#i like thinking about him desperate and grieving his child self.

[mishkakagehishka]

And we know Suzu was adopted and we know Mika will meet her (or has met her, looking from EnGirls pov). Do you think he ever feels envy. Or perhaps resentment.

Do you think he's envious of the fact that she got adopted and he didn't. Do you think he ever thinks about the fact that they both have mismatched eyes, which he'd always blamed for his being abandoned, yet she was adopted. What will he blame now? Is there something inherently wrong with him? How come his twin was wanted, and he wasn't? He's spent years blaming one (1) thing about himself for it, but considering she shares that trait, it must be something else that's wrong with him. Do you ever think about Mika desperate to find some sort of logical explanation for the fact that he was abandoned. His own form of "closure". Do you think he said that he never tried to find parents because he projected his abandonment issues and didn't want to "abandon" the kids he was in charge of taking care of, or do you think it was his defence. His way of saying, "It's not that nobody wants me - it's that I don't want to be adopted". His way of protecting his feelings. Anyway-

[yiminsuu]

Please, Stay

Pairing: MK1 Syzoth/Reptile x F!Reader

Warnings: Sexual themes (+18), breeding, two cocks, angst and fluff, self-esteem issues, jealousy, friends to lovers, mentions of violence.

Author’s Note: Did I buy a ps5 just to play MK1? You bet. He needs all the loving in the galaxy and we'll give it to him no matter how much it costs! Please the way his family was taken from him was just so cruel, baby boy didn't deserve it...

Shattering noises reached my eardrums as I stepped into the kitchen of the academy, watching Syzoth sigh in desperation while his emerald eyes stared at the broken cup on the ground. I felt my heart breaking at his lost expression, yet I ceased all desire to touch him and walked away as silently as I could.

Since meeting Liu Kang and the others my seemingly normal life took a toll, transforming me into a 24/7 killing machine with 0 possibility of my enemies ever escaping Kombat. According to the Fire God, I always had this in my blood, now I just have to balance it… I just didn't expect that coming to a different realm and being incarcerated by a maddened sorcerer was the way to do so. That's where we met him, that's where we crossed eyes, that's where I fell enchanted by him.

Perhaps it was the anxiety of meeting someone new, or maybe I wanted to punch someone for the horrible things done to the people of Outworld, but there was no way of knowing I was attracted to what Baraka called a 'Zaterran', at least not at the time. Seeing Syzoth in his real form was surprising because I had never seen his kind, but the reptilian didn't know this, and in the beginning, I was sure he hated me to the core. He kept a certain distance from me unless I engaged against someone, he had my defense just like I had his, I didn't think much about it to be honest, I was sure he wanted to stay on the good side of the rest.

So when I spoke with Ashrah about our teammates in the gardens at tea time, she made it clear that she wanted me to talk more about Syzoth, indicating how protective he was over me when our battle against Quan Chi and Ermac took place, or when Li Mei chased after me when I made a mistake. I mean… I am practically a child compared to them, I found it normal that even Johnny would aid me at all times. I did notice their growing friendship as time passed, I was happy Syzoth could grieve his family in peace, and that he can have a joyful life from now on, yet after so much I don't think he's comfortable with me, don't think he'll ever be.

"Sometimes, people need to reflect on their past to come to peace with their mistakes."

"Thanks Ashrah, not undermining your achievements, but just because you did it doesn't mean others can do it as easily."

"Then why not come with me and Syzoth to Outworld? We will have a chance to speak our minds while we have dinner."

I declined, didn't feel like being the third wheel.

Realizing I was jealous was quite easy, but I swallowed it down, it's normal for me to get my hopes up to then be crushed mentally and emotionally. I was in silent rage, and I almost broke Raiden's skull in a friendly kombat so I decided to retreat to my accommodations with Liu Kang's permission who, weirdly, didn't stop smiling at me as I left. Following my encounter with Syzoth, I sprinted to my room and screamed into the pillow with genuine self-hatred for not asking if he was okay, and with regret in my mind, I drifted off to sleep.

Subsequently, waking up in the middle of the night to knocks on my door scared me, I thought there was some sort of emergency and I hurriedly opened the door to freeze immediately at the sight of the reptilian, he looked stunned at the speed in which I answered that he visibly gulped. "Syzoth, hey… I-Is something wrong?" Don't take me wrong, I did try to have conversations with him plenty of times, but he either avoided or ignored me, so I just gave up. "Do we have an emergency?"

I jumped in place when he changed into his reptile form, speechless at the action, we stared at each other in silence until his human form came back with a deep exhale. Even then, Syzoth refrained from saying a word for a good minute and turned to walk away before stopping and muttering something under his breath, cursing slightly. "Can I-- Can I come in…?" He questioned loud enough. With a furrowed eyebrow and with a growing heartbeat, I let him into my room and closed the door gently, once I glanced at Syzoth, his back was turned to my figure, and his head hanging low.

I cleared my throat, getting his attention, but he wouldn't budge from his position. "Did something happen? Is Johnny bothering you with the whole movie thing?" It's 3 a.m. but I'm sure Cage is still awake doing whatever an actor does in hopes his movie would be a success. "I can speak with him." I finished. Frowning at the lack of answer, I crossed my arms and my anger built up fast in my body. "Look, if you only woke me up to stand silent in the corner of my room you might as well leave, we'll speak in the--"

"Do you hate me?" I shut my mouth and widened my eyes at him.

Hate him? How could I? He's saved me more times than I could count. "Why… Why would--"

"I've seen how you watch me, how everyone watches me." There was so much sadness in his normally soft voice, his beautiful eyes staring into my own with every emotion he could find. "Do I look that monstrous, (Y/N)? Do I look so hideous you can barely withstand me to be in your company? You turn away every time I try to be with you in the same room, is it because of my true form…? Do I scare you? Or is this human skin just as mundane for you?" Syzoth transformed into his Zaterran form again. "Will I receive hate from you no matter what sort of shape I possess?"

Nothing came out of my lips, mostly because of the shock from his unexpected outburst, Syzoth looked away and took a few steps back from me, his whole demeanor changing into one of desolation. The room got darker when the moon hid behind clouds as if to make the reptilian a cruel favor. "Syzoth…" I called but got interrupted.

"Someone like you will never see me as an equal, and I should have known, but you… Looked so innocent in that cell that I couldn't resist securing you from harm. I beg of you, forgive me if I intimidated you as far as not accepting a dinner invitation, I want you to know you are the last person I ever want to hurt in any way. I'll stay away, just… Don't look at me with those eyes, the eyes of someone frightened, not you…"

Without thinking, I placed my hands on his reptile cheeks, his pupils dilating under my touch, he felt cold but I didn't let that bother me, there's nothing about him that could bother me. "I don't hate you, okay? And I'm not scared." I uttered to him, and in a flash, his human shape graced me, staring down at me with a glow in his eyes I'd never seen before. "But, you were--"

"Syzoth, you are the kindest soul I've met, you did everything you could to protect your family, you helped us defeat Shang Tsung and saved our lives countless times. Besides, I couldn't care less about your appearance, you are so handsome, soft-spoken, and courageous." I pursed my lips as I saw something shift in the way he looked at me, maybe I should've said something more worthy of being seen as his friend instead of stating the obvious, I have a crush-- No, I am full in love with him. I felt as if the world was torturing me all this time, and I failed to see I was the one torturing him with my avoidance of solving my own problems. "You mean it…? All of it?" Syzoth's hands rested on mine, his body slightly closer to touch mine.

"I do. I was surprised the first time I saw your true form, I'm not gonna lie, but I've grown accustomed to Outworld's unique beauty… What I did not like, on the other hand, was being called 'freakish'." I smiled brightly when he chuckled, the tension between us quickly evaporated, but I knew something changed. "I am sorry, you are anything but freakish." He paused, and my cheeks grew hotter as my hands were held by calloused ones. I gathered the little braveness I had and spoke. "I actually thought you hated me, you observed and followed after me everywhere, I was sure you wanted to kill me at some point."

"Oh, I didn't mean--" With the light of the moon, I saw his expression turn into a nervous one. "No! (Y/N), have you seen yourself in a mirror? You look so lovely, so breedable…"

Both of us stopped to process what the reptilian said.

Syzoth covered half of his face with his hood while I stood in place, screaming internally. "Fuck… I didn't want it to come out like that, I wanted to take you out first." I was thrilled at the thought of him having me how he desired, so I shut my mind from judgment and gulped down my anxiety, and kissed his cheek. He gazed at me with widened eyes, letting go of his hood and leaning closer to me, pecking my lips experimentally, so delicately as if I was going to break in his arms. I felt hot at the sensation of being wanted, and kind of ashamed for judging his relationship with Ashrah.

The Zaterran halted all movement to gaze at me. "I need your mind right here, baby. Please." I almost whined when he pulled me to him, kissing him as our clothing came off and sitting on his lap while he moved his head down towards my stomach and pressed open-mouthed kisses against my skin. "Your mouth feels good…" When I looked into his eyes, which were already staring back at me, I felt myself relax, his eyes were so soft and held so much love, that I felt like my heart was going to burst at the sight. Syzoth pressed his lips against my breast, squeezing the flesh of my thigh, enjoying how I shivered underneath his fingertips. I gasped when he bit my chest, breath hitching when he snapped away my underwear, inhaling my body as if it was the sweetest flower he found.

I kissed his forehead and embraced him by the neck, receiving a groan from him promptly. My breathing was turning heavy as his hands traveled from my thighs to my buttocks, pressing me against his clothed manhood. "W-Was that dinner supposed to be a setup?"

"Yeah… Truth be told, if you had gone I would have bent you over right then and there." Dammit Ashrah, you should've given me a hint. I shoved away the thought of her and planted a kiss on his neck, a breathless 'more' left his lips, sliding his remaining wear down and I gave out a wail when I felt two hard cocks on my behind. "Syzoth, you--"

"You don't have to take both, it's fine. I know this isn't something humans see every day…" He's going to be the dead of me, and the worst thing is, he knows about this by the expression he's wearing now. A soft mewl echoed in the room when one of his cocks brushed against my hole, he almost salivated at the sight of our bodies prepared to join together. "I promise I'll make you feel good, extremely good." Syzoth smirked as he laid on my bed, his thumb playing with my clit as his tip kept teasing my entrance, choked moans leaving my mouth and my fingers went to grab his short hair.

