#he’s rather die than be without her but I don’t think he can consciously do it himself cause well she gave up so much just to get him back

[movedtodykedvonte]

The idea that GolBetty is all seeing and inter dimensional and keeping Simon from becoming Ice King again is so *chefs kiss*

It hurts them both: Betty having to watch Simon trying to ruin himself again so he doesn’t have to deal with all the complex feeling of being without her. Simon having the guilt of preferring madness to his mundanity even though she sacrificed her complete humanity for him.

It’s a story of star crossed lovers trapped within Ouroboros and it’s beautifully eternal.

[xoxomoonlightxoxo]

Don't Get Attached | Drabble Series

"We're still on break, got it?"

“Y/n?” a female voice is muffled by the sound of the music outside. Fixing my curls, I tighten the strap of my two-piece before turning to Yoona, the host of the nightclub I’m currently working at. Very odd pairing, I know, I’m still not sure how I got the job, but it’s quick money, right? It’s only been a few weeks since I started, but I still cringe over the idea of satisfying the male gaze, so, I try to numb that part of my consciousness at work. As far as I’m concerned, this is temporary, just until I can pay off my mom’s hospital bills. She was diagnosed with Diabetes a month ago and had to be hospitalized for treatment, which unfortunately, as with everything in this capitalistic world was not free. 

Cut scene to the present time, I’ve learned to somewhat navigate this nightlife business, learning a few tips and tricks from the other girls, who are way older than me but are also struggling financially. I guess we are all just trauma-bonded in the end. To be quite frank, money wasn’t the only thing that fueled this decision of mine. Today also marks a month since Jungkook and I decided to take a break from our relationship. Nothing really happened aside from the fact that I was stood up and caught him with another girl, the usual plot, right? Anyway, I think this job came to me as a source of distraction, dissociating myself from reality until the thoughts in my head outscream the DJ at the front. Why didn’t we just break up, altogether? Fair question. Well, based on Jungkook’s words, he was meant to “change” over this period of separation and supposedly “can’t bear to lose me”, or something like that.  We’ll see, he’ll either be my everything or yet another lesson. 

“Someone is here for you. They’ve booked out a VIP room?” Yoona sounds and looks unsure, resting her head on the door frame before letting out a deep sigh. 

“Who? Is it Mark? I told the security not to let him in anymore,” I say almost irritated by the mere thought of that man. Ugh, he was the epitome of a manchild, always whining and demanding everything to go his way. I’m sorry, but my dignity will not be negotiated over money. I would rather die poor than have someone walk all over me because they can. 

“I’m not sure, I’m sorry. It’s so busy out there, you know with Valentine's Day and all,” she sighs, rubbing her temples. Oh, right. It’s also my first Valentine's without Jungkook in about two years. Just more fuel to the fire, I guess. 

“That’s okay Yoona, thanks for letting me know,” I reassure her with a soft smile, taking a deep breath before heading out. She wasn’t lying, the club is full to the brim. Every corner is occupied by a man with a stack of dollar bills in his hands, surrounded by bottles of champagne and naked bodies. 

Knock Knock Knock 

“Hello … what? What are you doing here, Jeon?” I almost yelp, jumping from the sight of his rested form on the velvet couch. Those naked bodies that I mentioned before, well, turns out I wasn’t an exception, covered in nothing but a lacey two-piece bedazzled with fake rhinestones. So, you could imagine the panic in my eyes, as I tried to pathetically hide behind a nearby curtain. Technically, it’s nothing he hasn’t seen already, but now it’s different. 

“I don’t know, what do people usually come here to do?” Jungkook grins, stretching his body before resting his head on his tattooed hand. 

“How did you find me?” I snap, still behind the curtain, too ashamed to come out. 

“Does it really matter if I’m already here?” there is a distinct hint of lure in his tone as his eyes focus on my furrowed expression. 

“Stop playing. I told you we needed a break,” I snap again, only this time with my body fully exposed to his visual field. Crossing my arms over my chest, I walk towards him, determined to prove that I in fact am not flustered by his presence. 

“I am on a break … and it’s pretty relaxing so far if I say so myself,” Jungkook grins, eyeing me up and down before leaning his arms on his knees, moving in closer. 

“Well, I’m not dancing for you if that’s what you want,” I scoff, rolling my eyes at his teasing sense of humour. 

“That’s okay, I don’t want you to dance,” he reassures with a soft smile, except nothing about him or this situation is soft. Suffocating at best. 

“Then what exactly do you want?” 

“Sit on my lap, y/n, and we’ll see what happens next,” he says hushedly, hooded gaze looking up at my scattering eyes as his hands trace up my thighs. 

“Fuck off Jungkook,” I try to walk away until his grasp on my arm tightens, pulling me back onto his lap. Now, inches away from each other, there is virtually no air to breathe. 

“Careful love, you know I only ask nicely once,” he whispers into my ear, softly nibbling on the skin before looking back at my flushed face.  

“Let me go, Koo,” I insist with my gaze still lowered as I try to push myself out of his grip. 

“Mhmm … Koo. I missed your voice. Say it again, y/n,” Jungkook pleads softly, leaning his head closer to meet my eyes. “Please?” he adds, caressing my red cheek with the back of his hand. Feeling my chest heave up, it’s hard to breathe. Unable to break out of his possession, there isn’t much I can do but give in to his desires. 

“Koo?” I say softly, innocent eyes looking up at his darkened orbs as his fingertips traced my lips.  

“Good girl, aren’t you?” he grins with a sly wink, before nuzzling his face into my neck, hugging my form tighter than before. Feeling his hot breath on my skin, I can’t help but succumb to the adrenaline and panic running through my veins. 

“I have to go,” I stutter abruptly, moving his face up to mine. Searching his eyes, there is an evident sense of emptiness behind them. Sadness even. 

“Please stay, y/n. You must be tired, let me take care of you,” he pleads into my palms, placing a soft kiss on the tip of my index finger which was covered by a bandaid. And, although I knew I would regret it later, I stayed. 

“Okay,” I whisper, straddling his thighs as my legs go numb at this point. Nibbling on my lips, I watched as he pulled out a black ribbon out of his jean jacket. 

“May I?” he asks innocently. 

“Oh, do I have a choice?” I chuckle at the way that innocent smile of his quickly turned into a sly grin. Tucking a few curls behind my ear, Jungkook leans closer before tying the ribbon over my eyes, gentle with his touch. Giving up yet another sense to his possession, I feel the panic rush in again. 

“Wait!” I snap abruptly, gripping his arms. “Whatever you do … this doesn’t mean anything. We’re still on a break, got it?” I try to convince both of us, before finally giving in. 

“Of course, whatever you say y/n,” Jungkook whispers into a needy kiss, nibbling on my bottom lip as his hands unclasp the bedazzled bra. Feeling his kisses go down to my neck, purple hues of desire begin to mark my skin. One thing is for sure, our lust for each other has been desperately fueling the whole of that break. And, as I hesitate to touch him, Jungkook senses my tension before placing my hands on his exposed chest, gliding them up and down his defined abs. 

“It’s still all yours, baby,” he whispers into my ear, laying me down on the velvet couch. Alarmed by the cracking sound in the background, my chest heaves up in suspense before a cold sensation hits my consciousness. Gliding an ice cube down my stomach, Jungkook’s hooded eyes watch in satisfaction as my back arches from the feeling. Licking the trail of melting water, he sucks on the soft skin, leaving a few love bites behind that turn me into a whimpering mess. 

“Koo,” I whine, reaching out to feel his arms. That is until a yelp escapes my parted lips as he glides the melting ice cube under my panties, which are already wet. With my chest heaving up, there was no time to even protest as his grip on my thighs tightened, moving me closer to him. 

“I’ll warm you up, baby,” Jungkook reassures with a raspy tone, helping me take off the lacey fabric before putting it in his pocket. Leaving a trail of kisses up my thighs, he stopped by my throbbing core which was now hot and cold at the same time. 

“Hi, gorgeous,” he grins.

Don't Get Attached Masterlist

[daddyy333]

“Please come back to me” | Lo’ak x human!y/n

if you’d like you can reblog my original work, but please don’t post it without credit. if you take inspiration from my ideas please tag me, I’d like to see how someone else would write it

word count: 2.1k

warnings: sort of mentions death, implied death of reader, Lo’ak is scared to lose reader, ?

summary: Lo’ak does not want y/n to transfer her consciousness because he doesn’t want to risk losing you

anything in bold like this in the middle of a sentence means it’s either Na’vi or meant to be in Na’vi but I don’t trust the translation websites so I just use the few words I know and make do with it💀

“Baby! Baby!” You say, running through the forest to find him. He smiles as he sees you, adorable and tiny as hell as your small legs run with speed to get to him. You looked so beautiful, your freshly braided hair blowing in the wind and the woven dress Neytiri made for you accentuating your curves even more.

Once you got caught up to him he quickly scooped you up and pressed a kiss to your cheek. You giggled and he said “what’s got you so happy today, my little love?” “My avatar is ready. I’m gonna test it out in a few hours, Lo’ak, are you ready? I’m gonna be just as tall as you, you won’t have to carry me anymore!” You said and his eyes widened, chuckling a little.

He kept moving as he said “that’s amazing, sweetheart, I’m happy for you” He was, truly. It’s just that he knows what’s coming and he knows it’s coming so much sooner now. Having an avatar is fine, but he knows you prayed to Eywa every night when you were younger begging her to make a Na’vi instead of a stupid tawtute. One day, very very soon, you were going to want to transfer your consciousness to your avatar body.

He was terrified for that day to come. He was worried that even after your deep connection with the great mother despite your lack of a kuru still wouldn’t be enough and you would not pass through the eye of Eywa. Mo’at had told you and him numerous times that was unlikely, but he didn’t believe it. He would rather die than even think about doing something that might take you away from him.

When you entered your avatar body for the first time he was busy hunting and Kiri, Mo’at and Neytiri guided you instead. He hadn’t seen your avatar body at all that day, or even the days after that. It was like he was avoiding you. It made you feel a little insecure, you’d been so excited about this and you thought Lo’ak would be too.

Less than a week later your ceremony came. You knew the ways of the people since you were just a baby, you only had to get used to using your avatar body. Once you were Na’vi, you’d be able to connect with the great mother, complete your iknimaya, and become a woman in the eyes of the clan, and mate with Lo’ak. Everything you’ve ever wanted.

“Lo’ak! Are you going to bring the avatar to the tree of souls for me?” You said, a bright smile on your face as your little legs tried to keep up with him. He sighed and said “um…I thought you were gonna have my mother do it”

You and Neteyam were so close as he was the one that originally found you. You were only a couple months old, your mom had just died and your dad had already died before you were born. The scientists at the lab must’ve gotten tired of you crying, at least that’s what you thought because they had kind of just thrown you out in the forest. You crawled around for a while, eventually crying your ass off for probably days until Neteyam found you.

Neteyam has since told you you were really skinny, and he could tell you just missed your mom. He brought you to his mom and dad and refused to let them do anything but let him take care of you. Of course Neytiri and Jake did a lot of work, but Neteyam took you everywhere.

He would take you with him while hunting, training, cooking, anything. He made a baby wrap so he could still have you with him while you slept and spent so long caring for you. You’d sleep cuddled up with Neytiri a lot, even though Neteyam took care of you. He says it’s because you saw her like another mother.

If it weren’t for him, you might not even be here. So it was kind of assumed that Neteyam would carry you to the tree of souls to transfer your body. Lo’ak was relieved, he didn’t know if he could do it. He almost wished he didn’t have to be there. It's like giving away your soul to the great mother himself.

“Well…I mean your mother is very important in my life but so are you. You’re going to be the father of my children one day” you said and he blushed at that. He chuckled and said “no, you’ll change your mind” he replied, he always insisted you didn’t actually love him and just didn’t know how to say no.

“So…are you?” “I um…I don’t know if I can” he said and you furrowed your little eyebrows. God you were so cute. He sighed and said “I don- I-I don’t even want to be there if I'm being honest. I don’t want to give your soul away to the great mother, y/n” “What? Lo’ak, I thought you said you were okay with it. You gave me your blessing!” You said and shook your head.

You started to get anxious now, did he really think you weren’t worthy? That you would pass through the eye of Eywa. “I just want you to be happy. But I’m scared, oeyä ‘eve. You’re everything to me, I can’t lose you” he said and tears filled your eyes.

You sighed and said “I am not worthy? Do you really think that?” “No, no it’s not that- I shouldn’t have said anything. Just, go get ready. The sun's starting to set” he said and you scoffed. He walked off you and you shook your head.

You didn’t go get ready, instead you hid in your hut which you rarely used because you slept at the Sully home so often. No one would think to look there for a while. You looked in your mirror that you had and more tears filled your eyes. Lo’ak was right. How could the great mother willingly accept a disgusting vrrtep?

Your chin trembled, you knew things were too good to be true. Did Lo’ak think less of you because you were human? Was he beginning to not love you? He promised he always would. Maybe that is why he didn’t see you yet. You were too different.

“Baby! We’ve been looking all over for you” he said as he came into your hut, crouching down next to you. You shook your head and said “it doesn’t matter. I don’t want to do it anymore” “what? Why? Is it because of earlier? Y/n-”

“No, you were right! I am not worthy. The great mother would never accept me, I’ll never be more than a vrrtep. I’m not good enough, not for the great mother and certainly not for you” you said, refusing to look at him.

He rubbed your back and said “baby, that’s not what I meant. I just…I’m just so scared. The great mother is ready to welcome you as one of her children, everyone knows that. But god, I’m so terrified to lose you. It’s my worst fear, baby. If I lost you I- Eywa, I don’t know what I’d do”

“But what if you’re right?” You said, finally looking up at him. He sighed and said “I guess we’ll just have to find out. Please…don’t let me ruin this for you. I’m so sorry, I should’ve been nicer. This should’ve been so exciting, and I ruined it”

You shook your head and said “it’s- it’s fine. I’ll go” “if you’re not ready anymore we can wait” he said and you stood up, walking away. The feast was already prepped and the whole clan was anticipating this. You couldn’t let them down.

Lo’ak came in and smiled at you, as beautiful as the day he truly fell in love with you. You smiled at him just barely. He caressed your hair and said “are you ready? I’m going to take you. Neteyam will bring the avatar”

“Lo’ak-” “shh! I want to. Come,” he said, bending down. You walked over, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He scooped you up and noticed you were shaking, something you did when you were…damn it he couldn’t remember the word. Started with an a maybe?

“Y/n…you know you’re gonna be fine right?” He said and you shook your head. He let out a shaky breath, he felt terrible for scaring you and he was trying to convince himself you’d be fine but he couldn’t.

He whispered a prayer over you as he walked, making you shake less. “You’re going to be just fine,” he said, gently setting you down. You looked up at him, reaching up to touch his face one last time. He caught your hand and kissed it, holding it tight.

Tears filled his eyes as he gently lifted off the mask and kissed you gently, but longingly. “Please come back to me,” he whispered, resting his forehead against yours as he stopped kissing you. He whimpered and you smiled slightly. “I-I promise. I I-I swe-ear” you said, struggling to breathe.

He smiled, kissing your cheek gently before he stood next to his mother, father, brother and grandmother. “You don’t come back and we kill you, girl” Neytiri said, a sad smile on her face as she cried.

She felt like she was giving up her child to the great mother, she was so scared. She didn’t feel this way with Jake, she convinced herself the great mother wouldn’t dare take him away from her and well, she was right. But would the great mother bless her so greatly twice in one lifetime?

You closed your eyes, your heart rate slowing and beginning the ritual. You relaxed, trusting that whatever happened was meant to be in your last moments in the human body. Lo’ak was shaking with fear, every prayer he called to the great mother wobbly and choked out. He was begging her, begging her to give you back to him. He made countless promises to the great mother, intending to fulfill every single one should his prayers be answered.

Mo’at called for everyone to stop and many of the clan members' ears perked up, tails swaying nervously as they watched. Lo’ak whimpered, running over to your avatar body as he called a prayer over you once more.

“Y/n…don’t…don’t do this. You promised me. You said you’d come back,” he said weakly, his entire body shaking. Mo’at bent down, whispering a prayer as her hands ghosted over your bodies.

“Just…wait,” she said, singing a prayer by herself. Lo’ak cupped your cheeks, sighing softly, giving up on hope. Just then, you opened your eyes and took a deep breath.

The clan gasped with joy, all whooping and yipping as they all cheered for you. Lo’ak’s body racked with sobs, Mo’at began to cry too. Neytiri and Jake ran over to you, hugging you tight as you sat up.

“Oh, sweet child. Thank you great mother, thank you!” She cried, the biggest smile on her face. You chuckled, looking up at Lo’ak. The truth was, he hasn’t looked into your avatar’s eyes not one time.

“Oel ngati kameie” he said, shocking you and himself. You blushed and tears spilled from both of your eyes rapidly. “Oel ngati kameie, sayríp”

Neteyam ran over and hugged you tightly. You looked around at the clan, looking behind you at your human body. You then looked up at Lo’ak with tears in your eyes as you whispered “I told you I’d come back” he scooped you up in his arms, standing up and shouting out at the clan.

He was so happy you came back to him. He should’ve known you would, your soul too pure for Eywa to withhold from the clan. He set you down and almost blushed when, despite being several feet taller than before, you still had to look up at him.

You threw your fist up, howling with the clan. You jumped down, hugging the children and the elders who also raised you your entire life. You’d never felt so loved. You felt like you belonged.

Kiri shoved him as she said “of course his skxawng ass scared her into thinking she wouldn’t come back” Neteyam laughed and so did Jake and Neytiri. Lo’ak shook his head and said “shut up! You wouldn’t get it cause nobody wants to mate with you” “Lo’ak! Be nice” Mo’at said and Kiri giggled.

Taglist: @laylasbunbunny @goddesslilithmoriarty

As of now l'm writing for

Eddie Munson

Lo’ak

Neteyam

Sebastian Stan

Bucky Barnes

CW!Bucky Barnes

Chris Evans

Geralt of Rivia

Henry Cavill

Chris Sturniolo

So just comment the taglist you want to be added to and l'll add you :)

[miracles-and-butterflies]

Jeez... How are they going to get Mirabel conscious enough to eat? What Julieta herself thinks about this prank? And what will be Mirabel's reaction on what happened when she has stop bleeding out?

Spoiler alert - they aren’t.

