tear her apart with their words and their eyes. the way they subtly mock her. he must feel so angry but so helpless and conflicted.
and it all boils down to him becoming a sobbing, snotty, (in his case) drunken mess and I love that for him (I mean I feel really bad, this shit sucks, but you know what I mean)
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Hey there! I love the grumpy x sunshine trope for Logan. What if someone has been bothering reader or something happened, and because of it, she’s just not acting like herself and Logan starts picking up on it. He tries to let it go, but it sort of just gets worse and worse, and he becomes really worried for her. So he finally confronts her about, and she has a total breakdown about it- he knows that she’s been upset but not to this extent. So her comforts her and she finally opens up about what’s been going on. That’s kind of all I have, so I’ll leave the rest up to you. I love how you write for Logan, thank you for all the time and dedication you put in. 🫶🏻
When the Sunshine Fades
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The Xavier Institute had been bustling with the usual mix of chaos and camaraderie. Students running through the halls, the occasional burst of mutant powers misfiring, and, of course, the ever-present banter between teammates. But through it all, one constant had always been your presence—your sunny disposition that seemed to brighten even the darkest corners of the mansion.
You were the kind of person who could find the silver lining in any situation, always quick with a smile or a word of encouragement. It was one of the things Logan admired most about you. The way you could light up a room with your laughter, the way you saw the good in everyone, even in him—a man who had spent so much of his life battling his inner demons.
But lately, something had changed. The light in your eyes had dimmed, and Logan couldn’t help but notice.
At first, he’d told himself to let it go. Everyone had their off days. Maybe you were just tired, or maybe something minor was weighing on your mind. He wasn’t one to pry, especially since you’d always been so good at bouncing back. But as the days turned into a week, and your usual cheerfulness continued to fade, Logan found himself growing more and more concerned.
You’d stopped laughing as much, your smiles were forced, and there was a heaviness in your eyes that hadn’t been there before. You weren’t spending as much time with the team, opting instead to retreat to your room or find some quiet corner of the mansion where you could be alone. You still tried to keep up appearances, but it was clear that something was wrong.
Logan wasn’t the only one who noticed. A few of the other X-Men had asked him if you were okay, assuming that he would know since the two of you were so close. But Logan didn’t have an answer for them. He didn’t have an answer for himself, either, and that gnawed at him more than he’d like to admit.
Finally, after nearly two weeks of watching you withdraw more and more, Logan couldn’t take it anymore. He’d always been protective of you, but this went beyond that. He was worried—genuinely worried—and he couldn’t stand by and watch you suffer in silence any longer.
It was late in the evening when he found you in the mansion’s library, curled up on a chair with a book you hadn’t even bothered to open. Your eyes were distant, and you looked so small, so fragile, that it tugged at something deep inside him. Logan took a deep breath, steeling himself as he approached you.
“Hey,” he said, keeping his voice as gentle as he could manage.
You looked up, startled by his sudden presence, and tried to muster a smile. But it didn’t reach your eyes. “Hey, Logan.”
He pulled up a chair and sat down across from you, his eyes never leaving your face. “You wanna tell me what’s goin’ on?”
Your smile faltered, and you looked away, focusing on the pattern of the carpet beneath your feet. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t play dumb, darlin’,” Logan said, his tone a bit firmer now. “You’ve been actin’ different. Withdrawn. And I know somethin’ ain’t right. You’ve barely been yourself for weeks now.”
You swallowed hard, still avoiding his gaze. “I’m fine, Logan. Really. Just... been a little tired, I guess.”
Logan’s jaw tightened. He hated that you were trying to brush this off, trying to pretend like everything was okay when it so clearly wasn’t. “You ain’t fine. I know you too well for that. Talk to me.”
You bit your lip, your eyes glistening with unshed tears. Logan felt his heart clench at the sight. He hadn’t meant to push you this hard, but he couldn’t back off now, not when you were clearly on the verge of breaking.
“Please, sweetheart,” he said, his voice softening again. “Just talk to me.”
That did it. The dam you’d been trying so hard to hold back finally broke, and a choked sob escaped your lips. You covered your face with your hands as the tears began to fall, your shoulders shaking with the force of your emotions.
Logan was out of his chair in an instant, crossing the small space between you in two strides. He knelt down in front of you, his large hands gently pulling yours away from your face. The sight of your tear-streaked cheeks and trembling lips made his chest tighten with a mixture of anger and helplessness.
“Hey, hey,” he murmured, his thumbs brushing away your tears. “It’s okay. I’m here. Just let it out.”
You shook your head, trying to get a grip on yourself, but the floodgates had opened, and there was no stopping it now. “I-I’m sorry,” you managed to choke out between sobs. “I didn’t want to bother you with this... I didn’t want to be a burden.”
Logan’s brow furrowed. “A burden? Darlin’, you could never be a burden. Not to me.”
You took a shaky breath, your hands clinging to his arms as if he were the only thing keeping you grounded. “It’s just... everything’s been so overwhelming. There’s been someone... someone who’s been bothering me, saying things that just… they won’t leave me alone, and I’ve tried to ignore it, but it’s been getting to me. And I don’t know how to handle it anymore, Logan. I’m just so tired.”
Logan’s eyes darkened at your words, a low growl rumbling in his chest. “Who’s been botherin’ you?”
You shook your head again, fresh tears spilling over. “It doesn’t matter. I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want to drag you into it, but I can’t... I can’t keep pretending that I’m okay when I’m not. I just feel so lost, Logan.”
Logan’s heart ached at the sight of you, so vulnerable and broken. He pulled you into his arms, wrapping you in a protective embrace, his hand cradling the back of your head as he pressed your face against his chest. “I’m sorry, darlin’. I’m so damn sorry.”
You clung to him, the sobs wracking your body as you let everything out—the fear, the frustration, the exhaustion. And Logan held you through it all, his arms a fortress around you, his presence a steady anchor in the storm.
“I shoulda noticed sooner,” he murmured into your hair. “Shoulda done somethin’ before it got this bad. But I’m here now, and I ain’t goin’ anywhere. We’ll figure this out together.”
You nodded weakly, your tears beginning to slow as the weight of his words settled over you. You’d been carrying so much on your own, trying to keep up the appearance of being okay, but now, in Logan’s arms, you finally felt like you could let go.
“I’m scared, Logan,” you whispered, your voice raw with emotion.
Logan tightened his grip on you, his voice low and fierce. “I know, sweetheart. But you don’t have to be scared anymore. I’ll take care of it. Whoever’s been messin’ with you, they’re gonna regret it.”
You pulled back slightly, looking up at him with red-rimmed eyes. “You don’t have to do that.”
“Yes, I do,” Logan replied, his tone leaving no room for argument. “No one messes with you and gets away with it. Not while I’m around.”
You managed a small, tearful smile at that, the first real smile Logan had seen from you in what felt like forever. “Thank you.”
He cupped your face in his hands, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “You don’t ever have to thank me for lookin’ out for you. You’re too important to me, darlin’. I don’t want you to ever feel like you gotta deal with this crap on your own.”
You leaned into his touch, the warmth of his hands seeping into your skin, chasing away the lingering cold that had settled in your bones over the past weeks. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Logan.”
“Lucky for you, you don’t gotta find out,” he said, a hint of his usual gruff humor returning to his voice. “I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”
You let out a shaky laugh, the last of your tears drying on your cheeks. “I’m glad.”
Logan gave you a small, reassuring smile before pulling you back into his arms, holding you close. You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath you, the strong, sure beat of his heart a comforting rhythm that lulled you into a sense of peace you hadn’t felt in far too long.
For a while, the two of you just stayed like that, wrapped up in each other as the world outside faded away. And in that moment, you knew that no matter what came next, you wouldn’t have to face it alone. You had Logan by your side, and that was enough.
Finally, after what felt like both an eternity and no time at all, Logan pulled back slightly, looking down at you with a tenderness that made your heart ache in the best way.
“Come on,” he said softly, standing up and offering you his hand. “Let’s get you to bed. You need rest, and I’m not leavin’ you alone tonight.”
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loaksbitch · 2 years
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the long awaited part two is here! — imagine neteyam is now suffering from his own actions, everything turning to a hell for him, he’s even distant to his family… and you? you’ve decide this is enough and feel like you don’t belong here so you tell neteyam you’re leaving the clan soon and neteyam feels like salt is added to his open wound when he hears about that.
warning – neteyam cries 2.0 (i’m evil, i know) angst angst angst! mention of y/n’s adoptive mom, nete kinda slips from his own body and loses control, nete stills cause oc with pet names :(, vulgar language, did i mention its angst? yeah maybe i did but again we have ANGST!! 3.1k wc.
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“i can’t trust you” — neteyam sully (★,꩜)
part (one) – (three) — (four) of this series.
right after you left the love of your life, where you gave yourself to him, you couldn’t stop crying mess.
rage, confusion and pain blinding your eyes you didn’t care how the na’vi gave you glances every time you passed them without greetings given back.
you’re now in front of your mother’s shelter and swallow the lump on your throat not wanting her to see you like that. you push yourself inside and turn your face to the side so she won’t notice your puffy eyes.
“hi ma,” you greet her and her ears instantly perk up at your warm tone. “my sweet child, you cam– what’s wrong?” she knew you like no one did, you adoptive mother read you like a book.
when she finally asks what’s wrong you instantly breakdown in front of her, “mama.” you cry as the na’vi stumbles to you hurriedly, “what is it baby? what’s wrong?” she keeps wiping the tears that fall
this felt like the first time she found you lost in the woods, right after your biological mom abandoned you.
crying, scared and open.
“it hurts, make it stop ma, please make it stop.” your chest heaves up and down. your mother instantly knew something happened between you and neteyam, of course she’d know about the two of you.
“he…” you can’t even finish the sentence, “lied, he lied.” you struggled and your mother sighs
“oh my baby,” she pulls you for a hug and you hide your face into the crook of her neck crying again. no matter how she tighten her hold on your violently trembling body, she couldn’t stop the shattering feeling of your heart
you stood there hugged and vulnerable, seeking for comfort from your mother.
then there’s neteyam, who got to deal with the pain he created alone and secretly, he didn’t even get the chance to cry or comfort himself.
your words echoing in his drained mind, neteyam climbs back to his hammock. “i. hate. you.” those three words were enough to convince him you really do hate him. neteyam lied to you and you hated being lied, he knew everyone from your childhood lied to you
he knew it took you so much of sacrifice to give him a chance, he knew yet he destroyed you, he destroyed your heart. he can never forgive himself for that and he doesn’t want you to forgive him either.
neteyam chooses to suffer double than watch you break like that? he actually wishes you’d kill him right now but then again he deserves to live with this pain.
“i’m sorry.” he whispers as if you’re next to him and hearing him apologize. neteyam leans on the tree that’s helping the hammock stand in the middle of his room and slowly slides down to sit on the mat
“i’m so sorry, princess.” he knew you’ll never let him in again.
neteyam brings his legs to his chest and puts his arms on his knees before using them to lay his head. silent yet deep sobs left his lips as his chest tightened.
how was he supposed to live without you? without your skin against his? without your scent in him, without your smile to start his day… most importantly, without your love.
and now that neteyam have came to realize that, the perfect little solider has finally became defeated.
“i’m sorry.” he kept apologizing as he drifted to sleep, his beautiful face stained with tears.
and now five days passed, neteyam became distant with his family. no more breakfast eating with them, no more tuk and him moment, no more staying up all night with lo’ak and kiri to cause trouble.
no more in love with everything and colorful neteyam.
and his mother didn’t fail to notice him, notice how his behavior has changed. “something’s wrong with our son, ma jake, there’s something so wrong.” jake hums thinking neteyam is just getting more and more stronger and only practicing
“he’s just focusing on himself and training my love, you don’t have to worry.” jake says as he sharpens his weapons for the next war party
“no, you don’t understand” neytiri places her hand on jakes shoulder worriedly as their son kept himself inside his hammock, not wanting to interact with anyone of them. “he barely eats and drinks, barely plays with tuk she even started to ask for him.”
neytiri continued, “all he does is spend time on training, overworks himself and sneaks inside at midnight thinking i wouldn’t notice.”
jake frowns, this was new.
“neteyam started sneaking?” jake’s surprised tone makes netyiri sigh. he’s not taking things serious. “ma jake.” she warns when he tries to joke with a “neteyam’s finally being a spoiled brat huh?”
“okay okay, sorry but i’ll talk to him” jake cups his mates face and smiles, “maybe he’s having a hard time with being the future leader of the clan,” jake sighs “or maybe his new mate? he’s trying build some muscle, baby, don’t overthink it.”
neytiri only closes her eyes as they’re both sat in their hammock. “alright.” she voiced out.
right when jake was about to place a kiss on his wife’s lips, neteyam pulls the hanging fabric to the slide and walked straight to the front door. both his parents flinch at his sudden appearance.
“where you going, son?” both of them ask in unison making neteyam halt his steps.
“training and hunting.” he doesn’t turn to face them and neytiri insists. “you’ve been going out too much lately, nete’ don’t you think you need a break?”
“i’m fine mother.” with that being said, neteyam leaves the hammock while jake comforts his wife whose eyes tear up in worry.
neteyam didn’t fail to notice how his mother sounded worried and he hated that he caused that, but he doesn’t want them to figure out what’s wrong. he can’t risk your safety if they find out without you two communicating.
what if they hurt you? what will he do?
“look who’s finally out,” familiar voice sips to neteyam’s ears and neteyam closes his eyes, can they not just leave him alone? no, not really. lo’ak chuckles as he swings down the branch he was hanging on and jumps next to his brother
“where’re you going big bro?” lo’ak asks but gets ignored, “hey, you know i’m talking to you…”
“leave him skxawng, he’s in his emo arc.” kiri lets a sarcastic laugh out making the heartbroken man annoyed. “yeah? he’s seriously ignoring his one and only siblings” lo’ak keeps pushing his older brother
“can you guys leave? i want to be alone if you can’t see.” neteyam hisses under his breath but it falls to deaf ears. “damn bro, look at those growing muscles.” lo’ak turns to his sister and chuckles
“must be for his future mate, äyea.”
now lo’ak did a little bit of a mistake here, neteyam was now breathing through his nose, jaw clenched as he got his brother pinned to one of the trees. “i fucking told you to leave me alone, didn’t i? and don’t even dare to bring that name up here, again.”
lo’ak’s eyes are widened when his brother has him pinned to the tree, something dangerous flashes in his amber eyes and lo’ak lets a soft gasp out before being his hands up on air as a surrender.
“can you two stop? you guys are so immature.” kiri huffs out but neteyam only glares at his brother, “neteyam!” she calls out and once neteyam gains himself back, his eyes widens at the state. “shit, sorry.” his ears flatten, “i’m sorry lo’ak.”
both siblings take a glance at each other and lo’ak awkwardly chuckles. “it’s all good bro, you okay?” neteyam only nods before pushing himself out far away from everyone.
everywhere he goes, he kept hurting people and it’s destroying him.
once he was far enough from everyone he couldn’t help but allow himself to walk to the familiar place he finds comfort. the first place he saw you and got swept with love right away.
meanwhile neteyam was walking there you’ve actually managed to leave your hammock after days, well not managed but your mother was the one who threw you out to take some fresh air and communicate with eywa for a while
you couldn’t help but let you feet wander and take you to one of the places that are dear to you in pandora and your village. it was the shores that had glowing fish. the first time you met neteyam and you got your whole body woken up with butterflies.
you’re squat and twirling your hand in the edge of the ocean when you softly giggle as the glowing fish touches your hand with its soft fins. but that giggle didn’t live long when instant memories flood your mind.
“this one is honestly pretty.” you watch the glowing fish circle your feet that’s dipped in the ocean with your man next to you and you hear him hum agreeing but his eyes were only on you
“it really is.” he murmurs and when you notice it, you can’t help but realize your cheeks are heated up.
that was when you two shared your first kiss, of course it was a shy moment but on eywa you swore how good neteyam was, he was basically eating your face. “nete,” you’d sigh to his mouth when he leans and pressed his forehead against yours.