I let out a desperate whine when he suddenly entered me, my lips shaping an O as his finger abused my clit. "Syzoth…! F-Fuuck!" The sound of my wetness made me feel so self-conscious, but the way he looked so lost in pleasure excited me to no end. He retreated his finger when I arched my back, my walls clenching around his still-entering cock. "So warm… So perfect…" His piercing, green eyes kept eating at the scene, and his lips let out a sound of thrill for being able to be completely inside me, pushing my body against his as I shook above him, the moan that left me was unholy.

"Yes, yes, shit…" I heard him utter nonstop, his tail appearing to grasp around my thigh.

"Y-You’re stunning…" I told him, and the reptilian groaned deeply at my words, sitting once more and kissing me hungrily as he began moving. Syzoth bit my shoulder and spread my legs further apart so he could thrust deeper, he smiled weakly against my trembling skin, hugging me tightly as he felt his other cock rubbing against my asscheeks. I pushed his torso into mine, tears brimming in my eyes and both moaning between kisses. "Just like that, pretty… Take me all in…" I managed to nod, pulling Syzoth into another kiss as my legs wrapped around his torso. I was becoming desperate, the feeling of his cock stretching me out felt heavenly, I could feel every inch of him as he moved inside of me.

Syzoth grunted, tightening his hold on my body so it would become impossible for me to escape. "Fuck…!" He cursed loudly, forehead pressing against my neck. "(Y/N), please (Y/N)! Let me cum inside…!" His tip pressed against my cervix, and I attempted to shift my position a bit but his hold was unbreakable. He looked so needy with that fucked expression of his, so gorgeous with sweat running down his muscle, and purely swallowed by pleasure and pain alike. My forehead rested on his and he gasped, finally moving his hips faster, he was trying to reach the deepest depths of my being.

I could feel the love radiating off him in every action, the way he kissed me, how he embraced me, the affection in his eyes… I could feel it all, tears cascaded down my cheeks, kissing his lips. "Don't let go of me…" I whispered, holding onto him as my hips moved in sync with his. Syzoth whispered my name like a mantra, followed by many words of adoration amidst our lovemaking. "I will never let go."

[bumpkinspice0]

Parallels Chapter 17: What Is Meant To Be?

Miguel O'Hara x Spider!FemReader

No use of y/n

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4.9k

Summary: You're going to die. It's written in the canon. The canon must always be obeyed... right?

Warnings: Angst O'clock, Talks of death, Near death experience???? Miguel loves so hard, SMUT (again finally) Oral (Fem receiving), Window sex??, sweet sweet desperation

A/N:  I worked hard to get this out quickly because I felt bad about making everything so sad lately 😅 Though there still might be enough angsty to make it plenty sad, Idk. I'm sorry anyway

Previous. - Next

Series Masterlist

AO3

_______________

Chapter 17

What Is Meant To Be?

“Play it again.”

“Miguel, I don’t think–”

“Play it again.”

The simulation of the dingey warehouse restarts. Nothing more than a prediction. A vision of what's to come. A supposed hostage situation set up by the remnants of the Fisk family—a trap for you. It was so simple. He’d seen you dodge gunfire and fight practical monsters, but this is what does it? Trapped inside a warehouse rigged to explode. As indestructible as spiders seemed to be, no one could rightly survive a roof falling on them. A spider can’t dodge bullets forever. 

They’d find your body 3 days later, likely a memorial erected in your honor as well as a day of citywide grieving. And two months later a certain captain’s daughter would take up the mantle— and you’d be replaced and slowly forgotten. 

There was a 98.9% chance of likelihood for these events. It might as well be a hundred at that point.

You were going to die. This is how you were going to die. 

It was predicted to happen within the hour and Miguel was just sitting here waiting for it to happen. How morbid, he scolds himself. He sits there helpless, a pitiful excuse for a hero. 

“Mig, I’m so sorry,” Lyla’s small form comes to sit next to his hand, her own small hand mimicking stroking motions over his forearm. 

“You weren’t going to tell me.” he mumbles, eyes still locked on the screen of a smoldering building where your body would be dug up from. Only a simulation. It hadn’t happened. Not yet.

“I didn’t know how to. I was… scared.” 

“Scared,” He scoffs, “You?”

“You’re not the only one who cares about her, Miguel.'' The AI bites out harshley. It almost catches him off guard. He’s so used to seeing her so bubbly, so quirky and fun. As annoyed as he seemed by it, he always appreciated it. Gabe was smart in programming her to be so fun. He needed someone like that in his life. Someone to help cut through his bullshit. You played that role as well. 

“We’ve lost a lot of friends in this job, haven’t we Lyla?”

“We have.” 

Miguel expected to be ragging at this point, an inconsolable beast wreaking havoc on his lab. Angry, like he had been since you left. Instead, he’s just numb. Was your fate that easy to accept?

The spider-sense lulls in his head, finally quieting down after the month of torture. Did that mean it knew what was to come? Would he feel it? When you—

He finally buries his face in his hands, muffling a defeated sob. Ah, there’s the tears. After the self-inflicted torture he’d put you both through, this is how it ends? You die and he has to watch it happen like a helpless child on the sidelines. This is the burden he’d taken. He’d done this so many times before. He’d watched horrible things happen because it was the will of the canon— but with you it was… you were…

“Lyla, I’d like to see the probability diagnostics,” He swallows the sorrow, hoping the cold unfeeling numbers of an algorithm might put him at ease. If this was to happen, maybe looking at the ripple effects of it would help him cope. A sacrifice for the greater good of it all. 

The equations and graphs illuminate around him, all of them infallible. This was going to happen. And what would your death bring to the multiverse? Nothing. A small blip in the grand scope of it all. A speck of dust in the cosmos, just like all of them. 

But if your death was so small, then what could that mean if it didn’t happen?

The thoughts he’d been suppressing suddenly flood his mind. He’s not helpless here. The power to change your fate rested on his wrist, your life so easily saved by the simple push of a button. He’d risked something like this before, but it was different this time. Could saving a life have the same effect? He’d replaced a life, but saving a life…There’s no way to know. And he didn’t have time to run the numbers. He had to act—- now.

“Miguel?” Lyla’s voice chirps up behind him, “What are you doing?”

What is he doing? He looks down to see he’d already typed in the coordinates to your universe. Had he already decided and didn’t realize it? Was it that easy?

“I…” He looks down at the watch. A single push of a button. That’s all it would take. “I don’t know.”

“I know… this is hard,” She hovers at his wrist now, clearing the coordinates from the watch, “But we can’t interfere with—”

“All we’ve done is interfere,” He bites out in a voice he doesn’t recognize. “How is this different?”

Did he really believe that?

Hypocrite, he scolds himself.

Reasoning. He was trying to reason for it. Bargaining for your life to justify his own selfish actions. 

He types in the coordinates again, and Lyla clears them before he finishes. He growls, clawing through her projection. 

“You’re not thinking, Miguel!” She urges. “I know this is hard. But you can’t. You know you can’t.”

He knows she’s right, he’s not thinking. He doesn’t care. If he could pull this off, if he could save you, then he’d figure it out. He always did. There had to be limits he could push. Options he never considered. Whatever it would take, just to assure your safety. 

“You have to understand what’s at stake here.” Lyla says again, her pixelated eyes pleading with him. Despite her seeming so human in every way, she was still just a program doing her job. She was his fail-safe, an assurance to make sure past mistakes weren’t repeated— and now she’s the only thing standing in his way. 

“Yes, I do understand,” He says coldly, calmly walking across the lab— to Lyla’s control panel. “It’s time you remember who’s in charge.”

“Don’t even think about it!” She grows to full size. Projections explode behind her, raging fire, explosive blinding lights— all mere illusions. It does nothing to stop him. While she ran things, multiverse travel was still completely operable without her. He opens the panel and begins typing in the reboot code. It’s the one area of the tower she has no control over.

Arachni-bots scurry towards him before falling dead with another push of a button. She’s trying everything. He has to work quickly.

“I’ve called Gabe,” Lyla warns, “Emergency protocol is initiated. He’ll know.”

“Fine, I don’t care.” Miguel punches in the final sequence and all of Lyla’s projections begin to fade. Only her flicking form remains. It’ll take her at least an hour to reboot, that’s more than enough time. 

A portal to earth-727 bursts to life in front of him. 

“Think about it, Miguel!” Lyla tries to reason one last time as her projection starts to fade, “All of this— Everything— for one person? It’s not worth it.”

He pauses at the portal's entrance, the pull of the spider-sense urging him to step forward. 

“Yes. She is.”

The sense crescendos as he shoots through reality, across time and space to save you. The anticipation builds, the anxiety of racing against the clock. He burst through the portal already swinging, taking a quick assessment of his surroundings. Without Lyla to guide his exact location he could've only ended up in a 3-mile radius of you. The sun had already set. He was in Brooklyn, the southside by the looks of it. The warehouse was in the center of Queens, not far but he had to hurry. 

As he swings the rest of his emotions come flooding in. The guilt. The shame… the undeniable love for you. How could he have thought such things? How could have just sat by while he watched you die? Had this job really made him so callous? So cold to the world at large? 

When did Spider-Man stop trying to save everyone?

You’d given yourself to him so freely and he’d meet your affections with so much disdain— yet you treated him with kindness anyway. You were patient with him like no one had been before, he didn’t deserve it. Yet he won’t give it up. Not anymore.

He’d make it up to you. He’d make it all up to you starting tonight. 

The warehouse is in sight. You’d be swinging in from the east. He could easily stop you before you got anywhere near the building. He perches himself on the highest rooftop half a block east of the rigged warehouse and waits. Checking the time, you’d be swinging at any moment, give or take a few minutes. 

He waits… and he waits. 

He’s not sure how much time has passed before he starts pacing. Did he miss you? No, he has no doubt the spider-sense would have honed in on you.  

The spider-sense… in his blind panic he hadn't paid it any mind. Surely being in your dimension would send the alarms blaring in his head. Instead, it was like it was…. Muted. Smothered under something he didn’t recognize. What did that mean? 

What if it meant you were already dead?

Dread pushes him off the roof and swinging towards the harrowing warehouse. Crawling up to the closest window, he peers inside. Three armed men stand in the center of the massive room, barrels of explosives around them. 

“Where the hell is she?” one of them grumbles, “Doesn’t she usually show up way before the cops? Did Tony call it in?”

“Of course he did,” the second one sighs. 

“If she doesn’t come then this was all for nothin’.”