Warning, potentially sensitive topics below.

~~~~~~

A few minutes had passed and Mirabel was still showing no signs of much consciousness.

“Can we… I don’t know, force feed her?” Isabela asked at length.

“No, she needs to take it herself. Force feeding could result in choking and, well, she would die.” Julieta said, grimly.

Isabela glanced away.

“Come on, sis,” she tried. “You didn’t tell us what happened to Marie Annette.”

“It’s Marie Antoinette.” Luisa corrected with a huff. “And let’s not talk about death right now.”

“What do you mean?”

“What— she died, Bela. Everyone died. It’s the French Revolution - even I know it was all just head chopping.”

“How was I suppose to know that?” Isabela remarked.

Agustín cleared his throat, “We are getting off topic now and… Julieta? What do you think we should do?”

With not much option and time being crucial, Julieta decided that they would fix the injury the proper medical way. They needed to stop the bleeding that was the priority.

Mirabel, not that she was conscious, remained very still and quiet in Luisa’s arms (she had refused to separate herself from Mirabel). Sitting through the process like an obedient, little bird getting its wing fixed.

“How… how did this happen?” Julieta asked. She focused her gaze on Luisa, assuming she would know. “Did she tell you?”

“Camilo.” Her daughter snarled.

“Camilo? ..Our Camilo?”

“And some of his friends,” Isabela piped up.

Isabela recounted the events for their mother - Luisa struggling to talk, her emotions bubbling to the surface and she didn’t want much to distract her from Mirabel.

Julieta had to fight to keep herself focused on the task at hand.

She knew Mirabel and Camilo had never been close - they were opposites, more so than Isabela and Dolores had been. To the point where they couldn’t remotely understand one another. She remembers when she and Pepa tried to force the two to play together.

And Camilo would be so eager to have a friend (whilst his sisters and older cousins were at school). And Mirabel looked like she’d rather be doing anything else. Clinging to Julieta’s apron and weeping or hiding off in a corner.

She and Pepa stopped forcing them together just before Camilo started school, where he made tons of friends and quickly replaced Mirabel. Mirabel herself was more interested in alone time and didn’t care, moving on quickly. Mirabel had always been so independent like that.

When had this clash of personalities become such a mess?

Mirabel made a soft noise, wincing.

Julieta looked back at the girl.

Nothing happened for a moment. Julieta’s hands fluttered over, wanting to hold Mirabel, but knowing Luisa definitely wasn’t letting go.

“Mirabel?” She tried. “Are you with us, mi amor?”

Her youngest blinked her eyes open. The amount of red in her vision panicked her breathing, and she whimpered in pain. Trying to turn back against Luisa’s chest and sleep.

“No, Mirabel. I need you to face me, so I can finish with your leg.” Mirabel doesn’t move herself, so Luisa shifts her back around. Agustín leans over to hold her right leg still. It’s going to be a lot harder with Mirabel conscious now. “We need you to stay awake for a bit.”

This time Mirabel gave an answer. “I can’t…”

“Yes, you can.” She said gently. “I’m almost done. Just try not to look at it, okay?”

Mirabel shook her head. She stopped a second later, pressing a hand against her forehead. Clearly still a bit lightheaded and dizzy.

“It hurts,” she said.

“We know, Miraboo. Hang in there.” Agustín assured.

Isabela couldn’t really stand anywhere in Mirabel’s line of vision without being in the way or forcing Mirabel to change direction and look at the gore.

So she was left behind the girl, returning to her role of distracter.

“So why don’t you finish telling us about Louis and Marie? Did they manage to escape from… wherever it was.. they were?”

“I don’t want to talk about the failed ‘Flight to Varennes’ right now, Isa.”

Isabela clicked her tongue.

Shit must be bad if Mirabel has decided she doesn’t want to talk about history.

She shrugged at their parents. “Well, that was my big gun. She’s just gonna feel this.”

[wubblesred]

Ghoulcy week 2024 Day 6 SFW

Hello vaulties, back with the ghoulcy week. Day 6 prompt is in sickness and in health. It is also a bit linked to the previous days prompts. Hope you will enjoy it. English is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes. This will also be post in French.

Cooper Howard had lost his entire family over two centuries ago, and he said to himself that day that it was the most horrible thing he had ever experienced and that nothing could beat it. However, seeing Lucy still pale despite the RadAway that was slowly flowing through her veins, he felt the same sensation as when he first woke up as a ghoul without knowing where Janey had gone. The latter was angry, he had dragged her in places where most of the population present were ghouls, he was not afraid of radiation so he did not pay attention to the radiation rate of the surroundings, his little killer was so strong that he had forgotten that she was only human. It was when he woke up to see Lucy so amorphous and her PipBoy in alert mode that he realized the problem, the radiation in his wife’s body was too high. Apparently a dose of RadAway was not enough, at this point the young woman probably needed a hospital to survive. Or something else... Something Cooper would rather not think about.

"Coop... Coop find Janey without me... Go ahead.» Lucy’s voice was weak and trembling, each sound seemed to give her intense pain which intensified the guilt her husband felt.

“No way. You thought I was the kind of husband who abandoned his wife on the first blow. I married you, I love you, and I refuse to let you die like a dog.”

“The RadAway doesn’t work...I don’t even know if I’m gonna make it....”

"The damn vaults they have doctors, don’t they? Your junk there, it can tell us where there is a nearby vault?" Throughout his speech his wife shook her head, she knew the deep and justified disgust he had for the places where she had grown up, she refused to impose this on him.

“They will never accept a ghoul.” Only one vault would surely accept the ghouls but she was afraid they would refuse her after the last time. They could probably treat her, but will they arrive in time.

The ghoul saw the face of his companion change, he understood that she had a place in mind but that she would refuse to speak, however the man was ready for everything, no matter the sacrifices. All that mattered at that moment was getting his wife back on her feet. So he began to blackmail her, if she didn’t disclose the information she had that could potentially save her life, he would kill himself right here right now. It didn’t take more for Lucy to talk about Vault 4 and its location, she put the route on her PipBoy and in less than no time, the man took her in his arms to begin their journey. Luckily, the place was only a few kilometers away, they would arrive before the end of the day and the ghoul hoped so, in time to save his wife.

Lucy kept collapsing along the way, wavering between a short period of consciousness and a long period of sleep. Her husband was more and more worried about her condition, if that damn vault 4 didn’t save her, he’d do a massacre before ending himself. Nothing mattered more than his wife and daughter, unfortunately not knowing if she was alive or not, the man does not think he can hold out without the support of his Lucy. He was even ready to set foot in this horrid vault 4, the one in which he had filmed one of the many Vault-Tec ads. But he didn’t care as long as his wife lived, he would even make peace with Henry if that was what she wanted.

Night began to fall when he finally saw it, vault 4 was there before his eyes. Although fatigue was greatly felt, as Lucy’s condition worsened, the ghoul ran toward the door. He saw an intercom on which he threw himself, pressing all the buttons until receiving an answer.

"Hello, what can we do for you, dear sir?" Were the words he heard through the crackling of the device.

“My wife...my wife is seriously ill, please save her.”

"Your... wife?"

"Yes! I know that I am completely eaten up by radiation, but that does not prevent me from saying that she is my wife and that we do not have the whole evening! She’s a damn vault dweller like you, so do me the pleasure of moving your ass to pick her up and take care of her, or I swear I will find a way to open your damn door and beat you up one after the other.”

Shit... It had surely gone too far and they would never come to open the door to them but Cooper was desperate, Lucy became paler and her breathing more laborious. Not to mention the damn thing that kept bleeping away. He was cut off in his thoughts by the opening of the huge door, several vault dwellers came out and advanced towards them, they all wore a white jumpsuit, surely to protect themselves from the disease that the woman could have. They took Lucy from his arms, the ghoul did not know if he could follow them but on the other hand he refused to leave his little killer, they had promised to always be there for each other, so screw it he would follow Lucy even to hell.

The vault dwellers had put them in a decontamination room and the doctors were treating Lucy so the ghoul didn’t care much where they were staying as long as his wife was being treated.

"She's not your wife isn't she." The voice that said that came from the brown haired woman who had been watching him for several minutes at the window.

“We don’t really have marriage certificate anymore, but she is my wife.”

“She showed up several weeks ago with another man in armor who doesn’t look like you at all. They seemed pretty close given the mess he started when he thought we were going after her so let me doubt what you said.”

“This moron wasn’t meant to be with her. He only brought her problems, moreover he liked the situation she could bring him, not who she really is. Since then she’s been traveling with me and we’re together. We’re looking for our family. You take care of her and then poof we go and it’ll be like we’ve never been here. We won’t even have to go anywhere else than this room.” Cooper was getting tired of having to justify his feelings for the young woman. Every damn person they ran into gave them a comment about their marriage. It was annoying.

“Unfortunately after she is treated, the overseer would like to question her so you will be with us for a while.”

After these words, the woman left without waiting for an answer. Cooper went to his wife, anger still present. He took her hand before sitting beside her. She regain some colors, she was off the hook and that was all that mattered to the man. Despite centuries past and the fact that he thought this part of him lost deep within himself, Lucy had been able to bring out his role as a husband that he thought he had lost forever. The young woman deserved a husband present and loving, no matter the trials and the ghoul would make it so. He laid a kiss on her forehead before laying his head next to hers to observe his beloved and wait for her awakening. Lucy was alive, she was going to be all right and he would make sure she stayed that way for a long time.

[givemeanaccountalready]

Points of Origin & Paths to Take (Part 3)

1 / 2 / 3

This ‘series’ of posts isn’t dead. I’m just dragging my feet to see what second trial verdict Amane gets (and because of life stuff). I’m already going to be guessing for Mikoto and Kotoko. I’d like for Amane’s to be more solid. She deserves it.

Content warning for brain death, death of a loved one, and suicide.

Shidou & Mahiru: the Absence of Knowledge

Which will you choose / to deceive or be the deceiver?

I don’t just want to give / both giving and receiving are good things

Personally, these two intrigue me, but they don't ensnare me the way Haruka, Yuno, and Fuuta do. They were actually the pair whose 'absence of' was determined last, because I couldn't find the right word to describe what caused both their murders. Ultimately, I decided on the absence of knowledge.

My friend (the one who introduced my feral self to this fandom) and I actually disagree on Shidou’s crime. And I’m open to any disagreements on what I’m saying, particularly this one, because the absence of knowledge being the cause is kind of weak compared to the first two installments of this series. She thinks that Shidou is a lying liar who lies similar to Kazui, and that he killed patients to feed his God complex. Personally, I think he has more of a savior complex than a God one, and that he only considers himself a killer because taking his wife off of life support made him realize what he had asked all of those families of brain-dead patients to do. Had his wife (or sons) never been injured to the point of brain death where pulling the plug became a conversation he received rather than gave, Shidou wouldn’t have come to this conclusion. As in, Shidou literally didn’t know any better and when he experienced the same situation that his patients’ families were in, the man was crushed from guilt born of his newfound empathy. This theory sprouted from what Shidou said during his second voice drama and from the glitched line from the Trial One trailer:

“Not dead… Yeah, she’s definitely not dead… I finally understand what I’ve been robbing people of…”

I think that his insistence that he’s evil comes from his desire to die (and presumably to reunite with his late family), instead of him committing malicious medical malpractice. I’ve done some poking around and brain death isn’t something that can be healed. It’s beyond a severe brain injury; it’s when all brain function permanently ceases to exist and there isn’t a chance of the person breathing on their own, much less regaining consciousness. However, brain death can be misdiagnosed, even if the physician checks the entire brain. With this information, and I think that Shidou’s dedication to the Flower Person (probably his wife) from “Throw Down” is supposed to represent his devotion to proving that his wife wasn’t brain dead without a shadow of doubt, which may (probably) not be what he did for the patients in his care. Or that he probably pushed her up the line for experimental surgeries to try and revive her. Again, probably not what he did with his patients. It's possible that once his wife either succumbed to her injuries or he did take her off life support (symbolized by the Flower Person falling apart in “Throw Down”), he then fully realized why the families of his brain-dead patients hesitated to do the same and that's when he dubbed himself a murderer. You would think, Shidou’s glitchy line from the Trial Two trailer would dissuade me from ‘local man experiences empathy for the first time’ theory versus ‘manipulative serial killer’ one, but uhhhhhh yeah, let’s look at it:

“Hurry up and die already.”

I have a separate theory that involves that the Trial One trailer are the lines spoken AFTER the prisoners realize what they have done while Trial Two comes at the point of no turning back, when the prisoners doom themselves to committing their murders. Now, if I’m right… good for me, that adds credence to my belief that not only did Shidou have shit bedside manner, but also that he wasn’t doing everything he could to save his patients once he considered them beyond the point of no return. “Hurry up and die,” could have been said to a patient that was wavering between the brain death diagnosis criteria and he’s displaying his frustration with his inability to save someone else by being a callous dick, or maybe it’s his wife that he’s talking to since she’s the one kicking off his journey to empathy, and he’s asking her to die so he doesn’t have to feel the guilt of pulling the plug.

I would love for Shidou’s third video to show what exactly he meant when he said he was doing experiments in the name of science. He’s a relatively young doctor. I don’t think the hospital was letting him reenact Frankenstein. And not to sound flippant, but I think we’re probably going to see his family die in the third video. If the pomegranate/toe tag given to the older son in “Triage” means anything, it most likely will be a failed organ transplant. Maybe that son died on the operating table during a surgery Shidou pushed for. I think that Shidou, with his newfound empathy, will never forgive himself for pulling the plug on his wife and encouraging the families of past patients to do the same. I almost want to give him a Guilty verdict for the third trial, because I don’t think he’ll even heal unless he gets the rebuke he’s searching for. A little self-flagellation for the soul…

As for Mahiru, what does loving have to do with knowledge? By her own admission, she is a sheltered girl, and it wasn’t until the second music video that we got to see her boyfriend and, more importantly, how he ‘handled’ her love. Where Shidou lacked the emotional know-how to give him perspective, Mahiru lacked the practical experience to give her perspective.

I’m split between if this was supposed to be a suicide pact and Mahiru couldn’t go through with it or Mahiru, miss ‘I’ll pick up smoking if my love smokes’, encouraged and/or enabled the self-destructive habits of her boyfriend until he killed himself. Of these two prisoners, Shidou was found innocent while Mahiru was found guilty. Shidou seemed to have a crisis until caring for Kotoko’s victims gave him purpose (he seems to need to find the meaning in things in order to understand them but can’t see past his own biases). Mahiru, on the other hand, has a crisis of faith but ultimately resolves during her second voice drama that a life without love is not worth living.

I think that through all her denial, Mahiru knows she is at fault for her boyfriend’s suicide. In “This is how to Be in Love with You,” we see snapshots focused on Mahiru and what she thought of their relationship (her perspective only). Ignoring the lyrics, her song is a bop and a half and the video is fun and happy. Looking at the lyrics reminds me of what I felt when I read the lyrics to "Pumped Up Kicks” for the first time: concern. Her idea of love isn’t healthy or sustainable, contradicting her initial insistence that it was true and right. We don’t even see her boyfriend until Day 12 or so, and it’s his hand. In “I Love You”, we see him. He doesn’t have a name, but we now have a face to her victim. It’s harder to ignore the fact that her love killed somebody because now we see the effect of it.

The lyrics of her second song definitely have more bite to them compared to her first song. I do love the bridge in “I Love You”:

“Saying I love you, but doing what I did / I know I have no right, crossed and covered in sin / My love it scored an own goal, destroyed my love and me with its weight / Tell me, oh tell me, can’t I just do it right?”

I think this is the bridge. Whatever it is, the beat is great and the lyrics hit in terms of character development. And while I’m upset that Mahiru is in a lot of emotional pain over her verdict, I do think it was necessary. Her idea of what love is needed to be challenged which is what the guilty verdict did. Being in love isn’t just something that Mahiru desires (since her love misadventure is documented in a fashion magazine of a music video in “This is How to Be in Love with You” from her POV only), but something that affects her and another person. We see her boyfriend turn from healthy to gaunt in the blink of an eye. He fed her cake, and when she thinks she is returning the favor with a bigger slice of cake, it turns out that she’s feeding him rats. She now acknowledges that the love they shared wasn’t healthy, and while it was possible that she could have come around to this idea with an Innocent verdict in Trial One, I don’t think we would have seen the flashes of her skeletal boyfriend before the carousel stopped in her second trial music video. I think we would have only gotten an image of his healthy self until the very end when their unhealthy cycle stopped for good with his suicide.

In “This is How to Be in Love with You” Mahiru is in a bird cage when she isn’t in a magazine article. We get to see her clutch the bars of her cage and then turn away (confronting the idea that she could be wrong and then dismissing it). In “I Love You” Mahiru and her boyfriend are on a carousel when they’re not traipsing through the woods or snuggling on the couch in the ruined bird cage (Guilty verdict destroyed that schema). Mahiru’s insistence that it was just normal love falls apart as her shoujo filter flickers out and we see the reality of things. Hence, the cake turned rat image burned into the audience’s mind.

First, we saw Mahiru stuck in her own ideas (the birdcage), and then we saw her deal with the reality of what she has done (the shoujo filter dies and we see the carousel stop despite the best efforts to keep them going), so I think her third trial video is going to involve her moving around a lot as she heals up from her injuries and first trial verdict. She’s not going to get stuck in a mental cage or loop. At least… I’m hoping that she gets to develop the idea that she was wrong but she can get better and heal.

Just to sum things up, Shidou and Mahiru both seemed to have learned from Trial One, although this is more obvious in Mahiru. Their videos are almost guaranteed to get more explicit (or fill in gaps) in the next trial.

Shidou’s death wish is definitely returning come Trial Three. Looking through the lyrics of “Triage”, he is only fine with an Innocent verdict because his medical skills are needed. The end of the third trial means that his work isn’t needed anymore, so he most likely is going to argue again with Es for a Guilty verdict and the death penalty. Flowers are probably going to be in his third music video because they have during the first two, and I wonder if rotten fruit will make an appearance again. Shidou does seem to comprehend the gravity of what he did when he asked his patients’ families to take them off life support. Hopefully, his video will show that. That or prove he’s an unrepentant serial killer.

As for Mahiru, I’m curious as to what imagery she’ll have. Her first music video has a magazine and bird cage imagery. The second has her with her boyfriend in the forest and the ruined bird cage living room and a carousel. I want to say, now that she’ll probably step out of the cage or get off the carousel and then walk some kind of path as she takes us through what she did to drive (or, at least help push) her boyfriend over the edge. Maybe it will have a photo album motif? She could close the ‘book’ and set it down, showing that she realizes what she has done.

4 / 5

[kadavernagh]

TIMING: Current LOCATION: Saol Eile PARTIES: Regan and Elias SUMMARY: Regan tries to scare Elias into leaving... by showing him the famous tar pit of Saol Eile. CONTENT: Parental death, child death

If Elias didn’t leave, he’d be sacrificed. If Elias didn’t leave, Regan would watch him die.

Farraige na Buanachta bubbled in front of them, hungry, always hungry. There had been a dearth of humans thrown into the tar pit recently, and the ones half-projecting from the ooze like capsized ships in the rocks were already dead, their bones bleached by the sun. Regan could feel their slow deaths wrap around her even from the edge of the tar. Elias would not be able to feel them, but seeing should be enough. He looked increasingly haunted, more life pressed out of him, every time she saw him at the clinic. Reality may have been sinking in that he was so deeply out of his element here, and that he needed to get out. They had enough privacy to discuss that here, and no one, short of her grandmother, would raise too much of a brow seeing her at the pit with a human, right? They might figure it had something to do with an upcoming sacrifice. 

Regan stared at the pit as she spoke, rather than at the expressive, human face next to her. “They place bets sometimes, you know. Of course, as banshees, we can always tell who is going to die, but not necessarily who will die first. So two humans are thrown in together, sinking at the same rate, and the others watch. Bets have to come in early, naturally, and are paid out before the death even happens. Every once in a while, one will die before they’re fully submerged. Something else will strike them down. That is considered a foul play.” Regan glanced toward Elias out of the corner of her eye, assessing for horror registering across his face. “They respect death here, they do. Banshees are not needlessly cruel. They do not go out in search of victims. But humans who decide to come here are threats, and if they are not useful in other ways, something must be done with them.” She was not enjoying this, but as long as Elias enjoyed it even less, she would persist. “It has been a while, from what I’ve heard.”

Finally, she turned to Elias, her voice rising almost imperceptibly with something she no longer recognized. “Please let me arrange for you to leave. Someone is about to die a needless, pointless death. You shouldn’t be next.”

———

It had taken much convincing on Regan’s part to get Elias to leave the upstairs clinic. After all, it wasn’t every day that you were called a human sacrifice and left for dead like that. People had warned him about the viciousness of fae. Regan had warned him. But he hadn’t listened. Instead, he chose to believe to see the good in people and look where it got him. In Ireland, with a hit on him. He wanted to keep the grip on reality they had, he wanted to believe that people were good. It was the nature versus nurture debate. Anyone is capable of horrible things, but it’s how they were raised and their own predisposition to doing bad.

He listened as she spoke of banshees placing bets on which human would die first. It didn’t sit right in his stomach. What kind of world was a world where people would sacrifice humans just for the thrill of it? “What are the sacrifices to?” He wondered, looking over to her with a distant expression. Ever since he’d reached Ireland, he’d been more emotionally distant than usual. Stuck in his own thoughts and feelings, Elias was ripped out of his own consciousness to Regan’s words. “I don’t think the banshees themselves are to blame,” he answered thoughtfully. And there was truth to his words. Despite everything, he didn’t think that it was the people at fault, but the institution in which they were raised. 

If Elias didn’t leave, he’d be sacrificed. If Elias didn’t leave, Regan would watch him die. “I don’t want to leave without you,” he said automatically, very little emotion in his voice as he turned to look at her. He’d buried his feelings down to protect himself and to keep them from Regan. She could handle his emotions, he’d learned. So he wouldn’t show them. “You know we’re not leaving without you. And if they plan on leaving before they get sacrificed, sure. But I don’t…” he trailed off, trying to find the words. “You’re meant for more than what you think you’re meant for. Sure, Banshees deal with fate. They deal in death. But that doesn’t mean that’s all you have to be. Disciplined, sure. But living here? Living like this? This doesn’t have to be. You can be so much more.” There was an earnestness in his expression as he looked at her. “Jade misses you.” He then said, deflecting his feelings onto something he knew would strike a chord.

———

Elias asking questions was a pleasant surprise. He had barely moved since planting himself in Saol Eile. On some level, he had to recognize the danger he was in. Good. And if Regan met his curiosity with warnings, maybe one of them would push him over the edge. But not the edge of the tar pit. He did not belong in there. He did seem to… misunderstand, though. Regan squashed any emotion from her voice – whatever infection that had entered her throat when she looked at him before was cured. “The ones in the pit are not sacrifices. They are intruders. You would have simply been tossed in there had I not gone along with what Brenna had expected, and a death in Farraige na Buanachta is neither quick nor pleasant.” When Regan listened, she could hear the begging and pleading of those who had been trapped. She could feel their remains bubbling just under the slick surface, out of reach (had it not been impossible to grab them, banshees would have pilfered them by now). “The sacrifices serve a different purpose. They are offering to Fate, in a way. Ag tairiscint do Chinniúint.”