“it’s okay, it’s okay.” he would calm you by pulling you close to him as you’re both hanging your legs in the ocean. he would always place kisses on your skin every time you panic, thinking you’re doing something wrong
you missed that moment, you miss him but you can’t let those feelings win over and forget what he did.
you pull your hands out from the water, pushing those memories away and adjust your balance while you’re still squat and put your chin on your knees. “i miss him,” you speak and watch the fish wiggle around and smile, “you miss him too?” you ask it as if it would reply
you didn’t notice the subtle movement that’s made behind you in the woods as you talk to the animal you playfully adopted as your child with neteyam
neteyam in other hand freezes at his spot when he notice your familiar figure by the edge of the ocean. you’re silent before you let a soft giggle out and neteyam breathes out a laugh as he felt his eyes whelm
he really missed that sound of yours.
“i miss him,” your words catch his ears and his tail swings side to side like a dog. “you miss him too?” you ask as if you’re talking to someone and neteyam catches the fish you two jokingly adopted wiggling at your touch
his heart swells up with emotions.
you still haven’t noticed your used to be man watching you from the woods and sigh before deciding it’s time to leave, you need to distract yourself before you soon start to cry again
once you’re up on your feet, you turn around and your eyes catch the shadow of the tall figure with its tail moving. you let a loud scream out, startled and stumble on your feet only to trip and fall to the ocean.
“fuck!” neteyam curses when your eyes catch his and you’re instantly falling to the water.
“no, no, no!” neteyam was quick to run to you, you suddenly feel someone pull you and snoop you to their arms around your body before stomping out of the water to get you out of there
you’re confused and want to know who it is until a familiar scent helps you recognize who that was, you wanted to call his name out so badly but you just kept yourself silent until he got you to the sand.
once neteyam places you on your feet, you’re bombed with question about safety.
“did you get hurt? want me to carry you? baby, talk to me!” you don’t miss the pet name and don’t know know which to answer. “can you shut up?” you ask and he instantly obeys, “mhm.”
“i’m okay, thanks.” you’re curious to know what he was doing here.
“what’re you doing here?”
“what are you doing here?” he questiones back and your stomach drops. ‘because i miss you?’ you wanted to say but chose to stay silent and start to leave when neteyam suddenly grabs your hand. you’re stood there for a moment before you’re slowly turning to give him a deadly glare.
“what did i say about touching me?”
you’re so dominant it drives him insane, but neteyam heard you say you’re missing him and he has now some hope to relay that you still love him. “can we talk?” his voice is almost silent when he says that
“there’s nothing to talk about.” you dryly reply
neteyam nods and adjust the bow on him he brought for hunting, letting go of your wrist and you instantly miss the warmth but doesn’t show it. “i want to explain that–“
“you don’t need to explain yourself to me like you owe me something neteyam, it’s over for us.” you watch him battle himself from breaking down and swallows hard. you feel the atmosphere turn awkward.
“i heard you, y/n” you glance away from him feeling caught at stealing something. “you said you miss me.” his freckles are glowing and it makes you want to run your fingers on his skin where they exactly are.
“i do miss you” you’re honest and didn’t miss his little whimper when you say that. “but that doesn’t mean i’m not working on to get rid of those feelings.” your words hurt like a bullet being stuck in his chest and neteyam knew that feeling.
“you can’t say that,” he says, ears flattened and eyes hazed with hurt. “i can’t?” you sarcastically remark and scoff before trying to leave. “princes– y/n.” as much as him correctly himself from calling you his princess hurts you, again you manage to cover it up
neteyam feels his heart crack for the thousand times when you flinch away from his touch. “can you stop doing that?”you hiss and he knows you’re trying to protect yourself so bad, neteyam knows this is not you but the stupid shield you try to cover yourself with
“drop the act, y/n stop pushing me away.”
“you’ve a mate and i can’t do that to your future love so don’t touch me.” you’re using his actions against him to protect yourself. neteyam is annoyed now, he was to rip something apart or kill someone.
“look, i know i fucked up but that doesn’t mean…”
“yeah, it doesn’t mean anything, nothing matters.” you say and shut your eyes before taking a deep breath. his next words makes your brain rick in anger.
“can’t you just trust me?!” he dared to raise his voice at you. but in fact, neteyam was only raising his voice up to cover the quivering sound of his voice and stopping himself from crying in front of you
you take a step right to him and click your tongue.
“trust you?” you’re forcefully chuckling now. “i trusted you, neteyam, i trusted you so much but where did that lead me?” you’re poking his chest with your index and neteyam closes his eye before opening them and looking at you
you see something in him shift and realize he’s trying to make a progress.
“i can’t trust you…” you end up whispering the last part. “even if i want to, i just can’t.” you lean to him, dropping you forehead right to his chest and neteyam holds his breath. “i can’t, neteyam. i really can’t.”
as if he didn’t already hate himself more than this, he wishes he would just die at this point. you feel his hands grip your arms and pull you away from him a little far. one hand cups your cheek and he feels you lean to him for warmth.
there, right there was his y/n he knows.
“please,” he’s now begging. “let me make it right.”
you only lean to him to take his warmth one last time before opening your eyes and sighing. “nete’” you watch his breath hitch. “call me that again, please call me that again.”
“nete, i’m leaving.”
neteyam’s body freezes against you, “what?” is the only word he was able to let out. “what do you mean you’re leaving.” it wasn’t even a question, “me and my mom have decided and knows this place isn’t for us.”
you’ve been trying to let him know but you couldn’t until now and you take this opportunity to be close to him for the last time. “i don’t fit here, i’ve to leave.”
“what a..abo…about me?” he was now hyperventilating when he realize why you’ve accepted his touch on your body right now. “you’ve her, you’ve äyea.”
“don’t say that! please don’t say that– i’ve no one except you.” you’re trying to control the tears but neteyam was only making it hard. “neteyam.” your voice is quivering and neteyam shakes his head in denial
“no, don’t you care about me? no! NO!” he’s now holding your arms tight. “neteyam, please don’t make this hard.” you beg as tears start to roll down your pretty skin. “i have to leave!” you yell and neteyam instantly lets you go
he knew he deserved pain but not this one, neteyam didn’t want this he’ll never want this.
“when?” he’s now staring at you numbly. “huh?” you ask confused. “when’re you leaving?” you gulp and think before speaking.
“after your mating ritual, i’ll leave that night after yours and hers…” you stop when he shuts his eyes and blocks your words out. “i’ve to go, i can’t live like this! i don’t want to get hurt anymore.”
neteyam was nodding, stepping back from you. you feel guilty for just dropping it at him like that.
“so you’re saying if i haven’t caught you here i would never know and you would leave me?”
“i’m not leaving you, neteyam, you have äyea.” your words makes him snap.
“I DON’T WANT ÄYEA?!”
“don’t you dare yell at me for protecting myself.” you say and neteyam sniffs angrily. “you know what, i shouldn’t have told to you anything.” you suddenly push past him and walk fast.
neteyam clenches his jaw in anger and pain, no it won’t end like this. he won’t easily let you go like that, never.
enough is enough and nothing will easily end here.
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guys it’s 3.1k and i had to stop there yeah? i feel like i might make part 3 and 4 but fr tho should i make it happy ending or sad ending? or maybe alternative ending— i love each and everyone of you sm! mwah!
taglist 𖤘 @eywas-heir @evanpetersluver @ayathehater @redbloond @brooklynscherry-z @spideyluves @littlethingsinlife @arminsgfloll @thesheelfsworld @traveleraroundsworld @giftfromthemoon @emarold @ilovehotdilfsz @kristalposts @raventommy @scryarchives @senpaitanakiuwu @willoswildworld @voniikg @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @dearmikewheeler @mcqsx @eitaababe @hafutoru @hestiasalvtore @trhaenyra @23victoria @littlerizzler @ripneteyam @scarletrosesposts @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n @omgily (others will be tags if i make part 3)
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mononijikayu · 1 month
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thirty–nine — gojo satoru.
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GENRE: alternate universe - reincarnation
WARNING/S: romance, domesticity, fluff, family, break up, hurt/no comfort, angst, trauma, implied death, hurt/comfort, character death, depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, depiction of graphic content,depiction of emotional breakdown, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief;
WORD COUNT: 7.5k words
NOTE: in honor of the olympics ending tomorrow, here is the figure skating pair satoru x reader which just took a while to write. i was debating adding so much stuff here, but this is so long already and i didn't want to let you suffer my yapping. please enjoy this as much as pasilyo!!! i'll see you for yuuji's story AND the winning story idea from the polls~ i love you all <3
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IF YOU THINK ABOUT IT, SATORU WAS YOUR UNIVERSE. He always has been. Ever since you were a little girl, your life had revolved around Gojo Satoru. You remember it vividly, or at least you think you do. Your earliest memories were a mix of excitement and nerves, curiosity and clumsy attempts at coordination.
You recall stepping onto the ice rink for the first time. Your tiny skates felt like they had minds of their own. You looked up at your mom with wide, apprehensive eyes, wondering if you’d make a fool of yourself or somehow transform into a skating prodigy overnight.
“Just give it a try. You’ll be great!” Your mom waves, encouraging tune echoing from her lips. “Go darling!”
Your gaze swept around the rink, trying to take in every detail. There were adults gliding gracefully, children spinning in wild, chaotic circles, and the occasional crash that sounded like a minor icequake. And then, amidst this dizzying array of figures, you saw him—Gojo Satoru, as he was back then: a whirlwind of energy with an unruly mop of hair that defied gravity.
At that moment, your child-sized heart skipped a beat. You were captivated by his effortless moves, his goofy grin, and the way he seemed to have a magnetic pull on every eye in the rink. To you, he was like a live-action superhero—if superheroes had a penchant for playful teasing and spontaneous snowball fights.
“Who’s that? He’s amazing!” You asked your mom, eyes echoing in awe as you watched him skirt through like an angel visiting earth. 
“That’s Gojo Satoru. He’s quite the skater. And one day, you’ll be just as good.” Your mom grins knowingly. “I hear he’s been in some competitions already, you know?”
“I wanna be like him, mama! I wanna be as good as him!” You say patting her arm, as she smiled. “No, I wanna be even better!”
“You will be, I’m sure.” She says, as she helped you into the ice rink. “You can do it, I believe in you.”
You took to heart your mother’s words. You could  remember clutching the side of the rink for dear life as you tried to mimic Gojo’s moves. It was a mix of determination and hilarity. But you wanted to do better. You wanted to be as good as him, you wanted to be even better.
 “Careful, you’re making my moves look bad with all these awesome spins!” Gojo Satoru skates towards you, grin on his face. You almost fell, but you recovered pretty fast. You looked at him in awe. “Of course, you’ll be in awe of me, won’t you?”
“I’m just trying to keep up! Your spins are impossible!” You reply, eyes full of stars as you stare at him.
“Impossible? Nah, just a bit of practice and a lot of attitude!”
Years later, you’d look back on those early days and laugh at how starstruck you were. It wasn’t just the skating that captivated you; it was the way Gojo made everything feel like an adventure, every practice a chance for mischief and fun. And through all the spills and thrills, he became a central figure in your life—a constant, whether you were gliding gracefully or tumbling spectacularly.
“Remember when I tried to copy your triple axel and ended up face-planting into the ice?” you said, a snicker escaping your lips as you glanced at Satoru. The memory of your clumsy attempt at one of the most challenging moves still brought a touch of embarrassment, but now it was wrapped in fondness.
Satoru’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he recalled the scene. “How could I forget?” he said, his grin widening. “You made it look like a new ice trick!”
You laughed, shaking your head. “I think ‘new ice trick’ is just a polite way of saying I looked like a flailing fish.”
Satoru’s laughter was warm and infectious. “No way! You brought a whole new level of creativity to the rink. I’d never seen anyone make a face-plant look like part of the performance before. It was almost... avant-garde!”
You raised an eyebrow, playfully skeptical. “Avant-garde? Is that what we’re calling it now?”
“Absolutely,” Satoru replied with mock seriousness. “You were way ahead of your time. You just needed a bigger audience to appreciate the art of the spectacular face-plant!”
You chuckled, shaking your head at his playful exaggeration. “I suppose if we had marketed it as a ‘revolutionary new ice dance move,’ we might have started a trend.”
“See?” Satoru said, nudging you with his elbow. “Told you. The effort made you even better. Every great skater has a few unforgettable falls in their repertoire. Yours just happened to be the most memorable.”
You leaned into him, enjoying the easy tenderness between you. “Well, thanks for sticking around to see it. I might not have had the best technique, but at least I had you to laugh with.”
“And to catch you when you fell.” Satoru added with a wink. “Though, I have to admit, watching you try that move was like watching a live-action comedy show. I’m still waiting for the sequel!”
You nudged him back playfully, a smile tugging at your lips. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll get your fill of entertainment with me around. Just give me a few more practice sessions to perfect my ‘avant-garde’ style.”
Satoru’s laughter filled the rink as he pulled you into a warm hug. “Deal. And who knows? Maybe your next masterpiece will be the talk of the skating world.”
You might have had a few less-than-graceful moments throughout the years, but you wouldn’t trade those for anything. Because in every one of those moments, amidst the laughter and the tears, there was Gojo Satoru, making sure that no matter how many times you fell, he’d always be there to catch you—or at least to laugh with you when you got back up. 
From the age of ten, when you first got paired up as figure skating partners, everything changed. It was one of those pivotal moments in life that seemed to alter the course of your entire world. The rink in your small town in Tokyo was modest, its walls lined with the echoes of countless skaters who had come before you. Yet, on that day, it felt like the grandest stage imaginable.
The more you saw him, the more you were in awe of him. He was beautiful in a way that transcended mere physical appearance—his presence was magnetic. He had a head of unruly, gravity-defying hair that seemed to perfectly match the uncontainable energy radiating from him. His eyes, bright and full of mischief, held a spark that made you feel as though you were witnessing something truly extraordinary.
You liked to watch his practice session. You watched every movement with awestruck eyes. He effortlessly gliding across the ice with a grace that seemed to defy the laws of physics. To your young eyes, it was like watching a dancer in a dream—a perfect blend of elegance and daring. And even though he was just a boy, there was something undeniably captivating about the way he moved.
You could see the other kids watching him too, their faces reflecting a mix of admiration and envy. He had that rare quality of being able to draw attention without even trying, a natural charisma that made him the center of every conversation. You, on the other hand, felt a mix of excitement and trepidation. You were about to join him on this stage, and while the idea was thrilling, it was also intimidating.
Sure, he could be a brat—too blunt and annoyingly confident at times. His comments were often laced with a teasing edge, and his self-assuredness sometimes bordered on arrogance. But beneath that surface was an undeniable charm, a genuine enthusiasm for skating that was contagious. Despite his occasional brashness, there was something incredibly endearing about the way he approached life with such unabashed exuberance.
It wasn’t long before you found yourself drawn to him, despite the occasional clash of personalities. There was an undeniable pull, a feeling that your paths were meant to intertwine. The more you watched him, the more you realized that beneath his bravado, there was a heart full of passion and dreams—a heart that mirrored your own in many ways.
As you began your partnership, the initial awkwardness and nerves slowly gave way to a growing bond. The rink became a space where you could both express yourselves, where you learned to complement each other’s movements and anticipate each other’s needs. The early days were filled with stumbling attempts at coordination, but through every misstep and every laugh, a connection began to form..
It wasn’t long before you realized that you were in love with him. It was as if the universe had aligned perfectly, making it so easy to fall for him. After all, who else could understand you the way Satoru did? You two had grown up together, skating side by side, pushing each other to be better, stronger, faster. You knew every nuance of his personality, every quirk, and he knew yours just as intimately. You were made for each other.
So when you were both twenty, standing on that podium with gold medals around your necks after the Olympics, the decision to marry him felt as natural as breathing. You didn’t need grand gestures or long speeches. Just a simple ceremony, your hands clasped tightly together, your hearts beating in sync as you exchanged vows. The world saw two champions in love, but for you, it was simply a continuation of a life already lived side by side. 
Now, every glide across the ice, every perfectly executed lift, felt like a dance of love—the bond you had built over the years. You knew that no matter what challenges came your way, as long as you had Satoru by your side, you would always come out on top, both in life and on the ice.
But after competing together your whole lives, earning fame and glory in the Olympics year after year, the house of cards you thought could withstand any storm, any chaos, any catastrophe, suddenly crumbled. You were thirty when it happened, at the peak of your career. It wasn’t during a pairs event, but your individual skating routine—an arena where you stood alone, without Satoru by your side.
The routine had started flawlessly, every spin and jump executed with the precision and grace that had become your signature. But then, in the blink of an eye, something went wrong. A misstep, a momentary lapse, and you felt a sharp, searing pain shoot through your leg as you landed awkwardly.