“She’ll come. She always comes.”

“Shut up, both of you,” the final one hisses, turning around to scold the other two. “Look.”

He gives a faint nod to his right… directly at Miguel. 

The first bullets whiz past Miguel’s shoulder, one knicking his suit. He was spotted. Idiot. How could be so careless? He barely manages to swing out of sight.

“Christ, don’t shoot in here!” The leader of the three shouts, “Might as well light a fucking match!” 

“Fuck you, I’m not letting that bitch get away!” They think Miguel is you? He could hear them arguing, perched safely on the roof. Well that confirms it, you weren’t here. 

“She’s here. We got her and I’m not gonna let her pick us off one by one. I’m getting justice for the boys she locked up.” The threatening statement is followed by the unmistakable cock of a gun. 

Oh no. 

“Wait— WAIT—'' One of them pleads before a shot goes off, immediately followed by a domino fall of explosions. 

Miguel just barely swings to safety, the flames licking at his heels. 

“Holy shit. Holy shit.” He chants as he rounds the corner onto a rooftop. It happened. The explosion paints the night in harsh oranges, shattering windows and setting off car alarms for miles. He hears police sirens finally approaching. Your death had happened— and you weren’t there for it.

You weren’t there. 

Relief overtakes him, dropping him to his knees. He’s not sure if he wants to cry or vomit. Quelling the boiling cauldron of emotions in his brain, he forces himself to focus. He hones in on the spider-sense— desperately humming in the forefront of his mind. It was trying to tell him something. Trying to tell him where you were. 

With a wary step forward, he follows it.

________

An emergency distress call from some random universe you’d never heard of. You can’t remember the last time you answered one. Probably when the tower was attacked. They were never meant to be ignored either. 

Jess called it in, and with her being so far along in her pregnancy you leaped immediately to help her, along with a good handful of all of your other spider-comrades. She’d just entered her third trimester and you’re truly amazed she’s still working this diligently. 

“Gotta get it all out of my system now,” She’d scoffed to you when she’d first announced it, “That and I know you guys can’t do this without me, better help you out now.” 

Jessica Drew, always so humble to the point she wouldn’t allow herself maternity leave. God, you loved her but you’d wished she would slow down. 

Since she showed no signs of taking a break, offering a helping hand whenever she needed it was the best you could do.

 Tonight she certainly needed it, being caught in a sudden gathering of symbiotes. You and about ten other spiders answered the call, just in time it seemed.

You hated symbiotes. It wasn’t as easy as punching them and knocking them out, you had to be clever. Play to their very specific weaknesses— Fire and loud noises. That and they were just nasty fuckers. It's a good chance for you to blow off some steam. You didn’t have to hold back when it came to symbiotes, and for once, that was a good thing. 

An hour of messy fighting and a lot of loud noises and fire later, they were all contained. It admittedly felt good to be part of a team effort after your rather less-than-stellar month. These were still your people, they didn’t stop being your people just because Miguel wasn’t part of your circle anymore.

A massive portal opened back to HQ. You’re cue to leave for home.

“Hey,” Jess grabs your shoulder before you can hit the button home, “Come back to the tower with me.”

“I— why?” you’re aware of how cold it comes out. 

Jess immediately furrows her brows, “Because I haven’t talked to you in forever and I wanna buy you a coffee so you can describe what it tastes like to me.”

You can’t help but laugh a little, “You miss coffee that much, huh?”

“And booze. And sushi. And hot tubs. And—” She drapes her arm around your shoulder as she continues, leading you over to her bike. Well, if she’s offering a fun ride, who are you to say no?

Yes, you’d been avoiding the tower like a plague just because he’s there. You feel him when you’re closer, the sense jumping at the proximity alone. Just because it was Miguel’s tower though, didn’t mean you weren’t welcome. Your friends were there. Your community. Spider Tower wasn’t just a monolith to Miguel, it was for all of you. 

You wonder if you should tell Jess about it all. If anyone would understand it’d be her. You’d probably get a few good minutes of reprimanding you for being so stupid, but then she’d go full protective mode and be your human shield against the big bad Spider-Man 2099. That and the pregnancy hormones were making her more irritable. That’s what friends did, though— right? Made things easier for one another. That and you wanted another shoulder to cry on.  

You will tell her, eventually. Not tonight but… soon. 

You both burst into the tower, Jess skidding the bike to a spiraling stop. 

“I hate it when you do that.” you sigh into her back. 

“You spend all day swinging around a city and a little bike ride makes you dizzy?” She scoffs, flipping out the kickstand.

“Yes, shut up,” You groan, practically melting off the bike. Suddenly, You remember why you don’t always accept rides from her, “Why do you ride a bike anyway? Your webs seem perfectly fine.”

“Just to look cool,” She muses, bouncing her hard to the side. Well… you can’t deny that fact. She always did look pretty cool. 

The spider-sense was revving in the back of your head. A few weeks ago it would have driven you insane, now it’s just another thing to ignore. Like a cast over a broken bone or an itchy rash. You’d trained yourself to live with advanced senses, you could train yourself to get used to this. 

At least until you were ready to take the cure. 

You’re halfway to the cafeteria when it’s too much, the sense jumping like a punch to the back of your head. You stumble forward, blindsided by the effects. 

“Jeez, you okay?” Jess grabs your arm. 

“Fine! Fine…. I think.” You assure her halfheartedly.

The sense calms down into a more annoying ringing, but still stronger than when you first entered the building. Why was it acting up now? 

A familiar voice calling your name is your answer. You turn around and there he is, standing at the end of the hallway. 

Miguel— and god, he looks awful. 

Of course he had to show up when you were starting to feel like yourself again. The sense almost causes you to burst out in tears at the sight of him alone. It was a relief. It was a nightmare. 

God, you really don’t want to do this right now. 

He takes a few timid steps toward you, “I… I need to talk to you.”

“Why?” you immediately spit back. 

“It’s important,” He simply says. This was a bad idea. You want to go with him so badly but you know if you do it’ll open up all of your wounds again. 

“What’s going on, Mig?” Jess, bless her, tries to intervene. 

“This is between me and her,” Miguel bites out coldly. Jess didn’t often tolerate his bitchy behavior, but she turns to you instead. Her eyes look to you to see if everything is okay— a silent communication only women seemed to possess the power of. 

“It’s fine, Jess,” You pat her shoulder assuredly, “I’ll describe some coffee to you later.” 

She doesn’t look convinced that it is, in fact, fine but carries on her way regardless. She knew you well enough to be sure that you could handle yourself. She’d suspected something probably since the beginning. Yeah, you really need to come clean to her eventually. 

“What do you want?” You practically hiss at Miguel. He barely moves, simply pressing a button on his watch. A portal springs up on your right. 

“Not here,” He gestures to the spinning portal. Of course, this all had to be cryptic for no reason. Just another thing to torture you right now. You groan and step through the portal. 

It was like walking through a door, your feet landing on solid ground in less than a blink of an eye. A quick glance around and you see you’re in Miguel’s home. It’s dark, the only light coming from the glowing city outside. 

You turn to him as he exits the portal behind you. 

“We couldn’t have taken the sta—”

You don’t even finish the sentence before he pulls you into him, strong arms crushing you against his chest. You’re not sure what you expected… but it wasn’t this.

It’s embarrassing how good it makes you feel almost immediately. Like just his touch cured your countless sleepless nights. The familiar warmth of his arms seeping into your varying being as if he was holding your soul. Was a hug always this good? It’s certainly better than the last one you shared with him. 

The realization jolts you out of his embrace. You weren’t supposed to be together anymore. You weren’t supposed to be doing this shit anymore— right?

“What the hell, Mig?” is all you manage to gasp out. 

He stands there, unmoving, his arms still reaching out after you. You can’t read his face, his expression almost blank. Shocked, maybe?

“I… I don’t know—I had to—” he pulls his hands back, examining them as if he’s just killed someone, “Where were you?”

“Where was—” you balk out an annoyed laugh. Is that why he brought you up here, to check in on you? Toying with this all like some child, “On a mission with Jess, doing my job. Are you spying on me now? Do I have to report to you still?!”

He says nothing, letting your harsh yelling linger in the large space. He looks at you again, something you don’t recognize in his eyes. Suddenly all your anger is replaced with pity. What was happening?

“You’re—” He choked on his words, just for a moment, “You’re okay?”

“Am I o—” You take a step towards him, willing yourself not to reach out and touch him. Trying so desperately to hold up that wall. The resistance you’re not sure you had. 

The spider-sense… is screaming.

“Miguel… you’re scaring me.” 

He nods as if to say I’m scared too. Scared of what, though? You gulp as you break the barrier. You reach out and cradle his massive hands in yours. He sighs at your touch. Something horrible happened… or was going to happen—something to bring this warrior to his knees in a way you’d never seen before. 

“I… I don’t know what to do,” he admits shakily. “Little spider, I think I—”

“What do you need?” you ask immediately.

You see the corners of his mouth twitch up just briefly. Cute, but not an answer. 

“What happened?” You push.

His hands trail up your arms and come to cup your face. Your eyes flutter, almost instinctively. “Just… just tell me you're okay. Right now. In this moment.”

“Mig—” 

You’re not sure who does it. If he pulls your lips to his or if you jump up to meet him. Does it really matter? He tasted like freedom. Like the relief you’d been searching for all these weeks. Had you forgotten so easily? The taste of him. The feel of him. Something so indescribable— like a drug. He was your drug.

It’s a handsy fury, ripping off your clothes as you seemingly try to will his to fade away. There was no time for pleasantries, not this time. There was only hunger— unsatiated, gnawing hunger. 

Need. You needed him.

He backs you against the windows, their sudden coldness sending chills up your naked body. 

“Miguel, please—” you urge, for what exactly, you’re not entirely sure. Whatever he was willing to give you.

“Te tengo. Te tengo…” He chants as his mouth glides down your body, from your neck, between your breasts, and finally to your waiting cunt. 

He engulfs your heat greedily. You don’t recall ever screaming so loud. Sweet, perfect relief. He was perfect. 

He brings both of your legs over his shoulders and holds you there, your bare back pressed against the glass for all the world to see— not that anyone likely would from this height. And not that you really cared right now anyway. There was only him. Him. Him!

God, you missed his skillful mouth. Hungerly lapping at you like it nourished his very soul. It did, you suppose in a way. The sinful hunger helped both of you in its own way. Kept you sane. Kept you alive. You can’t believe you’ve lasted as long as you did without him. 