“You don’t think they’re to blame for what? There is nothing to blame on anyone. There is nothing any banshee would be apologetic about.” Regan had never told anyone this so plainly, what she was about to explain to Elias. She had tried to tell the ham child (poorly, multiple times, never able to work up to the transparency needed), but like the child she was, she didn’t listen. Elias wouldn’t be able to intervene – no one would be able to intervene – but all Regan needed was for him to understand how things worked here. That would be enough. That would take root. “Banshees are not born screaming. Not more than any other neonate, anyway. It takes witnessing a death, a special death, one that kills something inside of you. The ham child is about to undergo this rite.” Her dagger-sharp eyes met Elias’s, and for just a split second, something dragged at her conscience. He looked sad, scared. The determination was flickering out of him. Good, she reminded herself for not the first time. Good. “I am meant to be exactly where I am. And your purpose, should you remain here long enough, will be to die so that a banshee can claim her birthright. Or perhaps you’ll be deemed expendable, not suitable for such an honor. Plenty of humans are.” She gestured to the black tar. “The pit awaits, in that case.”

At Jade’s name, her heart cracked like a spine. “Jade knows why I’m here and why I need to stay here. She might miss me, but… she knows. She understands duty and what the price is if I don’t get this right.” Her voice pitched up more than she would have liked, more than it should have, and that was a frustration all its own. Because it wasn’t working, she wasn’t getting it right, and what if she never did, what if the only price to pay was that of herself and there was nothing to gain for– Regan’s hand found the ring on her finger, and she kept it covered. “I have to get it right.” No, definitely not hollow enough yet. Her voice retained fluid, wet and soggy enough to be a gift from the bog back home.

———

Elias stared into the tar pit, listening as Regan continued spewing rhetoric about fate and what’s ‘right.’ What did she know what was right? What did Elias know about fate? He shuffled his feet, uncharacteristically quiet as he had been since arriving in Saol Eile. No matter what he said, Regan had made up her mind, it had seemed. No matter what he did, this would be the path that Regan had to walk down. Jade had accepted it, Jade. Of all the people that could have flown out here and talked sense into Regan, it would have been Jade. Instead, it was him, the ham child, and Wynne. The three of them didn’t stand a chance in the eyes of fate. He stared back down at the tarpit, watching the pitch as it seemed to absorb all light. 

“Fine.” He spoke, voice quiet yet determined. “If this is fate, then so be it. If you believe in fate so strongly, then so will I.” He stared right into Regan’s eyes as she looked over to him. There had never been such righteous anger in Elias’s eyes than in that moment. “If it’s fate that decides what happens to me, then I’m dying in that tar pit.” He stuffed his hands into his sweater pockets, refusing to look away from Regan and refusing to back down from this point he was desperately trying to make. “If that’s what fate has in store for me, then that’s what will happen. If you truly believe everything these people have been saying, then that’s my fate. An agonizingly slow death in a tar pit in picturesque Ireland.” 

He brushed a hand across his mouth, thinking about everything he was giving up by making this stand. He was giving up his family, his mother and father and brother, and sister, who cared about him more than life itself. He was giving up Marcus, someone he never thought he’d find in his life. He was giving up all the friends he’d made in Wicked’s Rest, something that he’d once seen as an equally foreign concept as being with someone like Marcus of all people. “If you believe and trust fate, you can’t stop what’s coming. So why try?” Elias put his hands into the air in surrender. “You have to get it right, then get it right. See me sacrificed.”

Elias felt all the rage he never let out start to bubble up beneath the surface of his mind. All the anger he felt at the entire situation and the things he never let out were about to be set free whether he wanted them to be or not. Healthy coping, who was that? Elias put his hood up and stepped back from the tar pit, glancing over at Regan once before turning away from her. “I don’t know what else to say to you, Regan. I really don’t. If you’re so stuck on this is the way things happen, then stop trying to change what’s clearly supposed to happen to me.”

———

Almost as much as Regan wished Elias would leave, she wished he would stop speaking of Fate. Neamh-roghnaithe had no right to discuss it; they were like goldfish who could not see the bowl they resided in. “Only if you’re caught. You can leave.” Regan’s eyes hardened at his, Elias’s fury and short-temper would not move her. It was only embarrassing. She took a number from her grandmother’s book, and her eyes filled with black, meeting his challenge to his own mettle. Over Elias’s shoulder, she could see wispy death rising up as bubbles in the pit. What she could not see, however, was any sort of darkness around Elias himself, any sign that he was about to die. For now. 

The pit gurgled in agreement with Elias’s sentiment, though. It would gladly take him, and Wynne, and the ham child. It would devour them and leave nothing behind, their bones glued to whatever lay at the bottom for hundreds of thousands of years. Regan frowned thinking about that, but she wasn’t going to let Elias get to her. It didn’t change the fact he didn’t know what he was talking about. “The direction of things can be changed up until it can’t be. You don’t understand. You can’t. But it’s stupid to resign yourself to being sacrificed before there’s a scream. If someone here screams for you, then you write your obituary.” She was realizing now that she had never explained to him how banshees even work, what they do, so was him being an amadán really his fault? Well, yes, but not entirely.

“Why try… I ask myself that, too. It’s why I am here.” Which from where Elias was standing (which was too close to the tar pit, actually; Regan didn’t like that) it probably sounded a lot like giving up. It was more like a trade. “I brought you over here so you could see what they do, but apparently it’s not enough to convince you.” Her wings twitched in barely concealed irritation. “What did you think would happen when you arrived here? I’d suddenly be convinced to return home with you?” Home. That wasn’t… she hadn’t meant that. “To Wicked’s Rest, I mean.” She glanced past Elias, surveying the bubbling tar. It was one of the best reminders this place held that agency was not something banshees could have. No one could. Banshees just had the honor of knowing it.

Eight years ago, Regan had almost launched herself into the tar pit to pull out one of the humans. He was a little boy, maybe twelve years old, who happened to wander into the wrong place at the wrong time; he had done nothing to attract the ire of banshees other than follow the sound of someone’s scream and learn too much. And who would believe a little boy about fairies? What threat could he have been? But that wasn’t up to Regan. The tar took him quicker than most. He was in there up to his chest, his arms up in the air like he was on a rollercoaster – a much more fitting place for a twelve year old boy – and Regan struggled to look at him. When she finally screamed for the kid, it had been a relief.

But before then, she jumped. Her grandmother had yanked her by the wings, which probably saved her life. And yet, she nearly jumped a second time, a third. It took months before she stopped attempting to help the slowly-sinking human lives. The tar would take them every time. The banshees would scream every time. Her grandmother would tell her, every time, that she was powerless to stop it. The tar would only take her, too, she said, while admitting such a death would be suitable for someone who refused to stop being a leanbh – frozen in time for centuries. 

Farraige na Buanachta was where Regan had learned to hold back a scream. Some part of her thought that if she didn’t scream, the humans might live. Or if she didn’t scream, she would at least be sparing herself seeing their deaths. But her grandmother never allowed that. Time after time, Regan was ushered back to the pit to watch someone’s mouth and nose sink beneath the oily tar, suffocating them within minutes. And time and time again, Regan tried to save them. It was at the top of her grandmother’s long list of ways Regan had disappointed her, how long it took her ridiculous, too-human granddaughter, the doctor who knew nothing, to stop trying. 

It was the harshest lesson Regan had learned here: there is no changing the will of Fate.

“I’ve–” Her voice was gravelly, completely unlike the tone she’d been battering Elias with since he’d arrived. “I’ve seen so many die here, because they didn’t get out when they could.” She watched the backside of Elias’s hood grow smaller and smaller as he took off in the direction of the clinic, and the pit swallowed up her words before they left her mouth. “Please.” That was all she could manage – too much a failure to seal her mouth shut and too much a corpse to say what really needed to be said – and while she was sure Elias could not hear her, the way biting, gnawing bugs swarmed across her skin felt almost like someone else had.

[maoam]

WHY HINATA IS NOT A GOOD CHARACTER

INTRODUCTION

I wanted to take a deeper look at Hinata’s character, considering there are a lot of claims about her out there, that she’s strong, that she’s kind, that she’s complex and relatable, that she’s the perfect woman and that she’s at least better than Sakura. I don’t really think so, and I’ll explain why. I’ll be focusing on canon, so no fillers or novels will be included in this post. I’ll say this as a warning, if you’re a fan of her character this probably won’t be something you’ll like. This will be tagged with the anti tags and put under read more so please do not complain if tumblr somehow puts this in the normal tags, it is not intentional. Also Sakura stans please don’t write lengthy comments about Sakura under this, I’m not a fan of her either and I’ll write about her later. Make your own post instead.

”HINATA IS STRONG AND THE BEST KUNOICHI”

Hinata is generally really bad as a shinobi and I’m not sure where the claims that she is strong come from. Hinata's entire character revolves around her being weak. This could have been fine if she actually developed, or if she found some other area for herself, yet she's mediocre at best and a waste of panels at worst, because she never becomes good or strong at anything. She’s not only physically weak from start to finish, but she’s also the equivalent of a damsel in distress. Everytime Hinata attempts to do something, she ends up failing, getting beaten up and having to be saved. She lost to her sister who is five years younger than her, which is what marked her as a failure in her clan. She tried to fight Neji in the chunin exams and ended up coughing up blood and losing her consciousness, and Naruto had to beat Neji for her. After Kabuto heals her fully, she spends the rest of part 1 either sleeping or missing in action. Very underwhelming.

If this had been only the beginning, it would have maybe been fine, but it’s a reoccuring pattern with her character. She throws herself in front of Pain, managing to do nothing but get one-paneled and almost killed. Even at the start of the war she had to be saved by Naruto. She tried to run to Naruto and tripped over a rock. Actually, she’s so weak she got Neji killed, when he had to jump in front of her so she wouldn’t get impaled. Why is she even in the front lines when she can’t fight? Even in Naruto the Last movie she had to be saved multiple times. In Boruto the movie she is still useless and reckless, leaving her daughter’s side to help Naruto, ending up defeated and having to be healed by Sakura once again.

I can’t say she’s mentally strong either. She has the personality of someone who hates conflict and tries to avoid it as best as they can, to the point of agreeing with others on everything, as Neji pointed out. Even without him saying it out loud, most of Hinata’s moments that aren’t her thinking about Naruto are her doing exactly this. This is not the personality of someone who is strong mentally. It’s the personality of someone who is too weak to have their own mind, someone who will go with the flow and is easily led and convinced. It can be dangerous the more you think about it. Hinata is also the bystander who never stands up for Naruto despite liking and admiring him. If she’s a compassionate girl, why isn’t she showing this by reaching out to Naruto and befriending him? Why doesn’t she show he’s not alone? Why is she only drawing inspiration from him? I don’t normally watch fillers, but there was one filler scene unrelated to Hinata where this girl says if you only look at the loser and do nothing, you aren’t much better than the oppressors, which probably wasn’t meant to be a call out for Hinata, but ended up being so anyway. Another thing that’s annoying is how she is berating herself often, yet doing nothing, it comes off as self-pity. Even in the Last movie, she is talking about how she must be a bad sister for knitting a scarf when her sister is in danger. Then why are you doing it and not stopping? Of course everytime this happens Naruto must cheer her up because she just can’t stop moping around and doing something herself.

Aside from all this, from the very beginning Hinata’s honor needed to be defended by Naruto because she couldn’t stand up for herself. Of course, after Naruto’s words she did stood up for a moment, and that was good, but it should have been a wake up call which altered her course. Instead, she kept doing the same she always did. If we take the Last movie into consideration, she’s still not strong enough to do anything even about her crush on Naruto. She needs genjutsu and Sakura to do the work for her. So even when it comes to the only thing she cares about 90 % of the time, which is Naruto-kun, she can’t do anything about it. That’s really sad.

”HINATA IS KIND AND SELFLESS”

There’s one mistake I see people make often, and that’s assuming characters that are quiet and shy are automatically kind. I wouldn’t say Hinata is as kind as the fandom makes her out to be. She simply comes off that way because you don’t really see her have her own opinions or disagree with the other characters. Hinata’s shyness on the other hand is most of the time a fetishized quirk to appeal to certain subset of fans. Her shyness doesn’t stop her from taking exams or hanging around Shino and Kiba, or talking to characters other than Naruto. She also has enough attitude to rub Neji’s status as a house slave in his face during their match, but because she stutters Naruto-kun every five minutes she’s supposedly kind. Kindness is shown through actions, not through standing around and stuttering. For comparison, we see Ino befriend an unpopular kid like Sakura, and give her confidence. That’s an act of kindness. Did Hinata ever cared about helping the branch members in any way? No.

She's supposedly "kind" but like I mentioned before she never shows this kindness by standing up for Naruto, or reaching out to him. She simply stares at him behind a tree and draws inspiration from his suffering. The only time she can actually stand up is to selfishly confess her love and die. She even said she felt like being selfish, and like I said she knew there was nothing she could do, she was told she’d only be in the way. She came there only to confess and commit suicide. This actually reminds me of another anime where this female character, after being unable to receive a male character’s love killed herself in front of him and said ”now you’ll never forget me”.

In the end, she cares about nothing but her own hormonal urges. Hinata tried to help Naruto cheat to pass an exam at the risk of disqualifying her whole team. This is the first individual action we see her character take. Did she consider Shino and Kiba during that moment? No, she didn’t even have an inner conflict on whether she should do this, whether it’s right towards her teammates. Even Naruto considers he might get Hinata, Sasuke and Sakura all in trouble if he accepts Hinata’s offer, which is why he doesn’t do it. Then when Hinata wonders if she can cheer for Naruto during his and Kiba’s match, she thinks Kiba might get mad. It’s more about how Kiba views her rather than whether she should cheer for Kiba because they are in the same team and should support each other. During the Pain attack, she left an injured shinobi, who couldn’t move, to go to Naruto, even when said shinobi told her she would only be in Naruto’s way. She didn’t try to save people, she simply wanted to confess and act in front of Naruto. This is about a threat to the entire village, which includes her comrades and her sister and she’s thinking only about her romantic feelings towards a guy she had maybe two conversations with and who barely remembers she exists. How is she better than Sakura? War arc really was the icing on the cake that Hinata’s character is only about Naruto. We should not forget the infamous ”Naruto-kun’s hand is so big… so manly...” is that really the right time to be thirsty? When Neji just died? Shikamaru mentions that he could help out Naruto as a right-hand man and then Hinata thinks “I-I want to be by Naruto-kun’s side too.” Then there’s of course the scene where she starts running to Naruto, leaving her post and teammates, even when Naruto is a mile away and already in the hands of medical ninjas, and even that ends up her pathetically tripping over a rock. Kiba has to remind her to use her byakugan because she is too busy gushing about Naruto. Eventually her only last line is “Naruto-kun”, when everyone is put into IT. It’s like a parody by this point. She doesn’t have any concern for her sister, her father, her teammates, Kurenai or her baby. It’s just “Naruto-kun” like it always is. Even in the Last movie, she is knitting a scarf for Naruto during the mission where they’re supposed to save her sister. Who brings a scarf on a mission? Why is she thinking about her romantic gift to Naruto so much she has to take it with her on a mission which focus is saving her sister? She even looks more devastated when Toneri tores the scarf apart than she ever does for Hanabi’s sake. It’s just silly and selfish.

”HINATA IS A COMPLEX CHARACTER”

Is she complex though? Her development goes from standing behind a tree looking at her crush she never talks to, to committing suicide for feelings that could never be reciprocated, to… waiting that a genjutsu and Sakura guilt trip Naruto enough for him to be with her? Like I already mentioned her character revolves entirely around Naruto, she has no hobbies or interests we know of aside from him. She has no motivations aside from being by Naruto’s side. She once had an interesting goal and backstory, but that was never fully explored, and it turned into her wanting Naruto’s attention and thinking about him. Her clan plot was irrelevant, she showed no interest in wanting to be a leader or even wanting to make things better for the branch members. It’s funny because immediately after the ending, no one cared about the Hyuuga branch and how the storyline was dropped and had no resolution. It was only when Hinata was being attacked for not showing to care did her fans start to over-analyze all the panels looking for the tiniest little clue that might hint at some changes.

It’s possible to be both shy, anxious and quiet and also to be strong, motivated and have interests and dreams. Hinata is never strong for herself, she’s only strong to be with Naruto, to die for Naruto, to motivate Naruto, to have Naruto look at her even for a moment. All the while Naruto doesn’t pay much attention to her unless she’s literally dying in front of him or she slapped him. Even when a big climax is happening, what’s on her mind is always her romantic feelings and her crush. I saw someone say if she were a male character, and she pulled this pointless sacrifice and theatrical confession in the final fight of an arc, she would’ve been universally mocked. Actually, I think even if it was Sakura who did this instead of Hinata the former would have been mocked, because their stans are unable to see the same flaws in their own fave as they see in the other girl. Naruto is a battle manga, characters are supposed to contribute to the defeat of the villain in some material way. The only reason people praise Hinata for what she did in the Pain arc is because they either pity her or because they’re men who think women killing themselves for a man is great because it boosts their ego.

I also notice many Hinata fans don’t notice the vanity in their own fandom. They call Hinata “princess”, ”heiress”, ”Konoha’s first lady” and draw fanart glorifying these concepts and how it makes Hinata good, because they like the superficial status, what they don’t care is the titles are unearned. I thought Hinata’s appeal was that she’s the underdog and a loser? Or maybe her real appeal is the idea of getting everything you want without doing much in order to get it?  Another claim is that Hinata is the perfect woman, which you might see from men. This is what I might dislike the most. Men judge Hinata’s worth and whether she’s a good character based on what kind of woman they want and think is the right kind of woman. Hinata has big breasts, she’s submissive, she has no other interests than the man she likes, and she’s the only girl in her class who didn’t go for the popular guy. Many men hate Sakura, Ino and Karin for being fangirls but praise Hinata for being a fangirl. Basically to them if a character is a fangirl of the wrong guy, she’s a stupid slut. If she fangirls their self insert, she’s wife material and the ideal woman. If Sakura has to be saved, she’s useless. If Hinata tries to kill herself for Naruto, she’s ”so kind”. Rin is a one-dimensional character, but Hinata saying Naruto-kun for the 50th time is depth. Hinata is also claimed to be better than the other girls because she had more kids and thus is more ”fertile”. It’s like feminism never happened and we are back to the 16th century. Why are we judging women’s worth on how many kids they have and how much they can please a man?

I could also talk about how Studio Pierrot turned Hinata into a hentai bait for otakus, which also plays a part in her popularity, but I don’t think it’s necessary, so I will just offer this picture which speaks for itself.

END NOTE

Hinata is simply just a sexist stereotype, a shadow of a real woman, with not much depth, and who is certainly not better than Sakura either. Both of them are fangirls whose characters revolve around men. It’s wild to me how there are women who genuinely act like one must be a misogynist if they reject Hinata’s superficial, one-dimensional and boy crazy character. Her character itself is misogynist for crying out loud. And honestly, what does it say when even the creator himself assumes that Hinata is someone’s favorite character because he must like big boobs?

[kadi-sann]

Midori’s fear and why it doesn’t make any sense

I absolutely love Midori, okay. I ADORE him. He's one of the best written villains I encountered in few recent years and I'm not even joking. And trust me as a villains fanatic I saw many, many weird souls along the way so I know what I’m saying.

Don't get me wrong, he's absolutely terrible. He's walking, breathing (??) human garbage who deserves thousands of painful deaths but I can't help but find him so damn fascinating as a villain.

Like this dude has no reason whatsoever (or at least none we know about) to be the way he is. The only backstory we know about really is how he killed people since his school days.

He's this funky, little dude with childish behavior who you need to satisfy on every occasion or he will straight up kill you without blinking an eye. What I am even saying: he will kill you regardless! That's what all fun is about, right?!

Like this dude traumatized Keiji, Reko, Alice and most importantly Shin to the point he isn't able to trust anyone - mostly Sara who he sees as strong just like he sees Midori because of her highest win rate from the very beginning.

Not only that but the whole famous talk about "do you know what majority vote is" at the beginning of the game within few seconds with shadow Shin is a HINT of his impact on Shin's psyche, because that's exactly how his first trial went. Not to mention constant "ahaha" is like confirmation it's Midori talking trough Shin's consciousness.

He'll laugh his ass off on your suffering. He will traumatize you on every occasion. Tire you up not only mentally but also psychically as he experimented on thousands of people before and KNOWS what will make you hurt the most. And since he’s a sadist he won’t be holding back. He’ll also kill everybody you care for.

So... what I'm saying is.. I absolutely... ABSOLUTELY I'm telling you refuse to believe that this dude - this fucking walking nightmare of a demon - is afraid of something lame like DEATH. Because.... WHAT??

He cut his arms off without hesitation (and is so proud about it too! Like “yeah, I did cut off my limbs, so what?")

and attached them to Mai just so he can make her disgusted with herself and have small laugh about it when she’ll realize it.

He cut out his own damn HEAD to change it for a doll one. ("Ehehe! I gave up my humanity!")

He also wanted to be in a Death Game on his own free will where death is almost certain for everybody and you're telling ME he is afraid to die?? Cutting his own head is near death experiance, what do you even mean bro??

I get it. Nankidai probably thought that he can't be too OP. He probably wanted him to have some weakness or wanted to give some ending for everybody (be it characters inside the game or us the players) where they can feel satsfaction from Midori breaking up mentally but as satisfactory as it was for me I couldn't help but be salty about it too to some degree. And the more I think about it the more it doesn't make sense, especially when you'll take into consideration what kind of villain Midori really is.

If Nan wanted to go that way I would prefer for Hiyori to bitch about how lame his death is gonna be so LOUD that even Miley would hear him from the first floor, slammed that button for elevator for 4th floor and bitch slap him SO HARD in front of everyone (bonus points if his head would spin bc of her strenght) so she can just finally shut him up. Cause isn't it what besties are supposed to do?? Yes, make him pathetic if you want, just do it in his character. That would be better outcome than current one I swear.

Because for me Midori is that type of dude who would love to commit suicide and go with the bang, make his death absolute show for everybody around, traumatizing all the people who would be unlucky enough to witness it and to die with a goddamn smirk on his face rather than pathically begging Maple to spare him.

Not to mention he messed with her and her program HIMSELF. He's supposed to be a genius: sociopathic human researcher that - according to Shin - knows everything. You won't convince me he didn't see that coming one way or another. He must have known that he was only holding Maple back for some time and that’s it. I also like to imagine that Shin was talking about him so highly just because he didn’t see anyone as smart as Hiyori before and in reality Midori is just some idiot when it comes to the most obvious things.

I won’t even mention the banquet because we all know how that ended. Don’t make me start cause I want to hold onto some of my sanity for now.

 I'm so mad, you just don't understand. *shakes Midori hard* Sir, tell me you were lying, that will make me sane again.

Yeah so anyway I love Midori but that one trait of his doesn’t make sense at ALL.

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Draw your swords, pt. 7

Summary: In order to win, she might have to lose.

Warnings: angst, swearing, bit of fluff, sexual content

Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four // Part five // Part six  

=================================

Waking up to skies lit by the wintry sun is what Y/N expected. In the back of her mind, she remembers opening her eyes. Perhaps it’s her mind playing tricks on her, but she could swear she heard Aleksander’s voice softly speaking to her. 