You knew instantly that something was terribly wrong, but you pushed through it. The roaring crowd, the blinding lights, and the weight of your own expectations urged you on. So you kept going, forcing your body to move despite the pain, finishing your routine with the same poise you had always shown.
When the music stopped, you stood there, chest heaving, eyes scanning the audience as they erupted in applause. You had done it—you had won a medal. But the victory was hollow, the weight of the medal around your neck a constant reminder of what it had cost you. 
Satoru was there in an instant, his eyes wide with worry as he rushed to your side. But even as he held you, whispered reassurances in your ear, you could feel the cracks forming. The injury wasn’t just physical; it was the beginning of something deeper, something neither of you had prepared for. 
The house of cards you had built together, the one you thought could weather any storm, was suddenly teetering on the edge of collapse. And as you looked into Satoru’s eyes, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was the moment it would all come crashing down.
The injury was complicated, a tangled mess of torn ligaments and fractured bones that proved difficult to operate on. The doctors weren’t optimistic, and that crushed you in ways you hadn’t anticipated. The physical pain was one thing, but the heartbreak that followed was unbearable. You found yourself spiraling into a void of despair, the life you had known slipping away with each passing day.
You began to isolate yourself, retreating into the shadows of your own mind. The rink, once your sanctuary, became a place of torment, a constant reminder of what you had lost. Satoru tried to be there for you, but even his presence felt like a weight too heavy to bear. The once unbreakable bond between you began to fray, each day pulling you further apart.
When you finally announced your retirement, it felt like the end of an era. But it wasn’t just skating you were leaving behind; you wanted to erase yourself from Satoru’s narrative too. You couldn’t bear the thought of holding him back, of being the reason his career might falter. Your failures had already cost you everything—there was no way you would let them drag him down too.
Satoru, with his usual stubbornness, refused to let go. He never wanted a divorce, didn’t even want to talk about separation. But you needed space, a distance that would allow you to breathe without feeling like you were suffocating under the weight of your shared history. Satoru understood this—he understood it all too well. So he didn’t fight you, didn’t push back. He simply waited, hoping that time and space would heal the wounds that had driven a wedge between you.
And so, the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months. Satoru waited, holding onto the hope that one day you would find your way back to him, that the love you shared would be strong enough to bridge the distance that had grown between you. He waited, because he knew that no matter how far you tried to run, you were still a part of him, just as he was a part of you.
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HE WISHED HE COULD TAKE BACK THAT DAY. But he knew that he couldn’t change the reality of what had happened. No matter how many times he hoped, prayed, or wished for a different outcome, the truth remained that life had robbed you of your dreams. In the world of figure skating, the years were fleeting, and only a select few were fortunate enough to extend their careers into their thirties.
Satoru was one of those few, still gracing the ice with his presence at thirty-eight, but you had always been right there beside him. You were making plans yourself, contemplating when to step away, but it was supposed to be on your own terms, with a final performance that would leave the world breathless.
That’s what broke you the most, he thinks—the fact that fate had stolen that choice from you. You were supposed to have one last dance, one last chance to glide across the ice and feel the love of the crowd, to pour your heart into the sport that had shaped your life.
But instead, your departure was abrupt, forced by circumstances beyond your control. The ice, which had been your sanctuary, your stage, and your life, was taken from you without warning. And now, as you both reached thirty-eight, the painful reality was that you and the ice would part forever in a way neither of you had ever wanted.
For Satoru, it was excruciating to find his footing without you. Every day at the rink felt like a different world, one that was both familiar and alien. He tried to push forward, to focus on his training and his new role as a mentor, but it was impossible to ignore the gaping hole left by your absence.
When he looked around during practice sessions, at Coach Yaga’s stern face, the focused expressions of the staff, and the young skaters striving to make their mark, he felt the sting of loss all over again. The rink was the same, yet everything had changed.
There were no shared glances with you, no reassuring smiles or knowing nods as you both prepared to take the ice together. The absence of your voice, your laughter, your presence—it was a constant ache that refused to dull. Every corner of the rink held memories of you, of the life you had built together on the ice. Now, without you, it felt like skating in a shadow, always missing the light that had once guided him.
Satoru knew that this was his reality now, and no amount of wishing could bring back what had been lost. But even as he trained, coached, and tried to find meaning in this new chapter of his life, the thought of you lingered, a bittersweet reminder of what could have been.
It hurt more than he could ever express, but he kept going, because that’s what you would have wanted him to do. Even if he didn’t hear it, he knows this is what you would have wanted. And so, with each step he took, he carried the weight of your absence.
And he still got it. Gojo Satoru still managed to captivate the hearts of many in the skating world, even as the years wore on. The boy who once dazzled audiences with his youthful brilliance was now a seasoned veteran, revered and respected.
He still skated, still graced the ice with the effortless grace that had made him a legend, but he knew his time as a competitor was drawing to a close. He had begun to transition into coaching, guiding the next generation of talent. Rising star Megumi Fushiguro had caught his eye, a skater with raw potential and a fire that reminded Satoru of his younger self.
But even with the new responsibilities, the thrill of mentoring, it was hard. Every single day, the weight of your absence pressed down on him. You had been gone for a while now, distancing yourself in a way that left him feeling helpless and lost. The silence between you was deafening, a void he couldn’t seem to fill no matter how hard he tried.
He worried about you constantly, wondering how you were coping, whether you were healing—both physically and emotionally. The thought of you alone, battling your demons without him, tore at his heart. So, he made a note in his head to message you, to reach out once more. It wasn’t much, just a few words, a simple check-in, but it was all he could do. He never got a reply, but he knew you saw the messages. Somehow, he convinced himself that it was enough, that knowing you were still there, somewhere, was better than nothing at all.
At least he knew you were well. That was what mattered most, even if it meant enduring the silence that stretched on between you. And so, he continued to wait, just as he had before, holding onto the hope that one day, you might find your way back to him. Maybe someday you’ll find your way back into his arms.
But he never expected it to be right here, right now. Gojo Satoru never expected that he would find you here today. It was just another day at the rink, one of many he’d spent alone, trying to fill the emptiness that lingered after you left. As he packed up his gear, mentally preparing to head home, something caught his eye near the exit. He blinked, unsure if he was seeing things, but there you were—standing by the door, just like you used to, waiting for him with that familiar smile on your face.
For a moment, he froze, unsure if this was a dream or some trick of his mind. It had been months since you last talked, months since he had seen that smile, and the shock of seeing you here, in the place where it all began, left him momentarily speechless. But the way you looked at him, the way you waved as if no time had passed at all—it stirred something deep within him, something he had almost forgotten.
Slowly, he walked over to you, his heart pounding in his chest. The closer he got, the more real you became, and when he finally reached you, he found himself searching your face for answers. Were you really here? Was this really happening?
“Hey,” you greeted him softly, your voice carrying the warmth and familiarity he had missed so much.
“Hey.” he replied, still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that you were standing right in front of him. “I didn’t expect to see you here. What brings you to town?”
You smiled even wider, the kind of smile that always made him feel like everything was going to be okay. “I wanted to see you.” you said simply. “It’s been too long.”
He felt a lump form in his throat, a mixture of relief and uncertainty. “How long are you staying?”
“For a while.” you answered, your eyes meeting him with a sincerity that made his heart ache. 
The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Satoru didn’t know what this meant, or what it would lead to, but at that moment, none of it mattered. You were here, in front of him, smiling that same smile that had captured his heart so many years ago. And for the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to hope that maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of something new.
As the days passed, Satoru and you slowly began to rebuild something that resembled the life you once shared, the marriage that had been so deeply intertwined with your skating careers.
It wasn’t exactly the same, but it was something beautiful in its own right, something tender and fragile, blossoming with each shared moment. Satoru cherished it, adored it more than words could express. He had missed you more than he had ever let on, and now that you were back in his life, he found himself clinging to every second, treasuring every smile, every touch.
You fell into a rhythm together, one that was both familiar and new. It felt like rediscovering each other all over again, like finding pieces of a puzzle that had been scattered but never lost. Satoru reveled in the simple things—the quiet conversations, the laughter, the warmth of your presence beside him. He had spent so much time wondering if he would ever feel whole again, and now, with you here, it was as if the missing pieces were finally falling into place.
Through it all, one thought became clear to him: after living multiple lifetimes with you, each time he was reborn, he always wanted you. In every lifetime, in every possible world, it was you he would choose, again and again. No matter the circumstances, no matter the struggles or the suffering, he wanted nothing more in life than to be together with you. 
If he had to suffer, if he had to endure pain or hardship, he would gladly accept it—just to have you by his side. Because with you, every trial was worth it, every challenge bearable. You were his beginning and his end, the one constant in a world that was always changing.
And as he looked at you now, smiling at him as you always did, he knew that this was all he needed, all he would ever need. Satoru had found his way back to you, and he would hold onto you with everything he had, because there was nothing more precious to him than the life you were building together once more.
That night, you and Satoru were out to dinner together. He had gone all out, renting the entire balcony of your favorite restaurant in the city. The view was breathtaking, the city lights twinkling beneath a clear night sky. You sat together, enjoying a delicious meal, reminiscing and laughing like you used to. It felt almost like old times, a moment of peace and happiness that you both had desperately needed.
As the evening went on, you found yourself watching him, taking in the way his eyes sparkled when he laughed, the way his smile lit up the world around him. You loved him so much, and that love had only grown stronger with time. But as you looked at him, you knew it was time to tell him what you had been holding back.
"Satoru." you said softly, your voice tinged with both hesitation and resolve. "I have something to say."
He looked at you, a playful smile still on his lips as he asked, "What is it?"
You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the words still came out shakily. "The doctor, I visited him.”
He raised a brow. “Is it about your knee? What did he say? Do you need another operation? If so, I’ll make time around it on my schedule—”
“Satoru.” You say, cutting him off. You smiled at him, shaking your head. 
“My love, what is it?” 
You looked downward, as though you were deep into thought for a moment. You raised your head once again and took a deep breath. He noticed the air shift, as he stared into your eyes. Your eyes narrowed as you looked at him with that haunting smile. He thinks he’ll never forget it. It was seared into him, how you could smile in this moment when those truths were about to come from your lips. The truth he hated most.
“I have pancreatic cancer, my doctor said." you began, watching as his expression shifted from curiosity to shock. "Final stage. The survival rate… it’s 0.08 percent."
The smile vanished from his face instantly, replaced by a look of utter devastation. His eyes welled up with tears, and for a moment, he just stared at you, as if trying to process the enormity of what you had just said. Then, without warning, he reached out and pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as if he could shield you from the cruel reality you had just revealed.
“What?”
“It…” You take a moment, trying not to break in front of him. “It was a shock for me too. But...…”
“When?” He huffs, as though he was about to run out of air. “When did you find out?”
You couldn’t speak for a moment, almost ashamed. “Two days ago.”
"Why?" he choked out, his voice breaking as the tears began to fall. "Why does it have to be you?"
Hearing his pain, seeing the tears streaming down his face, was enough to break your heart all over again. You felt your own tears begin to well up, and soon they were spilling over, streaming down your cheeks as you clung to him. But you tried to stay strong, tried to find some semblance of composure. You even managed a small, shaky laugh through the tears, though it sounded more like a sob.
"Satoru," you whispered, your voice trembling but filled with a gentle resolve, "All I want to do is have fun with you. With all the time left, hm? I want to skate like we used to, laugh like we did tonight… I want to spend whatever time I have left making the best memories with you."
He held you even tighter, his tears soaking into your shoulder as he cried quietly, his body shaking with the force of his emotions. "I can’t lose you, not again." he whispered, his voice raw with grief. "I don’t know how to live without you."
"You won’t lose me, you know what, hm?" you said, your voice cracking as you tried to comfort him, even as your own tears continued to fall. "I’ll always be with you, no matter what happens. But for now, let’s make the most of the time we have, okay? Let’s skate together, laugh together… let’s live."
Satoru nodded, though he couldn’t find the words to respond. He just held you, both of you crying together, sharing the pain and the love that bound you so deeply. He doesn't say anything mroe and neither do you. It was better that way.
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IT WAS A NO BRAINER FOR HIM. The day after your dinner, Gojo Satoru made an announcement that sent shockwaves through the figure skating world. Standing before a room full of reporters and cameras, he took a deep breath, steadying himself as he prepared to say the words he never thought he’d utter so soon.
“Effective immediately, I’m retiring from competitive figure skating.” he said, his voice calm but firm. The room erupted in gasps and murmurs, but Satoru kept his gaze steady, focused on the truth he had to share. “I won’t be taking on any new commitments as a coach either, not for the time being.”
He could see the confusion, the surprise in the faces around him, but he didn’t waver. “My partner, my… my spouse,” he continued, his voice faltering slightly as he forced himself to push through, “has been diagnosed with a serious illness. My priority is to be with them, to support them through this time.”
The room fell silent, the weight of his words settling over everyone. Satoru’s heart pounded in his chest, but he knew this was the right decision. Nothing mattered more to him than being by your side, especially now. The ice could wait. The world could wait. You needed him, and that was all that mattered.
It was hard—harder than he had imagined. The pain you were in was unbearable to watch, a constant reminder of the battle you were fighting. He hated seeing you suffer, hated the way the illness stole pieces of you day by day. You tried to stay strong, tried to keep smiling for him, but he could see the pain etched in every line of your face, hear it in the way your breath hitched when you thought he wasn’t listening.
Sometimes, when you were resting, Satoru would retreat to a quiet corner of the house, somewhere you wouldn’t find him, and he would cry. He would cry for you, for the life you were supposed to have together, for the unfairness of it all. He cried because he felt helpless, unable to take away your pain, unable to do anything but watch as the illness took its toll.
And yet, no matter how hard he tried to hide it, he knew you noticed. You would look at him with those eyes, filled with concern for him even as you battled your own pain. He wished you wouldn’t—wished you wouldn’t see the cracks in his armor, wouldn’t see the way this was breaking him. He wanted to be strong for you, wanted to be your rock, but the truth was, he was terrified. 
He wished you didn’t have to see his tears, didn’t have to carry the burden of his sorrow on top of everything else you were going through. But no matter how much he tried to hide it, you always noticed, and that only made him ache more. He didn’t want to add to your pain, didn’t want you to worry about him when you had so much to face already.
But through it all, Satoru stayed by your side, refusing to leave you for even a moment. He held your hand through the pain, stayed up with you through the long nights, and whispered words of comfort even when he was breaking inside. Because in the end, none of it mattered. None of the tears, none of the fear—as long as he could be with you, as long as he could love you through every moment you had left.
Despite the pain that had become a constant companion, despite the weakness that sapped your strength with each passing day, you found yourself yearning for one final chance to skate. The ice rink had always been your sanctuary, a place where you felt most alive, most connected to Satoru. And now, as the end approached, you wanted nothing more than to experience that joy one last time.
You approached Satoru with trembling resolve. He was sitting beside you, holding your hand gently, his eyes reflecting the deep sadness and concern that had become all too familiar. You took a deep breath, mustering the energy to make your request.
"Satoru, please." you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want to go to the rink. I want to skate with you… just one last time."
Satoru’s face immediately fell, a mixture of shock and concern washing over him. "No," he said firmly, his voice strained with the effort to stay calm. "You're too weak. You can't do this. It’s too dangerous."
But you shook your head, the tears welling up in your eyes. "Please, Satoru." you pleaded, your voice breaking as the emotion overwhelmed you. "I know I'm sick. I know it’s risky. But I just want to feel the ice again, to be with you on that rink one last time. It’s all I’m asking."
His resolve began to falter, his heart aching at the sight of your tears, at the desperation in your voice. "I don’t want to see you in pain, my love." he said, his own voice trembling. "What if something happens? I can't bear to see you hurt."
You couldn’t hold back your sobs any longer. You clung to him, your body shaking with the force of your tears. "Please." you begged through your sobs, "Just...please just this once. I need this. I need it for me, for us."
Satoru’s tears began to fall as well, mingling with yours. He pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace. He could feel the weight of your illness pressing down on him, the crushing reality of it all. He wanted to protect you, to keep you safe, but he also saw how much this meant to you.
After a few moments of holding you, he pulled back slightly, his eyes red and wet. "Okay....I...." he said, his voice choked with emotion. "We’ll go to the rink. But promise me we’ll be careful. Promise me you’ll tell me if it’s too much."