You come embarrassingly fast, but you’re not surprised with how much you had pent up over the last month. The orgasm rips you apart like an atom bomb, exposing your raw nerves underneath. Your vision goes white, your mouth goes dry. It was everything you were trying to give yourself all those lonely nights— Miguel gave it to you in two minutes. 

His mouth still sloppily runs between your legs as you come down. You squirm in his grasp, your sensitivity now turned up to eleven. 

“Miguel,” You plead, “I need you. I need you.”

A rumble emanates from his chest and up your legs as his mouth comes off you. He lowers your legs, holding you at his waist. He stands at his full height again, pinning you there. He trails his mouth back up your torso, pausing at your breasts to lull his tongue over each nipple before he finds your mouth again— his mouth and tongue coated with the taste of you. 

“Lo siento, arañita. Lo siento mucho.” he whispers between breaths. You know those words. He’s saying sorry. He’s sorry— you’re sorry too. Sorry for it to have come to this. 

He slides inside with a pained moan. Your walls clench around him with familiarity. 

“Like you were made for me,” He murmurs as his mouth slides down your neck. Though it’s completely healed over, he knows the mark he left. He stops on it, his tongue tracing the ghost of what was left there. The brand he left on your soul. 

He lifts you off his cock and slams back into you brutally. Your head falls back against the window with a defined thunk as he sets a ruthless pace. Bouncing you on his cock like you weighed nothing at all. That’s alright, he can use you. 

Your lude erotic sounds fill the space. Wet skin slapping on wet skin. Desperate wordless moans for more. Always more. 

“I missed you. I missed you,” You don’t didn’t even realize you were chanting it until your mouth went dry. 

“Shhh,” He nips at your lower lip, “I know. God, I know. I missed you too. I— fuck.”

Even amidst the animalistic lust-fueled frenzy, you could feel him trembling under your touch. His body quivering with more than just desire. Your combined anxieties manifesting into something desperate and terrifying. A need that couldn’t just be quelled with just your hands. 

Even in your bliss-fogged mind, you felt like a fool for ever letting something like this go. Something so rare and beautiful.

Ever since it appeared in your life you’d been trying to describe this impossible feeling. What was a shared spider-sense? A piece of you that you shared with someone else. How can you define what felt like pure instinct? Give a name to something that was indescribable?

The only thing you knew was that something felt right when you were together. The world made sense when this man was part of it, as infuriating as he could be at times. You were his, he was yours. Not yours in the sense that he belonged to you, but yours meaning he belonged with you. A pair, a set, forever intertwined. 

What was the spider-sense to you?

It was home. 

It felt like home. He felt like home.  

His hips come to a staggering halt as your second orgasm overtakes you. He bites down on your shoulder as he paints your walls. He stands there just for a moment before lowering you both to the ground on trembling legs. Neither of you speaks, panting out the thinning air between each other. Both of you refuse to let go, afraid that this time would surely be the last time you’d ever touch him. Keep him here, now, forever. Nothing could take him away from you right now. 

“Reboot complete.” An ambient voice rings through the room. It was certainly Lyla’s but it sounded… different. More robotic. 

“Oh no,” Miguel grumbles, his grip on you tightening. 

“What? What is it?” Why do you feel panicked? It’s just Lyla. 

Miguel pulls away, worry crossing those burgundy eyes, “I… I have to tell you something.” 

Before he can continue, a familiar golden glow springs up in the middle of the room. Pixels form together to make the familiar form of the infamous AI assistant. She turns to face you both. Miguel’s suit instantly appears back on his body. You’re suddenly very aware of your nakedness, despite her being a computer program. You grab for your abandoned suit crumbled on the floor, hurriedly shoving yourself back into it. 

 “Geez, knock first, Lyla,” You scold her. 

“You’re—” the program's gaze darts back to Miguel in an instant, “Miguel, you didn’t.” 

Miguel sits there shamefully, like a scolded dog. 

“I know we’re not supposed to be doing this anymore,” You come to his defense, slipping your arm into the final sleeve, “It just kind of happened.”

Lyla cock’s her head at you. Was she… confused? Did Lyla get confused? Again, she turns back to Miguel. 

“You didn’t tell her?”

An unknown fear pricks at the hairs on your neck, “Tell me what?”

Miguel stands, arms outstretched to console you. His mouth was open and ready with an explanation before he was interrupted again. 

“Miguel!” Another voice echoes through the large room as it enters the apartment. Gabe. He pauses at the living room entrance. “Oh no. No no no, Miggy. What is she doing here? Estas loco?!”

“Excuse me?” You start before Miguel comes to your defense. 

“She’s here because I chose for her to be here,” He steps in front of you, “She has a right to be here.”

“You’re not God, Miguel,” Gabe marches over, slapping his older brother in the chest. Miguel doesn’t react, “You don’t get to make these decisions. No one does.No puedo creer que estés cometiendo los mismos errores de nuevo. No puedo creer—”

“I’ve told you this is not the same. Ella es diferente,” Miguel bites out, looming over Gabe. The younger brother does not back down.

“Bullshit!”

“Hey!” You finally scream. All eyes in the room snap to you in an instant, some angrier than others. “Someone please… tell me what’s happening.”

You see Gabe’s defenses drop, pinching the bridge of his nose as he takes a step away.

“Jesucristo, Mig.” You hear him mumble into his hand.  

Miguel looks back to you, some kind of horrifying desperation pulling at his features. You’re not sure why, but it scares you. 

“Arañita… Sit down. I have something to tell you.”

_______

Translations:

Te tengo. Te tengo…: I’ve got you. I’ve got you...

Lo siento, arañita. Lo siento mucho: I’m sorry, little spider. I’m so sorry.

No puedo creer que estés cometiendo los mismos errores de nuevo. No puedo creer– : I can’t believe you’re making the same mistakes again. I can’t believe—

Ella es diferente: She’s different

Jesucristo, Mig: Jesus Christ, Mig

Please please please let me know if any of this is wrong

________

Taglist:

@ineedgarlicbread @pinkiemme @thesilenthill @bontensbabygirl @fallenangelsongwolf @raerorigel @littlefreakymunson @viriexo

@w33ni3 @del-ightfulling

Taglist post here!!!

[faislittlewhiteraven]

Undertale Yellow: An amazing fangame with one glaring thing I hate about it (that I need to rant about or else I'm going to go insane).

As the title says, Undertale Yellow was a game I really enjoyed playing. Lots of fun dialogue and designs, utterly fantastic art and animation (holy hell that Flowey fight! <3 <3 <3), great music and feels, etc. Seriously it deserves a ton of praise, not only as a fully completed fangame that took years of development, but as genuinely amazing prequel to one of my favorite games of all time.

...Unfortunately. Much as I truly enjoyed playing through the majority of the game, when I finished the True Pacifist route I was intensely unhappy with how that went and while the credits scenes and funeral for Cover helped ease some of the worst of it, I cannot help but wonder who the flipping f$%& in the development team thought presenting Clover's suicide as the 'just and happy' ending that all the friend characters accept with barely any argument was a good idea?!

Now to clarify: I went into Undertale Yellow knowing that Clover was going to die and that there were good odds their death was going to be self sacrificial or involve suicide. Undertale Yellow is a prequel to Undertale after all and children being murdered and/or sacrificing themselves for the greater good of lovable monster kind is an established part of the setting.

I came in knowing this game was bound to end tragically. I was excited to see how this game would pull that inevitable tragedy off while exploring the Yellow soul's theme of Justice and staying true to Undertale's established canon.

And all the way right up to the end of the True Pacifist ending I truly thought they'd nailed it: The constant pressure of the monsters suffering and being trapped in the Underground despite their sweet and earnest natures, Dalv's clear issues regarding a human, Starlow's unintentional reinforcement of the 'one sacrifice for the greater good' idea with his trolley problem reenactment, the repeated back to back betrayals from characters who should be friends (the Feisty Five, Starlow, Ceraba) hurting Clover instead, the dull realization in universe for Clover that all their efforts to find the missing human children were all for nothing...

It was fantastic. There was a real sense of looming dread for me, seeing all those moments and just knowing in my gut that after the desperate struggle with the agonized and grieving Ceraba, ranting about how monster kind is doomed as it stands, that Clover would start thinking of sacrificing their life for monster kind, especially when their 'sense of Justice' at the start of the game had them willingly jump into a gaping pit they couldn't have possibly have known the height of, for the sake of mission they (according to Flowey) easily abandon when offered a loving home instead. (aka implying not so great things about how much they value their own life)

So. With all that 'hyped for tragedy' in mind, there I am at the True Pacifist ending. I've just spared Ceraba, the friends are all arguing as to how to keep Clover (and possibly any future humans who fall) safe and Clover begins to go into something of a zone out, thinking about all the things they've heard and seen over the course of their adventure.

This is it! I think to myself as I watch it play out. This is where Clover, after everything they've been through, makes the tragic yet understandable mistake of running away from their friends and confronting Asgore just as Flowey kept encouraging them to! Not to fight and bring Asgore to justice but to try talking him down and when they fail that, offering up their life to help and 'save' their friends even as the narrative will (matching Undertale) will make it clear that this is a mistake and only hurts everyone involved, just like every suicide and child murder in Undertale hurts everyone involved until Frisk is able to end the cycle of pain by rejecting the Kill or be Killed premise and setting the monsters free! Wow, I can't believe it, they set it up so well, what a perfect way to tie into Undertale's greater narrative via tragic prequel, I love this eeeeee!

Except of course that's not what happens.

My first hint something is off is when the quotes Clover's 'remembering' in their little bubble start being way too positive for the set up (also there's nothing from the trolley problem section). The second is when the music shifts from quiet to holy and then outright happy.

And third is when Clover snaps out of it and point blank tells their friends they choose to die. Now, I'm getting a little confused and wary at this but alright, this is a pretty long sequence already but I guess we get to have one final hope moment before Clover somehow gets away from their friends to die (maybe Flowey if not Asgore?)-

-and then I am left absolutely flabbergasted as the friends who just spent the last huge chunk of the game trying to protect Clover/getting talked out of killing them because 'its not right' end up agreeing with Clover's decision after a pitiful amount of arguing against it (where the utterly stupid 'there's no other option' reasoning is used as the primary reasoning despite all the other options being very clearly stated just moments ago), before the woman who's entire massive trauma arc that is centered around her accidentally killing her own child out of blind faith for 'the greater good', proceeds to assist Clover with their suicide (who she clearly views as a surrogate child despite her best attempts not to) while the other characters meekly say goodbye, give hugs and leave all while bittersweet but mostly sweet 'great job honey, this sucks but we're proud of you' music plays (also Flowey says stuff but like, its Flowey so frankly he could say anything and it'd be fine. He's not the issue here).