Telling dreams from reality felt like an impossible task, but if it were a dream, would she really dream of him?

Death never crossed her mind. She was a soldier in an expendable army for most of her life, yet she never feared death. There was never a lingering sense of what if when they asked her if she believed in life after death, but she wondered now. Looking death in the eye had forced a realization upon her – she would die and achieve nothing. She married arguably the most powerful man in all of Ravka and she failed to utilize it. In the end, her name would be forgotten in history for her plans would all die with her.

Inhaling sharply, she wanted to open her eyes. A heaviness settles on her eyelids, making her groan. Her entire body felt dismantled, every nerve bare, inflicting pain.

“It’s alright”, a hand pressed to her forehead and Y/N frowns. Breathing heavily, she felt vulnerable, exposed.

Swallowing thickly, her eyes flutter open. With blurry vision, she looked up at the dark presence looming above her. Blinking fast, her lips part and before she can ask, cool liquid runs down her parched throat.

Taking a deep breath, her eyes closed again. She needed a moment to collect herself, to stop the world from spinning.

“It hurts”, she mumbles meekly.

“Shhh”, his voice reaches her. “I’m here”, she feels a gentle squeeze of his hand, “You’re safe.”

Resisting sleep, she opened her eyes once more. The sight of his tormented gaze leaves her nearly breathless. He’s still handsome, but it looks as if he’s aged ten years in just a few days.

“What happened?” Her voice is hoarse, still raspy from thirst and sleep.

“You’ve been in and out of consciousness for a week”, his forehead wrinkles, “We’ve just made it back.”

Despite the little voice in his head, the Darkling held onto his wife throughout the night. He kept her close to his chest, running his fingers through her hair. She was exhausted, injured so badly he could hear the strain her body was under with every breath she took.

Her eyes remained closed, her lips slightly parted and his pressed in a thin line. Absurd. It was absurd to think that someone like that – so delicate, so fragile, could have any power over him. It baffles him just how quickly he found himself attached to this woman who was unremarkable in every possible way – or so he told himself.

Truth be told, he couldn’t take his eyes off her since he first saw her. She radiates genuine beauty few possess, a confidence he’s never found in anyone in hundreds of years, and an air of mystery he couldn’t quite understand.

By the time morning light reached their tent, the Darkling just stared at her with care, studying every inch of her face as if it could be the last time he’ll ever be given a chance. He memorized the way she fit in his embrace, the rhythm of her beating heart in the dead of night and every labored breath as it threatened his sanity.

Anger was his best friend for so long, his shield against humanity, but his anger wasn’t all-consuming as it once was – it was directed to those who caused the swelling around her eyes and cuts across her cheekbones.

“General”, Ivan’s head peaked inside the tent only to swiftly disappear once he caught sight of a moment he was sure wasn’t meant for his eyes.

Rolling his eyes, the Darkling gently laid her head down. Caressing her cheek, he let a heavy sigh pass his lips. It’s been too long since he last felt so defenseless and helpless as he did now. He promised himself he’d never feel that way again and yet he found himself in the same cursed whirlwind of emotions as he was in when the fold came to be.

Biting his lower lip, he pushed it all down. If he’s distraught, his people would know. He cannot be emotional and still lead an army. He has to be strong – for Grisha and for Y/N.

“Ivan, we’ll have to find a healer soon”, Kirigan spoke in a hushed tone. Glancing at the tent, he felt a lump growing at the back of his throat. “I believe she’s developed a fever too.”

“Fedyor can try to cool her temperature”, Ivan offers, “He’ll slow her heart and keep her breathing. I’ll trade with him if necessary.”

Nodding, the general was satisfied with Ivan’s solution. For once, Ivan didn’t question why he wanted to protect her. This time, he was offered aid rather than words of discouragement.

“I’ll have to leave some of our own here”, Kirigan looks at the direction they came from. “The Fjerdans came too close and I need to know why. Why would they take my wife?”

Ivan lowers his voice, making sure he doesn’t wake up Y/N, “Perhaps it was a coincidence.”

“I don’t believe in coincidences. Not when her safety is at stake.”

Nodding, Ivan glances at Fedyor. He’d be the same if anyone touched his beloved. Suppressing a smile, Ivan finally realized it – no matter how vehemently the general denies it, his heart is no longer his.

“What are the orders? I’ll make the necessary arrangements.”

“Take back what they took, place their heads on a stake and wait. More should come soon and when they do, I want to know why they came so close to Little Palace and who ordered them to take my wife.”

Squinting, not in anger but to see him better, Y/N frowns, “A week?”

“Winter made it hard for us to move faster and you were in no shape to ride back.”

Letting out a shaky breath of air, she raised an eyebrow, “So you carried me?”

“Ivan and Fedyor kept you alive too.”

Wetting her chapped lips, she hesitated. Her fingers burned, itching to touch him, to intertwine with his.

“A healer should be here any minute now”, Aleksander informed, pulling his hand out of hers as if he could sense her inner battles and decided to help her by removing himself from it entirely.

“No”, she decided.

Standing abruptly, his jaw clenched. Despite his stern expression, his eyes hold all the sadness in the world, pleading eyes that both threaten and adore.

“No?” He repeats with disdain, “What do you mean by no?”

Holding her breath, she endures a sharp pain in her ribcage as she propped herself up on her elbows. Breathing heavily, she directed her determined gaze on him. “I’m human, am I not?”

Squinting at her, his lips part, “And?”

Struggling to prevent herself from laughing at the way he looked at her now, Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Humans aren’t allowed aid of a healer. We go to the medics.”

“You’re my wife”, he remarks almost instantaneously, slightly wishing she remained unconscious for a while longer. If she slept, the healer would have done their job and there would be no argument. There was no doubt about it, their truce was over.

“But I’m still a human. The rest of my kind don’t have the privilege of being married to you.” Her voice is stern, low and frustratingly righteous.

“You need a healer or you might not survive”, Aleksander insisted.

“Then let me die.” She stared at him, no signs of crumbling and it made him feel like he’s drowning.

Rubbing his forehead, the Darkling shut his eyes in frustration. After all the sleepless nights, his head felt like it would implode. All he had on his mind was her safety and now when he brought her home, she refused help.

“What do you want?”

Knitting her eyebrows, she glanced at his jaw as it clenched. “What?”

Her voice is higher, almost confused but he knew better than that. “I’ve known you for almost two months.” Two months too long, he thought. “I know when you’re trying to extort me.”

Covering her mouth, Y/N suppressed a laugh. Truth be told, it’s exactly what she’s doing, she just didn’t expect him to cave so quickly.

“Healers for the First army”, her lips twitch. Pursing her lips, she bites the soft flesh on the inside of her mouth to stop herself from smiling at all costs.

“No”, he spoke through gritted teeth.

Shrugging, she laid back down. “Alright then. I only regret I won’t be here to hear you explain my death to the Tsar and my father.”

Growling under his breath, he swipes his hand down his face. “One healer.”

“Two”, she argued, sitting up with a pained expression on her face.

“We can’t spare two”, the Darkling crosses his arms, his eyes darker than ever before.

Lifting her chin in defiance, she narrowed her eyes at her husband. “Two healers or no deal.”

Releasing a long, heavy breath in frustration, the Darkling felt his insides turn. “Two healers but only for those who can’t get better with a week long rest on their own.”

“Two healers for those who can’t get better in a few days of rest AND the same amount of food and water for the First army.”

Running a hand through his hair, the general’s nostrils flare. Cracking his neck to the left, to the right, he turned his death glare back on his wife. “Food and water are limited for Grisha as well.”

“I saw them eat grapes”, Y/N deadpans. “You have enough, so share. If the First army dies out, who will protect your precious Grisha?”

Folding her hands in her lap, she maintained eye contact with the general who refused to blink. He stared back at her, aghast. The woman was impossible! She made every word that passed her lips a contest of wills.

His jaw set, he moved closer to stand before her. He looked formidable with the relentless, firm pools of black ink for eyes devouring her with intensity, too hard in comparison to what she had seen in the tent. He looked like he could kill her without even putting a hand on her…something she still expected him to do.

What was stopping him? She was far behind enemy lines, no reinforcements and she saw what he can do – he could kill everyone who stood in his way.

“Fine”, he huffs. “Under one condition.”

Rolling her eyes, she nods, “What is it?”

“I want a kiss.”

Her eyes flashed to his. Ringed with golden bruises, she was still alluring – like a wildfire or a storm. No…she is wildfire, a storm. She is deadly and uncontrollable and slightly out of her wits and he’s asking her to be his ruination. It isn’t love, he tells himself, it’s obsession.

Raising her eyebrows, Y/N didn’t bother hiding her surprise. A kiss? Of all the things he could have asked, the big bad general who can summon shadows is asking for a kiss?

A part of her trusted Aleksander and that trust demanded intimacy. She wanted his hands on her – in her hair, his lips on her neck. She longed to be vulnerable and that’s what worried her. Trusting him, needing him, it’s bound to breed love and self-inflicted madness. If it were anything else, she would outright refuse him, but she has so many lives dependent on her answer.

“Tonight”, she decided. If her own sanity is the price to pay, she will do what she has to do.

Nodding, the Darkling retreated. Leaving the room, he opened the door for the healer to enter. Sparing her a quick look, he swallowed thickly as the thought of her willingly kissing him made his heart slam into the rib cage. Even his heart wanted to escape him as it too longed for her hands’ touch.

He didn’t make more than two steps outside the room when a Grisha joined him - one of his many spies.

“What do you have for me?”

The spy beckons him to the side, looking around wildly. “This could change everything.”

“What is it?” The Darkling speaks through gritted teeth, demanding an answer.

“There is talk”, the spy pauses, “Of a Sun Summoner.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Healed, bathed and properly fed, Y/N had paced their room in anticipation of his arrival. She had seen the look in his eyes earlier that day – something between them has changed.

As the door opens, her breath halts inside her throat.

“I thought you were lost”, Genya admitted. “When they found your mare, I lost hope.”

Smiling, Y/N cupped her cheek. “I did too”, she sniffled.

The Darkling felt, more than saw, her presence as he entered the room. He turned slowly, his breath held. Her hair looked darker in the candlelight, its rich color gleaming against the green velvet of fresh sheets on the bed she leaned against. He could hardly speak. The nearness of her, the quiet room, the candlelight made him question the reality of what he was looking at.

“You look better”, Aleksander managed a curt smile, looking at Y/N and her attire. The sheer nightdress she wore was back, perfectly outlining her figure.

“Why did they take you?” Genya asked, unshead tears weighing heavily on her eyes. “Did they know?”

“No”, Y/N shakes her head, “But they found out.”

“How?”

“It doesn’t matter. Kirigan killed them all.” Y/N glanced at the door where she expected her husband to appear later on.

Chewing on her bottom lip, Y/N felt her heart flip. “It helped me realize something.”

Frowning, Genya waited for Y/N to explain.

“Your General does have a heart”, she states. His request for a kiss lingered in every thought her mind could concoct.

She stared at him then slowly untied the belt of her robe and it glided languidly over her smooth skin, falling to her feet.

His gaze roamed over her as if he is unable to fully comprehend her beauty. Only when he looked back at her eyes did he see she was troubled. 

“Of course he does”, Genya chuckles, “He was most worried when you were taken. He promised he’d kill them all and bathe in their blood.”

“I think I can use that.”

Knitting her eyebrows, Genya’s frown deepened. “How?”

Pressing her lips, Y/N sighed. “In order for me to win”, she paused, “He needs to believe he did.”

“Husband”, she spoke clearly. She feigned confidence, but inside she quivered.

She had barely finished the syllable when she was in his arms, being carried to their bed, his lips already fastened to hers. She felt his lips hit hers like a tornado, his admission of burning the world in her name spinning in her head. It could have been a fever dream, but she would bet her life it wasn’t.

Holding her chin in place, he rested his forehead on hers, heaving from the kiss. She couldn’t open her eyes, clinging to him for dear life, but even with eyes closed, Y/N could hear the emotions thick in his voice.

“I don’t want to do anything you’re not willing.” He whispered against his lips, all too prepared for his hands to roam her body now.

Y/N was afraid of herself as well as of him. He could sense it as he kissed her. He’d waited a long time for her to come to him and now it seems she was more than ready to give herself to him without his talk of her marital duty.

He expected anything but to find her with her arms wide open.  But even now, as he held her, he felt no great sense of triumph.

Pulling the sheet over her, he stood. “I can wait.”

The sheet accented her shoulders and the full swelling of her breasts. The candlelight deepened the shadow above the sheet. Her bare throat pulsed with life. Her face was set in a firm, serious expression that caused her eyes to darken. Her lips were hard, as if carved of marble and he ached to part them into a smile.

Turning away, he began undressing himself for bed, wondering how he could survive a night beside her if she remains as she is now.

She averts her gaze, whispering under her breath in confusion, “Wait?”

He laid beside her, barely dressed at all. She found herself achingly aware of his presence. The only light in the room was from the flames of candles she placed across the room. The light danced on her hair, played with the shadows of her delicate collarbones. At this moment, he remembered nothing of the arrangement their marriage was meant to be. He knew only that he was in bed with a desirable woman, one he never expected to claim. She seemed too headstrong to ever give into his charm, yet she bared herself before him and he couldn’t take advantage of her.

“Why don’t you want me?” She sat up, glaring at him. She let the sheet fall as his eyes met hers, bravely fixing him with her fiery gaze.

Rolling his eyes, he looks away. How can she torment him like this with no shame?

If anything, he felt like she’s attacking him. “I don’t want to hear about how a demon took you by force for the rest of my life.”

“It’s not force if I’m giving myself willingly, is it?” She raised an eyebrow, deciding on a tactic finally. Aleksander is a general, a conqueror at heart and she saw the desire in his eyes. If there was any hope of her plan to work, she had to harness his desire to convince him he won.

Licking his lips as he cracked a smile, Aleksander nodded in surprise, unable to keep his eyes from wandering lower to her breasts. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” He wanted to possess her, to claim this difficult, headstrong woman for himself. His mouth came down brutally hard on hers, claiming them, nearly bruising them.

Y/N fumbled with the sheet that wrapped around her, making Aleksander chuckle into the kiss.

“Let me help you,” Aleksander purred and tore the sheet away, pulling it from under the mattress.

Wrapping his hand around Y/N’s neck, his grip was oddly weak, gentle even. She laid nude before him, his gaze fixed on her. He stared at her in wonder; her full breasts, curvy waist, round hips. Then he looked back at her face, her eyes blazing. Her lips were reddened from his kiss, and suddenly there was no power on earth that could stop him from taking her.

“You make me feel”, he pauses in anguish, “You make me feel”, he said quietly, fiercely, “And I don’t like it. I want it to stop. Now.”

He pushed her into the mattress and Y/N saw the ruthless general in his eyes and for a moment she feared it. A general isn’t gentle at all, not like Aleksander could be. She feared the pain he’d cause and the tears that would follow. She feared what he’d do to her, but then the fear she felt dissipated as he spoke against her lips.

“I’ll go slowly.” Aleksander stopped himself, remembering she’s never had a man in her bed before and once he saw the fear in her eyes extinguish the flame he already adored, he reeled himself in.

“Your hands are bloody from murder”, she paused, “But I trust them completely.” Her voice had never been smaller, her hands never as desperate as she clung to him. She wanted to trust the sudden, overwhelming warmth in his unrelentingly tender gaze, but she still awaited the pain that was yet to come. He moved on top of her, his lips attaching to her neck gently as he pressed a kiss above her pulsating carotid, knowing she’s nervous as he felt the pace of her pulse.

With one thigh, Aleksander parted hers. He kissed her again, passionate and slow, distracting her as his hand moves lower, down to the intimate parts she never allowed another only man to see, to feel. Slipping his finger between her folds, he found if applied enough pressure a desperate moan escapes her without a fail. He feels her breathing change as he begins to rub circles, her thighs trying to push against his in a need of more friction. And that’s when control escapes her and she closes her eyes completely, letting the pleasure take over.

Unable to wait any longer, Aleksander pushed the head of his hardened length between the folds, feeling her wetness pooling over as nature’s lubricant. Feeling the membrane, he stops for a moment. Looking at her carefully for any signs of distress, he wonders if she even realizes what is about to happen.

“Do you want this?” He asks again, fearing she may change her mind.

Gripping his arm, she nods. “Yes”, she replies, breathless.

Pressing himself inside, he bows his head in the crook of her neck, growling lowly in pleasure. It’s not the first virgin he had, but it’s the first one that made him want to come on the first thrust.

“Go on.” She encourages him, surprising them both. Swallowing thickly, she sinks her nails into his back, anticipating the next thrust. It would be a lie if she said she wasn’t in pain, but she knew it would get easier as he moves again and she would feel the pleasure again – and she wanted the pleasure more than the pain.

Nodding, Aleksander starts moving in and out slowly, refusing to risk her pain for a little more pleasure he’d find in speed and his untimely release. Instead, he’s using deep, slow strokes with a relentless care for the nerve bundle between her folds. Every passing second draws louder moans from her until he feels her clench around him, his own mind blackening as he feels himself nearing the edge. She’s holding him so tightly to her body, so desperately as she unravels beneath him. Picking up pace, he finally loses control, jerking his hips to meet hers in a deep thrust only to finish deep inside her, allowing them both to breathe.

Rolling off her, Aleksander decided to stay quiet, allowing her to have control of the moment. If she wants his embrace, he’d do it for her and if she wants to talk, he’d talk to her, otherwise, he’d just sleep. It’s been so long since he truly slept – since the day they went for that ride.

He placed an arm around her for comfort alone, not pressing himself closer than necessary, closing his eyes once he realizes she’s not interested in him at all after she came down from her high.

Waiting for a few minutes, Y/N pretended to sleep. After the hurricane of emotions he’d given her, Y/N didn’t know how to feel. She wanted to relax, to sleep in bliss, but a part of her ached. She ached for who she used to be. Would her father hate her for what she just did? Would her people denounce her for sleeping with the enemy?

Her eyes opened wide, finding his are still closed. Lips quivering, she felt herself crumble as tears fled her eyes. She watched his sleeping figure and sighed deeply, telling herself to stop crying. She was supposed to be in control of him, to make him want her and crave her, yet she found it was the opposite. She didn’t love him, but she did feel a connection…perhaps it’s the kindness he showed her when he rescued her or the pleasure he had given her, but something inside her changed and the heart she hardened on purpose found a soft spot for the general.

=============================

Tags: @bruxa0007 @rangotangomango @kaitlyn2907 @thestoryofmylife9 @shelivesindaydreamswme @hxrgreeves @safetyhtom @kaqua @savannah-elliott @all-art-is-quite-useless  @azure23x @girlmadeofavocados @ashdab2611 @acciorudolphx @ladyblablabla @wckedheart @xceafh @sanna2020 @tarkanelima-blog @takethee @mellifluous-cosmos @marvel-ousnesss @tea-effect @starlightofsolaria @p3nny4urth0ught5 @blackbirddaredevil23 @sarcastic-and-cool @slytherinsbiggestproblem @within-thehollowcrown @notthatchhavi @musicconversedance @freakytillthemoon  @lgkoval @honeyofthegods @queenmalhinewahine @misselsbells06  @whatthefluffrichard @aami98 @britriestbr @itsfangirlmendes @padme-parker @readingsssssssss @runawayolives @thehighladyofasgard @emlynblack @keithseabrook27 @dailydoseofchoices @deceivedeer​

Part 8

[s-brant]

Baby Names

(gif: @mishellejones) (SERIES MASTERLIST)

Summary: Y/N gets frustrated while putting the crib for her and JJ’s baby together and finds herself missing her dead brother more than ever.

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Fluff and minor angst.

A/N: Asks and ye shall receive, here’s a little blurb about what happens after Tokens! You don’t really have to read the other parts to enjoy this fic if you don’t want to, but I do recommend it for some backstory. This was slightly inspired by this fic by @cognacdelights, so go give her stuff a read! Let me know if you liked this. Have fun!

Y/N Routledge thought she got over her brother's death long ago.

Though you never truly "get over" losing a loved one, though there will always be a small part of you, however small, that aches for their presence again, she thought she moved past the tragedy to the best of her ability...until last week.

To say that the pregnancy was a surprise would be the understatement of the century. She and JJ were both on the same page about children when their relationship began, and that page was that neither of them wanted them yet. Sure, the idea of it in the future stirred their hearts with fond emotion, but considering that they had yet to graduate high school and barely scraped by on their own, they weren't jumping headfirst into that aspect of adulthood.

They were meticulous about safe sex. They couldn't afford another mouth to feed, she wasn't sure she could handle the emotional trauma of having an abortion, and, underneath it all, he had some reservations about being a father. It wasn't that he didn't envision a future with kids in their relationship, he did, but the topic of fatherhood always took him down a dark path within his mind.

So, she went on birth control once they started dating and they went along with no scares for the next six years as they graduated and started figuring out what the next step for their lives was going to be.

Y/N could get lost thinking about it, honestly, but she tries not to get too swept up in the minor mistake that led to this.

"You, my friend, need to stop moving around in there," she whispers down at her protruding belly with a hand cradling the heavy weight of it, "I'm trying to get your crib set up without JJ yelling at me for not asking for help, and if you don't stop kicking me, I'm not gonna get anything done."

She's sprawled out on the floor in the living room of the Chateau with her legs stretched comfortably in each direction while she hunches over to read the directions of the Ikea furniture. The sugarcoated description makes her want to hunt down the company CEO for sport, because for how "simple and easy!" the construction of it claims to be, she is at her wits end.

The last thing she needed after having her grief over John B's death reignited by their decision to name their kid after him last week was to stress herself out over something as stupid as this, but she won't quit. With how much JJ has been coddling her the further into the pregnancy she gets, she wanted to prove that she could do something for herself.

Whenever she brings in the groceries from the car and goes to lift the bag of dog kibble out of the trunk, he rushes up behind her back and scoops it out of the trunk before she dares to touch it. It always ends with her hollering after him that it's under twenty pounds, the upwards limit of the weight she's allowed to carry according to her doctor, but he refuses to hear any of it.

Inside of her, she feels a sharp sensation of something hitting her right in the ribs in response to her comment, and she groans in frustration. It's as if he did it because he knows she wants it to stop, the feisty little fucker.

"You're definitely your daddy's son, aren't you? It's already enough having one of him, the last thing I need is a JJ clone."

Their three-year-old Rottweiler rescue huffs a sigh from where he lays, frog-legging it, on the floor next to the unboxed crib pieces she can't put together to save her life. His drooping jowls produce a puddle of slobber on the her favorite carpet that is past the point of saving from his constant wear and tear. After a year of having him, she decided to stop trying to prevent him from ruining it. There’s no point.

She smiles at him as she leans forward to read through the directions for the billionth time, saying, "I actually think he'll be a lot like his uncle, but that's just me. If he isn't, I'll feel a little stupid over the name situation."

John Booker Routledge-Maybank.

Hell of a name if you ask her yourself, but for every internal struggle it reopened inside of her, she couldn't help but love it as soon as JJ casually proposed the idea on his way out of the door for work one morning.

Going on without John B has been a learning experience in every aspect. Any time she wanted to turn to him for advice or tell him something about the recent events in her life, she had to walk out back to their dying magnolia tree and sit under the shade to talk to the wind. Then, once the tree finally died and they were forced to cut it down, she took to sitting on its stump and doing it there.

It got easier as time went on, but she can't keep herself from wondering what it'd be like if he didn't die ever since she saw the results on the pregnancy test six months ago. Whenever she does something like going to her OBGYN appointments or, case in point, setting up the crib, she pictures him there.

She can see him here now, petting Bowie's shiny coat until he falls asleep with his head propped onto John B's outstretched legs. He'd be twenty-three years old by now with his life barely starting to blossom to its full potential, yet here they are. Correction, here she is, and he's off somewhere at the bottom of the ocean, already decomposed to the extent that not even his bones can be salvaged anymore.

Her chest sinks in another sigh, and she flips through page after page of the instructions with increasing aggression.

"This crib is so fucking—"

"What are you doing?"