You nodded through your tears, a small, grateful smile forming on your lips despite the sadness. "I promise," you whispered, feeling a glimmer of hope.
Satoru helped you get ready, carefully supporting you as you made your way to the rink. Every step was a struggle, every movement a reminder of how much you had endured. But when you finally stepped onto the ice, with Satoru by your side, you felt a fleeting sense of peace.
As you skated together, every movement was a bittersweet reminder of the life you had shared, of the joy you had found in each other. Your Satoru held you close, guiding you gently across the ice, making sure you were safe while also trying to hold back his own tears.
It was a moment of fragile beauty, a final dance on the ice that captured the essence of your love and the depth of your connection. For a little while, the pain and the sadness seemed to fade, replaced by the pure joy of being together once more, on the ice where it all began. And in that moment, despite everything, you felt a profound sense of peace, knowing that you had shared one last perfect memory with the person you loved most.
As you skated together, the ice beneath your feet felt both comforting and foreign, a reminder of the many times you had danced together in the past. Satoru guided you gently, his grip firm but tender, as you moved across the rink.
“Just a little slower, hm?” he said softly, his voice a mix of concern and love. “I don’t want you to push yourself too hard.”
You nodded, trying to match his pace. “I’m okay. you whispered, though your breath was ragged. “I just… I needed this. I needed to feel… like we’re still us.”
Satoru glanced at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and affection. “I wish I could do more for you.” he said, his voice trembling. “I wish we had more time.”
You looked up at him, tears streaming down your face despite the smile on your lips. “We have now.” you said softly. “We have this moment. That’s all I need.”
He pulled you into a gentle embrace, holding you close as you skated. “I love you.” he said, his voice choked with emotion. “I love you so much."
“I love you too.” you replied, your voice barely audible as the tears continued to flow.
Satoru’s grip tightened around you, and he rested his forehead against yours. “I’m here, okay?” he whispered. “I’m always here, no matter what happens. I’ll never leave you.”
You closed your eyes, letting the moment sink in. “Thank you for doing this, for me.” you said softly. “For making this… one last memory.”
Satoru nodded, his own tears falling freely now. “I’ll always treasure this.” he said, his voice breaking. “Even if it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done, I’m grateful for every moment we’ve shared. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
You stayed like that for a while, just holding each other, the world outside the rink fading away as you focused on the connection you shared. Eventually, you began to slow down, feeling the weight of exhaustion and pain.
“Let’s rest for a bit.” Satoru suggested gently. “We don’t have to do everything at once. We can take it slow.”
You nodded, letting him guide you to the edge of the rink where you both sat down, still holding each other. The cold of the ice beneath you felt soothing, a contrast to the warmth of Satoru’s embrace.
“Do you remember?” you said quietly, trying to shift the focus to happier memories, “Our first time, when we skated together?”
Satoru chuckled softly, brushing a stray tear from your cheek. “How could I forget? You were so determined, even though you could barely stay upright. I think you fell more than you skated.”
You laughed, a small, bittersweet sound. “And you kept teasing me about it, but you were always there to catch me.”
“Always,” he agreed, squeezing your hand. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’ll always be here to catch you.”
Satoru took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “Do you remember when we first met at the rink?” he began, his voice growing softer but more steady as he spoke. “You were so nervous, and I was this cocky kid who thought he knew it all. You kept falling, but you were determined to keep going. I think that’s when I first realized how strong you were.”
You smiled faintly, imagining the scene he described. “I remember.” you whispered. “You were so annoying, but you helped me up every time I fell.”
“And you kept getting up, you would grip my hand hard too.” Satoru continued, his voice steadying as he spoke of the past. “You never gave up, no matter how many times you fell. It was inspiring. It was...It was everything."
As he spoke, your breathing became more labored, each inhale taking more effort than the last. Satoru’s voice wavered, but he continued, determined to give you this final gift of memories. You could feel it. How easily it would break into shattering tears. To see one’s heart break into a million pieces. To be the one slowly being left behind.
“I remember our first competition together, in pairs.” he said, his voice trembling with both nostalgia and emotion. “We were so nervous, but we pulled it off. I remember looking at you after our performance, seeing the pride in your eyes. That look in your eyes…. it was like the stars were before us. And it was everything to me.”
Tears streamed down your face as you listened, each word from Satoru bringing back memories of the life you had shared. “Thank you, baby.” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Thank you for everything.”
Satoru kissed your forehead gently, his own tears falling freely. “I love you. I love you. I love you.” he said softly. “I always will. No matter where you go, you’ll always be with me. I’ll carry you with me, in everything I do.”
“In another life, will you choose me again?” you whimpered softly, your voice trembling as you looked up at him. He lowered his head, tears slipping down his face, and after a moment, he raised his gaze to meet yours.
“I always will,” he replied, his voice choked with emotion. He sniffed away his tears, his grip on your hand tightening as if trying to anchor himself in the moment. “I’ll always choose you, no matter what. Even if you break my heart all the time, I’ll be yours.”
Tears spilled down your cheeks as well, touched deeply by his words. “Then I’ll choose you too, baby. Even if I don’t remember, help me. Help me remember. So I can love you like this again.”
“I will,” he promised, his voice resolute despite the tears streaming down his face. “I always will. I promise.”
You leaned against him, feeling a profound sense of peace despite the pain. “Thank you, Satoru. For everything. For making these last moments together so special.”
He kissed the top of your head, holding you close. “Thank you for letting me be a part of it. For giving me this final memory with you.”
And in those last precious moments, surrounded by the warmth of Satoru’s love and the memories of a life well-lived, you found a sense of tranquility. You lean your head on his shoulders, taking one deep breath and smiling.
The pain and struggle began to fade, replaced by the profound comfort of knowing that you were loved, that you had shared something beautiful, and that even in the face of the inevitable, you were not alone. The sun had begun to rise again, on your faces. And that it’s already set in stone — Gojo Satoru will find you again. He will love you again. Over and over. No matter what.
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There's something in the differing emphasis that Brad and Hunter and Charles place on the phrase "good guy" that really affected me on my first watch and hit even harder on my second. I'm going to try and put it into words.
When Brad and Hunter say it, they say "we're good guys", as in, good at everything a guy "should" be good at - good at sports, popular with the ladies, on their way to a good university. But they turn out to be total shitheads. They don't care about being "good", they just care about their reputation, how they're perceived. It's status and power - they're good guys and they feel entitled to do whatever they want.
But when Charles, feeling betrayed by this reveal of their character, says he wanted them to be good guys, the emphasis is completely different. Charles wants to be a "good guy". He doesn't want to be a "bad guy".
The emphasis is on good, because that's really the crux of Charles' greatest fears, isn't it?
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When Charles wants to be a good guy, he doesn't mean it the way Brad and Hunter do; that veneer of goodness that comes with popularity. He means that nothing he did was ever good enough for his dad. Doing the good thing and helping that kid his "friends" were beating up literally got him killed. Trying to stop Devlin only got him trapped in the loop, stuck until his friends freed him, only able to watch helplessly as a mother and her innocent children get slashed to death before his eyes.
And it's this helplessness that is the thing that truly sets him off at the end of episode 4.
It always struck me just how much of his breakdown there, for as much as he finally gives a voice to his own hurt at the injustice of his situation, was still about other people. Because he was secure-ish, at one point, when he was Edwin's partner and protector. He thought he did a good job at it anyways, but guess not, because something obviously happened with Edwin and he's not talking to him about it. And he likes to think he did good with solving cases, but Crystal is still hurting and haunted by a demon and nearly threw herself off a cliff earlier that day because she wants her parents so badly, and he's no closer to helping her solve that. And all of it, every single part of it, is a reflection of his own unresolved trauma; that he never "made it better" and he can't, so now he tries to be good enough for other people, but that isn't working anymore either, and now someone is threatening to take Edwin away, and even this final shocking act of anger and violence is still in service of protecting; of saving someone from the suffering he was never able to escape except by fucking dying.
His anger, really, stems from the injustice of it all, and the abuse of power by guys who can get away with it because they're guys, when they should've, could've, been good to others instead. It's a large part of why he projected so strongly onto Brad and Hunter - they did everything right, they were good guys who got screwed over, because even if everyone seems to love you, there's always that one person you can never please, right? Who will hurt you, no matter how good you are. When it's revealed that Brad and Hunter are far more like his bullies, like Devlin, like his dad, than he'd thought - controlling, intolerant, cruel to those who "step out of line" - Charles feels betrayed and horrified because he related to them... so what does that say about him?
But here's one major difference that Charles does not seem to recognize well. Charles has never had the power in these situations. He was the victim, and his being the victim is through no fault of his own, but the fault of those who decided to be cruel. It is certainly not contingent on how good he is. Being good in the eyes of people who want to hurt you will not stop them from hurting you.
When he lashes out at the Night Nurse, it's out of helplessness and rage. Once again, he's pitted against someone who holds more power than he does and is threatening harm, and he's just been bitterly, brutally reminded that a smile and a helping hand and a firm word never, ever worked to make it stop. There's only one other way he can think of to shift the balance of power, and he's finally livid enough to actually do it. This violence is a desperate attempt to finally overcome yet another force much greater than him, a transdimensional entity that has unjustly arrived to take his best friend to Hell. And Charles wins, he did it, he stopped her, at least for the moment. But at what cost, when he looks at his friends and can't tell whether they look more scared for him or of him? And can he blame them, when he's clearly scared of his own anger and how overwhelming it is now that it's been let out?
Because he tries so hard to be good and it's never good enough to stop the suffering. Because that anger rose to the surface so easily and maybe that means he's not good at all.
But of course, Charles once again misses something important here - there is a distinction in why that anger exists. His dad, Devlin, and Brad and Hunter get angry because their power over others makes them feel they have a right to punish when things don't go their way. Charles gets angry because he feels more helpless than he'd care to admit, and seeing cruelty inflicted onto others by those with power makes him want to cut them down to size.
And herein lies the second major difference. Charles... is a kind person, at heart. He's genuine. He really does likes helping out, he likes making people happy, he doesn't turn people away who need help, he's friendly and protective. The scene where Edwin pulls him out of his fear that he's somehow bad even though he really doesn't want to be, is outright one of my favourite scenes for what it brings to both of their characters. Edwin knows exactly what to say. While it's always good to check your behaviour, to apologize and take accountability - because no one can be good all the time, and even the most well-intentioned of us will mess up sometimes - Edwin is right.
"Bad guys do not worry about being bad guys."
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WIBTA if I told my sister I think she should put down her dog?
(cw: animal death, animal erection mention (I shit you not), suicide mention)
So, I (21nb) have a sister (Amelia, 23f). She’s been living with a friend for the past two years, but she still stops by the house every now and then. Most of the time, it’s just to drop off her dog (Max, toy poodle, 16?m) so that we (Dad and Mom, 63m and 55f, and Jamie, 25f) can dogsit him while she’s at work. We’ve already got three dogs of our own, and because both of my parents work full-time (and Jamie works from home part-time), I’m usually the one who has to take care of him during the day (along with our other dogs).
Unfortunately, because Max is an older dog, he has a lot of health issues. He’s mostly blind, fully deaf, and he has intense separation anxiety. He also bites when he’s startled, which is often because he’s deaf and blind. So most times he’s over he’ll pee in the house because he doesn’t know he’s inside, we’ll have to carefully pick him up and put him in the backyard so he can do his business, then stand outside with him so we can keep him from getting lost in a bush or bumping into a tree or freezing to death because he can’t find his way to the door, then we have to carefully pick him up again to bring him back inside. After that, he’ll often walk around the house while screaming because he can’t see or hear anyone and he thinks we’ve abandoned him. It’s hell to deal with, and I’ve had breakdowns on several different occasions while trying to deal with my other responsibilities and also keep him from screaming 24/7. When he’s not aimlessly wandering and screaming, he’s asleep in his dog bed for most of the day. It’s depressing to watch him so sad and unmotivated. He doesn’t know how to be a dog without her.
Recently, Amelia’s been dropping him off more often and for longer stretches. She works retail, so I can understand that her schedule is fucked most of the time. But she’s also been dropping Max off because he’s so overwhelming for her to deal with. He has the same issues when he’s at home with her, but he’s also like 10 times more energetic when she’s around (and he screams when she’s around but not holding him or giving him attention), which is hard for her to deal with after three days of back to back shifts. She’s called my mom before to ask us to take Max for a night just so she can get some sleep.
The most recent time Amelia dropped Max off, she said that he’d been having painful prolonged erections, and that we’d probably have to wipe his penis down with a damp washcloth to get it to go back in. Now, I’ve had dogs for most of my life, I’m not exactly a stranger to having to wipe down doggy nether regions (hell, I’ve dealt with so many clingons you could call me a starfleet ambassador). But having to do that for a blind dog who’s known to bite when he’s startled? Just the idea of having to hold him while someone else wipes makes me want to cry tears of frustration. I’ve already got two scars from him biting me, I’m not aiming for a third.
With all of his health issues, I’m convinced that it’d be much more humane to put Max down now rather than letting him (and quite frankly, everyone who has to take care of him) suffer indefinitely. But at the same time, he’s Amelia’s rock. She’s struggled with depression and anxiety all her life, and she was even hospitalized for severe suicidal ideation two years ago. She’s told me herself that some days, the only thing that gets her out of bed is having to take care of Max. I’ve had a dog like that before, and when he passed suddenly, it destroyed me for months. I’m worried that if Amelia did have to have Max put down, it might lead to her being hospitalized again, or worse. I can’t keep living with him, but at the same time, I can’t expect her to live without him.
TL;DR: my sister’s dog has many health issues that require special care, and I’m responsible for babysitting him while she’s at work. my sister has mental health issues, and taking care of her dog is both incredibly stressful for her and one of the few sources of joy she has. I believe it’d be more humane for everyone if she puts her dog down, but I also don’t want to take away one of the few things that makes her happy. Would I be the asshole if I told her I think she should put down her dog?
What are these acronyms?
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weaponizedducks · 5 months
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poor shiro cannot catch a fucking break can he. first he gets a crippling disease he's got two years to live. then an angsty wattpad breakup with his boyfriend then he gets kidnapped by aliens and pumped full of alien weed then he crashes on earth with so much walking midlife crisis energy that he gains the skinning puppies to make a fur coat hair, and then he immediately gets shot right back into space by his shittass little brother and weirdo friends with the literal matt clone. then this poor man is made the leader of an alien war, becomes a father to four fuckass teenagers through accidental child acquisition, is forced into the kim kardashian lifestyle by a ginger on drugs, gets kidnapped again, gets cloned, fucking dies, somehow comes back (yeah I'm not really clear about this) then this pathetic wet cat of a man, this stressed jean valjean father of four, experiencing his fourth midlife crisis and millionth mental breakdown, gains that senior citizen swag at twenty five. you could colour match his hair with a polar bear. then he witnesses a walking loreal ad (derogatory) get melted alive, watches a castle get blown up, loses three years in a space time jump and then finds out his ex- fiance who broke up with him right before he left has fucking died in a purple thumb invasion before he got to marry him. but oh no no no that's not the end for this poor sad man. poor guy doesn't get a second to grieve before he is visually assaulted by a less cunty sue sylvester ripoff and her gang of bitchy cheerios (this is admiral s*nda), and yet again made a leader against his will, and shot right back off into space again. then he watches the only other responsible adult in this entire franchise (hot badass space princess who like shiro did not catch a break) sacrifice herself and is left a struggling father. ends up marrying some random fucko. all while suffering through his shitass hot topic brother and blueberry disaster's doomed yaoi romance. oh yeah and he's only got one arm. give the guy a BREAK. FREE my man he doesn't deserve this 🔥🔥
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lassieposting · 11 months
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Concept:
Post-tadpole, Tav offers to help Astarion find a way to walk in the sun again, and she starts by going to different libraries and repositories and archives around the city to look for books that might be relevant. Astarion, obviously, has to stay in the rental room with the shutters closed during the daytime, so he can't come with her.
At some point, this takes her up to the posh part of the city, where the fancy ✨ scholarly ✨ archive is. She remembers most of the walk - it's not too far from the graveyard Astarion took her to, in the neighbourhood where he once used to live.
And like, it's never actually occurred to her that he could still have Actual Blood Relatives still living? It's not a topic she's ever thought to raise with him. But she has to sign in and out of the archive, and she just happens to notice the name three or four lines above hers: an initial and a surname she recognises.
Ancunín.