...Wow.

What a screwed up way for that to end. Like, I clearly get the 'idea' that Clover is meant to be noble and good and such but like, really? A fan game of Undertale (where one of the main ending messages was 'Don't kill and don't be killed', where a child's suicidal attempts to free monster kind lead to every major tragedy in the game, and where suicide was repeatedly shown to only make things worse through Asgore and Alphys in numerous neutral endings) is the game that decides having its protagonist's pointless self sacrifice should be honored and treated as a good ending by the narrative?????

How did none of the otherwise clearly brilliant people working on this miss the very bad, no good implications of Clover's friends being talked into letting them kill themselves and having the narrative frame it as anything but the worst end?????

I have many, many questions. And concerns. And...

Look, I do get it. Undertale Yellow is still a fangame. There are going to be weird notes in the tone due to different writers and such, and I should just be happy that the game was finished it at all, and accept that this god awful scene is probably just the result of its creators really, really wanting their beloved characters to go out as kindly (and beautifully drawn/animated) as possible with all the hugs and feels of canon Undertale without taking into account how much the very different context might warp the tone and the characterizations of everyone in the entire scene.

But like. God damn. There is something very off putting about not letting brave kind Martlet refuse to take this as an answer and then finding she actually can't stop it happening (and no her saying that after like two sentences from 'Ceraba who's judgement about the human sucks' doesn't count). About Starlow not recognising he and his posse might've had something to do with why Clover is thinking this. About Ceraba not on some level going 'IF THIS IS YOUR CHOICE THEN WHY DIDN'T YOU LET ME USE YOU TO SAVE KANAKO?!' Edit: Also a totally waste of prequel opportunity not to let Asgore visibly make the worst choices we canonly know he made on screen. Yes, he gets to stab Clover in the Flawed!Pacist route but Clover's trying to shoot him in that one; the fact we don't get to see him stab a 'far too willing to die for their friends and not defending themselves' Clover as the friend trio can do nothing to stop it from happening feels like such a cop out I swear XD

I'm all for 'Clover dies willingly' at the end of the True Pacifist but they way they did it was just... Really ugh in a way I'm finding tricky to word and I'm honestly shocked I haven't seen more people point it out (though admittedly that might be because I haven't really looked around much). ...So yeah. I know its too late to change said ending but really kinda hoping at some point one of the Undertale Yellow team realizes this might be an issue and thinks to add a content warning in the game's opening or something because it could really use one of those. Also that for any future projects they do, they happen to do a little more research into how to avoid accidentally glorify suicide as opposed to having it as a tragedy because damn they did not manage that here whatsoever.

---

ANYWAY, with all that rant finally out of my head some other stuff about Undertale Yellow I be feeling strongly:

Flowey's boss battle and the lead up to it is incredible and without a doubt makes the neutral route the most amazing well crafted route in the game. 10/10 may have already mentioned this in the massive rant above but if so gonna repeat it anyway because it's just that damn good.

Genocide route being a deconstruction of the 'disproportionate revenge is justice' 90s Anti Hero is very cool theme wise but the lack of the lack of stuff like notes in shops saying 'please don't kill my family' and monsters with less screen time getting more fleshed out drags it down a little, as does Clover not actually choking on dust or getting attacked by the human souls or something at the very end. Really do love the Martlet battle flashback moments and Axel's horrifically timed confession scene though.

The general uselessness of the ACT menu in big 'endurance' fights as well as the lack of 'alternative sparing ACTS' makes fights a lot less fun than they could be and I found myself a lot less willing to use them in general as a result despite them being my favorite thing about Undertale. Did still adore what fun stuff was in them though so I think it's just a case of them being a tad too out of focus compared to the bullet hell gameplay (which I'm not that good at) for my tastes.

Pacifist route could've really used some more optional hangouts and/or letters from the main friends. As is, the peak 'hang out' part of the game for me was the nap room I spent maybe two minutes in, and Dalv especially could've benefitted a ton from a bit more presence (I got more interaction from Mo and the rabbit who's tongue was stuck to a pole and I'm not happy about that? If nothing else not getting to see the inside of Martlet's house or help Dalv build his new home feel like lost opportunities).

Personal pet peeve and nothing too serious but not a fan of Asgore not getting the kill on Clover outside of Flawed Pacifist. Makes sense on most routes (glares at T!Pacifist again) given the way the plot is set up and all but given Toby Fox has repeatedly stated Asgore killed all the humans who fell post Chara it just drives me nuts XD (As does the poor Blue Soul getting treated as a killer/evil but like, I can see where people are coming on that one and Undertale Yellow uses that to amp up Chujin's nightmare fuel vibes fantastically so I shall reluctantly congratulate that theory's use there and steel myself for the inevitable 'wait you're using Undertale Yellow lore but Axis didn't kill Integrity?' questions that will be posted on my 'will eventually be posted' Undertale fanfics XDDDD)

Love all the main cast, especially Martlet, and I am way too hyped for the day Undertale Yellow and its main cast get their own fandom tags on AO3.

...Kanako's death was incredibly stupid and avoidable but like, that's kind of what I like about it? I really also wanna know which Amalgamite she became (I'm thinking probably the one that tucks Frisk in to sleep and pats them on the head because of her and Ceraba's little 'going to sleep' game but like, I could see a very heart wrenching case for her being part of So Cold as well).

Anyone reading this who somehow hasn't played Undertale Yellow should really stop reading this and go play the game. It's free, its (one major thematic issue I have moral objections to aside) pretty decently written, and hey, more Undertale stuff to have fun making fanworks with <3

Goddamn has Undertale Yellow kicked my drive to write Undertale fanfic into overload XD Thank you Undertale Yellow team for helping me get all fired up again and sorry about all the grr but dang it, it needed to be said and now that it's out of my system I can throw myself into finding ways to incorporate your settings and characters into fanworks of my own (admittedly the AU elements might make things kinda tricky -Asgore having to kill EVERY human child even more so- but that nifty little detail of early Royal Guard Martlet having and being willing to abuse her access to the Hotland Lab allows me so many ways to have Chujin be a well meaning awful person and I am living for it!) <3 <3 <3

[nyaagolor]

A genuinely shocking amnt of people said they wanted to see my “Apollo backstory but it’s exclusively based on AA4” so huzzah! Self-indulgence on main! It’s under the readmore because I don’t wanna clog anyone’s dash :)

Everything starts with Thalassa because of course it does. She’s part of the Granmarye Troupe but kinda Hates It. Her father gives her very little autonomy, and she feels like they’re treating her more as an asset or employee than family. She's good at putting on a brave face but she has very little autonomy there and is completely miserable, so she sneaks out to meet with the audience sometimes to get a taste of freedom. It’s on one of these little trips that she meets Jove, who she quickly falls in love with. They continue to meet in secret, and Thalassa’s resentment for the troupe only grows. The day she turns 18, she runs away to go elope with him, not leaving a note or any indication of where she’s gone

The two of them are happily married for a year and have a child, but Jove dies in an accident (unrelated to Kuhrain in this version) only a year into their marriage. Thalassa, now a 19 year old single mom with no money and no documents, realizes the only person who can help her now is the last person she wants to see. Desperate, she calls Magnifi, who agrees to help her IF she gives up the kid and comes back to the troupe. He thinks if she still has an attachment to the child she’ll try and run away again as soon as she can (and he’s right!). Thalassa gives Apollo to the orphanage with one of her bracelets and secretly tries to keep track of him— she does plan on coming back for him as soon as she can, Magnifi be damned

Magnifi, knowing that both Zak and Valant are in love with his daughter, actively encourages the both of them to pursue her, hoping one of them will get her to fall in love and give her a reason not to leave the troupe. Zak is the one who ends up succeeding. They have Trucy together and things immediately take a turn for the worse

Thalassa immediately gets very depressed after having Trucy and nothing seems to cheer her up. She can’t stop thinking about being forced to give up her first child and the life she lost and nothing Zak does seems to help. Eventually, Magnifi steps in and says that she needs to get over it and get back to performing. To everyone’s surprise, Thalassa agrees without protest

This is when the “accident” happens. Air quotes here because surprise! It was not an accident at all. Thalassa was tired, desperate, and wanting nothing more than to go scorched earth on the entirety of Troupe Granmarye, so she loaded the gun improperly on purpose in hopes that the aftermath and scandal will bring the troupe down with her. She somehow survives, but only Magnifi knows. Not wanting news of it to escape and seeing an opportunity to hold this over Zak and Valant’s heads, he ships his amnesiac daughter off to Borgnia and tries to wipe his hands of the whole thing

While clearing through Thalassa’s things, Magnifi finds all of the information on Apollo and Jove, which he shows to Zak. Zak, who didn’t know about Apollo, feels wildly hurt by it all. He ends up projecting a lot of his feelings onto Trucy— he still loves her but becomes more distant because he’s grieving Thalassa’s death and “betrayal”

This is how Zak knows about Apollo and why he tells Phoenix about it. Phoenix does try to find Apollo as soon as he learns about him, HOWEVER, Apollo is trans and all of Thalassa’s documents have his deadname on them so they can’t be used to track him down. (By the time Phoenix realizes Apollo is the kid he’s been looking for ((via the bracelet)) he’s already broken Apollo’s trust enough that he doesn’t feel like he can safely drop that truth bomb without scaring him away. By the time Apollo DOES come to trust Phoenix, Thalassa has her memories back, at which point Phoenix feels it’s her truth to tell). Anyway.