The sound of her yelping in surprise at JJ's voice coming from the door is enough to make him laugh to himself, though his amusement is buried partway by what he's walking in on. He specifically asked her to wait for him to put the crib together, knowing damn well it wouldn't be the easy task she thought it was, but he should've known she'd do it anyway.

She looks over her shoulder with a mixture of guilt and frustration painting her features as she throws her hands up in the air and gestures vaguely to the unassembled crib. Her eyes are shining with the rapid onset of hormone-induced tears.

"I can't put this crib together 'cause the instructions aren't right, all the pieces are labeled wrong, your son won't stop kicking me, and I miss my brother so much right now," she spews the words with no pauses to breathe until the very end, when she stops short to suck down a breath as soon as she gets the last part out.

It leaves JJ standing at the entrance to the house with this stunned expression.

There's no amusement to be found anymore. Once she turned and flashed those wide, teary eyes that never fail to spark an ache in his heart at him, his tired smile vanished and his feet started moving before he could say anything to her.

The floorboards creak beneath his half-laced boots on his way across the room to her. It prompts Bowie to pop his head up from around the side of the coffee table to catch a peek of whoever it is that's approaching his emotionally distraught owner. Upon seeing JJ's familiar face, the dog relaxes back into his lounging position atop the carpet and tracks JJ’s movements until he's seated next to her.

"This is about John B?" he asks.

Her cheeks are flushed in embarrassment at her sudden outburst, and she can't bear to meet his gaze right now. Despite him being her closest friend and husband, she feels as small and vulnerable as she did six years ago when she first learned of her brother's death from Shoupe. Time might as well be shaped in the form of a never-ending circle for them, directing them back to their seventeen-year-old state of mind every time things turn sour.

Y/N finally lifts her hanging head to look over at him after another few seconds and thinks she might crumble at the look on his face. He hates watching her cry.

"I guess," she says through a sniffle, "It's about the crib too, but I've been thinking about it a lot more since we picked the name. Our baby’s gonna grow up never knowing who his uncle was..."

With that, JJ takes it as his cue to pull her closer.

He scoots up behind her and lets his chin rest on the curve bridging her neck and shoulder together as he twines his arms around her body. It's a closeness that's as natural as breathing for him, so natural that he can hardly remember the years before it became normal for them to take part in little moments of intimacy like this. The warmth of their bodies cohabitates in the blurred line distinguishing where she ends and he begins, and he feels her relax, sagging in his embrace in appreciation of his miraculous ability to make her feel better no matter how worked up she is.

One of his hands rests on the swell of her bump in an absentminded effort to calm him too. Even though he isn't consciously thinking of it, he knows that her distress must upset the baby too. The contact steadies her, keeps her grounded to the moment rather than allowing her to slip away into the current of her negative thoughts, and she clings to every word he has to say.

He says, "You and I both know that isn’t true. He's gonna grow up seeing all the pictures you have of John B and ask about him all the time. And we'll tell him all the stories"—there's a pause of contemplation as he recalls a few particularly non-PG memories of his best friend—"Well, maybe not all of them, but you know what I mean."

This draws a soft bout of laughter from deep within her chest that he feels with how her body shakes ever so slightly with it. It seems so wrong to laugh with tears in her eyes but she can't help it. Her emotions have been scattered in every direction since the pregnancy began, and it has only gotten worse the further along she gets.

"If you ever tell him about the kief incident, I'm never giving you a bl—"

His free hand smushes over her mouth before she can say the rest.

"Don't even think about finishing that sentence.”

It's said so frantically, it makes her erupt in laughter hard enough to tickle her abdomen muscles with the aching sensation of it. The vibration of it under his palm makes him drop his hand a second later with the need to hear the beautiful sound. After seeing her cry, it's a welcome shift in mood, even if it's at his expense.

Her head is thrown back on his shoulder, mouth parted into a smile with the gleeful giggling filling the room. His stomach churns with butterflies at the sight of her. Even after all these years, he has the same reaction to her laughter every time. It makes him smile to himself and watch her in quiet reverence. It makes him ache with the same inklings of longing he felt for the first time when he was much younger.

Her laughter begins to die down by the time she can draw enough breath in to murmur a soft, "Sorry, angel," to him and reach down to hold the hand he rests on her belly as consolation for her joke.

They remain this way for another few minutes, tangled up in each other's arms on the floor of the living room with Bowie snoring a few feet away, before he manages to convince her to let him be the one to set up the crib instead. It takes a good five minutes of playful back and forth before she concedes under the condition that he'll let her paint the nursery by herself when the time comes, and that's all it takes for her to abandon the task in favor of finding something to snack on in the fridge.

In her defense, the crib is actually quite difficult to put together.

JJ doesn't consider himself an expert handyman by any means, at least not with anything outside of his area of expertise as an electrician, but he likes to think he knows enough to put together a "no assembly required" Ikea crib without wanting to bang his face against the wall.

In the end, it gets finished by the two of them in the middle of the night over a box of cold leftover pizza from the previous day. It takes them two hours of struggling before they get it fully assembled and placed where they want it in the room that'll soon belong to their son.

He pretends not to notice her sneaking back in to tie John B's old bandana around the wooden railing before they go to bed.

Tag List: @gabiatthedisco, @fangirlvoice, @black-syren, @apparrio, @particularcth, @planetdemon, @idk-ijustworkhere, @krisphann, @astrydis, @k-k0129, @zarahsloves, and @stilesflannels.

[pumpkinpaix]

Pleeeeeeease get into the class one at some point because I very much want to understand the class dynamics happening in the story but I have yet to find a meta that dives into it

god anon you want me dead don’t you alsjdfljks

referring to this post

okay, so -- my specific salt about class interpretations in mdzs are very targeted. I can’t pretend to have a deep understanding of how class works in mdzs generally because uhhhhh yeah i don’t think i have that. i’m just not familiar enough with the genre and/or the particulars of chinese class systems. but! i can talk in general terms as to why I feel a certain way about the class dynamics that I do think I understand and how I think they relate to the themes of the novel! i’m gonna talk about wei wuxian, the daozhangs, xue yang, and 3zun with, I’m sure, a bunch of digressions along the way.

the usual disclaimers: i do not think you are a bad person if you hold opinions contrary to my own. i may disagree with you very strongly, but like. this isn’t a moral judgment, fandom is transformative and interpretive etc. etc. and i may change my mind. who knows what the future will bring!

OKAY so let’s begin!

here’s the thing about wei wuxian: he’s not poor. I think because characters use “son of a servant” kind of often when they’re trying to insult him, a lot of people latch onto that and think that it’s a much stronger indication of his societal status than it actually is. iirc, most of the insults that fall along the “son of a servant” line come after wei wuxian starts breaking severely from tradition. it’s a convenient thing to attack him for, but doesn’t actually indicate anything about his wealth. (exception: yu ziyuan, but that’s a personal familial issue) this is in direct contrast to jin guangyao who is constantly mocked for his family line, publicly and privately, no matter what he does.

so this, coupled with all the jokes about wwx never having any money (wei wuqian, sizhui’s “i’ve long since known you had no money” etc.), plus his like, rough years on the street as a child ends up producing this interpretation of wei wuxian, especially in modern aus, as someone who is very class conscious and “eat the rich”. but the fact of the matter is, wei wuxian IS rich. aside from the years in his childhood and the last two years of his life in yiling, like -- wei wuxian had money and status. he is gentry. he is respected as gentry. he is treated as a son by the sect leader of yunmeng jiang -- he does not have the jiang name, but it is so very clear that jiang fengmian favors him. wei wuxian is ranked fourth of all the eligible young masters in the cultivation world -- that is not a ranking he could have attained without being accepted into the upper class.

wei wuxian’s poverty does not affect him in the way that it affects jin guangyao or xue yang. he is of low-ish birth (still the son of jiang fengmian’s right hand man though! ok sure, “son of a servant” but like. >_> whatever anyways), but for most of his life he had money. he, jiang cheng, and their sect brothers go into town and steal lotus pods with the understanding that “jiang-shushu will pay for it”. this is a regular thing! that’s fucking rich kid behavior!!! wei wuxian is careless with money because he doesn’t have to worry about it. he still has almost all the benefits of being upper class: education, food security, respect, recognition etc. I think there may also be a misconception that wei wuxian was always on the verge of being kicked out by yu ziyuan, or that he was constantly walking on eggshells around her for fear of being disowned, but that is just textually untrue. i could provide receipts, but I admittedly don’t really feel like digging them up just now ;;

even in his last years in yiling, he was not the one who was dealing with the acute knowledge of poverty: wen qing is the one managing the money, and as far as we know, wei wuxian did little to no management of daily life during the burial mounds days -- mostly, he’s described as hiding in his cave for days on end, working on his inventions, running around like a force of chaos, frivolously making a mess of things -- it’s very very cute that he buries a’yuan in the dirt, but in classic wei wuxian fashion, he did Not think about the practical consequences of it -- that A’Yuan has no other clean clothes, and now he’s gotten this set dirty and has no intention of washing them. is this a personality thing? yeah, but I think it’s also indicative of his lack of concern over the logistics of everyday survival, re: wealth.

furthermore, i think it is important to remember that wei wuxian, when he is protecting the wen remnants, is not protecting common folk: he is still protecting gentry. fallen gentry, yes! but gentry nonetheless. wen qing was favored by wen ruohan, and wen ning himself says that he has a retinue of people under his command (the remnants, essentially). their branch of the family do not have the experience of living and growing in poverty -- they are impoverished and persecuted in their last years, but that’s a very different thing from being impoverished your whole life. (sidenote: I do not believe wei wuxian’s primary motivation for defending the wen remnants was justice -- i believe he did it because he felt he owed wen ning and wen qing a life debt, and once he was there, he wasn’t going to stand around and let the work camps go on. yes, he is concerned about justice and doing the right thing, but that’s not why he went in the first place. anyways, that’s another meta)

after wei wuxian returns, he then marries back into gentry, and very wealthy gentry at that. lwj provides him all the money he could ever want, he is never worried about going homeless, starving, being denied opportunities based on his class and accompanying disadvantages. who would dare? and neither wei wuxian nor lan wangji seem to have much interest in shaking up the order of things, except in little things like the way they teach the juniors. they live in gusu, under the auspices of the lan, and they live a happy, domestic life.

were his years on the street traumatizing? yes, of course they were, there’s so much delicious character exploration to be done re: wei wuxian’s relationship to food, his relationship to his own needs, and his relationship to the people he loves. it’s all important and good! but I feel very strongly that that experience, while it was formative for him, did not impart any true understanding of poverty and the common person’s everyday struggles, nor do I think he ever really gains that understanding. he is observant and canny and aware of class and blood, certainly, but not in a way that makes it his primary hill to die on (badum-tss).

this is in very stark contrast to characters like jin guangyao and xue yang, and to some extent, xiao xingchen and song lan. I’ll start with the daozhangs, because I think they’re the simplest (??).

I think both xiao xingchen and song lan have class consciousness, but in a very simplified, broad-strokes kind of way (at least, given the information we know about them). we know that the two of them share similar values and want to one day form their own sect that gives no weight to the nobility of your lineage and has no concern with your wealth. we also know that they both disdain intersect politics and are more concerned with ideals and principles rather than status. but, I think because of that, this actually somewhat limits their perception and understanding of how status is used to oppress. as far as we know, neither of them participated on any side in sunshot and they demonstrate much more interest in relating to the commoners. honestly, i hc that they were flitting around trying to help decimated towns, protecting defenseless villages etc. I ALSO think this has a lot of interesting potential in terms of xiao xingchen and wei wuxian’s relationship, if xiao xingchen is ever revived. regardless of whether you’re in CQL or novel verse, xiao xingchen really doesn’t know wei wuxian at all, other than knowing that he’s his shijie’s son. he knows that cangse-sanren met with a tragic end, like yanling-daoren before her, and that he wants to be different. but here is cangse-sanren’s son, laying waste to entire cities, desecrating the dead. I would very much like to get into xiao xingchen’s head during that period of time (and i think, if i do it right, i can write some of it into the songxiao fixit), but that’s neither here nor there, because i’ve wandered off from my point again.

i would posit that song lan is used to an ascetic lifestyle, and xiao xingchen probably is too -- but that’s different from poverty because there’s an element of choice to it. I also think that neither of them is particularly worldly, xiao xingchen especially. he lived on an isolated mountain until he was like, seventeen, and he came down full of ideals and naivete about how the world worked. I think that both of them see inequality, that they are angered by it, and that they want to do something about it -- but their solution is neither to topple the sects, nor is it to reform the system. rather, it seems to be more about withdrawing and creating their own removed world. I think that the daozhangs embody a kind of utopianism that isn’t present in the minds of any of the other characters, not even wangxian. honestly, baoshan-sanren’s mountain is a utopian ideal, but one that is not described. it exists outside of and beyond the world. i have a lot of jumbled, vague thoughts about utopianism generally, mostly informed by china miéville and ursula k. le guin, and I don’t think i have the ability to articulate them here, but i wanted to. hm. say something? there is something about the inherent dystopianism contained within every utopia, that utopias are necessary, but also reflections of the existence of terrible things in their conception. idk. there’s something in there, I know it!! but i suppose what I want to say is -- i do not think the daozhangs understand class and social hierarchy very deeply because they don’t see a need to examine it deeply. for their goals, the details aren’t the point. they’re not looking to reform within the system, they’re looking to build something outside of it. I think they spend a lot of time concerned with alleviating the symptoms of social oppression, and their values reflect the injustices they witness there.

regardless, even if their story ends in tragedy and there is a certain amount of critique re: the utopian approach, i think the text still emphasizes that xiao xingchen left a utopia and that he thought that people mattered enough for him to try, and that was an incredibly honorable, kind, and human thing to do.

YEAH SURE THE DAOZHANGS ARE THE SIMPLEST ok ok RETURNING to class and moving forward: xue yang.

i also don’t think xue yang has class consciousness lol, or not in any way that really matters, but I do think poverty impacted him in a much stronger way than it impacted wei wuxian. wei wuxian spent some years on the street as a child. xue yang grew up on the streets. chang ci’an’s horrific treatment of him was directly due to his class and social standing: chang ci’an is a nobleman and xue yang is not even worth the dirt beneath the wheels of his cart. what I think is the seminal point though, is that this does not make xue yang think particularly deeply about systemic injustice, because xue yang is so self-centered, self-driven, and individualistic. he is not even slightly concerned about how poverty and class might affect other people -- they’re other people. what he takes away from his experience is not an anger at being wrongfully cheated by a system, but an anger at being wrongfully cheated by a specific man.

xue yang is not particularly concerned with the politics of the aristocracy -- he has no obvious ambitions other than, “i want to eat sweets whenever i please”, “i want to hurt anyone who wrongs me”, and “i want to be so strong that no one can hurt me”. like, he just doesn’t care -- it’s not the kind of power he wants. he sneers at people for like, personal reasons, not class reasons -- “you think you’re better than me” re: xiao xingchen and song lan. to him, all people -- poor, wealthy, noble, common -- are essentially equal, and they are all beneath him. after all, what does he care what family someone comes from, how much money they have? everyone bleeds when you cut them. some of them might be harder to get to than others, but xue yang does not fear that sort of thing. it’s just another obstacle he needs to vault on his way to getting revenge and/or a pastry.

ANYWAYS onto jin guangyao (wow this is hm. getting rather long ahaha oh dear): I would argue that the two characters with the most acute understanding of class/societal politics and the injustice of them are jin guangyao and lan xichen. i’ll start with jin guangyao for obvious reasons.

where xue yang took the damaging effects of poverty as personal slights, I think jin guangyao is painfully aware that there is nothing personal about them, which is, in some ways, much worse. why are two sons, born on the same day to the same father, treated so differently? just because.

he watched his mother struggle and starve and work herself to the bone in a profession where she was constantly disrespected and abused for almost nothing in return, while his father could have lifted her out of poverty with the wave of a finger. why didn’t he? because he didn’t like her? no -- because he didn’t care, and the structures of the society they live in protect that kind of blase treatment of the lower class.

“so my mother couldn’t choose her own fate, is that her fault?” jin guangyao demands. he knows that he is unbelievably talented, that he has ambition, that he has potential, and that all of it is beyond his grasp just because his father didn’t want to bother with it. his mother’s life was destroyed, and his own opportunities were crippled with that negligence. it isn’t personal. that’s just the way things are. your individual identity is meaningless, your humanity does not exist. when he’s kicked down the steps of jinlin tai, it’s just more confirmation that no matter how talented or hardworking he is, no one will give him the time of day unless he finds a way to take it himself and become someone who “matters”.

jin guangyao’s cultivation is weak because he had a poor foundation, and he had a poor foundation because he was denied access to a good one. he copies others because that’s all he can do at this point, and he copies so well that he can hold his own against some of the strongest cultivators of his generation. he’s disparaged for copying and “stealing” techniques, but -- he never would have had to if only he had been born/accepted into the upper class. the fact is that i really do think jin guangyao was the most promising cultivator of his generation that we meet, including the twin jades and wei wuxian: he had natural talent, ambition, creativity, determination and cunning in spades. in some ways, I think that’s one of the overlooked tragedies of jin guangyao: the loss of not just the good man he could have been, but the powerful one too. imagine what he could have done.

jin guangyao spends his entire time in the world of the aristocracy feeling unsteady and terrified because he knows exactly how precarious his position is. he knows how easy it is to lose power, especially for someone like him. he’s working against so many disadvantages, and every scrap of honor he gets is a vicious battle. jin guangyao fears, and I think that’s something that’s lacking in xue yang, wei wuxian and the daozhangs’ experiences/understandings of poverty. i think it’s precisely that fear that emphasizes jin guangyao’s understanding of class and blood. jin guangyao exhibits an anxiety that neither wei wuxian nor xue yang do, and it’s because he truly knows how little he is worth in the eyes of society and how little there is he can do to change that. to me, it very much feels related to the anxiety of not knowing if tomorrow you’ll have something to eat, if tomorrow you’ll still have a home, if tomorrow someone will destroy you and never have to answer for it. it’s the anxiety of knowing helplessness intimately.

moreover, jin guangyao is the only person shown to use the wealth and power at his disposal to take concrete steps to actually help the common people typically ignored by the powerful -- the watchtowers. they’re described in chapter 42. it’s a system that is designed to cover remote areas that most cultivators are reluctant to go due to their inconvenience and the lack of means of the people who live there. the watchtowers assign cultivators to different posts, give aid to those previously forgotten, and if the people are too poor to pay what the cultivators demand, the lanling jin sect pays for it. jin guangyao worked on this for five years and burned a lot of bridges over it. people were strongly opposed to it, thinking that it was some kind of ploy for lanling jin’s personal benefit. but the thing is -- it worked. they were effective. people were helped.

i believe CQL frames the watchtowers as an allegory for a surveillance state/centralized control (i think?? it’s been a minute -- that’s the hazy impression i remember, something like a parallel to the wen supervisory offices?), but I personally don’t think that was the intent in the novel. the watchtowers are a public good. lanling jin doesn’t staff them with their own sect members -- they get nearby sects to staff them. it’s a warning network that they fund that’s supposed to benefit everyone, even those that everyone had considered expendable.

(did jin guangyao do terrible things to achieve this goal? yeah lol. it’s not confirmed, but his son sure did die... suspiciously...... at the hands of an outspoken critic of the watchtowers........ whom he then executed....... so like, maybe just a convenient coincidence for jin guangyao, two birds one stone, but. it seems. Unlikely.)

lan xichen is the only member of the gentry that ever shows serious compassion for and nuanced understanding of jin guangyao’s circumstances. lan xichen treats him as his equal regardless of jin guangyao’s current status -- even when he was meng yao, lan xichen treated him as a human being worthy of respect, as someone with great merits, as someone he would choose as a friend, but he did so knowing full well the delicate position meng yao occupied. this is in direct contrast to nie mingjue, who also believed that meng yao was worthy of respect as a human being, but was completely unable to comprehend the complexities of his circumstances and unwilling to grant him any grace. you know, the difference between “i acknowledge that your birth and status have had effects upon you, but I don’t think less of you for it” and “i don’t consider your birth and status at all when i interact with you because i think it is irrelevant” (“i don’t see color” anyone?)

to illustrate, from chapter 48:

大抵是觉得娼妓之子身上说不定也带着什么不干净的东西，这几名修士接过他双手奉上来的茶盏后，并不饮下，而是放到一边，还取出雪白的手巾，很难受似的，有意无意反复擦拭刚才碰过茶盏的手指。聂明玦并非细致之人，未曾注意到这种细节，魏无羡却用眼角余光扫到了这些。孟瑶视若未见，笑容不坠半分，继续奉茶。蓝曦臣接过茶盏之时，抬眸看他一眼，微笑道：“多谢。”

旋即低头饮了一口，这才继续与聂明玦交谈。旁的修士见了，有些不自在起来。

rough tl:

Probably because they believed that the son of a prostitute might also carry some unclean things upon his person, after these few cultivators took the teacups offered from [Meng Yao’s] two hands, they did not drink, but instead put them to one side, and furthermore brought out snow white handkerchiefs. Quite uncomfortably, and whether they were aware of it or not, they repeatedly wiped the fingers they had just used to touch the teacups. Nie Mingjue was not a detail-oriented person and never took note of such particulars, but Wei Wuxian caught these in the corner of his eye. Meng Yao appeared as if he had not seen, his smile unwavering in the slightest, and continued to serve tea. When Lan Xichen took the teacup, he glanced up at him and, smiling, said, “Thank you.”

He immediately dipped his head to take a sip, and only then continued to converse with Nie Mingjue. Seeing this, the nearby cultivators began to feel somewhat uneasy.

all right, since we’re in full cyan-rampaging-through-the-weeds mode at this point, i’m going to talk about how this is one of my favorite 3zun moments in the entire novel for characterization purposes because it really highlights how they all relate to one another, and to what degree each of them is aware of their own position in relation to the others and society as a whole.

1. nie mingjue, who is a forthright and blunt person, sets meng yao to serving tea and is done with it. he notices nothing wrong or inappropriate about the reactions of the people in the room because it’s not the sort of thing he considers important.

2. meng yao, knowing that his only avenue is to take it lying down with a smile, masks perfectly.

3. lan xichen, noticing all this, uses his own reputation to achieve two things at once: pointedly shame the other cultivators in attendance, and show meng yao that regardless of others’ opinions, he considers him an equal and does not endorse such behavior--and he does it while taking care that no fallout will come down on meng yao’s head.

is this yet another installment of cyan’s endless lxc defense thesis? why yes it is! no one is surprised! but this is my whole point: both meng yao and lan xichen understand the respective hierarchy and power dynamics within the room, while nie mingjue very much does not. this is not because nie mingjue is a bad person or because nie mingjue is stupid--it’s a combination of personality and upbringing. nie mingjue is straightforward and has no patience for such games. but then again, he can afford not to play because he was born into such a high position: that’s a privilege.