The same name from Astarion's gravestone.
A parent? A sibling?
A niece or nephew Astarion has never even met?
Thus begins a secondary quest of trying to reunite a broken family. Astarion is willing enough to talk about the few memories he still has of the thirty-nine years he had with his family before turning - a drop in the ocean compared to the 200 years spent suffering under Cazador - but he shuts down when she nudges him towards the likelihood that Mr & Mrs Ancunín are still alive. He retreats back behind the selfish, catty survivalist he was when she first met him and claims he has no interest in ever reconnecting. The pain in every clipped syllable says drop it, so she does.
But then he asks her, very quietly, several days later, what the initial was. He doesn't really react when she tells him - there's no obvious recognition, and he doesn't ask any follow-up questions or try to discuss it further. He just goes back to his book. She watches him out of the corner of her eye though, as she skim-reads her own giant tome of magical artifacts. A very long time goes by before she sees him turn a page.
For a good long while, the family issue gets put firmly on the back burner. They have other shit going on. Sometimes, it's following promising leads on a possible workaround for Astarion's sunlight allergy. Other times, it's the kind of ugly, ragged-edged breakdown that so often follows a period of relative safety and stability after a major trauma. He's been running in survival mode for two centuries, and now he's finally starting to feel secure enough for the rest of his mind to come back online, and all the trauma he couldn't handle at the time, all the pain and fear and tangled emotions survival mode was protecting him from, is catching up to him. During those sporadic episodes, trying to keep him from falling apart is her top priority and, well, time gets away from them and by the time he brings up his parents again, months or more have gone by, and they have a fairly good idea of what artifact of daywalking they need to find.
By the time it comes to actually meeting with them, still more months have passed, and they have already found it.
It's horrible, and heartwarming, and heartbreaking, and healing, and hurting, and so many other conflicting things that for a while - a long while - Tav doesn't know whether she actually did the right thing encouraging him to reach out to long-lost loved ones. It's a mess of moments that makes her heart ache for a dozen reasons. She finds out that Astarion looks most like his mother, but has his father's nose. She holds him for hours while he shakes and sobs into her shoulder because they never even left the city, they were here the whole time, and they never found him - and he's so angry and full of grief he doesn't know what to do with himself. She accompanies him to the home he was raised in, and the once-familiar surroundings jog memories he thought lost for good - he's glassy-eyed, recounting them to her, but she's fairly sure it's the good kind of glassy-eyed, so she doesn't mention it. She tries to make conversation at family dinner while he stares at his hands in his lap, dissociated, looking even more uncomfortable than she feels, utterly lost in a world that once fit him like a glove. There are a lot of feelings to try and mediate. They are all hurt, all damaged, all afraid, all looking for the ghost of a loved one in the face of a stranger.
But, eventually, there is a day where she overhears Astarion having a conversation with his father, and he sounds like himself - not the persona he puts on in public - and his father laughs at something he says in a way that's entertained rather than awkward. There is a day where his mother reaches out and he doesn't shake his head or step away - he lets her hug him goodbye. They have not slipped back into the graves they crawled out of in each other's lives - they are all very different people now - but they are learning new ways to fit together, and he seems to be pleased about it.
So she thinks, yeah, it was worth it.
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youremyheaven · 5 months
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Mrigashira: Always On The Run
TW: abuse, kidnapping, r*pe, murder, stalking, violence, incest
I have been doing more research on Mrigashira simply because for the last month or so, I have been seeing more Mrigashira like incidents more and more often (synchronicity, I suppose). It's so fascinating to me how literally the themes of this nakshatra manifest in real life.
For those of you who are unfamiliar with the mythology of this nakshatra, it goes like this:
Rohini was Brahma's favourite daughter. He loved her to such an extent that he tried to be sexually intimate with her. Traumatized, Rohini decided to leave heaven. She descended down to earth and took the form of a deer (a deer's head is the symbol of Mrigashira and the word "Mrigashira" literally translates to animal's head) so that she can hide away from her creepy father. Deers are animals who spend their lives in fear of danger. Every day it wakes up knowing that it will have to run for its life because its prey to many predators. There is no sense of safety.
In real life this translates to paranoia, stalking (being stalked as well as stalking others), kidnapping, being held hostage, incestual abuse, obsession, being exiled, going into hiding, being deprived of your "freedom", being gaslit/manipulated, stockholm syndrome, having a violent/unsafe home, being on the run, chasing as well as being chased etc
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Lindsay Lohan, Mrigashira Rising (she is also Bharani Moon and Venusian women are highly susceptible to abuse, which I'll explore further in a separate post)
Lindsay starred in a movie called I Know Who Killed Me which revolves around a young woman who is abducted and tortured by a sadistic serial killer. After surviving the abduction, she insists that her identity is that of another woman.
I would say both the themes of being abducted and held hostage and also being very confused about your identity are linked to Mrigashira (I won't give away the twist of the movie, but you should watch it, its not as bad as some people say it is). You have to remember that in the mythology, Rohini changed form from a woman to a deer, so changing identities, being confused about who you really are and by extension being susceptible to gaslighting and manipulation and also being paranoid about the same are all Mrigashira themes.
However, its not just victims who have Mrigashira placements, unfortunately, many perpetrators have Mrig in their charts as well.
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Boy George- Mrigashira Sun
In 2007, Boy George imprisoned a male escort in his house, chained him to the wall and beat him up. It was apparently a psychotic episode as George was struggling with cocaine addiction at the time. He was convicted and served a 15-month sentence.
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Sia- Mrigashira Moon
Sia felt uncomfortable being in the limelight and would suffer from constant anxiety and nervous breakdowns as a result of it in the early phase of her career. So when she made a comeback, she decided to wear wigs that covered her face and basically kept her hidden from view (all of these are Mrigashira themes).
Sia's relationship and obsession with Maddie Ziegler (Saturn in Mrigashira) has been extremely inappropriate. In 2014, at the age of 11, Maddie starred in Chandelier for Sia who was 38yrs old. Sia was a huge fan of Maddie after watching her performances on Dance Moms and reached out to her to star in the video. This began a long series of collaborations and performances.
Sia kept creating projects for Maddie to be in just so that she can keep her close and in her own words "protect her". But she cast Maddie as an autistic teen in a movie called Music for which Maddie received huge backlash and is considered very insulting movie to the autistic community. Maddie didn't even want to be in it but Sia forced her.
For many years, Maddie was the ONLY person that Sia followed on IG (now she's one of the five people she follows lol). Maddie would apparently have sleepovers with Sia and they'd snuggle in bed together? 🤮🤢🤮idk why a teenager has to live and snuggle with some middle aged woman who isn't even related to her?? Sia gets away with all this bc she's a woman, if a man did all this to a teenager he'd be accused of grooming her. Sia even bought Maddie her first car and tried to adopt her?? Sia basically made Maddie codependent on her from her early teens. I hope one day all the truth comes to light because their dynamic is seriously disturbing and Maddie has yet to speak up about it.
I personally find it morbid that a woman who found fame so nerve wracking and damaging as to hide behind wigs for her entire career would put a literal child out there as the "face" of her brand and then claim that she was "protecting" her. What or who exactly is she being protected from lol? if anything she is being exploited by a creepy older woman.
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Linda Hamilton, Mrigashira Moon
Linda played the iconic Sarah Connor in the Terminator who is supposed to be executed by a cyborg sent from the future. The entire movie basically features Sarah running for her life. This is a very literal manifestation of a Mrigashira trope.
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Bae Doona, Mrigashira Moon
several characters that Doona has played echo Mrigashira-esque themes. In Cloud Atlas, she plays a humanoid clone who has to eat "soap" which is the food that clones eat to remain acquiescent (it takes away their ability to remember or form new thoughts that aren't programmed into them- basically a scifi dystopian version of being gaslit). She eventually breaks free and learns the "truth" about her condition (another Mrigashira theme is "learning the truth" because Rohini escaped heaven after learning the truth behind her father's love).
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Ewan McGregor, Mrigashira Moon
Ewan starred in a movie called Big Fish which is about a frustrated son trying to determine the fact from fiction in his dying father's life.
Ewan plays the father in question. The son does eventually learn about the truth but blurring fact and fiction and not being able to distinguish which is which, being overly suspicious of others and their motives etc are all Mrigashira themes.
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Liam Neeson, Mrigashira Sun
In The Taken movies, Liam stars as a former CIA operative who must rescue his teenage daughter and her friend who has been abducted by human traffickers for sexual slavery while on a trip to Paris.
Liam is on the run throughout the movie, except he's the one chasing them and he is on a mission to rescue his abducted daughter (extremely on brand Mrigashira trope).
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Bear Grylls, Ketu in Mrigashira
speaking of running and chasing, lets talk about surviving in the wild, which also arguably correlates to Mrigashira. Bear Grylls aka the man who made a career out of teaching people how to survive in the wild has his Ketu placement here. i include Ketu placements because Ketu is how we channel our latent creative potential. it represents our imagination and creativity bc its the lowest point of our subconscious.
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BTS made their debut on 12th June 2013, so they have Mrigashira Sun atmakaraka & Jupiter (Pushya Moon, Mercury in Punarvasu amatyakaraka)
I have often wondered why Armies are so uniquely obsessive and why BTS seems mutually obsessed with their armies. For the most part it is a wonderful rapport (minus the saesangs) and knowing their Mrigashira connection cements it further.
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Amelia Earhart, Venus in Mrigashira atmakaraka
The Mrigashira urge to be an explorer of some kind is very interesting to me, I feel like they're always breaking into new territories and doing unprecedented things but always paying a personal price for it
Amelia was an American aviation pioneer. On July 2, 1937, Earhart disappeared over the Pacific Ocean while attempting to become the first female pilot to circumnavigate the world. To this day, no one is quite sure what happened to her.
Mrigashira nak is quite prominent in the charts of many people who have similarly gone exploring and never returned.
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Michael Rockefeller, Venus AK in Mrigashira, Mars Amk in Mrigashira
In 1961, he was on an expedition (??) in present day Indonesia (then Dutch New Guinea) when the boat he was in had overturned. He was with the anthropologist Rene Wassing who was rescued the next day but Michael was never seen or heard from again despite intensive searches all over the area. He was declared legally dead in 1964. There have been speculations over the years that he may have been a victim of cannibalism (which was practiced by the local tribes).
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Joshua Slocum, Ketu in Mrigashira
He was the first person to sail single-handedly around the world.
In 1909 he set sail from New England in the Spray (the name of his ship) to spend the winter in Grand Cayman and was lost at sea. He was assumed to have been the victim of a collision; he and the Spray were never found, and in 1924 he was declared legally dead.
To go exploring and never be found is tragically Mrigashiracore
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Hart Crane, Ketu in Mrigashira
On April 27, 1932, Crane, in an inebriated state, jumped off or fell off the steamship USS Orizaba and into the Gulf of Mexico while the ship was en route to New York. His body was never found.
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Glen Miller, Mrigashira Rising
American big band conductor, arranger, composer, trombone player, and recording artist before and during World War II, when he was an officer in the US Army Air Forces.
Miller went missing in action (MIA) on December 15, 1944, on a flight over the English Channel. In keeping with standard operating procedure for the US military services, Miller was officially declared dead a year and a day later. Nobody is sure as to what exactly happened to him and his body was never recovered.
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Jodi Sue Huisentruit, Mars in Mrigashira AmK
She was an American news anchor for KIMT in Mason City, Iowa. She disappeared in the early morning hours of June 27, 1995, soon after telling a colleague that she had overslept and was running late for work. Since there were signs of a struggle outside her apartment, Huisentruit is believed to have been abducted. However, extensive investigations failed to uncover any clues to her disappearance, and Huisentruit was declared legally dead in 2001.
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Victor Grayson, Mars in Mrigashira AK, Shravana Moon
He was an English socialist politician of the early 20th century. 
On 28 September 1920, Grayson was out drinking with friends when he received a telephone message. He told his friends that he had to go to the Queen's Hotel in Leicester Square and would be back shortly. He did not return and no one knows what happened to him.
It has been speculated that Grayson was murdered to prevent his revealing evidence of corruption.
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Salman Rushdie, Sun & Moon in Mrigashira
After his fourth novel, The Satanic Verses (1988), Rushdie became the subject of several assassination attempts and death threats, including a fatwa calling for his death issued by Ruhollah Khomeini, the supreme leader of Iran. Numerous killings and bombings have been carried out by extremists who cite the book as motivation, sparking a debate about censorship and religiously motivated violence. In 2022, a man stabbed Rushdie after rushing onto the stage where the novelist was scheduled to deliver a lecture at the Chautauqua Institution in Chautauqua, New York.
After the fatwa was issued, Rushdie took the name of Joseph Anton and lived in hiding under police protection for several years. The theme of Mrigashira running away and trying to hide manifests once again in this unfortunate example.
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Vili Fualaau, Uttara Ashadha Moon, Mrigashira Stellium (Mercury, Mars & Rahu)
In the 90s Vili Fualaau's case made major headlines when Mary Kay Letourneau, his teacher was arrested for raping the 6th grader whom she had known since he was in 2nd grade. She was 34 years old and pregnant with 12 year old Vili's baby 🤢🤮🤢and claimed that she did not know that it was a crime to have sex with minors??  While awaiting sentencing, she gave birth to Fualaau's daughter.
Shortly after Letourneau had completed three months in jail, the police caught her in a car with Fualaau. A judge revoked her plea agreement and reinstated the prison sentence for the maximum allowed by law of seven and a half years. Eight months after returning to prison, she gave birth to Fualaau's second child, another daughter. She was imprisoned from 1998 to 2004. Letourneau and Fualaau were married in May 2005, and the marriage lasted 14 years until their separation in 2019. She died from cancer in 2020 and even though they were separated, Fualaau took care of her until she passed away. He publicly claimed that he never saw anything wrong in their relationship.
Obviously many victims struggle to form a coherent understanding of what happened to them. Some eroticize their experiences, others romanticize them or normalize them. Its often difficult for Mrig natives to fully comprehend or understand the insanity of the really messed up things they went through. Fualaau was groomed and raped by this woman since he was a child yet he held her in positive regard and remained married to her for nearly two decades and took care of her until she passed away?
Its similar to Brooke Shields, Mrig Moon who always spoke glowingly about the mother who made her do a full frontal nude playboy shoot as a 10yr old child??
Mrigashira being a deva gana nakshatra is quick to forgive and forget, it is also a Mridu or gentle nakshatra and often times, just how ??? sympathetic they are towards people who have abused them baffles me.
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Gary DeVore- Jupiter in Mrigashira AmK, Uttaraphalguni Sun
He was a Hollywood screenwriter.
DeVore disappeared in June 1997, while driving at night from Santa Fe, New Mexico to Santa Barbara, California, prompting an extensive search and media speculation. DeVore was working in his office in Santa Fe trying to finish a script. DeVore had recently complained of writer's block, and so had decided to change his environment. When he finally finished the script, DeVore decided to drive home through the Mojave Desert. His wife Wendy was waiting for him at their beachfront house in Carpinteria, California. When she did not hear from him, she decided to call around 1 am (it was later discovered the call had not been recorded by the telephone company). He answered, but was not very specific on his location. This was the last time Wendy spoke with him.
A year later, he and his Ford Explorer were discovered submerged below a bridge over the aqueduct in Palmdale, California. After police had retrieved the vehicle from the water, it was found that his laptop containing the script (titled The Big Steal) was missing, as was his gun. DeVore's hands were missing; hand bones were found nearby but could not be conclusively identified as DeVore's. The discovery of DeVore's vehicle was considered suspicious, as the aqueduct was searched shortly after his disappearance was reported and nothing unusual was discovered. Police concluded that for DeVore to crash his vehicle in this location meant that he would have had to have driven 3 mi (4.8 km) against traffic without being seen. This would have been doubly difficult because the vehicle's lights were not switched on. DeVore's death has not been solved to date.
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Patty Hearst, Jupiter in Mrigashira AK, Sun & Venus in Shatabhisha (I had previously explored how Shatabhisha natives often endure abuse)
She first became known for the events following her 1974 kidnapping by the Symbionese Liberation Army. She was found and arrested 19 months after being abducted, by which time she was a fugitive wanted for serious crimes committed with members of the group. She was held in custody, and there was speculation before trial that her family's resources would enable her to avoid time in prison.