Trucy’s story is effectively identical to canon so I don’t have much to say about that

While in the orphanage, Apollo decides he wants to be a lawyer bc he hears about Phoenix (specifically the whole thing about sticking up for people with no one on their side). He goes thru the lawyer track in HS bc that’s a canon thing in AA apparently and tests into a special fast track law program so he can save as much money on tuition as possible

Apollo works his ass off, he has a ton of jobs and works indexing night shifts for the courthouse. Everyone starts to know who he is bc he works every law related job he can no matter how miserable. This is how Kristoph finds out about him

He works all thru law school but basically all of his money goes to tuition so he goes between shitty apartments and crashing at the courthouse / work when he runs out of rent money. This is the OTHER reason everyone knows who he is and how kristoph finds out about him— he’s always loitering around the courthouse. He makes a name for himself as a hard worker, being fast + thorough with paperwork, and having an excellent eye for detail

During internship hunting season, Kristoph approaches Apollo— he greatly values a dedicated hard worker like Apollo and thinks Apollo’s abysmal financials are good leverage for manipulation. I hc that Kristoph specializes in fraud cases, so Apollo’s talents are extremely relevant to Kristoph’s interests. Kristoph’s firm is only himself because of all the illegal shit he does (less eyes less chance of being caught) so he gambles on taking in Apollo. He ends up personally fixing up Apollo’s credit score, ensuring he has proper documents, and gets him set up with a decent paycheck so he can start to develop a savings account. Apollo decides he would die for him

This continues until Kristoph plays a bad hand— he intends on having Apollo defend Phoenix in the hopes that he’ll lose so he can hang the resulting verdict over Apollo’s head to manipulate him. Turnabout Trump happens and Apollo ends up back where he started, broke and with less trust in others than he had before (which is saying a lot). During his internship with Kristoph he managed to get together a tiny rainy day fund and even started to save up for top surgery, but all that money has to be used to cover rent while he’s jobless bc of the Turnabout Trump aftermath. It’s when the money finally runs out that he answers Trucy’s phone call and agrees to work for the WAA

Canon proceeds as normal, but Apollo has extra paranoia because he’s worried all the money and documents and credit that Kristoph gave him were faked. Also, Thalassa doesn't tell Trucy and Apollo about the whole Thing because part of that would be admitting the role she played in how their lives turned out and she is not quite ready to face her demons yet

[bonnie-toyour-clyde]

Just got to s13 in my rewatch and i never noticed before that when Sam’s alone in the bunker w Jack watching him try to use his magic (i think 13x3) he’s reading The Drama Of The Gifted Child which is book about discovering your true self after childhood trauma and repressed anger and the knee jerk instinct to become numb to cope with abuse etc and like…. I love that.

I love that he’s aware that he needs to heal his inner child if he’s going to raise this kid who everyone in the world will hate (especially his own brother, who Jack already looks up to and tries to mimic). And its beautiful seeing him confront Dean for telling Jack he would be the one to kill him when the time came (and it’s heart wrenching to watch Jack sitting on the floor behind the corner like a kid trying to listen to his parents in a screaming match while also staying out of sight to keep himself safe). But…

I also hate that we only see a glimpse of the book’s cover. Like I had to pause in order to read the title. And that’s ALL they give him in the later seasons to show that he’s struggling with all of this. With Lucifer being out, with trying to raise the antichrist to not be the antichrist (which feels strangely displacing, like Jack’s himself from 9 years ago and he’s in the role of Dean but trying desperately to do a better job of making sure the kid knows he’s loved), and losing all of the same people that Dean lost but not being able to grieve for them quite yet. He has soooo much on his plate (as per ush) and the writers refuse to give him any depth about it. Any trauma response other than a clenched jaw and scared eyes. They’re just like Look! He’s reading a book about childhood trauma! Can’t you see he’s traumatized?! and then only show it for a split second.

This is not to say that that’s a bad way to cope at all, again I think it’s amazing that he is reading this book and you can see that it IS helping him - but only if you squint. Its very subtle. Like he isn’t allowed to have upsetting trauma responses anymore, he’s too old for that, he isn’t the baby anymore, Jack is. And that’s really what breaks my heart - it’s the treatment of the (100+ years of) trauma from the cage and from the wall in his mind and from losing his soul as something he should be over by them. He’s a big boy. He can read a book about it, he’ll be okay.

Anyway I’m frustrated by the lack of care for Sam’s healing throughout but especially s12 forward

[art-bvrn]

windows to the soul

✧ socials ✧ inprnt ✧ kofi ✧

we often hear about how eyes are the windows to the soul. i wanted to capture each of the origin companions’ eyes (souls) during the height of their personal quests. so here’s the thought process/background of each drawing:

SPOILERS BELOW IF YOU HAVEN’T FINISHED THE GAME

Astarion - when he looks towards Tav, asking them to help him complete the ritual. how desperate he looks to be free of the torment but also how conflicted he is deep down at having to sacrifice all the spawn. he knows now that cazador was just like him. but the power blinds him to the fact that he will become another cazador.

Gale - when he shares a moment of peace with Tav, watching the conjured sky as he accepts his death. he’ll sacrifice his life for a god who doesn’t care for him, thinking it’s for the best. a god that has taken years of his life and groomed him as a child. he doesn’t see any of that. he only sees that dying will atone for sins that are not even his to begin with.

Karlach - when she defeats enver gortash - the man who was responsible for her pain. yet, it doesn’t help her. it doesn’t bring back all the years she lost. it doesn’t take away the torment. it doesn’t change the fact that she’s dying. there is no glory and no vindication. only this overbearing despair.

Lae’zel - when she looks towards the sky with Tav. she has believed in her god. killed for her. bled for her. but her god is false. everything she believes to be true is not. she doesn’t know how to grieve the loss of her self - of ambitions unfulfilled. her love and pride for her people lay in limbo - a place where she has no choice but to face all these painful questions alone.

Shadowheart - when Tav tells her to do whatever she feels is right. that someone trusts her to trust herself - someone who only remembers bits and pieces of her life. she, who has unknowingly devoted her entire life to a god, now falters, knowing she will be punished for her blasphemy, and ultimately, her betrayal.

Wyll - when the devil asks him to renew his contract to save his father. sweet, young, wyll. only a child when he was cast out yet his love for his father - the man responsible for his exile, a man who he has not seen in years - remains steadfast. ultimately, neither choice grants him his freedom. not from guilt and not from mizora.

NOTE:

hello! i really wasn’t expecting that much love on my previous uploads for the bg3 characters 😭 to be honest i was expecting maybe the occasional bot but to have real people like and reblog and say nice things has truly been amazing!!!

i’ve always been a lurker more than a poster (aside from that one time in 2015 i tried to write imagines for fallout) so i’m still learning proper tumblr etiquette and what not

idk how to respond to the people who reblog and say such nice things in the tags 😭 but know that i see it and appreciate it fully <3

anyway thank you for reading, liking, reblogging, and/or commenting!!! :))

[just-avocado]

Something something Slimecicle lore made me cry

To me she looked nervous, maybe even afraid.

———————————————————————— Personally of the headcanon/theory that the codes are corrupted versions of the dead eggs or at least failed versions of eggs we never got to see since Richas was confirmed by Sophia to not be organic a while back

So the whole Codeflippa situation is especially interesting, I like to think that if it isn’t her corrupted self trying to connect with her dad again (but still failing in many ways to be her old self) that this is still a child that hasn’t known love in a long time if ever

Honestly after being given some time I prefer the latter.

We still don’t entirely know how the Codes work, only that they want to harm. Are they with the Federation? As time has passed it’s seeming more and more like that could be the case. So maybe at first this will be an extremely fucked up experiment the island decided to do on a still grieving father who is just starting to heal. Maybe this could even be a defecting Code, running to the only person it thought might protect it.

 Either way, along comes an egg who looks like the daughter Charlie lost, even is his shock he notices things different about her, her crack, her spelling, but he doesn’t care because somehow his daughter is standing in front of him again. She doesn’t stay for long but she promises to return.

As viewers we’re obviously skeptical, her toast didn’t have avocado on it, she didn’t live long enough to get a crack, she didn’t backflip or fall to pieces once (her other favorite emote), her spelling was weird, plus all the shit with fake eggs recently has given us trust issues

While its very likely she is a fake, Charlie is desperate enough to look past the red flags long enough for her to learn how to be more like Flippa. And that’s why she didn’t want him to tell anyone, because anyone else (minus Mariana) would clock her immediately. 

This will give her time to learn from Charlie, he’s failed before and he’d do anything to protect her from harm again. Even if the entire server is trying to convince him she’s a fake he couldn’t bring himself to hurt her, even if his heart is telling him it’s true. 

Maybe the Code, this egg who never had a family, who has finally experienced the love of a parent, can change. She’ll never replace the daughter he had but Charlie realizes that this egg knows what it’s like to feel completely alone. They both know what it’s like to lash out at those who haven’t had their happiness ripped away from them. Charlie regrets how he acted back then.

It’ll be a rocky road no matter what happens but personally I hope the story takes this route, it’ll hurt much more than the Code simply gaining Charlie’s trust and betraying him within a week or two lmao

[missanthropicprinciple]

There is so much going on in this short scene. I can’t stop thinking about it.

Max has observed that Oskar is desperate to solve a case, perhaps thinking that Oskar is insecure. But after they visit the cemetery Max has finally figured out the root of Oskar’s sadness and restlessness. I can’t blame Max for his fascination and satisfaction at discovering what he feels and knows to be true about this man. This is I think where Max the analyst and Max the friend meet, the intersection of study and caring, when we come to Max’s motivation as a person to help people. Yes, he is fascinated by human nature in a detached way, but he is also very keen to help people. In this scene he is moved by Oskar’s restrained emotion and is struggling not to show emotion, struggling to remain the analyst. I also think that Max wasn't expecting to hear about a child's death. In his profession sympathizing or showing intense emotion is discouraged and I would say the same is true today. But Max can no longer maintain a professional distance because their relationship is not one of patient and therapist. This is partly due to Oskar’s honesty about his feelings.

Oskar is not going to spare anyone’s feelings; he’s going to protect himself. I sympathize with Oskar. He values the fact that Max has noticed his grief when most people likely haven’t, but he is also on the defensive, and rightly so. It’s an insult to be dissected when you don’t want to be, particularly when you're grieving. Oskar did not ask to be psychoanalyzed. He has not consented to be picked apart because he did not ask for help. He desires understanding. He states that he does not want to be “dissected”. When you’re grieving a loved one the last thing you want is someone coldly picking at your brain like you’re a specimen. When you’re grieving you are both your basic self and not yourself at all. You are diminished; your senses are heightened and yet you are numb as well. Oskar just wants to work. He’s clearly still in a lesser period of shock. As you grieve you experience many, if not hundreds, of layers of shock. It’s like you keep waking up over and over again. The shock wears off very gradually. The deeper in shock you are the more you want to just work. You are focused on utility and your brain keeps you numb to prevent more severe damage.