to break it down: meng yao knows that he is the lowest-ranked person in the room, sees the way people are subtly disrespecting him in full view of his general who is doing nothing about it. in some ways, this is good -- nie mingjue’s style of dealing with conflict is very direct and not at all suited to delicate political maneuvering. after all, the way he promoted meng yao was actually quite dangerous to meng yao: he essentially guaranteed that his men would bear meng yao a grudge and that their disrespect for him would only be compounded by their bitterness at being punished on his behalf. (it’s like, why often getting parents or teachers to intervene ineffectively in bullying can just be an incitement to more bullying -- same concept) meng yao’s reaction during that scene shows that he’s pretty painfully aware of this and is trying to defuse the situation to no avail. nie mingjue gives him a bootstrap speech (rip nie mingjue i love u so much but. sir) and then promotes him, which is pretty much the only saving grace of that entire exchange, for meng yao at least.

lan xichen, on the other hand, understands both that meng yao is the lowest-ranked person in the room and that any direct attempt to chastise the other cultivators in the room will only serve to hurt meng yao in the long run. he knows that if this were brought to nie mingjue’s attention, he would be outraged and not shy about it -- also bad for meng yao. so he uses what he has: his immaculate reputation. by acting contrary to the other cultivators’ behavior, he demonstrates that he finds their actions unacceptable but with the plausible deniability that it wasn’t directed at them, that this is just zewu-jun being his usual generous self. this means that the other cultivators have no one to blame but themselves, nothing to do but question their own actions. there is nowhere to cast off their discomfort. meng yao didn’t do anything. lan xichen didn’t do anything -- he just thanked meng yao and drank his tea, isn’t that what it’s there for? he doesn’t disrupt the peace, he doesn’t attack anyone and put them on the defensive, but he does make his position very clear.

i know this is a really small thing and i’m probably beating it to death, but I really think this shows just how cognizant lan xichen is of politics and emotional cause and effect in such situations. certainly, out of context I think the scene reads kind of cliche, but within the greater narrative of the story and within the arc of these characters specifically, I think it was a really smart scene to include. it also showcases lan xichen’s style of action: that he moves around and with a problematic situation as opposed to moving straight through.

not to be salty on main again, but this is why it’s very frustrating to me when I see people call lan xichen passive when he is anything but. his actions just don’t look like traditional “actions”, especially to an american audience. it’s easy to understand lan wangji and wei wuxian’s style of problem-solving: taking a stand, moving through, staying strong. lan xichen is juggling an inconceivable number of factors in any given situation, weighing his responsibilities in one role against those in another, and then trying to find the path through the thicket that will cause the least harm, both to himself and the thicket. lan wangji and wei wuxian are not particularly good at considering the far-reaching consequences of their actions -- again, not because they are bad people, but because of a combination of personality and upbringing. they’d just hack through the thicket, not thinking about the creatures that live in it. that is not a terrible thing! it isn’t. it’s a different way of approaching a problem, and it has different priorities. that’s okay. there are advantages and disadvantages on both sides, and where you come down is going to depend on your personal values.

okay we’ve spiraled far and away from my original point, but let’s circle back: i was talking about class.

I think it’s undeniable that class, birthright, fate etc. are some of the driving forces of thematic conflict in mdzs, and the way each character interacts with those forces reveals a lot about themselves and also about the larger themes of fate, chance, and what it means to be righteous and good and how that is and isn’t rewarded. a lot of the tragedy of mdzs (the tragedy that isn’t caused by direct aggression on the part of one group or another) stems from the injustices and slights that people suffered due to their lot in life. it isn’t fair. none of it is fair! we sympathize with jin guangyao because we recognize that what he suffered was unconscionable, even if we don’t excuse him. i sympathize A Lot with xue yang as well for similar reasons, though I understand that’s a harder sell. this is a story focused on the mistakes of an entrenched, aging gentry and the effects that those mistakes had on their children, and a lot of it has to do with prejudice based in class and birth status. whether the prejudice was the true reason or whether it was just a convenient excuse, the fact remains that the systems in place rewarded and protected the people in power who used it to cling to that power. mdzs is also a story of how the circumstances of one’s life can offer you impossible choices that you cannot abstain from, and it asks us to be compassionate to the people who made terrible choices in terrible times. it’s about the inherent complexity in all things! that sometimes, there are no good choices, and i don’t know, i’d like to think that people would show me compassion if I had to make the choices some of these characters did. not just wei wuxian, mind you, every single one of them. except jin guangshan because I Do Hate Him sorry. and i guess wen ruohan. i think that’s it.

good. GOD this is clocking in at //checks notes -- just over 5k. 8′D *stuffs some weeds into my mouth like the clown i am*

(ko-fi? :’D *lies down*)

[volturiwolf]

Soulmates - A Demetri Volturi x Reader Imagine

A/N: This is the first imagine I finished and uploaded, and it came quite unexpectedly while talking with @volturidoll13 who suggested a Demetri Volturi one-shot where the reader would follow Bella and Alice to Italy and would accidentally say “wish he’d choke ME” out loud (see my post for reference). So, here it is. Also, I’m sorry if something doesn’t make sense. English is not my first langage. Enjoy :)

No of Words: 5749

Mentions of: Swear Language, Anxiety, Panic Attacks, Dying/Death, Killings, Self-doubt, Self-consciousness, Kinky Choking, Sexual Arousal

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I think I had enough of Bella. No, I know I've had enough of her. She may be my best friend, the one who truly understood me the moment I stepped foot in Forks High School, beginning of last year, but this was just too much.

I have spent countless hours trying to support her when Edward Cullen left her, 5 months ago. I was there to be her emotional support, and even spent time with Jacob Black, an old friend of Bella's, who stayed at the Quileute reservation.

Jacob seemed kind of polite, although his attempts to flirt with Bella whenever he could were cringy, to say the least. But I supported her then too, trying to be sort of the third wheel / the one who tried to show Jacob she wasn't really interested in him that way.

His friends, Embry and Quil, were as nice and polite as they were beautiful. When Embry abandoned Jacob and Quil, Bella and I were there to support him. When Jacob abandoned Bella, I was there to support her. 

Even when Bella was sad, angry and desperate to know what happened to Jacob, I was there to calm her down. I was there when she went to see him and he turned her away. I was there when she slapped Paul in the face. I was there when he turned into a huge wolf, and I couldn't help but scream.

Jacob explained everything about the wolves to both Bella and I. He told us how it's part of their DNA; how they are meant to protect the tribe from dangerous outsiders; how the metamorphosis from human to wolf can be somehow controlled over time, with practice and persistence. THAT I could understand.

What I couldn't understand was how vampires existed in this world! It wasn't Bella the one to reveal that secret to me, rather Alice, Edward's sister. Apparently, she saw Bella dying, the day she supposedly went cliff-diving, which I told her not to, having a severe fear of heights myself.

Bella took the risk, and if it weren't for Jacob, she would most likely be dead by now. That's what Alice said she "saw" - she explained to my incapable self that, as a vampire, she had a gift, the gift of predicting the future, based on others' decisions. 

All this information was overwhelming me. I could swallow the harsh reality of wolves existing, but vampires, too? It seemed too much for me in such a short period of time.

Alice quickly explained some basics to me, like the fact that the Cullens were vegetarians, but the majority of their kind fed on human blood, as well as the fact that they even had a sort-of-government of vampires, residing in Italy, the Volturi.

She then turned to Bella to scold her about her recklessness and how she was prone to "life-threatening idiocy". I couldn't agree more with the short brunette right now. Bella has been nothing but reckless the last few weeks, and she was putting her life in danger for no reason.

They were talking about Edward or whatever, but I wasn't paying any particular attention until Jacob showed up. I decided to give them some space to talk, and Alice followed behind me, stepping out of the house.

Her face was a mix of disgust and worry, not paying any particular attention to me, probably trying to hear Bella and Jacob's conversation from the kitchen. After a minute or two, I heard her taking a sharp breath, her eyes fixating on nothing in particular; they were just staring ahead of her.

She took a sharp breath, as she regained consciousness, stepping quickly into the house. She walked in quite wide and quick strides, considering her miniature figure, and, though taller than her, I had some trouble following behind her.

She ran directly to the kitchen. "Bella. Bella, it's Edward. He thinks you're dead. Rosalie told him why I came here."

They both looked at Jacob; Bella practically screaming to his face, accusing him of not giving her the telephone to speak with Edward herself.

"Bella, he's going to the Volturi. He wants to die, too." The small brunette continued.

Within a minute, Bella made her decision: she was going to Italy to save her ex-lover. She promised us that she would just make sure he lived, and then, she would go back to her "boring" life.

Alice ran outside, starting her car immediately, as Bella was followed closely by Jacob, who tried to convince her not to go, pleading with her, all in vain. Bella was as stubborn as she could get, and nobody could change her mind. 

I turned to Jacob, without really thinking about my next words. "Don't worry. I'll go with her. I'll make sure she's back safe, okay?"

All Jacob could do is nod at me, though his face was full of concern, frustration, and he was clearly distraught by Bella's decision to leave him and save Edward. As if all this time she, Jacob and, sometimes, I spent time together meant nothing to her.

I jumped in the back seat of the car, not waiting for either Bella's, or Alice's approval. I knew it would be a huge risk for me to go to the vampires' lair, but I also knew that Bella could use all the emotional support she could get. 

As much as I hated Edward for what he did and said to her, I knew that he was everything to her, like her own little haven. Her own little oasis, which I guess felt more like a tundra, compared to Jacob's flaming hot desert. I rolled my eyes at my embarrassing thoughts, but I assumed that's how she thought of them.

The drive to the airport felt like a ton of weight crushing my shoulders. I had no place to follow them to Italy, as it was truly none of my business. But I promised Jacob, and though Bella could make me so frustrated with her lack of self-confidence and self-respect, I liked her company a lot, and I needed to make sure she was alive and safe.

In the couple of months that she came out of her apathetic state, we reconnected again, reminiscing about our unorthodox friendship, both of us being new to the town, shy and not particularly sociable.

However, Bella was the ideal friend to keep you grounded and connected with reality, which I, sometimes, had trouble with; my mind was running wild and free most of the time, while my mouth was staying shut. 

So, I was willing to go across the ocean for her, to an unknown place, in a castle full of bloodsucking vampires. I wasn't pleased, but I was willing. Willing to help her save her stupid ex-boyfriend, and hopefully not get killed in the process.

During the flights, Alice tried, more or less, to explain the dynamics of the vampire world; the Volturi, being this sort of government-slash-royalty of the vampire kind, were tasked with imposing their laws over the other vampires. Their most important law? Don't expose your existence to humans, unless you want to die. Well, there goes that! 

Alice had already talked to me about their kind; Bella knew through her association with both Edward and the rest of the Cullen family. The chances of any of us making out of there alive seemed slim to none. I was literally flying towards my death. Cool. Cool. Cool. Cool. Cool. Cool. Cool. 

I was trying to calm down my nerves, which did not work at all, when all I could think about were those Italian vampires. Alice told me that the vampire Kings, especially Aro, who seemed to be their leader, were interested in collecting talented vampires. 

So, it was pretty obvious that he would, most likely, get rid of Bella and myself, and would gladly keep Alice and Edward, who, as Alice told me, has the gift of reading people’s minds. So, we were actually doing that Aro guy a favor there; bring him the “talents” and get rid of the “intruders”, the humans. Great. Just, great.

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We were currently on our way to Volterra. Alice had stolen a yellow Porsche from the airport’s parking lot, which neither Bella, nor I opposed to, for now. It was a fast way to get to Volterra, plus I’ve never actually been in a Porsche, and I felt pretty amazing. Alice seemed like a skillful driver, and drove pretty fast, which I liked, especially if I was the one driving. Bella and Alice’s conversation interrupted my thoughts.

“What? What do you see?”

“They refused him.” That was good, right?

“So..?” Bella knew there was something else behind Alice’s vision.

“He’s gonna make a scene. Show himself to the humans.” Why the hell, Edward?!

“No! When?”

“He’s gonna wait until noon, when the sun’s at its highest.” Bella seemed more and more worried and anxious, and I heard her heavy breath, which seemed like she was starting to go on panic mode. I stroked her shoulders lightly, trying to calm her down. As much as she deserved to get worried, given the events that led us here, this was not the time to panic.

“There’s Volterra.” Alice pointed to her left, at a beautiful, picturesque town that looked as if it had jumped out of the Renaissance era. The scenery of Tuscany was beautiful, and it had always been part of my bucket list to travel across Tuscany in a small rental car. That was not how I pictured that trip, or how I pictured my last day on Earth.

Alice was running through the city’s narrow streets by now, never stopping to honk at people passing by, who moved left and right, trying to avoid the “crazy driver who decided it was a good idea to drive a sports car through such a city’s small, narrow, occupied streets”; at least, that’s how I saw it.

Alice did not back down, and continued driving skillfully through the city’s small arteries. It was odd though, the fact that everyone around us was wearing red capes, red clothes, everything was red. Bella questioned it out loud and Alice informed us that today was the celebration of Saint Marcus’ Day, the day that the Saint expelled all vampires from the town. The irony.

Bella was experiencing a full on panic attack, as we were only 5 minutes away from Edward’s shenanigans. Theoretically, everything was in order, until the moment we were stopped by the local police who refused to let us go any farther. Bella opened her door. She would go on foot, to find Edward before he exposed himself. Alice would park the car somewhere outside of the town’s walls, and we’d then go and find them.

I turned around my seat, to watch Bella running through the streets, to the plaza where the clock tower, which Edward was going to expose himself from, was located. Alice left the car outside of the walls, but still, close enough to have easy access. 

For me, it was quite easy to walk around now, as my skin was not sparkling like Alice’s was. Alice had to wrap herself around a coat, a long, thick scarf and gloves, and wear sunglasses to protect her identity even more. I was walking in the middle of the streets, watching around carefully, as good as my human eyes could see, trying to help Alice go unnoticed, as she pushed herself more towards the buildings’ walls, trying to avoid the sunlight. 

That went on for a while, until we were close enough to the clock tower, where Alice took my hand on hers and, with long strides, walked towards the main entrance, which was, thankfully, shaded enough for her to walk through. 

She must have heard the conversation inside the building, as the moment we stepped in - Alice breaking the lock that kept the door momentarily closed, she started talking to the others, who I mistook as being Bella and Edward. As another sign of my unluckiness in life, she was actually addressing two other vampires, a tall brunette and a shorter blond.

They both looked gorgeous, but they could probably kill me as easily as it was for me to blink. I instantly became stiff, and Alice must have felt it, but she kept on holding my hand, trying to play it cool in front of the others, while trying to get rid of her disguise with her free hand at the same time.

“Come on, guys. It’s a festival. You wouldn’t want to make a scene.” She tried to play it nice and cool, though I knew she was just as worried being here as the rest of us.

“We wouldn’t.” The brunette vampire responded, now looking at me, who, by now, I have lost all my confidence in coming to Italy to help Bella.

I caught the blond vampire looking me up and down my body, and felt rather self-conscious. I didn’t have the best relationship with my own body and my own self; I didn’t like what I saw in the mirror, most of the time. So, I made up for what I lacked in self-confidence with sarcasm, bad humor, honesty and snarky remarks. I would be really going off of him right now, if I wasn’t shaking.

Though beautiful, the blond vampire also scared me, just as much as his brunette partner. I stared back at him, looking at his confident stance, one hand behind his back, and a smirk across his face. 

When my (Y/E/C) eyes met with his red ones, I started shivering even more, holding on Alice tighter than before. I felt my heart beating faster, my breath became both sharper and deeper, and I felt as if I would cry, right then and there, in front of everyone. I saw the blond becoming a bit stiff, his jaw clenching, swallowing deeply, but he still wouldn’t take his eyes off of me.

Alice and Edward exchanged some looks, as if they knew what was happening, but chose to not tell anyone else. The scene in front of me was interrupted by the clicks of heeled shoes, and a blonde girl came into our view. 

“Enough.” Her voice was stern, and her stance was stoic as she came closer to us.

“Jane.” Edward recognised her and lowered his head towards the ground. He didn’t seem scared before, when it was just the two vampires in front of us, but the small woman now seemed to have him terrified.

“Aro sent me to see what was taking so long.” She looked between the two vampires of her coven, as if she was criticizing them for their incompetence to bring us all before Aro. Then, she turned to us, looking us straight in our eyes, or rather our souls, probably to warn and scare us at the same time, before walking back to where she came from. 

Alice turned towards Bella and I, the only humans there, who clearly looked more terrified than she and Edward did. “Just do as she says.” She simply said and we followed behind the girl, with the other two vampires closely behind us. 

The blond one was so close to me, I could feel the coldness radiating off his body, making me shiver. The brunette gave Edward the red robe I didn’t notice he was holding before, probably to cover himself in front of the Kings. The blonde girl moved between Bella and Edward, and Alice and I. Edward was trying to comfort Bella but I couldn’t exactly make out what they were saying, my mind making all shorts of scenarios about how the vampires would kill me and the others. The more I thought about it, the more I was shriveling on Alice’s side. 

We reached an elevator - I never thought vampires used elevators, but maybe it was for the humans around? The brunette and the blond entered first, as the blond turned around to stare at us, turning his gaze at me afterwards, before fully stepping in. Then, it was time for Edward and Bella to get in, followed by Alice and I. The blonde girl stepped in last, before the elevator’s doors closed shut.

The elevator music, an operetta, was supposed to calm peoples’ nerves. Yet, in this tight box, it had the opposite effect. Surrounded by vampires, vegetarian and non, the music was just creeping me out. 

The fact that the blond vampire was merely two inches away from me was making my knees weak and my heart pounding, though I, myself, didn’t even know if my own body was reacting out of fear or attraction towards the blond vampire. I felt him leaning closer to me and barely heard him sniff around, but I clearly saw Alice turning her head around and giving him death stares, to which he retrieved back to his original position.

The elevator stopped and we all stepped out. We walked past a receptionist’s desk, the woman standing up, smiling and wishing us a good afternoon - based on the few Italian that I knew. From what Bella and Edward said, the receptionist was a human, wishing to become a vampire, like the others.

“And so she will be.” Demetri smirked, looking at me, who I still haven't abandoned Alice’s hand.

“Or dessert.” Jane interrupted, and I felt myself losing consciousness for a split second, before I felt the blond vampire grabbing my arm to stabilize me. His hand was cold and his grip tight on me, not leaving me even after I looked at him with wide eyes. He just smiled and continued walking ahead.

Jane opened the doors in front of her, leading us to a massive room, made out of marble, and decorated with Roman columns and scriptures on the walls. Surprisingly, it was well-lit and bright, compared to the dark halls that we passed through just a minute ago.

“Sister. Send you out to get one and you bring back two. And two halves. Such a clever girl.” A brunette boy, a bit taller than Jane, called towards her, as she walked by his side.

The blond vampire let me go and walk farther into the room, still holding Alice’s hand like I was holding on her for dear life. The blond vampire now stood a few feet behind us, next to the tall brunette one.

A black-haired vampire, who seemed a bit too excited, started walking towards us. “What a happy surprise! Bella is alive after all. Isn’t that wonderful. I love a happy ending. They are so rare.” He was talking with fake happiness in his face, as if he was reading from a script, grabbing Edward’s hand in the process.

“La tua cantante.” Your singer. The vampire seemed to know how much Edward craved Bella’s blood, and questioned how Edward could do so easily. 

“Aro can read every thought I’ve ever had with one touch.” Well, that explained a lot. And now I placed who Aro was within the Volturi.

I now learned more about Edward’s gift, which was more similar to Aro’s than anyone else’s, but he couldn’t actually read Bella’s thoughts. Aro requested if he could test his own gift on Bella, probably hoping that he could read her thoughts and brag about it. But when Bella offered her hand, which he took too willingly, his face was unreadable and then, disappointed and angry, not being able to read her either.

Then, he turned towards me, still by Alice’s side. His red eyes were cold and hostile, and his face uninviting. I felt small and vulnerable, exposed, in front of his critical gaze.

“Dear (Y/N), excuse me for the waiting. Edward has presented me a very..intriguing image of you. Could you offer me your hand? I would like to get to know you, as well.”

My lips were trembling, not being able to say a word, and my eyes were glistening. Please, don’t cry. Please, don’t cry. I knew that whatever Edward had shown him I couldn’t avoid. So, I took a step forward, leaving Alice’s hand and extending the other one towards Aro. I felt a breeze behind me, as Demetri came to stand on my right side, looking closely between Aro and I.

The mind reader took my hand between his hands, and I felt my thoughts being examined and tossed around my head, like a small whisper trying to cast a spell on me. The vampire looked at me, deep in the eyes, and his face was filled with fascination for whatever he saw inside my head.

“Fascinating, indeed, dear. Your mind is just filled with thoughts and images, though they are not very distinct. You are not an easy book to read. I still haven’t figured out who you really are. Although…”. He looked at the vampire standing beside me, motioning for him to give him his hand.

The blond obeyed his master. Did he have any other choice? Probably not. Aro took the blond’s hand, and his wicked, sick smile came back.

“Oh, this suddenly became even better than I would have expected.” He turned towards the vampire sitting on the throne, looking sad. Marcus? The vampire in question nodded, and Aro turned around in an almost theatrical move, with open arms, for everyone to see. 

“It seems that our dear Demetri has finally found his mate in (Y/N). I’m so happy for the two of you!” His face was smiling, but his voice sounded as fake as ever. 

I didn’t know what “mates” meant. Alice didn’t have enough time to explain every “vampire term” to me, so I was clueless regarding this part. The blond, who I now knew as Demetri, must have seen the confusion in my face, as he leaned slightly towards me and whispered “Soulmates” in my ear. My eyes widened and he giggled lightly.

Whether it was how close he came near me, or his giggle, or the fact that we were “soulmates”, my heart responded immediately, thumbing faster in my chest, and I felt my cheeks burn - I was clearly blushing in front of everyone, as if I couldn’t be any more awkward than I was before.

Aro interrupted my embarrassment, as he turned once again towards Bella, wanting to test if she was immune to the others’ gifts as well. He turned towards the blonde girl, Jane, asking her basically to show off her own gift. Edward ran forward to stop whatever it was going to happen, only to end up in pain, writhing in an inaudible pain, as Bella was practically screaming to stop.

I honestly didn’t mind Edward suffering, even if it was for a few seconds, considering that Bella had it worse for over 5 months. He finally dropped to the floor, as Alice ran to his side, and the blonde girl’s brother ran to grab Bella, to stop her from going by her lover’s side.

I had no idea what was happening. I was just looking around, shocked and scared, as all these unfamiliar things were taking place in front of my untrained eyes. I felt a hand stroking my arm up and down. I turned around to see Demetri smiling slightly at me, trying to calm me down. I sighed a bit and felt my heart slightly at ease.

That was until the Kings decided that Bella was a liability - I wasn’t? - and Aro called out for Felix. I turned around and saw the tall brunette smiling evilly, while the shorter brunette turned Bella around and left her there, exposed, in front of the giant. Edward seemed to know what it would be happening, as he immediately stood up and ran by Bella’s side to protect her.

He immediately ran forward, attacking the tall brunette, and knocking him down. Alice ran towards Edward to help him out, but she was immediately stopped by Demetri, who I didn’t notice had left my side, grabbing her by her neck and immobilizing her, dragging her away from ever reaching her brother. 

“Alec!” Demetri shouted towards the brunette boy, who had just left Bella at Felix’s mercy, pointing towards me with his eyes. The boy, Alec, came by my side, and practically dragged me farther from the scene that took place in front of me. His grip was a bit too much as he squeezed my arm, making me slightly cry in pain. Demetri growled at him, and Alec’s grip loosened significantly, but he still kept his hand on my arm.