At her trial, the prosecution suggested that Hearst had joined the Symbionese Liberation Army of her own volition. However, she testified that she had been raped and threatened with death while held captive. At the time of her arrest, Hearst's weight had dropped to 87 pounds (40 kg), and she was described by psychologist Margaret Singer in October 1975 as "a low-IQ, low-affect zombie". Shortly after her arrest, doctors recorded signs of trauma: her IQ was measured as 112, whereas it had previously been 130; there were huge gaps in her memory regarding her pre-SLA life; she was smoking heavily and had nightmares. She is said to have been brainwashed into committing crimes for the SLA
There is a really unfortunate pattern of Mrig natives being brainwashed by others, living in hiding, being on the run and generally feeling unsafe. These are some extreme manifestations of the themes of this nakshatra.
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dollgxtz · 22 days
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Why’d you write Sylus so crazy? You’re turning him into one of those booktok men and he’s anything BUT that. I just don’t get it :/
Hi anon! I know my yandere!Sylus story is disturbing. And while yes, I do take great pleasure in writing such topics such as kidnapping n such, I genuinely just wanted to write a dark Sylus fic exploring a different version of him where his desires and upbringing lead him to hurt even the people he loves. I love tragic characters and stories!
Think about if you watch a horror movie. You know murdering and killing is bad and yet you still watch it for entertainment, to see what happens!
By the way, this isn’t to argue or call you out anon, just hoping to shed some light on my perspective as the author. I love when people ask about my work, and I’m happy to answer regardless of the context! My ask box is always open if any of you have questions!
Below is a breakdown of some of the complexities I wanted to portray!
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Yandere!Sylus Breakdown
I envisioned him as a deeply complex character—not necessarily in his emotions, because yandere!Sylus always knows exactly what he wants—but in the way he rationalizes his actions and interprets his “wrongdoings.”
On the surface, his actions are undeniably wrong. Kidnapping a girl, forcing her into a life of isolation, and desiring to have children with her while keeping her away from everyone she’s ever loved is, by all moral standards, reprehensible. However, Yandere!Sylus doesn’t see it that way. To him, these actions are justifiable as long as they fulfill a purpose in his grand design.
He operates with a calculated mindset, never doing anything unless he believes it will ultimately benefit him, even if it means causing immense suffering. The fact that the reader might hate him only reinforces his resolve; he views it as a challenge, something to be overcome or “fixed” rather than a deterrent.
This doesn’t mean he doesn’t love reader, he does. But he is inherently selfish at his core since that was what was needed to survive. I intend to break this down further!
In yandere!Sylus’s twisted logic, he genuinely believes that if he can get the reader pregnant, she will inevitably develop a bond with the child. He sees this as a means to an end—a way to “tame” her, to anchor her to him emotionally.
He is convinced that motherhood will soften her resistance, leading her to accept the life he has meticulously crafted for them. To him, this is not just a strategy but a deeply held belief that love, however twisted, can be cultivated through shared ties, like the birth of a child.
This version of Sylus is driven by a yearning for the idealized version of happiness that society often romanticizes—the “big happy family” with “children running around” and a “loving wife.” It’s a vision that he clings to desperately, not because he understands it in the way most people do, but because he was denied such love and stability as a child.
Sylus grew up in a world where love was scarce and survival was paramount, as depicted in the original story. This lack of nurturing has warped his understanding of love and family, leading him to believe that these things can be engineered or forced into existence.
In blending elements of the original story into this version of Sylus and the reader, I wanted to show the core aspects of his character while exploring new dimensions of his psyche. However, I didn’t want it to be an exact replication, as the reader in this version isn’t the canonical main character from the original universe. Instead, she represents an alternative narrative where Sylus’s obsessions and desires manifest differently, yet still retain the disturbing intensity that defines his character! ^o^
All in all, if this story isn’t for you. Don’t read it please. I write for a certain demographic of people who enjoy twisted media. It’s fiction after all! No one is truly getting hurt. I hope this helps with your confusion anon!
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deconstructthesoup · 7 months
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After years of reading Greek mythology adaptations, watching Greek mythology adaptations, listening to Greek mythology adaptations, and making my own Greek mythology adaptations, I've decided that there are two ways in which I will accept Hades as a villain.
The first is the way Hadestown handles him---yes, he's sympathetic and shown to care for his wife, which is a point, but they don't go the stereotypical route of "oh, Hades is the ruler of the afterlife, which is called the 'Underworld' and must therefore be hell? Definitely an evil goth boy, death gods are always evil because death is scary." No, they recognize the fact that Hades is the god of wealth, and use an incredible allegory of capitalism and industrialization that is of course at odds with his wife's solarpunk nature and her constant refrain of "it ain't right and it ain't natural" at her husband's practices. Stories where capitalism is the villain are always some of my favorites, and Hades does admittedly slide perfectly into that role as the god of riches... who just so happens to have dominion over souls.
And the second is one that I don't believe I've really ever seen, but is so, so, so fucking compelling to me, and it's Hades going the "you want a villain, I'll show you a villain" route---something that would fit in perfectly with a modern adaptation.
It would be so damn fun to see a Hades who has been constantly vilified through no fault of his own, either by Zeus or the narrative shifting as culture has shifted, seeing his image change from the passive and fair king of the afterlife who loved his wife and treated her as an equal to the cruel king of hell who keeps his wife captive and rules his domain with an iron fist. Hades, who was already the black sheep when his stories were first being told, and who now has to hear that he's the evil god while his misogynistic brothers are getting off scott-free and are barely even blamed for their rampant infidelity. Hades, who never did anything wrong other than take his brother's horrible advice once and always tried to be hardworking, fair, patient, and understanding. Hades, who had suffered the longest at his father's hand and likely would have taken the throne had Kronos not been a fucking monster, and yet had to watch as Zeus, who'd avoided all of the trauma and had been doted on and treated like a perfect prince his entire life, ended up getting all the glory and reward while not even letting Hades have the dignity of being an Olympian...
After thousands of years of that, it wouldn't take long for Hades to snap.
And I would adore to see a story where Hades claims the role of the villain out of trauma and bitterness and anger, and for it to culminate in a third-act breakdown where he realizes he's lost sight of himself but for him to still get the catharsis of letting it all out
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otakuworks · 2 years
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❛ 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑. reborn au
feat. Zhongli x Reincarnated!GN!Reader | PART II | wc. 5.4K
Based on 'See You In My 19th Life' webtoon | overview. This Webtoon follows the story of a woman who somehow can remember all her past lives.
sum. You were running too fast in life, so fast that no one could catch up, not even Morax who left you to fend off with your curse. Just when you thought you'll slip and fall, a certain consultant came behind and caught you.
cw. mentions of extreme emotion breakdown. cttro 双niarss on Twitter for the art below.
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main m.list genshin m.mlist
PART I < PART II
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THEME SONG; Slump by Stray Kids (English Version)
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There are five stages of grief; Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression and Acceptance. All in order.
In your case, it was the other way around. You have long accepted Morax will lay on his deathbed one day, every living thing will eventually cease to exist, mortal and immortal alike
You, out of all people know the in-depth concept of death.
And yet, no amount of tutelage or experience can prepare you for the real thing.
Now you understood what Morax felt when you died.
Your chest feels raw like there's a sudden gash wound that has manifested in your heart. It was painful, too painful that you wouldn't wish it upon anyone, even on your worst enemy.
Scratch that. It's not just pain. It feels something more destructive, demanding and insatiable, crueler than sorrow. Not even death can appease this feeling.
It was agony.
Impale your abdomen with a spear hundred times. Sever your limbs every lifetime. Suffer for all eternity hiding behind Morax and watch him love with someone else over and over again— you'd take them all and say thank you.
You'd be grateful and endure each of them just to trade whatever horrible feeling that's tearing you apart.
Confusion, terror and fright blanketed your mind as you slumped on the floorboards, desperately gasping for breath.
The acrid smell of snarling lightning crackles in the stale midnight air, sharp enough to singe every nerve of your body, rendering you cowering in overwhelming emotions— agony, pain and grief.
Inazuma was bustling with the news of the Geo Archon passing away recently. You could only imagine how Liyue is digesting the cruel twists of events.
The news spreads fast enough for foreign people to sympathize to Liyue citizens, some even offered prayers to the Raiden Shogun, some pay their respects by wishing the late Archon to rest in peace, some never bothered to care.
But none of them mourned in the confinements of their four walls as you did, the Celestia above knows the quiet sobs that wrecked the very core of your existence. The horrors of every shitty lives you went through cannot be compared to this day.
Rex Lapis, who is— was widely known for many names, mostly as the Geo Archon, God of War, God of Contracts, Former Prime Adepti, the Stonebreaker, God of History is now reduced by dust with his people carrying the legacy he has passed on.
To you, all this time, he's still... Morax the petulant child who leans on you for comfort, who politely demands you to sing a lullaby as kids. You're already sold to the idea no one would ever believe you if you told them what embodiment of mischief he was in the ancient times, the exact opposite of the Archon they knew about.
Nostalgia hits you in particular days you can't find traces of the young Morax, but Pride would caress your heart every achievement he succeeds as you watch the people love him.
Similar to a lone planet, you desperately search for a star to orbit around, to give you a source of energy and strength. Once you find one, it'll be difficult to rearrange your position after you have settled down, you're attached until the star loses its amber glow.
And now the star is gone. Gone with the cosmos after a supernova.
Destroying the neighboring planets, including you.
You were the closest in its orbit, you're the one who had to endure the scorching flames morphing you into ashes until you're reduced into cosmos particles for no one to remember.
Morax left you to fend off with your curse and face adversities alone.
Mortals would succumb to these adversities and would choose to sever their connection to the living to escape from everything. You've seen a handful of them and can't ever get enough of it.
If there's anything you long to have other than having Morax beside you is a swift escape.
Every mortal is capable of such thing, you are too, but it's pointless if the pain will cling to you in your next life. It's fruitless to cry when you know every affliction won't be forgotten even if you tried.
Just why?! Why do I have this perpetual curse of reincarnation? I abhor you, Celestia! Not only you cursed me, you even took away Morax from this land!
You shake your head as the anger surge took over your sanity. You thought you can just go live your merry life, unbeknownst how dependent you were to Morax.
Your will to live is solely operated by the fact you have someone you want to protect. But now he's gone? What's the back up plan? Clearly you can't just follow him in his death knowing you can die, but your memories will remain with you.
Was it out of selfishness to protect him to have someone accompany your lonely soul? Because he's the only one who actually remembers the real you?
Rain began to pour from the desolute atmosphere as you heard disembodied voices theorizing Morax's death. The muffled thundering of the storm only growing louder, reminding you of today's unsavory news. How convenient, the sky is sympathizing.
No, make it stop! I don't want fo hear any of it! Morax is dead, that's how nature works. I'm griefing because it hurts, not because I have nothing to live for.
You lived in that illusion for minutes until. . .
*drip* *drip*
. . . the dam broke.
Hot tears streamed down your face, and you squeezed your eyelids shut in the hope the pain would stop, just numbing it would be fine too. Your choppy breathing and watery eyes remained for quite some time, and sat there unmoving.
There's no see you later's anymore, for Morax has left you. Today has marked your first Goodbye to him.
For an indiscernible amount of time, there was only a black void and it could have been as if you didn’t exist and you had never existed.
And then you felt each of your cells that had been ripped apart within seconds be sewed back together just as quickly, and your eyes met nothing but a blinding white light.
Have I reborn again? You're not aware which is which anymore. You lift your numb hand and reality crashed over your head, you haven't died out of grief, yet.
Your mind is in havoc, you don't know what you want, not that you have any choice.
Dying won't help you escape, forgetting is not an option, loving. . . can't heal an open wound.
No words can equate the absolute devastation you feel.
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❖ ── ✦ ── 『 6000 YRS AGO 』 ── ✦ ── ❖
This is stupid. Utterly ridiculous!
What kind of mortal would go in the mines in the middle of the night where monsters lurk in the shadows to hunt for preys? Yeah, that's a question he would like for you to answer!
He flies twice the speed he usually exerts, his mind running rampant of all worst possible scenarios.
He doesn't know what compelled you to do such ridiculous act, but all he knows is he has get to you before any monsters do.
Landing unceremoniously, he gulps at the sight before him. He was never a fan of darkness, it never fails to instill fear in him, the fear of the unknown.
The only time he feels comfortable in the night is whenever you're around him. You don't fear the night, and it somehow influenced him in a way that there's nothing that should be afraid of as long as you're with him— as his human shield.
Young Morax finds himself slowly withdrawing, the fear overpowering his will to come and save you.
"Morax? What are you doing out here?" Saved by the gracious voice of yours, young Morax nearly broke his neck with how fast he looked at your direction.
Your face is contorted out of concern for him, he's sweating profusely and his breathing is ragged.
Just seeing you all in one piece with no signs of injuries made hin slumped on the ground, sighing in relief.
You were at his side seconds later, subconsciously caressing his cheeks. Celestia above! He's shaking like a leaf!
"It's alright, let's get you out of here." Your soothing voice appeased his troubled mind as you helped him get back on his feet. He clutches the fabric of your shirt and wordlessly launches himself on you, arms and tiny tail entrapping you in an embrace.
You waste no second reciprocating the gesture, you've known him for months to be comfortable with physical sentiments. Though you can't say the same to him as he would always flinch away when you initiate it, but has no problem when he does it.
And it seems like he needs your comfort to even give a damn.
"Whatever it is, it can't hurt you now okay?"
From that angle, he peered from below you as if confirming the validity of your words, amber eyes looking like someone has kicked an innocent puppy, it's no wonder you have a soft spot for him.
Both of you strayed away from the caves leading to mines, "I-I thought you l-left me." He meekly mumbled, almost incoherent.
That baffles you as he continues, "I overheard f-from your village that m-monsters are increasing in the area and you're probably..."
"Shh... I'm here now, aren't I? I'm sorry you have to hear that, I can assure you I haven't encountered any marauding monsters during my little excursion." You sighed, guilt pooling your conscience.
He sniffled, "So, you're not going to leave me?"
"Can I even go anywhere when you have a sharp sense of smell?"
"I'm a dragon, not a wolf." He whined, though you could still see the glint of dubious in his eyes, "Can I trust your word?"
Words never served him better than actions, you ought to show him you honor your word by affirming it through gestures.
Smiling, you offered your hand to him.
"How about you hold my hand on our way home? Will that help?" He stares at you and literally contemplated before he relented.
It's warm, much similar to your hug, but like a form of hug that has been reduced to a smaller fraction. It's still a paragon of comfort.
Surely enough, it did help his mind to be at ease. If you ever feel like he's cutting off your circulation, he is cutting your circulation by intertwining your fingers as if trying to tangle it so it won't loose.
"I'm sorry, you must think I'm stupid for cowering away just because of some stupid dark cave." He lowered his head in shame.
He's a Dragon who has greater strength than most beings, and yet he lets his fear consume him as if they can hurt him like how—
"Nonsense! Don't ever think like that or I will personally be the reason why you should fear humans." As stern as you sound, your eyes tell a different story.
Young Morax deduced this as concern, which resulted a flustered and heartwarming reaction from the boy. You were worried for him.
It shouldn't be something he's supposed to feel happy about, but your fretful intentions warranted warmth and security in his mind.
"I didn't know how oddly. . . pleasant it is to hold hands." He mused, and you responded with an amused giggle, "Here I thought only couples do this stuff, but it's really reassuring."
"It does, doesn't it? Sometimes the solution to your conflicts is in a form of validation."
Too wise for a kid, he inwardly complained, ". . .Meaning?"
You hold his other hand and stood to face him with a sequined smile, "No matter how minuscule or massive your fears are, you'll still find comfort when someone validates your feelings; to let you know that they care. It may not be the solution in some cases, but it's better than being alone in times of your vulnerability."
You leaned slightly closer, "Can I ask you a favor?" Your gaze pierced right through his soul and he can only nod absently which resulted for you to grin.
"If you see someone, friend and stranger even enemies, looking so vulnerable that they actually might cry. . ." You lifted your intertwined hands with his, ". . .Make them feel significant."
A cold midnight wind whisked past the both of you, your eyes shone brighter than jewels and stars alike as you spoke those words that made a huge impact in his life.
". . .Even if my enemies are about to cry because I'm about to end their miserable lives?"
What a way to ruin the moment.
"You know what I mean, Mora." You deadpan, preparing to let go of his hand, but his grip is much stronger and it only tightens once he feels you're trying to detach.