Max might have pushed further with someone else but I think at this point he understands that Oskar is no longer a subject to be observed, no longer someone he can coldly analyze, but a colleague and a friend. He realizes that Oskar is not ready for analysis or therapy but needs understanding and occupation. Max sees Oskar’s hand shake, knows and actually listens when the man tells him he cannot talk about his grief yet. Oskar has taken a great step even telling Max, a young foreign man he barely knows, that all he has is work because his beloved child is dead and his wife has left him. I think that Max understands the enormity of that in this moment. Max says, “if there’s anything I can do to help…” Because he knows that he has to offer support and hold back on his impulse to treat Oskar like a case study.

Max is an example of someone who has the capacity to stay completely cold as a psychoanalyst but his own emotions prevent him from being wholly methodical. In a later scene when Amelia is “cured” he has tears in his eyes. His compassion takes him beyond a single-minded analyst.

The emotion he has in the lecture hall is the same emotion he has in the café, magnified. When Max sees Oskar’s hand shake does he want to reach out and calm him? As a friend you often have that impulse. Oskar has a hard time looking at Max. Human connection and eye contact can stir huge emotions that a person might not be prepared to face. They look at each other briefly. And Max, the observer, looks down with emotion, perhaps even giving Oskar privacy. His shoulders change, no longer proud with youthful overconfidence or even arrogance, but timid and shy. He hunches down just a tiny bit, looking sideways at Oskar. And once Oskar has said he needs to solve the case so he can be “fine” Max instantaneously changes the topic to the case and more importantly how he himself can help Oskar take action.

[bbygirl-aemond]

How Viserys Failed Rhaenyra

Hi everyone! A while back, I made a post here pointing out the irony of how Viserys neglected his children by Alicent when he probably would've really liked them if he'd made an effort to know them. It got reposted to Facebook and Reddit and a lot of people were disagreeing with it because they thought it was too anti-Team Black. So let me be clear that just because I say Viserys mistreated Alicent and her children doesn't mean I'm anti-Team Black, because I think he mistreated Aemma and Rhaenyra just as much. I talked about Alicent and Aemma more in a post here, but I haven't written about Rhaenyra yet. So let's get into that, because I've been wanting to for a while!

In this post, I'm going to address four ways that Viserys failed Rhaenyra: neglecting her in her childhood because she wasn't a boy; pushing her mother into the pregnancy that killed her and then leaving Rhaenyra alone in her grief; grooming and marrying her best friend; and finally refusing to support her as his heir even after naming her such.

Part One: Rhaenyra's Childhood

Now, in the books, the reason Rhaenyra was called "the Realm's Delight" was because Viserys and Aemma struggled to have any children at all and were reportedly very happy and loving when she was born. I do want to acknowledge this. But as several years passed and Aemma was unable to have any more children, Viserys became less doting and more obsessed with a male heir.

In the first episode of the series, a young Rhaenyra tells Alicent that as long as she can remember, a son is the only thing Viserys has ever wanted. This would understandably be difficult for her to reckon with: her loving father becoming more distant and more obsessed with replacing her. It would bring up feelings of abandonment and self-esteem issues, to watch her father try so desperately for another child that he neglects his relationship with her in the process. We're meant to understand in the series that though they might have been close when Rhaenyra was very young, by the time she's around 14 they've become fairly estranged.

Part Two: Aemma

Rhaenyra's estrangement with Viserys clearly doesn't translate over to Aemma. She's shown being quite considerate of her mother even when no one else is (worrying for her comfort when her maids only care about the baby's comfort). Aemma was the one source of unconditional love that Rhaenyra had.

Viserys knows just how difficult and dangerous it is for Aemma to go through pregnancy. He's seen her miscarry and come close to death many times at this point (this is canon). Aemma even admits that she's been pressured by Viserys into getting pregnant, implying she wouldn't choose this for herself. And still Viserys pushes pregnancy after pregnancy on her, hoping for a son, until it kills her. His desire for a son takes Rhaenyra's mother away from her.

And it's awful to poor Rhaenyra, because now she blames herself for her mother's death. What was so wrong with her, that Viserys had to do this? What about her wasn't enough for him? If she'd only been born a boy, then her mother would still be alive. These are all devastating thoughts for a grieving young girl to be dealing with. And it's Viserys's fault that she is.

Viserys doesn't even do Rhaenyra the honor of letting her grieve in peace. He prioritizes his own emotions over his daughter's. He's so caught up in his own grief that Rhaenyra is forced to step up and light her own mother's pyre. That was Viserys's job. As a father, it was his responsibility to do that and spare her the agony of having to give the order. And he's too weak, and too selfish, to do this one thing for her. Rhaenyra has to, at Daemon's prompting, carry out her own mother's funeral. And we see the tears in her eyes, the grief in her face, the betrayal as she looks upon her father and realizes he's forcing her to do this for him.

Part Three: Alicent

In the wake of Aemma's death, Rhaenyra was now motherless. Viserys's guilt was causing him to reach out to her, but a budding relationship cannot replace the closeness she's had with Aemma all her life. The only real other person Rhaenyra is shown to be close to at this time is Alicent. And what does Viserys do?

He marries Alicent. I've linked above why this was so evil of him, but to recap: Alicent is a minor, and a woman, the daughter of a second son with no inherent land or wealth, being manipulated by her father. Viserys marries because he's forced to, but he chooses Alicent in particular because he wants to. Because his lust for her overpowers any consideration for her youth or the fact that she's Rhaenyra's friend. He knows this is wrong, and he knows this will devastate Rhaenyra. This is why he asks Alicent to keep it a secret, knowing that she can't disobey her king. Proving he knows it's wrong and that he knows of the power difference between them.

And he does it anyways. He takes Rhaenyra's best friend, her last remaining close relationship, and he marries her. Alicent is Rhaenyra's stepmother, now; she will birth the sons that jeopardize Rhaenyra's claim. And Alicent is now forced to choose between her children's safety or her friendship with Rhaenyra. It drives an irreparable wedge between them from both ends: Alicent now fears for her children's lives, and Rhaenyra now feels betrayed by her best friend. But they've both been betrayed by Viserys.

Part Four: Rhaenyra's Adulthood

I do want to acknowledge that Viserys does defend Rhaenyra politically three times: first when he names her heir; second when he defends her children after Laena's funeral (at his other children's expense, mind you); and third when he rises from his deathbed to defend her son's claim to Driftmark. I do feel that the first and third of his efforts are commendable. But I don't think they make up for the other ways in which he doesn't help her.

Rhaenyra's upbringing is quite sheltered. She repeatedly demonstrates that she is unaware of the precarious nature of her political position; in her conversation with Daemon after seeing the smallfolk turn on her and in her conversation with Rhaenys where she lords her own exceptionalism over her. We see here that Rhaenys is wiser to the misogyny of Westeros and knows that Rhaenyra will not be an exception to the patriarchy, while Rhaenyra acknowledges that the patriarchy exists but is confident that it will never affect her. This isn't some inherent trait that Rhaenyra has; it is a direct result of how she was raised. It's clear that Viserys did not have a meaningful conversation with her, when he made her heir, about the dangerous position he was putting her in.

In the Great Council of 101 AC, the lords of Westeros all voted between Viserys (the bloodline of the King's second-eldest son) and Rhaenys (the bloodline of the King's eldest son). Law should have dictated that the title pass through the King's eldest sons's bloodline to completion, but because Rhaenys was a woman the lords voted to skip her over and proceed to Baelon's bloodline and Viserys instead. The entire reason Jaehaerys allowed the Council to be called-- allowed Rhaenys's claim to be called into question-- was because he knew it would plunge the Realm into war if she was made heir against the lords' will. Viserys became King because of this. He knows the danger presented by making Rhaenyra heir. And he does not communicate this to her, because he doesn't want to confront it.

When Rhaenyra takes initiative, she proves herself to have qualities fitting of a good leader. Her retrieval of Baelon's egg from Daemon is a perfect example of this. She's able to diffuse the situation, force Daemon to get over being removed as heir, and retrieve the egg like her father wished. I really think things would have become violent between Otto and Daemon if she hadn't intervened and it would have been disastrous.

But Viserys doesn't let Rhaenyra continue to grow into being a leader, to continue to have these experiences where she can stretch her wings. He refuses to give her any meaningful political responsibilities, and keeps her as a cup-bearer, subservient to the members of the Council. She isn't taken seriously as a cup-bearer, as mentioned by Rhaenys and demonstrated during the Daemon incident, so this position isn't really helpful to her.

He also does nothing when she begins to have very obvious bastard children outside of her marriage with Laenor. I've said before and will say again that Rhaenyra was very smart to go outside her marriage, but not so smart to choose a baby daddy that didn't resemble Laenor. She would've been better served with a baby daddy who at least had blond hair and lighter eyes, because even if he'd violated her trust there would have been no physical evidence to support the rumors. It's the physical proof that's damning; the fact that everyone knows what her children are just by looking at him. The Velaryons' support doesn't change the boys' appearances. Even Viserys, the King, is unable to defend Rhaenyra when Aegon points out the physical evidence in the Driftmark episode; he can only change the topic, and you bet your ass that every single person in that room notices this, because it confirms the bastard rumors to be true.

Honestly, I feel like this is all a consequence of Viserys's failure to educate Rhaenyra about how shaky her claim was and how significant of a burden he was placing upon her. This is what we often see of the first person to break a precedent, such as the first female ruler: they're held to unfair standards. And it's most definitely unfair, and misogynistic, but Rhaenyra risks war breaking out by simply existing and really can't afford to destabilize things further by alienating lords who don't want bastards to try to usurp their or their trueborn children's claims.

After the Driftmark episode, the bastard rumors have become enough of a problem that Rhaenyra feels King's Landing is hostile to her, and rightfully so. But when she asks to go away to Dragonstone, Viserys allows it. This is such a big mistake and I can't emphasize it enough. If she'd stayed at King's Landing, Rhaenyra would have continued to be a visible presence in the court and by Viserys's side. If Viserys had let her stay, and had allowed her to begin making decisions and taking on responsibility, it would have helped a lot to cement her claim. She would've already had one foot in the door.

Finally, Viserys should have stepped down once he became quite ill. He spent a long time in significant decline, basically unable to rule anyways. Someone was going to be regent in all but name, and by allowing Rhaenyra to leave Viserys ensured that regent would be Otto. He allowed the Greens to build the foundation of political support and experience ruling that would enable them to crown Aegon-- the foundation that should have been Rhaenyra's.