Felix was pissed by now, as he immediately started fighting Edward, pushing and slamming him around the room. However, I couldn’t focus my gaze on them; not because they were fast, but because I was focused on watching Demetri, and how he was still holding on Alice’s neck tightly, never letting her go.

Watching Demetri’s hand around Alice’s neck should have made me feel appalled and sorry for the small brunette girl, but it didn’t. On the contrary, I felt rather aroused, watching his strong hand wrapped around the brunette’s neck. 

Honestly, I felt a wave of jealousy and annoyance hitting me. That should have been me! Only I was worthy to be touched by this sort of demon who masked his true identity with the facade of an angel. It should be me! I couldn’t help myself, my jealousy building up inside me. 

“Wish he’d choke ME!” I told myself, getting more frustrated by the minute.

“Patience, cara mia. All in due time.” Demetri smirked at me. I did not realise I said that out loud, until Alec started snorting beside me, clearly laughing cheekily, and Felix started bursting in laughter, his grip tight on Edward’s jaw by now.

I had embarrassed myself in a room full of vampires once again, the majority of them being part of the Volturi coven. If the Earth opened in half and swallowed me, I would pretty much welcome it at that point.

Bella brought me back to reality, as she was practically screaming, begging the vampires to let go of Edward, as she looked clearly distraught and upset. She even offered herself instead of Edward! Why, Bella? Just why? I have understood by now that they were mates and they’d do anything for each other, but she would sacrifice her own life for Edward?! That didn’t make sense to me.

Aro seemed to agree with me, but he thought more of the “soulless monster” perspective, while I thought more of Edward’s character, and how much his absence had scarred Bella. Alice told me, on our way here, that he thought he was doing everything to keep her away just to protect her, that being close to him put her in danger. But, from my own experience with Bella, she was suffering more away from him than he thought she would.

Aro looked disappointed between Edward and Bella, wishing he would give her immortality, which he did not seem willing to do. Aro moved menacingly towards the terrified girl, prepared to end her life. I fell forwards, attempting to reach her, to move in between them, but Alec’s grip tightened, keeping me back, both of his hands on my arms now. Aro was basically licking his lips, when, suddenly, Alice stopped him. 

The small brunette confirmed that Bella would become a vampire like them, and that she would even be the one to change her, as she saw in her vision. Aro called her forward, and Demetri let her walk towards his Master. 

He then moved towards Alec and I, replacing the brunette boy, but, instead of grabbing my arms like Alec did, he embraced me tightly, not letting me move away from my position. His cold embrace sent shivers down my spine, but, surprisingly, I let myself relax in his arms, feeling safe, and like that was where I belonged. I felt him smiling and relaxing, as well.

Aro seemed pleased with whatever Alice had shown him, and intrigued by her own gift of predicting the future. Alice had told me that her gift was subjected to the decisions people made, and the future could just change at any point. However, if Aro believed that her vision would eventually come true, we had no reason to tell him otherwise. 

Aro turned to Bella. “Your gifts will make for an intriguing immortal.” He whispered as he touched her face, Bella clearly feeling uncomfortable under his touch. I would, too - Aro seemed creepy in his own way, his behavior and movements just as unpredictable.

He then told us to leave, and prepare for Bella’s transformation, and Felix let go of Edward. Marcus told everyone that a woman named Heidi would be coming soon and thanked us “for the visit”, as Aro said his goodbyes. Demetri walked towards the exit, me still in his arms. Edward grabbed Bella by her hand and Alice followed them behind.

As we were walking through the corridor, a beautiful woman walked past us, many people - they looked like tourists - following behind her. She had long, wavy brown hair and purple eyes, which could only mean that she was most likely wearing blue contacts over her red eyes. Her aura was full of confidence and power; she knew what she was doing and she took her job seriously.

“Nice fishing, Heidi.” I heard Demetri addressing the woman from behind me. So, that was the Heidi Marcus was referring to. Wait.. Nice..what?

“Yes, they do look rather juicy.” The beautiful woman replied, eyeing between Bella and I, as she continued leading the tourists down the hallway.

Demetri must have seen her reaction, as he brought me closer to him. I was in shock, and started trembling more than before. These people, these poor people would be the vampires’ snacks in a few seconds. Like Bella and I could have been just minutes ago. I tried to not think about it, but the screams that echoed through the hall would probably haunt me for the rest of my life.

Demetri opened another door as we approached the end of the corridor, and we found ourselves back in the reception area. The Italian woman greeted us once again, but I didn’t listen to what she said, still in shock, just waiting to leave this horrible place as soon as I could.

“Just wait here. You will be able to leave in a few hours, when it’s dark outside.” Demetri instructed Edward and Alice, and took his arms away from my body, turning to look at me. “Wait here, cara mia. I’ll be back soon.” I nodded, not being able to say a word.

Demetri turned and ran towards the throne room. I knew he left to feed, and I just couldn’t bear the thought of him killing innocent humans. I couldn’t keep myself from crying, as I started trembling and losing balance. 

Alice came by my side, trying to stabilize and calm me down, while Edward tried calming down a hyperventilating Bella. We were both losing our sanity, not being able to keep up with the Volturi’s lifestyle, as it seemed. I was craving Demetri’s touch but, at the same time, I couldn’t stop the human in me, the logic, the sense that said that I should stay away from the vampires who killed people. 

I heard Alice and Edward talking with the receptionist, but I couldn’t make out exactly what they were talking about. Alice, slowly and carefully, with her hands still on my arms, led me to a nearby bench, as the receptionist walked away. I was rocking back and forth, trying to calm down, realizing that we are still alive. I saw the receptionist coming towards us, offering a glass of water to both Bella and I.

“Grazie mille.” I thanked her, my voice barely audible.

“Prego.” She smiled at me, and walked back towards her desk.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I didn’t realise how much time passed, until I heard footsteps coming towards us. I was way more calm by now. Lifting my head towards the direction of the footsteps, I saw Demetri and Felix. I shyly smiled at Demetri, and he smiled back, with a smile wider than mine, a smile that warmed my heart.

“Hello, again, amore mio.” I felt as if my heart stopped for a split second upon hearing the words he used to address me. I would still be weak to my knees, if I didn't already sit down.

Felix was the one to inform us that we were allowed to go now, being way past nighttime. I stood up, and attempted to walk forward, towards Bella and the two Cullen siblings. I intended to leave with them, but I was stopped by Demetri’s hand on my wrist.

“Where are you going, cara?” He looked at me, knowing why I was attempting to walk away.

“I.. I thought we’d.. be leaving? That I’d be leaving? With the others?” At least, I was hoping I would be leaving with them. 

“I’m sorry, amore. I can’t let you go, not now that I found you. You’ll be staying here, with me.” Demetri sounded so natural and serious, and I could only stare at him, my mouth agape.

“But.. I thought it was okay for me to leave. I have a life behind, you know. I have a school to finish, I have my family, I have things to do.” I still looked at him dumbfounded, waiting for him to allow me to go, just for now, just for a few months at least.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). But I cannot risk anything happening to you. I will make sure you are safe and protected here. We will arrange everything with your school and your family, and whatever else is needed. Please, stay.” Demetri’s eyes were pleading, and a shiver passed through my body, just by looking at him and hearing him talk.

It took me a few minutes to respond; nobody said a word all this time. “Okay.” I said faintly. “I will stay.. here.. with you.”

Demetri’s face lit up, and he leaned closer to me, wrapping his arms around me. He was careful to not hurt me, and I knew, at the moment, with my heart full of love and affection for that man, that that was where I was supposed to be. With Demetri. For as long as it lasted.  

[aminiatureworld]

Injury II

Characters: Kaeya, Ningguang, Xiao, Zhongli, gn!reader

Word Count: 5,650

Warnings: Various injuries, blood, burns, minor villain death

Premise: Sometimes the pain of others can hurt even more than one’s own. In which the reader is injured.

Author’s Note: Okay so after the mind numbing fear of my computer almost dying and now maybe emitting a weird smell I’m five seconds away from pure panic. But the show much go on! Even if my word document keeps blacking out.

This is my first time writing for Ningguang! I hope I do my girl justice, she’s voiced by my fav VA, she’s a total powerhouse, I love her so much. 

I tried to make all of the injuries personal to each character in some way. Funny enough Zhongli’s was the hardest to figure out. I eventually settled upon the act of you being injured causing Zhongli’s personal angst, rather than the cause of the injury. I hope it came out well!

Kaeya

Kaeya didn’t often let himself fall into fear. Not since he’d been young did he feel that he could indulge in such a sentiment. True to his vision he’d frozen that part of himself, and now when panic seized him he could feel nothing but stone cold determination, and the need to continue forward without hesitation. Fear was hardly alien to him, he could conjure up the emotion all too well, but it had been dulled and replaced by cynicism and coldness. And occasionally guilt.

Looking back on it Kaeya wasn’t even sure why the two of you had strayed so close to Dragonspine, so close snowflakes were congregating in your hair.

You’d called him a winter fairy in jest at the time, wondering if he wasn’t truly the ruler of that mountain of frost. He’d laughed then, before threatening to take you away to his fairy court. “That would be quite an easy task.” You’d replied. “You’ve already captured my heart after all.”

The two of you were strolling on the rocks that lined the river which separated Dragonspine from the greater Monstadt area. Although adventurers usually roamed the area in the daytime it was now evening, and the lack of people certainly made up for the cold in Kaeya’s mind. He could only be his true self around you after all. Otherwise it was the charming and slick Cavalry Captain, a man who always knew what to say and never harbored any doubts in his mind. Not that he wasn’t still charming around you, he loved seeing you blush from his effusive praise, loved the way you buried your head in his shoulder if the flirting and the teasing ramped up enough. But there was a sincerity to his words that one couldn’t find normally in Kaeya, and he loved to show you bits and pieces of his soul, relieved to finally have someone to talk to.

“Watch your step.” You warned, grabbing onto Kaeya’s hand as he slid a little ways along a rock.

“Thank you darling, although I daresay I’m more worried about you. After all who’s the snow fairy here and who’s the wind sprite, liable to blow away at any moment?”

“So cheesy.” You mumbled, shaking your head, though Kaeya could’ve sworn your cheeks were slightly redder than they were a few moments ago. Laughing he wrapped his arm around your waist. You snuggled into his fur lined coat. “Cold.” You murmured, though you made no move to disconnect yourself. Kaeya smiled and brought his other hand around you in a soft embrace.

“Sorry my dearest, but you’re in love with an icicle.”

“Only terms of magic.” You shot back. “Otherwise you’re a nice warm fire. And don’t you forget that.”

The two of you headed a little ways down, closer to the river. A small group of frost flowers had made it to this side of the banks, and you were adamant on picking some. “They’re so beautiful!” You explained to Kaeya. “And incredibly strong, I can’t believe they managed to grow in that permafrost. They’re simply lovely.”

“Just be careful.” Kaeya commented, standing a little ways back. He didn’t like getting near the river, a river so cold it was always at nearly freezing at the bottom. Cold water and a vision of Cryo didn’t mix well.

“I’ll be fine.” You hopped to your feet, a bouquet of pale blue in your hand. You were smiling from your victory, face full of light and happiness.

It was an expression that changed swiftly as you lost your balance and plummeted into the freezing waters.

Immediately Kaeya leapt down from the rocks he was standing on, kneeling near where you were standing a moment ago. The river wasn’t very fast, bogged down by its width and how far it was away from the waterfalls in the warmer parts of Monstadt. Still it cut off very quickly, having barely the semblance of a beach before opening into a deep chasm, and anyone who fell in it would quickly fall into cold shock. Already your limbs had started seizing, and you were hyperventilating hard. Your arms felt like dead weight, and every second that passed your head dipped lower into the freezing water.

Kaeya gingerly put his hand out to make a platform of ice for him to stand on. Whatever happened he couldn’t fall in as well, it would mean the death of you two. Fear had reared its ugly head again and Kaeya twisted those feelings into action. No matter what he had to act fast and sure. Hesitation was fatal.

Plunging his hand into the water, sucking in a deep breath as the ice that still coated his palms and fingers made contact with the freezing river Kaeya hauled you up onto the icy platform. Taking off his coat he wrapped you up. Removing your gloves so the frozen water wouldn’t be in contact with your already freezing skin Kaeya cursed as he ran towards Springvale, the nearest place he could think of. He’d lugged you onto his back, and could feel the freezing water through his shirt. As he ran he kept up a stream of slightly shaky conversation, rattling off what little he knew of hypothermia.

“It’ll be alright darling, I promise it’ll be alright. You’re just going through shock right now, okay? You’ll be alright, I promise. Just stay awake a little while longer. I know you must be tired from all that excitement, but just stay awake a little longer, just a little longer and then you’ll be nice and warm, just stay awake right now okay?” His voice became more and more desperate as his fear started to tumble out of his grasp, but he kept moving. He wouldn’t lose control of himself now, not until you were safe.

Finally he arrived at Springvale and you’d been rushed to the village doctor. Kaeya was told to go and wait somewhere else, and preferably change out of his freezing cold shirt, but you’d grabbed his hand as he turned to leave and after that he refused to budge, instead borrowing a shirt from the village. He’d reimburse the people who let you two borrow their clothes later.

The entire process was a terrifying one, as you were slowly brought back to warmth. Kaeya took the opportunity to learn as much as he could, noting that you shouldn’t massage limbs back to warmth for fear of heart attack and – much to his chagrin he later joked when the situation was far enough in the past – alcohol was too much of a depressant on your system and could lead to death. All throughout he kept talking to you, even though there were times you didn’t seem to hear, times when he thought his heart would split in two.

Still it was evident you were going to survive and when you’d finally finished being warmed up Kaeya thought he could cry in relief, if only he’d been numbed from such an act for so many years. You’d run into some sort of rock in the water, and the long gash down the side of your leg was later determined by the doctor to reveal torn muscle. It’d take about a month and a half for you to recover. Kaeya thought he should’ve felt worse about it, but in the moment he felt nothing but relief, utter relief in the knowledge you were going to be fine. Utter relief that came with having almost lost you.

Kaeya had carried you back to Monstadt, much to your consternation. All the ways back you mumbled about how his penchant for drama seemed to have increased tenfold. Kaeya simply shook his head, not bothering to ask how you would’ve gotten back otherwise with your leg in the shape it was. Still it was a relief to both of you to see the city walls. Even more of a relief when you finally arrived home, safe and sound.

“I’m so glad you were there.” You confessed as Kaeya sat you down on the couch, propping up your leg and pulling a chair up next to you. “I don’t know what I would’ve done had I fallen and you weren’t there.”

“You probably wouldn’t have been there in the first place.” Kaeya remarked, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. You brought your hand up to his cheek and he leaned into it slightly, grateful for the contact between you two. It’d been hours but the panic that he’d felt still tugged at his consciousness, as if any moment you might slip away again and leave him panicked and alone.

“Were you afraid?” You asked.

“Of course I was afraid.” Kaeya’s reply came swift and sure. “I was terrified, terrified in a way that I haven’t been in years.” Kaeya’s eyes clouded over, as if reaching deep into his memories. He brought your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles and then your palm. “I thought that you might die, and in that moment I was ready to curse the world all over again.”

“But I didn’t die.” You said solemnly.

“No, you didn’t.”

“And that’s because of you. Because you reacted quickly, because you had the magic with which to do so, and most of all because you never hesitated. And because of that I’m alive and well now. Injuries aside I’ll be fine. I promise.”

Kaeya knew you were right. You were alive. You weren’t going to go where he couldn’t follow. The fear coiling in his stomach began to subside. He’d been so afraid, yes, and in that fear he’d managed to find the strength and determination to save you. But now you were safe and he no longer needed to rely on that strength; he could give into his relief. Realizing this, realizing how frightened he’d been and how that was now part of a past he could move forward from, could truly forget, Kaeya could only marvel at his relief. Only then did the tears begin to fall.

 Ningguang

If there was one thing Ningguang wasn’t expecting out of today it was your leg collapsing and her winding up in the waiting room of the Liyue hospital, mind replaying the last week or so, wondering where she might’ve realized something was wrong.

It seemed like the kind of thing Keqing would make a joke about. Here Ningguang was, the Tianquan of the Liyue Qixing, the most powerful woman in the trade capital of Liyue; here she was, her world completely gone awry, completely shattered by your injury.

A stress fracture, the doctor had said. It was the kind of injury that developed slowly and came about after weeks instead of in moments. The initial strain was usually something mundane, a sprain, a bruise, maybe you’d walked on your foot for too long. But after sometimes weeks of ignoring pain and swelling your body couldn’t take it any longer. Ten weeks, that’s how long you would be laid up. And Ningguang couldn’t help but feel every one of those ten weeks was her fault.

She should’ve noticed it. That train of thought continued all throughout the process of you being treated at, and eventually discharged from, the hospital. You weren’t just one of the people she worked with daily, weren’t just her closest colleague. You were the person that Ningguang loved more than anything in this world. How could she possibly not have noticed the signs?

Ningguang found herself obsessively trying to connect the warning signs that must’ve been there. She knew that your foot had been aching for some time, but though she’d been vaguely concerned she’d said nothing other than a simple “be careful”. She’d never thought to check after you later, sure that it was nothing. Now she felt nothing but shame, both that of a personal and of a greater kind. How could she manage looking after all of Liyue if she couldn’t even look after you?

You noticed Ningguang’s silence as you two made your way out of the hospital and towards the apartment you shared. Although Ningguang was perhaps seen as a reticent individual you’d found her surprisingly open, always ready to discuss things that were of interest either to you or to her. She wasn’t the kind of person to walk along in silence; not when she was around those that she cared for, not unless she was thinking about something important, not unless…

Finally you two arrived home. You collapsed on the couch, tired and ready to either read or nap. Ningguang was preparing some tea and a various array of fruit, not that there was much food in the lavish apartment you two shared. Considering the workload between the both of you it was perhaps unsurprising that there was nothing much to eat. That would have to change, Ningguang noted; she’d make sure that you were recovering in the most comfortable way possible. It was the least she could do.

“Are you feeling well?” Ningguang asked, placing the food and tea on the table in your room. You nodded.

“I feel fine, although I’m not looking forward to the walk to the Qixing headquarters. I have to admit dear this might be the only time I’m a bit glad that I don’t have to make my way to the Jade Chamber every day.” Ningguang smiled at that, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She sat silently, sipping her tea slowly. Your expression clouded over. “Hey, can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Oh it’s nothing my love.” Ningguang spoke up quickly, leaning over and kissing you on the cheek. “I’m just sorry to see you like this.”

“Well you can’t blame yourself. You know that, right?”

Ningguang found she couldn’t bring herself to lie to you. Your gaze, though soft, seemed to pierce right through all her excuses and all her bluffing. She sighed softly. Maybe it would be better to be upfront about it, clear and concise, how one should always be. At least then she could apologize properly.

“In truth I do blame myself. I can’t believe I was so neglectful of your health, so blind to your pain.” She shook her head, staring at the hand that was holding yours. A disconnected part of her thought of how well the two fit together, fingers intertwined softly, your palm warm and comforting.

“If you were blind to this then so was I.” You spoke softly but firmly, refusing to sugar coat your words. Ningguang admired you for it, even if she didn’t believe you, something painfully clear in the expression on her face. “You cannot blame yourself.” You continued, “I won’t let you. I don’t want you beating yourself up for something that neither of us predicted. If you feel the need to blame yourself for this you must also blame me; I was the one walking on the injury without paying enough attention.”

“But – ” Ningguang paused, realizing the truth behind your words, slouching slightly she sat in deep thought. “I… I realize there’s not a lot of logic behind my thinking.”

“Well feelings are hardly logical.” You pointed out, squeezing her hand. “And because they’re illogical they don’t go away quickly. But I at least want you to try and combat your guilt with what I’ve told you. Because just like you hate seeing me in this cast I hate seeing you in pain.”

Ningguang nodded, heart filled with a deep sense of love and tenderness. Leaning over to give you a kiss she smiled softly. You did too. For a moment you two basked in each other’s presence and happiness, before you smile turned mischievous.

“Although… I won’t object to a little pampering.” Ningguang chuckled, shaking her head. But her smile was real this time, and you wouldn’t ask for anything more.

“You’re lucky I love you so much.”

“I know I am.” You replied. “And you’re lucky I adore you.”

“I am.” Ningguang’s reply was just as sure, was full of quiet but strong emotion. She was lucky. And she would never take you or your love for granted. No matter what.

 Xiao

By the time he’d met you Xiao had long come to the conclusion that he’d never find it in him to like humans.

Humans were dirty, they were untrustworthy and full of darkness, they broke things without thinking about it, mangled their own people, their own families and friends and countrymen. Humans slaughtered one another without thinking of how it might stain them, and when they weren’t killing they were stealing and lying and ruining the land around them. How could he, a being designed solely to destroy the darkness in the world, ever find in himself the will or the ability to look past all that?

When he’d met you and had fallen in love in earnest this view had still changed ultimately very little. But even if you’d admitted that what he said was mostly true, you’d found that you still wanted him to learn to care at least a little bit about humanity. I mean you were ultimately one of them at your core. It didn’t feel right to prop yourself up as the one great exception, not when there were other people who were certainly like you in mind and in morality. Xiao silently disagreed with this analysis; to him there never was and never would be someone like you, in all of Teyvat. Still, he felt compelled to try, though  more for your sake than for his, and as the weeks had gone on he’d begun to look at humanity not with any sort of respect or hope but with a sort of begrudging curiosity, and an admittance that maybe, just maybe, there was a bit of that light you saw in it.

What a fool he’d been.

Although Xiao was aware of the growing threat of treasure hoarders across Liyue – so widespread that they’d even managed to eat away at the tranquil lands surrounding Jueyen Karst – he’d never considered them a serious threat. So when the two of you accidentally ran into a group of them while exploring some of the older Liyue ruins Xiao didn’t bother to do much more than wrap an arm around your waist, sure that even the most idiotic of treasure hoarders wouldn’t be so foolish as to pick a fight with either an adeptus or their beloved. You seemed unfazed at any rate, explaining that the two of you were simply passing by and had no desire to pick a fight; if they’d be so kind the two of you would be on your way.

Perhaps the treasure hoarders were well aware of the fact that you could report them to the Liyue Qixing. Perhaps they were simply in a bad mood. Either way your words apparently did nothing. Xiao was becoming tenser and tenser, feeling as if something catastrophic was about to happen. That moment came to pass when one of the treasure hoarders pulled out a knife and threw it, lodging itself with deadly accuracy into your torso.

At that point Xiao felt himself overcome with a supernatural sort of calm, a calm which raced to cover up the anguish and rage that was coursing through him, threatening to burn him from the inside out. He only paused to make sure you didn’t hit the ground hard, before summoning his spear. Ignoring the cries of the treasure hoarders he made quick work of disposing of them, for what was a measly human, a piece of trash, when compared to that which had slayed countless demons? A small part of him cried out against the act, pointing out the fact that every time he wielded his polearm to kill it might bring him closer to the precipice, the fact that you were hurt mattered more than revenge, the fact that he was going to regret killing in front of you. He ignored it. At that moment there was nothing in his mind, it was as empty and staid as a clear pool of water. The only ripple in it was the way you’d jolted back in surprised, and the way you’d let out a cry before crumpling.