"I'm afraid you have to elaborate further, Y/N. And please, I only have two syllables in my name. What's so hard in including the X?" In contrast to his words, he quite enjoys hearing his nickname.
"The X is not even a syllable, Mora."
That time, young Morax found peace.
He's always on the hunt for something new, something glimmering, something incredible, something undiscovered and something bedazzling. That's how his childlike brain thinks and he seizes anything outwardly beautiful.
But he never knew how amazing it was to see something— or rather, to see someone's beauty on the inside.
Perhaps that's what draws him to you, because of your voice, patience and understanding. He would never admit it though
To him, you're beautiful inside and out, almost perfect, even your flaws are easy to love.
He can't deny he wasted a few immortal years just mourning your death, you'd probably scold him.
Within those years, he's only reliving the memories and wise words you have with him. He wanted to come out as a better person after your death, take it as an honour of your passing.
You made him for what he is.
If he hadn't met you he'd still be the intolerable, impatient and disrespectful person as he grows up.
He'd still fear the unknown, never having the courage to take risks and accept whatever outcomes.
Everything he does always brings him back to you, his actions always correlates to something that's relevant about you. It had always been you.
He prays the Celestia to let you know you will always be apart of his person. Yes, you died, but every lingering piece of you still remains intact in the deep recesses of his mind.
He has moved on, but you remain the person he loved the most. Not even the sands of time has the capability to change that.
"How disastrous. People can be really simple-minded." Morax rubbed both of his temples once he heard the speculation of him and Guizhong plausible relationship.
"I apologize on their behalf, it never crossed my mind they'll be quick to make assumptions." The fair Goddess bowed in shame.
"You have done nothing wrong to spark such rumors, Guizhong. If anything, it is I who should seek forgiveness for I have tied you down with such unpleasant gossips."
She meekly chuckles, "If we're going to paint ourselves as the culprit then we might as well work together to quell the rumors."
His perfectly lined eyebrows knitted, which didn't go unnoticed by Guizhong, "What seems to be troubling your mind?"
A few seconds ticked by before he let out a whisper that only Barbatos can only hear thanks to his wind. For Guizhong who has keen sense of hearing, "If Y/N was here I'll gear up for another war just to extinguish this spreading rumors." She stifled a laugh.
Oh, she knows alright. She knows you. She knows the person who captivated Morax's heart, it's all about he talks to her in their leisure time and you're not a secret between their comrades.
Most people would find it dull to listen about someone's life unless it held any merit to pass onto the other mouth, she would too. But Morax describes you like a protagonist of a fairy tale, like some mythical being, caught between two worlds, a miracle of existence that racked his existence— which makes you an interesting person
She was so eager to meet you, it was rather unfortunate that you've already passed on uncountable years ago.
"Where are you going?" She inquired as the Geo Archon whisk passed her, "Out to visit an old friend. I won't be returning until tomorrow dawn."
She sighed, a corresponding smile soon follows as she took over his job for the meantime.
Morax walked through the barren areas in Mt. Tianheng, it became part of his leisure activities during the day when his mind needs to detach itself from reality and let himself be swayed by the memories he tucked in the deep recesses of his mind.
Memories of his late comrades who perished in the horrors of war and the most painful but nostalgic one; Y/N.
He ruefully sighed at the thought of you. Even in death, you have full grasp of his heart and shroud his head with your image.
Filtered beams of light accented the spaces between the ancient trees that twisted like spires from the undergrowth. Golden leaves littered the forest floor as Morax appraised the trail of mycelium path, one leading to a particular tree.
His expression remains unchanging, at least that's what he thought, any stranger sees him they'll stop to ponder what made this godly man smile so fondly.
A single maple leaf flow with the breeze, swaying in inconsistent direction until it falls in his gloved hand. The rich color of autumn and texture brings him back in his youthful days.
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[ cttro papercider on Twitter ]
"Ah! All I do is reminisce to pass time." He muttered to himself as he let the leaf get carried away by the zither winds once again.
"It certainly has been awhile, Y/N. I was but a petulant child since I've visited you. I now stand here as the Geo Archon." It has been a habit to come back to this specific tree and treats it as his home.
It's a sacred place he's closely attached to, he can perfectly picture his young self failing to spy on you. He grimaced at the memory when he was caught in the act.
"I still have no idea why you let me trail your shadows, you weren't least afraid that I'm a dragon. You told me you're fascinated, but. . . was that the only reason?"
Only the breeze answered for him with nothing, "If you hadn't allowed me to do so I do not know what kind of person I would be as of today." He steps closer and pulled off his hood.
He let the silence hang for minutes, maybe even hours. Just standing there as he appreciates what nature has to offer in the place where his story began with you.
"Are you proud of me? My comrades claimed they were more than proud to stand alongside with me, but I doubt the veracity of their words when I led them to their demise. Is it that prideful to have me as a friend when I bring nothing but misfortune?"
He finally sat down between the roots of the tree, relishing the blissful comfort as the sunlight accentuates his godly features.
"I met a boy who was being manipulated by an evil god who only desires power and selfish gains." He began.
"He was a fierce warrior, strong and capable, the manipulation only fuels him to be at his strongest form. I was thinking of eradicating him, but his eyes already looked so dead. It reminded me of. . ."
He holds his tongue and shuts his eyes as he's in pain, "It would be one of my greatest regrets if I had impaled my spear into him."
"I thought of you that time. Hadn't it been to my promise to you, I wouldn't have gained a new ally. Xiao is his name."
The wind blew stronger, ". . . I forgot you can summon him just by calling out his name." He chuckles to himself.
Green statics cracked into the air and quickly revealed a masked man with his polearm readied for any danger.
"Settle down now. I apologize, your name slipped in my mouth." The young Yaksha visibly looked confused even under the layers of his mask.
"I was narrating a story to my old friend Y/N."
Guizhong couldn't have been more right.
By the end of the day, Xiao now knows every detail there is to know about the person called Y/N. It's what Morax ever talk to him.
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"Mr. Zhongli is in a very elated mood ever since you told him Archon knows what, Traveler." Hu Tao, the Director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor finds the situation quite absurd to look at, but never impossible. His mood just feels out of place.
Who looks at mournful families with an eccentric smile on their face as they consult them about their loved one's death?
"Why does Paimon feel like you're pointing finger at the traveler?" She puts her tiny hands on tiny her hips like a mother hen.
The Traveler let out a nervous laugh, "I wonder what exactly brought him in such high spirit with my words."
"Ooh... Paimon thinks it's about Y/N. Isn't it obvious by now?" Hu Tao furrowed her eyebrows, "Y/N? You mean the Adventurer?" Both heads snapped at her direction, "You know them?"
She reluctantly shrugged, "Only at acquaintance level. They showed interest in business and I taught them a few things." She smiled at the epilogue of her statement.
"If they ever come back, my hunch tells me you'd find them in Wangshu Inn, they frequented there before." She added before turning her attention to a new customer.
Zhongli, who's been eavesdropping, perked up at the claims. Perhaps he should visit Xiao tonight and totally won't inquire if he ever met you before.
Midnight falls and Zhongli bid his farewell to the traveler before heading towards the Wangshu Inn.
For some unknown reason, Zhongli could sense the foreboding feeling that's nagging his instincts as he gets closer to his desired destination, yet he doesn't stop. What's worse is that he doesn't know if it's for the good or bad.
All of a sudden, a harsh breeze blew past his face as if the winds attempting to convey a message that's only for his intuition to decipher, for him to meander.
Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw his statue glowing bright blue, but that wasn't what caught his attention. A hand reached out to touch the stone statue.
A mop of [H/C] facing him backward bowed down in respect of the late Rex Lapis, but Zhongli could feel a much more intense feeling.
Something stirs inside him, he remembers this situation— when he watched Y/N with such fascination from above the tree, not knowing what they look like, yet they never fail to express their feelings through threaded words he finds so wondrous to hear.
In contrary to that, the person appears to be. . . forlorn. He stepped closer until he's only less than five meters away from them.
All of a sudden, he feels skittish around the person. It's as if he doesn't want to leave a bad first impression, he's suddenly self-conscious of his looks, and Zhongli never cared about his outer appearance.
Then they spoke, in a solemn voice.
"See you later, Mora. I hope you found your eternal peace."
There are times when you wish you'd forget Morax, some that you don't. But still, in the birth of new beings, you will find Morax in his next life. The prospect of being alone is a phobia you can't ever overcome unless you have Morax.
What a joke. It should've been a farewell. Your final goodbye to your old friend. Not a hopeless see you later.
It took you months to come with that mindset, only to end up saying what's the exact opposite.
It was difficult to come back in Liyue, every step adds a new pile of memory that drags you further into the depths of agony. Every where you look reminds you of the late Geo Archon. Each encouraging word in your mind gets trampled on by his image.
You consider it as an achievement to stand tall in front of his statue after his death, and a failure that you didn't get to bid your final words to him before you depart from Liyue.
You're still clinging to a nonexistent hope that you'll actually get to see him even after your death. Old habits die hard they say. It couldn't have been more relatable than now.
Sighing in disappointment, you retracted your hand from the statue and briskly turn around when you felt the disturbance behind you.
A gloved hand suspended in the air seems to be trying to reach out to you. As you raise your eyes to meet the oh-so-familiar glowing amber eyes that you grew to love. . .
You offered the stranger a faux smile, seemingly naive to the person standing in front of you with an aghast expression.
You failed to realize Morax as Zhongli just as Morax failed to realize you in your different lives.
"Hello. How may I help you?"
Oh, how the tables have turned.
Time has stopped, both hands of the clock moved counterclockwise, bringing him back to the time he first laid his eyes on you— so unsuspecting from what's about to unravel after a sweet hello.
His broadened eyes are solely fixated on you, it ingnited a feeling he couldn’t immediately identify, a sense of a certain and long-forgotten familiarity fogged his memory.
From the color of your eyes, skin and hair. The subtle furrow of your eyebrows and the upturn of your lips. The gentle facade that compelled him to indulge his curiosity towards you.
Y/N. . . Are you the Y/N the traveler was talking about?
But you bare no resemblance to the Y/N he knew, yet he can tell how it is your soul residing in the mortal's body. It is you. Your eyes aren't the ones that welcomed him as new friend. It feels different.
You're smiling while your eyes are grieving.
Your eyes failed to conceal your weeping soul and could only hope the last bits of its strength will keep it standing until someone reach a hand to put back the shattered pieces.
Behind that gleeful stare was a mountain of pain and extracting it would bring instability to the person who would dare to climb. Yet come what may, you're always worth any risk.
He lowered his hand to shake yours, his lips upturned into an enigmatic smile.
Your heart went erratic and the usually dormant butterflies imploded in your stomach. You haven't felt like a teenager since. . .
You felt your breath hitch in your throat when suddenly, with a mere handful of strides, the beautiful man was standing right in front of you, his amber eyes searching your face intently, trying to find whatever it was he was seeking.
"My name is Zhongli, I'm a consultant in Wangsheng Funeral Parlor." Your [E/C] eyes blinked surreptitiously before accepting it. What a beautiful name, you thought almost immediately.
Under normal circumstances you would've strictly reprimanded the man with his incongruous advances, but you felt something else, something so powerful it overshadowed your senses.
It was a need, an unyielding need to be close to him.
Rather than pushing him away, something inside you stirs awake and begin to implore to coalesce with his existence.
"I'm Y/N L/N, an adventurer."
So it is really you.
He briefly looks down to their intwined hands.
For countless nights, the image of your bloodied hand reaching out to him as you take your last breath plagued his every dream. The tender, soft hands that will no longer bring him comfort. The hand of the person whom he loved so dearly, whom he failed to protect against the wicked ways of the world.
The intense urge to hide you away from the prying eyes that shared similarities to his kept his mind in shambles.
Which what led him to mumble to you what his thoughts are repeating like a mantra.
When he spoke the promise he'll show you what's up at the highest altitude his wings could go, he was mostly speaking out of his selfish desire to hold onto your hand and fly you away to the farthest place no living creatures have ever stumbled upon.
He had to learn it the hard way; that the greater you wish for something, the crueler fate can be. Maybe if he hadn't been so greedy you could've live your mortal life.
Now that you are standing in front of him, shaking your hand, he can amend his mistake by straying far away from you before he repeats history itself, before he could inflict pain on you again.
And yet, looking at you attempting to shoulder the boulders of life is what all it takes for all the wisdom he garnered for centuries to be thrown out the window.
He can't imagine himself distancing from you when you're suffering and have no one comfortable enough to share your burdens with, no one to validate your feelings, no one to embrace you in your vulnerable times.
You taught him to be compassionate, to not disregard emotions, and he's about to set that in motion. You were there when he needed you the most, offered your shoulder to vent out his feelings, it's about time to let him do what you always did for him.
It became abundantly clear he's not willing to let you go through anything alone just like he had gone through without you.
"You claim you're a consultant. Did you perhaps think I'm a potential customer?"
He let go of your hand as much as he loathes being away from your warmth for even just a second, he's still convinced you can be taken away from him at any given moment.
"Indeed, I couldn't stand idle and watch you grieve alone." He watches how you averted your eyes as if hiding the pain would appease your mind.
"I appreciate the thought. . . though, I highly doubt it'll be effective."
He mentally chuckled at the irony. He, too, was once amazed of what simple gestures can bring to a downhearted person.
"Hmm. An old friend once showed me how to console a person. Allow me to share their insights."
Your eye brows perched in curiosity, this man speaks like he's in his 50s or something, ". . .If you insist. I could use a company for now."
Morax experienced eons of desires to attain what he wishes to, though he refrains from being blinded by those greedy thoughts as he had witnessed how cruel fate can be when he once desired to have you. Will history repeat itself?
Zhongli chortles in response, but his expression soon turned nostalgic, "I may not know what adversities you're facing nor do I know who you are, but know that you're never alone."
His smile never left his face as he takes off his glove and held the palm face forward to you, he watches how your eyes glisten with unshed tears, "W-What is that supposed to convey?"
You didn't even notice how much gap he closed just to increase the proximity between the both of you. Archons! You can smell the lingering scent of Osmanthus Wine mingling with his breath!
Is he a drunkard like Venti?
Perhaps this man is drunk to comprehend his actions, perhaps he won't remember this the never next day, perhaps he has mistaken you for someone else, perhaps—
"Wherever you wish to go, I'll keep you company. I dare ask if I may hold your hand along the way, Y/N?"
Perhaps there's hope you can cling onto until your aching heart is at ease.
Your hand found its way to his, almost too desperate to not let this moment of comfort vanish. Just this once, you thought to yourself as the man smiled with absolute glee that it puts the sun in shame.
Out of reflex, your fingers laced with his, wanting nothing more than to relieve in the warmth of his hand. His expression soon turned into a priceless one as if he's in disbelief that you actually just did that, and that alone made the realization struck you harder than Raiden's lightning and fried your nerves with embarrassment.
"I-I'm so-sorry! I didn't mean to get too comfortable!"
You're a stranger to him, and you acted as if you've been a longtime friends. He must have been feeling uncomfortable, you nervously thought as you quickly tried reel back your hand in an attempt to salvage whatever budding acquaintanceship you have.
Keyword; tried.
Your action prompts him to retaliate by locking his fingers in place, keeping your hand sealed with his and shot you a reassuring smile.
"Do not fret. I'm delighted to know I somehow earned a little fraction of your trust. It's only fair to mirror the trust you gave me."
As if to spell out his point, he held up your intertwined hands just below your chin. His eyes blazed with a newfound emotion you couldn't decipher. He almost looks eager. He was gripping your hand, not too tight, but firm enough give emphasize of something.
His action wasn't fruitless as it gained a reaction from you. Your eyebrows twitched, there's something too familiar about it, but your memory refuses to give you that answer.
Instead, you could only mutter weak responses, "I-I understand, but if you feel uncomfortable in any way then don't hesitate to point out what I'm doing wrong."
Whether it was a satisfying answer he wants to hear, his emotions betrayed to even give you a brief answer and his face only lit up as he turns away from you, "You could never do anything wrong in my eyes."
Did he just say something? "What was that?"
"Nothing. Are you new in Liyue? I could give you a tour if you'd like to make you familiarize with the environment."
Your lips turned into a genuine smile, it didn't reach your ears but something tells you this man will lengthen it until you're the happiest person alive, "I'd love to, Zhongli."
As the wind blows to the East, a new chapter has began with a new retelling of their unfinished story. Until the last maple leaf falls and the oldest standing tree drought, two souls will always find their way to rekindle what has been lost.
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>> PART III
─ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. @itsyourgirlria @shizunxie @elsoleil @cherlynono @slzarr @katsuissus @tartarsaucechi1de @spyanya @tikitsune @shoujishu @useless-potatho @chimsblogg @xiamuyi @lemonlimesocks @belletifeshyl @alexon-mars @multifandomvoyage @malt-rants-and-stuff @jameineliebe @angelkazusstuff @orginiallyann @eissaaaa @beezgobuzzbuzz @towos @kamukayakmonyet @atsukawolfcat @sunflowers1970 @yamtwt @avery-needs-more-fics @angstylittleb1tch @bigcandlesmolbrain @lxmine @imk1ra @fauxizs @islxisl @chihawari @bishishbored @yuuki4646 @sunsethw4 @princeabomination @alexiris @chocolateneapolitan @ayra2452008 @akaritenchi @sophiee-bush @ittosoneandoniwife @alatus2716 @almighty-raiden-shogunate
(it's my first time doing tags so pls inform me if it's not working, idk why the others are white, did I do something wrong??)
PS. if you want to get tagged for the next part or be removed then simply comment it TAGLIST is for the readers who want to be updated for my future genshin works.
─ 𝐀/𝐍. Can you all smell that? *sniff sniff* I smell a Xiao ver. of this 👀👀 Fr, I didn't expect the fic will be loved that much as I initially thought, I received many appreciative comments and messages which is what motivated me to write part 2, and possibly part 3 (just for the fluff) since this was supposed to be a series but I crossed that idea out until everyone broke my expectation. Thank you💜💙 and merry christmas everyone ❤💚
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bluerosefox · 9 months
Text
Roting Jasmine Flowers and Dead Robins
[Anger management Crime Lord! Jason and a Dark/dark grey Jazz] [warning, murder plots, mentioned character deaths, and other things]
We all know what happened to Danny when he lost everything.
But what if this time it's Jazz.
Jazz who lost everything at the hands of the GIW when she was on a college tour while she was in Gotham, suffering and grieving from the news her parents (who finally started to choose both Danny and her over their projects and are in the know of Danny's halfa status), Sam and Tucker, Dani (who was finally family) and her baby brother, the boy she basically raised had died.
The GIW wants their hands on Fenton Tech but seeing how Jazz is the sole Fenton alive and everything gets put under her name they decide to pull some strings in Gotham, using her breakdown in front of the Dean of the college she had been visiting when the news came to her, to get her sent to Arkham for her 'breakdown'
Once unlawfully placed in Arkham the GIW visit and try blackmail her into signing over rights to her parents inventions and tech and it would be a shame that her family and friends death effected her to the point she'll never be able to leave Arkham because she lost her mind. Basically this alarms Jazz and with some more words she gets the hints that her family and Danny's friends death wasn't an accident.
And the GIW was the reason why.
In anger Jazz goes to attack but is held back my guards and the GIW use this to get Jazz signed as 'insane' and 'unstable' and with some bribing and blackmail gets her tossed completely into Arkham.
....While in Arkham, her rage builds and bubbles.
She wants them dead. All of them. She wants every single one of them, all the GIW, to die by her hands.
But first she needs to prepare. She needs to plan. She can't go in a blind rage.
No.
She was going to make them pay for everything.
She'll make them regret taking everything from her. And tossing her in Arkham was such a foolish thing to do. There are many she can learn from here, even if they don't teach her anything she has been good at observing.
....
A few months later, almost a year, rumors of the newest Crime Alley Crime Lord being sent to Arkham was the fastest rumor being spread in the place.
And teal eyes watched, curiously and gleaming with questions from her cell as the guards dragged a young man around her age to his own cell.
Teal meets blue and for a second both their eyes flashed green.
And for a moment Jazz felt the longing familiar feel of a fellow limenal present.
And Jason feels not alone anymore.
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idkfitememate · 9 months
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I am CRYING. FURINA MY BABY YOUR TEAPOT LINES MAKE ME CRY. SHES SO INNOCENT BUT SHES BEEN SO TRAUMATIZED IT HURTS ME. WHY FOCALORS WHY.
😭😭 Furina asks us to dress up as a duo with her. And she said she’d even do our makeup. She’s trying to take back her stolen childhood. MY EYES ARE PUFFY FROM TEARS.
DONT GET ME STARTED ON THE ‘the more you let someone in the easier it is for them to hurt you’ LINE. SHES SCARED TO LET PPL IN AND IM WAILING.
I wanna give her all my love and affection!!! 😭
-🦌 anon, who is curled up on the floor crying
The Curtains Close
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૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა Pairings : GN! Otter Reader x Furina & Neuvillette
૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა W.K. : 1.1k
໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ Tags/CW&TW : Angst to fluff, Furina is going through a breakdown, Neuvillette realizes he’s been distant
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Forcing Furina on a bed wasn’t easy. The entire day was spent with and you having a “bonding day” and spend the day inside.
Makeup and clothes whirled past in a blur of blues and makeup was pressed into your fur. The entire day was fun, eating snacks and overall just having fun.
At least, it would be if you didn’t notice the sadness behind Furina’s eyes.
Every time she looked at you in your frilly little dress with a big blue bow around your waist and a smaller blue and gold bow around your head.
Now, you’d be a little ticked at being forced into an outfit, but seeing her on the verge of tears when you began to shake your head no - no matter how much she would deny it - you forced your pride down your throat and and put it on.
Her smile was worth it.
The entire day you could just feel her off-ness, and you’re pretty sure you know why. The events pertaining her curse and the death of that bi- I mean Foçalors had just passed and Furina was finally free.
Free to be human once more.
You, knowing the lore, knew that she had suffered with being alive - unchanging and never aging - for five-hundred-years. You knew that both Foçalors and Neuvillette understood that that would have and has had lasting effects on the poor girl.
But you knew they’d never understand. How could they? They were immortal. They had to get used to the passing of the ones they knew if they were mortal because they were literally built for it. Furina wasn’t. She never was.
And now that she was free, she was coming. Crashing down.
The curtain had fallen and the star of the show has fallen to her knees. Her tears stain the floor as the crowd leaves and her wails echo through the empty halls.
To be honest you haven’t seen much of Neuvillette around. You understood that he had new issues to attend to as the new overseer of the nation of Fontaine. But you barely see him in the halal’s anymore.
Your thoughts were immediately halted when you heard small sniffles coming from your friend.
Your head whipped in her direction only to see tears pouring down her face. You rushed over as fast as you could, wiping those tears away as you gently chittered at her, pulling her crumpled form up so she could face you. At your concerned expression, she only cried more.
“I-It’s just,” she started, “… Did she ever love me? Was I ever even worth anything to her? I played my part and danced till collapse and I didn’t even get a thank you! I don’t understand… I watched my friends die… I watched my f-family die… I outlived all of them! And I didn’t… even… get a thank you…” She broke down back into sobs, holding onto herself as she rocked back and forth.
You could only watch as she shattered in front of you. Pain and guilt rose in your stomachs as you stared. Huffing, you jumped off the bed, and grabbed your stuffed jellyfish, dragging it over and throwing it up before climbing up after her.
You gently nudged it towards her and made sure she grabbed on before jumping back down and racing through the halls.
You ran out the building as fast as your little legs could carry you, the winds of Teyvat boosting your form farther. You continued on until to made it to the Opera Eclipse and ran through there until you made it to Neuvillette’s office.
You didn’t even bother to knock before shoving to door open and rushing up to him. He stopped his writing and looked down, his eyes softening at you. He opened his mouth to speak before you grabbed his sleeve. You yanked and pulled and he finally stood up, allowing you to lead him.
Making it back home, you all but forced the man into Furina’s room, and forced him on the bed. She had stopped sobbing by this point, but silent tears still ran down her face.
She looked shocked at Neuvillette’s appearance and he looked shocked at her dishevelment. You shuffled up to her in the ridiculous dress you had on - you would later find out it perfectly match the dress Furina had on when she came into being, after being separated from Foçalors - and part her lips.
“Do you… wish for me to repeat myself?” She whispered, looking at the slightly panting Neuvillette with worry. But at your nod she sighed, realizing why you did this.
And if her Otter wanted something, who was she to deny them that.
When she parted her lips you leapt from the bed, and walked out of the room to give them privacy. You could tell she hesitated at your lack of presence, but hearing her start to speak after you closed the door, you wagged your little tail in relief.
Staring towards the kitchen, you planned on getting them both nice tall glasses of water.
And by the time you got back and managed to open the door, you were met with Neuvillette holding the girl close and shushing her, a light patter of rain outside.
“Of course we’re grateful. I’m grateful. I am so sorry my Lady that I had neglected you. I will say it until the stars and the moon itself command me to stop that you are appreciated. That I care. And though I cannot speak for her fully I can say that my Ar- … Foçalors did care for you. And she loved you. I love you. I care for you. I will never understand the trials of being human and I know that what she did is irreversible, but I do want to be there.” He continued to speak to the crying child in his arms, neither noticing you walking in while dragging the glasses of water in.
Making a small noise, the Sovereign looked down and smiled at you, though you could see the tears in his eyes. He picked you up then the glasses, handing one to Furina who was still clutching your plushy.
“And I can also say that our darling here loves you and cares.” Neuvillette mused, running a hand quickly through your fur.
You chuffed in response and licked the girls face causing a giggle to escape her throat.
Here she was wanted. Here she was needed. Here she was loved.
And you were going to do your damndest to make sure it stays that way.
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໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : Wanna hug her and hold her and give her kisses on the cheek and UGH- My baby໒꒰ྀི ╥﹏╥ ꒱ྀིა
I personally think she’s like… a teen. She looks like a teen. So imagine being in a mental state of an adult with the emotional state of a child and being forced to watch everyone you know and love die. I couldn’t do it she is so strong but I STILL WANNA HOLD HER MY BABY!!! ૮꒰ ˶꒦ິ꒳꒦ິ˶꒱ა
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prisi · 9 months
Text
I feel TOH fails a lot with the treatment that Belos and his lore receive towards the end. I think his arc will feel so much more complete if the show was allowed to show us that he suffered in the past and wasn't like "nah he is just pure evil and he has always been like that". I don't like how the show wants you to believe that Caleb did nothing wrong or reprehensible when there's obvious implications that he abandoned Philip to go with Evelyn, it will be so much more interesting that the show recognized that Caleb was naive and selfish in abandoning his brother (who only have him as family and support figure) to his own in the puritan era, and how that action of Caleb deeply damaged Philip emotionally and mentally (kinda like Luz abandoning Camila to live her fantasy in the Boiling Isles without thinking in the consequences (I'm still pissed that she didn't apologize to her mom for running away at the end) but we are not talking about that right now, I love Luz btw don't get mad at me). And Philip, who probably entered the Isles with the sole intention to "save" his brother who at his eyes was bewitched and seduced by an evil witch to go with her, when he finally found his brother after many years and found out that Caleb actually loved Evelyn and DECIDED to leave him behind he totally lost his mind.
A confrontation escene between Philip and Caleb (it could be a flashback or something showed in Hollow Mind even) will be so interesting to watch, something like in the third season of Infinity Train when Simon confronts The Cat for abandoning him as a child, Caleb will try to justify himself at first saying that he is sorry, that he thought Philip was going to be okay on his own, that he didn't thought that he was going to miss him or something, making Philip more angry, sad and confused.
The situation will scale to the point that Philip, (who's original goal was to kill Evelyn to bring back Caleb in the Human Realm) now that he is angry, sad and out of his senses he tries to attack Caleb with the dagger he had in his hand which triggers the knife fight in which Caleb dies.
Philip, after realizing that he killed the only person he had in the world, he tries to justify himself in an internal monologue like: "oh well, I murdered you, but in doing so I freed your soul from the union with that sinful witch. That's what the witch hunting taught me, right? That's what YOU taught me, RIGHT?". Trying to shift the blame for what just happened onto Caleb but also letting us know and acknowledging that it was Caleb who introduced and instructed Philip in the witch hunt and did nothing to reverse it.
Coming to the end, when the fight ends and Belos and Luz are face to face, the scene would play out more or less as we see it in canon but at the moment in which the first drop of boiling rain falls on his hand and begins to see his body dissolve, he enters a mental breakdown in which he realizes that he wasted his entire life on a goal that made no sense, the witches weren't evil or a threat and he knew it, but he clung to his goal because he did not want to face the reality, he did not want to accept that he had killed his brother in vain nor did he want to accept that he had decided to abandon him, and he did not want to die knowing that he wasted 400 years suffering for something that was not worth it. At the end of his collapse he would crawl a little and see Hunter in the distance (because yes, Hunter should have been present in the end even a little), he would try to extend his hand in his direction but Hunter, noticing this, would close his eyes, look away and take a step back behind Eda and Raine. Philip experienced his brother's abandonment again but with the difference that this time it is merely his fault, because even if Caleb damaged Philip deeply with his abandonment, he is not responsable of the path Philip choosed to take.
Seeing and realizing all of this Belos would stop crawling and give up, lying on the ground, breathing hard as the boiling rain finally dissolves him and dies.
Or at least that is how I liked it to happen, let me know what you think.
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lukedanger · 3 months
Text
Replaying WotR with all the DLC, I forgot how full of shit Regill is about the rest of the Crusades.
What prompted this is his nonsense about Irabeth. He acts as if she had no achievements to her name so he can pretend that she's unqualified when she has a PTSD breakdown before Drezen - as if she had not gone through Kenabres, or hadn't rebuilt the Eagle Watch from scratch to the point where it's one of the most competent forces (more competent than the Hellknights, TBH: at least the Eagle Watch doesn't have to threaten every soldier with execution for the slightest infraction)
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I mean look at it - 'her first serious challenge'? Is Hellknight intelligence so incompetent that you don't even know her career before returning to Mendev? Did you forget that she and Anevia rebuilt the Eagle Watch from scratch after uncovering Baphomet's infiltration? Or do you not know that Kenabres survived because Irabeth managed to weld together a cohesive fighting force at the Defender's Heart and that the plan to take back the Grey Garrison was entirely hers?
Irabeth is no wet-behind-the-ears recruit thrown into high command without being tested: she's a veteran commander who's been fighting the Worldwound longer than anyone in the tent besides Anevia and Queen Galfrey (whom the narrative also maligns, I'll get to that in a minute). Irabeth has been fighting for high stakes: Mendev dies if they fail. If the Hellknights' token expeditions die? They lose some lances, but none of their core territories are threatened and they can easily shrug it off because the Crusades are basically Avistan's dumping ground for undesirables anyways.
This is a perfect example of the sheer arrogance of the Hellknights. Especially since Regill admits that just a glimpse of what happens in the Lost Chapel is almost enough to make him puke. Irabeth lived it and watched good people die in a horrible manner and be transformed into monsters against their will.
Irabeth isn't a coward. She's dealing with unrecognzied PTSD given how fast the march on Drezen usually occurs after Lost Chapel, and it picked the absolute worst moment to manifest... especially if the KC is an incompetent leader who constantly berates her and makes her a scapegoat for other people's failures.
It's not like Irabeth is asking to be dismissed - if you warn her that you'll bench her, she's terrified of being left behind to be the one who gets to mourn everyone that dies. She's still in the fight, she's just conscious that the odds are against them after how badly the gargoyle ambush went.
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Galfrey, as an aside, acts as a leader should: she works to reassure Irabeth and console her. Galfrey has suffered immensely under the pressure of defending Golarion from the Worldwound with basically no support (Avistan's nations more or less uses the Crusades as a way to dispose of undesirables) - she knows what Irabeth is feeling. And the narrative did Galfrey so dirty by not giving her more moments like this - Galfrey's presence should have been an auto-success for reassuring Irabeth even if the KC still got to do a reassurance option even if only to give Irabeth an extra and much-needed verbal hug.
It's telling how much the narrative had to bend over backwards to make the Hellknights seem competent rather than a bunch of arrogant pricks who are trying to take credit for holding back the Worldwound while offering little actually useful. I think the most useful thing they do in Act II is give you another option to get at the giants at Drezen, everything else is them either being counterproductive, needing the crusaders they sneer at to save their asses, or volunteering to be vescavor fodder because their egos wouldn't let them stay behind while those best equipped to tackle the threat deal with it... and get the credit.
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