Xiao didn’t look back to see the havoc he’d wreaked. Instead he ran to your side. Peeling off his gloves, worried that they might bring infection, he pressed his bare hands to your wound, desperately trying to staunch the blood that was spilling out, ignoring the shocks that jolted through his hands, the result of the dagger somehow being infused with electro. The feeling of blood, your blood, beneath his fingers was nauseating, and for a moment Xiao felt his head filling with static as the pure panic that he’d felt began to overcome the initial rush of adrenaline. Snapping out of it when you let out a groan of pain Xiao looked into your eyes. They were clouded, and for a moment the adeptus was afraid you might be on the verge of passing out – had you really lost so much blood? Holding you tightly, one hand never leaving your wound, Xiao summoned a burst of air. His thoughts were still too chaotic to be processed, there was only one thing connecting them all. Let them live. If there’s any justice in this world, please let them live.

Verr Goldet had grasped the situation as soon as she saw Xiao appear on the balcony, face contorted in fear. Taking you to her room, she’d instructed Xiao to get one of the doctors from Liyue while she and the resident apothecary took care of you. Xiao did the task without thinking, and once he’d arrived with the doctor he refused to leave your side. Xiao knew death better than most adepti, certainly more than most humans. It was cold and unfeeling, and had a nasty habit of leaping onto people when they least expected it. It didn’t matter to him that all three, Goldet, the apothecary, and the doctor, said that you would be fine; Xiao was going to be there the entire time.

Eventually you managed to rouse yourself from the pain induced stupor, and when you did you saw Xiao first, eyes wide with fear and relief, tears threatening to spill down his face.

In the end you’d been lucky. Although the dagger had ruptured your spleen Xiao had acted quickly enough to avert catastrophe. You were going to survive, though it’d be 12 weeks most likely until you were completely recovered. The moment of crisis having passed the two of you were finally given a moment alone.

“Are you alright?” Xiao immediately asked. You didn’t make a move to answer, instead cupping Xiao’s cheek before moving to take his hand. At that moment how Xiao remembered. Oh; the blood. Quickly moving away he ran to the nearest basin of water, scrubbing furiously. As the water turned red a faint smell of iron filled the air; it was the most disgusting thing Xiao had ever smelt, and he scrubbed even harder. You waited silently as he finished cleaning his hands and disposing of the water. Finally he came back to sit next to you, still hesitating a moment before placing his palm in yours.

“I… I don’t understand how you could ever like humans.” That was the first thing Xiao could think of. “They betrayed you. Without even blinking. That man, all those men and women, they would’ve ended your life without even thinking about it. They would’ve killed you and lived without ever having such a thing weigh on their conscience. Humans never think about the weight of their sins. They just keep committing atrocities.”

“And what about you, Xiao. Will their deaths weigh on you?”

“As much as all the others.” Xiao wished he could be matter of fact about it, but he found that trait of his had somehow disappeared. Instead an emotion washed over him, so unfamiliar and unexplainable it seemed to choke him. “Perhaps more.” He managed to get out, before beginning to cry in earnest.

You would’ve died. If he hadn’t been there you would’ve died. For you he gladly shouldered the weight of human life, would do so again and again if only to ensure your safety. And yet it was such a heavy weight, and no matter how many Xiao killed it wouldn’t heal you.

“I’m sorry.” He choked out. You shook your head.

“Xiao I always knew that you weren’t going to be able to see humans as I see them immediately. And I know that you have a relationship with death and killing that most humans, most beings, will never have. I’m not going to blame you, nor will I turn on you. I cannot pretend that what happened didn’t make me angry. In retrospect it made me incredibly angry. It’s also true that – had you not been there – I would’ve raised my own weapon in self-defense. But now I’m going to ask you for one thing, and one thing only.”

“What?”

“Help me recover. Help me recover and let me help you recover. If there’s one thing I don’t want to happen now it’s for you to turn away from me and from everyone else, to let yourself be consumed. I want you to have somewhere you can let your feelings exist, and I want somewhere I can feel happy and comfortable as myself. You make me feel that way, so even if it’s selfish I don’t want you to turn away. And I don’t want you to grieve for me. Injured as I may be I’m not dead.” There was a pause as you let yourself catch your breath, having gotten more and more excited as you went on. “I realize that’s more than one thing.” You concluded, a bit sheepish.

Xiao said nothing for a while before leaning towards you. “May I?” He whispered. You nodded and Xiao pressed his lips to yours. The kiss wasn’t one of fire or passion. It was different, defined within the parameters of fear and relief, there seemed to be a sort of desperation in it, yet it was surprisingly sedate. Pulling away Xiao buried his face in your neck, careful to make sure he wasn’t touching where you’d been stabbed.

“I will. I promise.” He whispered. You nodded, smiling softly. But Xiao couldn’t bring himself to smile, not just yet.

Xiao couldn’t understand humans. They were dirty and cruel and lived without fear of consequences. Their actions haunted him and he found them easier to hate than to understand. But for you he’d try, because to him there was one thing strong than all, strong than fear, stronger than mistrust, stronger than hatred.

And that was the love he held for you.

 Zhongli

If there was one thing Zhongli hadn’t been prepared for when it came to falling in love with humans it was their combination of fragility and utter ignorance to said fragility.

One of Zhongli’s favorite things to do was to simply sit and listen to you talk about your life. Humans fascinated Zhongli, it was one of the reasons he’d ultimately given up his place as Rex Lapis; inside him lived a desire to interact with humanity in a more intimate way, to know what made people behave as they did and to perhaps grow closer to them in the process.

But despite all that he still wasn’t ready for the utter fear he felt when listening to the stories of you getting hurt. You’d laughed off scrapes and bruises and fractures. The time you’d accidentally ripped off your nail was a painful yet funny anecdote, and the fact that you’d fractured your kneecap as a child was something you now looked back on with an odd sense of nostalgia.

Zhongli didn’t understand why these stories frightened him on such a visceral level. Such injuries were nothing to gods and adepti. Although the idea of a broken bone was certainly an irritation there was nothing more in it, and the kind of injuries that could easily kill humans would to Zhongli be the kind of thing that would be unpleasant for its novelty, not for its potential fatality.

He didn’t bring up these thoughts to you, feeling as if they’d somehow place an undue burden on you, or perhaps he was afraid you’d stop telling him about yourself. Still it lurked at the back of his mind, the fear of what might happen to you.

The fears that Zhongli harbored were proven in the most mundane, and thus most poignant, way. The two of you had been preparing a meal when suddenly you’d stumbled on an uneven part of the floor. Reaching your hands out to steady yourself your arm had landed flat on the hot stove, the stove which had been heating up for the past fifteen or so minutes. The scream that you let out sent a shock through Zhongli which shook him to his core. It rang through his ears incessantly, a terrifying reminder of how breakable humans were.

You’d immediately yanked your arm off from the stove but the sight that met both his and your eyes was a ghastly one. The skin on your arm was charred various colors, white blisters mixed with black flaky skin, all outlined in a terrible circle of red. You were shaking, and you face had turned a frightful ashen color. Springing into action Zhongli wracked his brain for all he could remember about burns. If the burn is serious enough go to the hospital. Never try to treat intense burns yourself as the burning has gone deeper than the initial layer of skin, raise your burn above your heart. Go to the hospital. Slinging your arm around his shoulder so that it was raised, whisper soft words of reassurance as you let out a shriek of pain, Zhongli half walked half carried you to the hospital, all while the same thought was running through his head.

How fragile humans are.

The doctors had insisted you stay overnight. Apparently the burn was bad enough to require surgery. Zhongli’s stomach had dropped as he was told that, but he managed to nod in response. Walking back home Zhongli felt all in a daze. He barely made it in the door before he collapsed, fear having seeped the energy out of him. The world pressed down on him, heavier than it’d ever been before. At least you’d be okay, he reminded himself. If he had anything to cling to at least he had that.

Zhongli was the first visitor to arrive at the hospital, having given Hu Tao the run of the funeral home as he spent as much time as possible with you. You were well enough, although a bit bogged down from the painkillers you’d been given. You’d once offhandedly commented that although magic infused medicine tended to be safer for the patient – more successful and less addictive – it was also more powerful; now Zhongli could see you weren’t kidding.

Your burn was wrapped up carefully, the doctors had managed to take the charred skin of, you’d explain, but now the burn had to be treated with the utmost care until the surgery later in the afternoon, infection was no joke.

“Well this’ll certainly be an interesting anecdote.” You let out half a laugh. “Not that I’m happy this happened, but at least this will shut up the next person who complains about how cardio was the most painful thing they’ve experienced.”

“I don’t know how you can be so cavalier about it.” Zhongli replied, tone soft and introspective. “It seems to terrifying to me, how easily humans are hurt.”

“Hey, I’ll be fine.” You assured him, voice soft but firm. “I understand how to adepti and archons and gods this might be terrifying. I’d be the first to admit we can’t really keep up with you in terms of pure healing and resistance to injury. But we’ve continued on this far haven’t we?” You smiled softly. “I promise I’m not about to die from something like a kitchen accident.”

“But what if next time it’s not your arm?” Zhongli replied. “What if it’s your neck or your chest? What if you cut yourself too deeply, what if your cut becomes infected. There are so many things I haven’t thought about until now, so many things that could hurt you. It frightens me terribly.”

“I’m very grateful that you’re worrying for me like this. But Zhongli?” You waited for his eyes to meet yours, smiling once more when he faced you. “You cannot be consumed by your anxiety. Believe me humans worry about these kinds of things. What if I tripped and fell and broke my neck, what if I scratched myself and developed and infection, what if I choked on an apple? These fears live with us, sometimes constantly, but we cannot let them consume us. As much as I’m flattered and glad you care for my wellbeing so much, I also don’t want you consumed by it, nor do I want to be treated like glass.”

“I cannot understand how you’re so resilient.” Zhongli replied after a short pause. You shrugged.

“We are because we must be.”

Zhongli knew in his heart that these fears he harbored weren’t going to go away. He knew that they were going to become more and more apparent through the month of your initial recovery, and through the longer period too as scar tissue formed and subsided.

Humans were indeed fragile. But if there was one thing stronger than said fragility it was their even greater determination to supersede it. Humans may be fragile in body, but they were stronger in spirit even than the gods.

That was something Zhongli wasn’t going to forget. Not for a very long time.

[alexiethymia]

A Case Study on Vanitas’ Character: On Vanitas’ Two Conditions

Since they’re animating the What is Love? episode next (episode 7), I couldn’t help but want to talk about that chapter. [spoilers for anime-only watchers!]

Vanitas has two conditions for Jeanne: 

1) She mustn’t drink blood from anyone else but him.

I admit that like Jeanne, it’s easy for me to fall into the trap of thinking Vanitas is a better guy than he is because of certain biases. Let’s admit it, this part was plain blackmail, and yet for some reason, with what we know of Vanitas now, there are also different ways of seeing this scene. 

Vanitas is ‘blackmailing’ Jeanne, but at the same time that blackmail is actually him also offering a solution to Jeanne’s problem. AND YET, HE DOES IT IN SUCH A WAY SO THAT JEANNE NEVER HAS TO FEEL LIKE SHE OWES HIM. More to the point, he does it in such a way to ensure that Jeanne continues hating him. In other words he, in his own twisted way, is doing a nice thing for Jeanne, while ensuring that she never likes him for it. Now I’m not saying it’s a purely altruistic thing, but I still think that Vanitas is drawn to Jeanne because she reminds him of himself back then. If so he knows precisely how to get her to receive help albeit through manipulative means. 

It’s not a purely altruistic thing. He states it so himself, what he gets out of it is the ‘divine feeling’ Jeanne sucking his blood gives to him again purposefully painting himself as a pervert so that Jeanne wouldn’t like him for helping her. But if we are to believe some theories that it’s not actually as enjoyable as he himself paints it out to be (I digress, but I think he’s being honest here. He strikes me as having a bit of a masochistic streak in him) (I digress from my digression, but theory time, what’s his bases of comparison?? Who besides Luna and Jeanne have drunk from him??), then there’s another dimension to his condition of ‘you must drink blood, only from me’. If he’s just in this for the feeling it gives him, then why word the condition that way? He’s never stricken me as possessive of Jeanne despite his words of ‘I want to possess all of you’, and as he’s stated, he doesn’t want Jeanne to love him back. I think this is just another case of his ‘use me’ mindset rearing its head again. He’s said it to Count Orlock, and we know that it started since his time with Dr. Moreau. It is definitely, definitely, unhealthy, and I believe it’s also coupled with his slight suicidal tendencies. If worst comes to worst and Jeanne ends up going out of control and killing him, he seems not to care. 

Going off tangent here, but another one of his contradictions is how ruthless he is at surviving and yet how careless he is with his life, especially when it comes to people caring for him. He’d rather be left in the snow than have Jeanne take care of him as repayment for him protecting her, or when he got angry at Noe for protecting him from Ruthven.

But at his core and as Luna stated, Vanitas is a kind child. It’s developed in an unhealthy way, but he’s quite self-sacrificial. It’s fine for Jeanne to use him so that Jeanne has a focus or outlet. At least when the craving for blood gets to be too much, Jeanne knows there’s someone she can drink from, which helps her so that she doesn’t lose control and lash out against Luca for example. And on Vanitas’ side, it seems like it’s fine for him to be put at risk so other people don’t have to be, and on Jeanne’s part too, it also helps her from further hating herself if she ends up hurting other people. 

In other words, his condition is both a selfish and selfless one, yet he paints it to be blackmail. It’s not an entirely good thing for him to do, because there’s definitely power play involved, but it’s also not as scummy as it is initially presented out to be with what we now know of his past. 

2) For Jeanne to call him by ‘name’. 

There are so many things going on here that I just can’t help but ramble about it. Firstly, I’m really interested in how this’ll be translated in the anime. Did Vanitas say call me by ‘Vanitas’, or call me by ‘my name’? Because if it’s the latter, then couldn’t Vanitas also mean (although not fully consciously) that he wants someone to call him by his true name like Luna did before he inherited the name ‘Vanitas’? (And I will just die if in a future chapter, Jeanne and Noe do end up getting to call him by his original name).  

Second, there are slight parallels and contrasts with this arrangement he has with Jeanne and with the one he had back then with Moreau. Obviously Moreau is trash and took full advantage of ‘No. 69′. He exercised all the power. In this case, Jeanne is hesitant about hurting Vanitas despite how aggravating he is towards her. She doesn’t want to drink his blood at all. Moreau was a human. Jeanne is a vampire, and despite physically being superior towards Vanitas she changes her demand into a plea or request for Vanitas to keep her secret. (And whelp that’s when she sealed her fate, because she apparently triggered Vanitas. Don’t worry though Jeanne, you’ll get your payback soon enough). Vanitas was completely without power before, so faced with a similar situation this time around, I think part of him let the power get to his head, causing him to partly take advantage of Jeanne (he’s a complete sadist AND a masochist). He has complete agency this time around. Sure he’s once again offering himself with the expectation of pain and at the risk of his life, and he’s also doing this for another person, like with Misha, but unlike with Dr. Moreau, the power is on his side this time around. 

Going off tangent, that’s one thing that Vanitas and Jeanne have to work on. Balancing power and agency. I get where Vanitas is coming from, surrounded by vampires as he is, and with his past too, but he has to realize that caring about and loving someone isn’t a matter of power. You don’t lose when you love and care. You don’t surrender power. You don’t have to take away someone’s agency or exercise your own power for you to manage to do good things for the people you care about. He has to manage that balance - likewise with Jeanne, Noe, and Domi as well. 

Going back. Since he has full agency in this case, it’s his decision to offer himself to Jeanne in this way, he doesn’t want to be dehumanized while doing so. He’s had enough trauma about that already. Despite how he words it, it’s actually a somewhat equivalent exchange between Vanitas and Jeanne. He offers her blood as a way for her to keep her sanity, but she can’t be removed from it, she has to look at him properly and consider him a person with full agency and choices, and not just as ‘that human’. 

And looking at their faces - Jeanne’s is an incredulous one as if to say, ‘that’s it?’ It’s both an easy and difficult thing for her to do. Meanwhile, for Vanitas, I’d expected him to look goading, but he just looks patient and soft. At least in this instance, I don’t see it as him forcing Jeanne to do something she doesn’t want to do - just an unexpected moment of wanting to be known and treated as himself. 

LISTEN HE IS FULL OF CONTRADICTIONS OK. We’re led to believe that all of his interactions with Jeanne until the moment he realized he fell in love with her was just him teasing her, but I believe he was already in the process of falling in love with her slowly. I’ll go so far as to say that he was the one who fell in love first, but he just interpreted it as his being ‘excited’ by her. In other words, the words he said (’I love you’) which we thought was a lie was actually the truth, albeit a truth he didn’t realize much later. 

Why do I think so? It’s because he revealed certain moments of vulnerability or sincerity with her or about her without any of the teasing, as represented by the italicized dialogue. It’s the same case for when he said he didn’t want to trod on her foot with Noe, or when he happily grinned and he said forthright Jeanne was the side of her he liked best (or when he promised he’d kill her). 

This is just an example of his contradiction. He never wanted or expected Jeanne to fall in love with him, and sure this could just be his wanting to push boundaries or test limits, being the chaotic person that he is, and yet, wanting to be called by name is a desire to form a genuine connection. 

He could have just remained as ‘that human’ to Jeanne while interacting with her. After all, what could stop him? He also had the first condition in place to make sure they’d continue to interact. And yet, he refused (like how Noe refuses to be ‘that vampire’ to him). 

Like Luna said, as long as he didn’t close his heart, he wouldn’t be alone. Even if Vanitas thinks it burdensome or wants to be ‘free’, it seems that he still does long for connection - romantic, platonic, or otherwise. 

And this is why I ship them, even in this instance so early on in the manga when arguably the dynamic wasn’t at its healthiest. It’s because of their background that draws them to each other and allows them an understanding of one another. It’s because of that desire to know more about each other. It’s because of that genuine care and wanting to form a connection with each other, despite part of them rejecting it because of their issues.

Do I think they’re good for each other? Yes. Admittedly, they have so much to work on, but I believe that they push (Vanitas with regards to Jeanne’s blood addiction, and Jeanne with Vanitas in his moment of vulnerability) because the both of them tend to be self-destructive if left to their own devices. It’s just that their version of care for each other is aggressive. They’ll have to find that balance though eventually. On Vanitas’ part he also has to be inspired by Noe that the kind of salvation a person wants may not be the best possible outcome, especially for those left behind. I’m not sure what Mochizuki sensei’s end message is suppose to be, but death I don’t believe is salvation.   

tldr: Vanitas is a self-sacrificial idiot who longs for connections under layers of self-loathing (but he’s still an asshole), and VaniJeanne is a good ship which had the foundations laid down from the beginning. 

[volturialice]

what are your headcanons or thoughts about Cullen family dynamics, like between Carlisle and Rosalie, Jasper and Emmett and + (?)

oh anon I have like. encyclopedic volumes of thoughts! I’m sorry if you were after a cute hcs post but this is gonna be another of my classic Endlessly Long Metas

*and the carlisle & rosalie part got so long that emmett & jasper gets to be a separate post now oops

(cw: mentions of rape under the cut)

carlisle and rosalie is a suuuuper interesting relationship because they sure as hell did not get off to a great start. I kind of wish the books (especially midnight sun) explored this a bit more because edward and bella both view carlisle as this saintly, can-do-no-wrong figure up on a pedestal of Perfect Kindness, and we never really get another perspective except for what little rosalie tells bella in eclipse.

but changing rosalie ""for edward"" (and ymmv on exactly how much that was a factor, because we never actually hear about this from carlisle's pov) is pretty icky. and I personally don't even read it as, like, he found a girl dying in the street and went "hmmm she looks hot let's bring her home as A Mate For My Son and never give her a choice about that," which seems to be a fairly popular interpretation among people who don't like carlisle (note that in eclipse, rose explicitly states it was up to her whether or not to stay with the cullens.) I see it more as "he changed this girl without thinking about it because he couldn't bear to see her die, and later the similarity to how he'd changed esme struck him and his brain went, 'hmm...what if?'" which strikes me as a normal thing to have a few brief thoughts about, but not a good thought to cling to after rosalie woke up and it became clear how miserable she was as a vampire.

but just because it’s normal doesn’t mean it isn’t also kinda fucked up to immediately start thinking of a rape survivor as Potential Romantic Object For Son. like, those two things can be true simultaneously. it doesn’t mean carlisle is Secretly A Horrible Person or anything, just that he’s not in fact an infallibly perfect saint of kindness.

so I think rosalie’s anger at him is entirely justified, even though I myself would feel very differently about being a vampire in her situation. I wish we got more of a look at the post-rose/pre-emmett era, when it was just her and edward constantly butting heads! I always got the sense that a lot of edward’s issues with her stem from her refusal to worship carlisle the way he does.

the emmett flashback in MS basically tells us that rosalie didn't forgive carlisle for changing her until he agreed to change emmett—the passage where edward realizes just how far carlisle would go to make rosalie happy (or depending on your pov, how far he'd go out of guilt) is really interesting to me.

carlisle got improbably lucky with his first two "creations—" a Perfect Son who worshipped him and a Perfect Wife who had secretly already pined for him for years, both of whom were willing and eager (edward's Murder Rumspringa notwithstanding lmao) to follow his weirdass animal blood diet. he was probably feeling pretty good by the time he changed rosalie (once lucky, twice confident, y’know?) it must have been a rude awakening to realize that however noble his intentions, his choice to save her went against her wishes and made her miserable. 

I’m sure it made him sad that she would rather have died, especially once he came to love her as a daughter. and then there was that parental frustration of “why can’t my kids get along?? they’re both so great!!” 

I also bet rosalie’s longing for her lost humanity and a nuclear family with biological kids reawakened his own (and esme’s) feelings along those lines. I think it’s interesting that carlisle longs to be human, too. not in the despairing way rosalie does, but enough to empathize. maybe they bonded over that at some point.

because by the time twilight rolls around, they’re cool. I find it especially telling that in midnight sun, rosalie was 100% ready to kill bella but then (notably unlike jasper) backed down the second carlisle said no. it shows that she really does see him as a parent. it makes sense for her character to want to cling to those “human nuclear family” roles the cullens have implausibly adopted.

and, circling back to emmett, his change being the thing that helps rosalie forgive carlisle also makes sense. because suddenly, rose is in his shoes. she’s directly confronted with a dying person who can only be saved by Emergency Vampirization, and she makes the same choice carlisle did—arguably for more selfish reasons!

so I’m sure they had a heart-to-heart after that, with carlisle (hopefully) apologizing again and reassuring rosalie that she made the right choice.

even then, I think deep down there’s always gonna be some part of rose that resents him. sure, she’s got her happyish ending with emmett and her consolation prize with renesmee, but it’s clear in eclipse that although she’s forgiven him, she hasn’t forgotten.

and I mean, that’s fairly true to life. everyone’s parents fuck them up somehow, whether in little ways or big ways, and a lot of people still manage to make peace with them. it almost makes carlisle’s and rosalie’s found-family bond more impressive, because they had to consciously work through their issues and maintain it. 

and once you get past those issues, there’s tons of stuff for them to bond over. they’re both very intellectually-inclined people, and I’m sure carlisle admired rosalie’s pursuit of all her degrees and impressive mechanical knowledge. she’s much fiercer than carlisle (or edward or esme,) good in a crisis, and better at making tough decisions, which is something they sorely needed (especially pre-jasper.) and I suspect rosalie admires carlisle’s patience and (secretly) his optimism, two things that don’t come naturally to her. in short, they’re a good balance for each other.