It would have been incredibly helpful to Rhaenyra to have the public support of the previous King for the first several years of her reign. People wouldn't have been able to turn against her as readily (cough cough Otto cough cough). And again, as years passed and she actually lived and made decisions as Queen, she would've proven to be a decent enough ruler and there would be time for the murmurings of unhappy lords to settle. Viserys could have died having seen Rhaenyra sit on the throne for years.

But Viserys did none of this. And when he died, Rhaenyra was miles away from Dragonstone, with no presence or supporters in King's Landing and no experience with leadership. And the Greens, who had been ruling in all but name for years, which everyone knew, who had been able to make allies of the court without competition for years, were perfectly poised--by none other than Viserys--to take Rhaenyra's throne.

[hijinks-n-lowjinks]

hiii i hope you're well, for the anime asks: 2, 6, 8, 11, 22, 23, 24, 29!

Oooooooo I am READY to answer all of these questions omg thank you for picking so many!!!!

2. first anime crush 

Kyo Sohma from Fruits Basket. I watched the 2001 anime back when I was in middle school and I remember convincing myself I was genuinely in love with him, it was so bad. I wrote self-insert fanfiction about him falling in love with me on Wattpad. I no longer have those feelings for him lol but I do love him as a character, he's one of my all time favorites.

6. popular anime you didn’t like

I wouldn't say that I didn't like Kuroko no Basket, but it just didn't interest me. I watched about ten episodes before dropping it, I just didn't care for any of the characters and there wasn't anything that made me want to see them succeed.

8. anime character you are most like

I heavily identify with both Yuki Sohma from Fruits Basket and Deku from mha. There are certain people pleasing aspects and a desperation to be liked and accepted from both of them that I really identify with. I also identify a lot with Megumi from jjk and Oikawa from hq, but that's in more of a resigned depression/fear of failure sort of way.

11. anime you didn’t expect to like but did

I don't typically start shows I think I'll dislike, but I was surprised by how much I loved Mob Psycho 100 and Seraph of the End. Both of those became instant favorites when I got into them when I was only expecting to have a standard enjoyment of them.

22. age you started watching anime/person who introduced you to it. 

I was in fifth or sixth grade I believe? I had a friend that was a few years older than me that was really into anime and she got me to start watching InuYasha with her and that's basically how it started.

23. unpopular character you love

Gabi from AOT. I LOVE how complex and nuanced her character is. The hate this brainwashed child soldier gets is insane to me. I grieved when Sasha died, but I also understand how Gabi is specifically written to be a foil to Eren—she's has the same rage and hatred and drive that Eren does, but she's able to understand that the world isn't black and white much faster than Eren did. Seeing her slowly grasp that what she's been taught is skewed and twisted by ignorance and fear was amazing, one of my favorite parts of AOT.

24. popular character you hate 

Hisoka. I have no clue how he's so popular, I barely gave af about him when I watched the show and he's such a creep, I was always glad when he wasn't around. His ability is cool I guess, but he's just so.... icky. The most interesting about him is his connection to the Phantom Troupe and honestly I can't remember much about their interactions after season 2.

29. anime that deserves another season

Seraph of the End, easily. The show became SUCH a hyperfixation for me when I watched it that I binge read the manga because I needed more. Honestly, I just want to see Mika again and I think the story really picks up from where the anime ends (it does sort of get jumbled and messy further down the line, but I can ignore that).

[hamliet]

Rereading A Clash of Kings

In light of my recent Fire & Blood reread, I decided to reread the whole ASOIAF series because, well, why not. Below are some general observations/musings on the themes, character arcs, alchemy, and foreshadowing of book 1. I’ll do this for the others as well. It’s not really a meta so much as observations and thoughts.

Thoughts on A Game of Thrones here.

Themes

Duty vs Love

"Do you want to be loved, Sansa?" "Everyone wants to be loved."

"I see flowering hasn't made you any brighter," said Cersei. "Sansa, permit me to share a bit of womanly wisdom with you on this very special day. Love is poison. A sweet poison, yes, but it will kill you all the same."

Incorrect.

But actually, it's not so simple. Yes, love makes you weak to a degree, but love also restores, and a loveless existence is something that turns you into Cersei. Not a good thing. Stannis, too, doesn't need to be loved, and this will destroy him.

However, all of our heroes mention wanting to be loved. Tyrion pays Shae to pretend she loves him. Sansa wants to be loved. Daenerys wants to be loved. Arya even thinks it. Theon desperately wants love from his father, and does terrible things to get it.

Catelyn also betrays her own son to free Jaime out of love--love for her daughters. She utterly throws duty away for love, which is very understandable, and yet also something that is going to contribute to the Red Wedding in the next book.

Identity and Illusions

A key element of Romantic literature is focusing on the internal, not the external. Part of that includes a focus on the self: who am I? where do I fit into the world? Y'know, that Jungian and human stuff.

A Clash of Kings focuses on that to an extreme, deconstructing the assumptions the characters have about themselves.

We have Catelyn at her childhood home in Riverrun, watching her father's life flow out. She angsts about her role as a mother, and loses more and more children. Robb is a king now, and their roles are now reversed to a degree: he gives her orders, not the opposite. Her sons Bran and Rickon are "killed." Arya and Sansa are lost. In the end, she becomes a traitor, the thing Ned was falsely executed for, against her own son.

Arya chooses many new names for herself. She never felt like she fit in as a girl, so at the start of the book, she's a boy named Arry. When Yoren and the others are killed, she adopts the name Weasel, named for a real girl who ran off into the woods and hasn't been seen since. There's longing here: Arya sees herself in the child, who grieved openly and loudly and annoyed everyone else but whom Arya couldn't abandon. She gives herself that name, but she still cannot grieve openly. It's not safe.

When you cannot grieve, you turn to vengeance. Arya murders a man in cold blood with her own hands escaping Harrenhal at the end of the book. Hot Pie expresses horror, which yes, is negative framing even if it's not for no reason that Arya did it.

Jon affirms himself as a man of the Night's Watch over and over, but at the end of the book he's told by Qhorin Halfhand that being a man of the NW might mean betraying the Night's Watch. Sometimes, duty itself is betrayal--and of course, it's a change in his identity. He's to infiltrate Mance Raydar's troops. Since Mance too was once a Night's Watchman, it taunts Jon with the possibility of losing identity.

"They only spare oathbreakers. Those who join them, like Mance Rayder." "And you." "No." He shook his head. "Never. I won't."" You will. I command it of you." "Command it? But . . . " "Our honor means no more than our lives, so long as the realm is safe. Are you a man of the Night's Watch?"

But we're also given hints that identity is not always what it seems. Ygritte tells Jon "Be that as it may, what's certain is that Bael left the child in payment for the rose he'd plucked unasked, and that the boy grew to be the next Lord Stark. So there it is-you have Bael's blood in you, same as me." Who is a wildling, and who is a Stark? It's not clear.

Theon is an identity mess in this book. He asserts himself a Greyjoy, but his father mocks him as being a Stark. Even when he's committing atrocities on behalf of House Greyjoy, he does it thinking of... well:

Theon told himself he must be as cold and deliberate as Lord Eddard. 

He keeps waffling about whom he is, and then plays on identity himself. He murders and burns the miller's boys, calling them Rickon and Bran. And he takes Reek into his service, when Reek turns out to be Ramsay Bolton. Reek, of course, is who Theon will become--and it is also who Theon could become. Not the sniveling, pathetic creature Reek, but instead Ramsay himself, if he lets his lack of love from his father consume him.

Sansa, of course, must pretend to be in love with Joffrey, while clinging to her blood as a Stark. She does all she can to stay herself, to believe in knights and kindness, and saves who she can when she can.

Davos, too, has a primary conflict about identity. He is a father, a smuggler, a loyal servant to Stannis because he admires Stannis' justice. But when he sees Melisandre and her demon shadow babies, he clearly wonders whether or not Stannis is still justice, even if subconsciously. After losing three sons in the battle of Blackwater Bay, he's set up to see a conflict between his identity as a father and his position with Stannis.

Tyrion... oof. I've already talked about how he asked Shae to become Tysha, under the delusion that he would be in control this time. He falls for Shae anyways, that is very clear, and everyone gets hurt for it. He hasn't been able to grieve openly for Tysha, and as a result he's stuck in a cycle. Plus, throughout the book he's the one saving everyone in King's Landing, and he still gets the hatred of everyone around him for it. When the novel ends, he's survived battle and an assassination attempt, and he now looks like the monster the people call him. But is he? (No.)

Daenerys... I'll talk more about her in the alchemy section below, but her entire arc is about learning who she is as the last Targaryen. She also learns about what magic is, and how rotten it appears under the surface. The heart in the House of the Undying is "a human heart, swollen and blue with corruption, yet still alive. It beat, a deep ponderous throb of sound, and each pulse sent out a wash of indigo light. The figures around the table were no more than blue shadows. As Dany walked to the empty chair at the foot of the table, they did not stir, nor speak, nor turn to face her. There was no sound but the slow, deep beat of the rotting heart." If you lose yourself in prophecies, you become a shadow of a person.

Look Back or Be Lost

In addition, Dany's prophetic narrative connects strongly to Jon's in terms of themes: sometimes to accomplish goals, you must do something that looks like the opposite of accomplishing your goals. It's all part of the journey. Sounds like a theme that might be emphasized by oh, the hero accidentally burning King's Landing:

"To go north, you must journey south. To reach the west, you must go east. To go forward you must go back, and to touch the light you must pass beneath the shadow."

Still, I do think this indicates that Daenerys's journey ends in the north, not in the south. Quaithe would have otherwise said "to go south, you must go north." And technically, Dany still is going to stop in the east (Essos) before going west (to Westeros). To go forward and be a hero, she'll have to look back. In contract to "if I look back, I am lost," looking back is exactly what will save her in her darkest hour, I believe. While Dany assumes the shadow references Asshai, and it's possible this was once the plan, I think there are lots of other interpretations of this... including Jungian. Symbolically, to be a hero, you have to accept your shadow, or the negative elements, which Dany is absolutely denying in this book with "If I look back, I am lost."

Alchemy

Let's start off with Daenerys and identity. I talked about how A Game of Thrones ends with her reborn as red sun, as opposed to white moon. She then wanders through the Red Waste, which is filled with pools that are "scalding hot and stinking of brimstone." (Brimstone is sulfur.)

The rest of the story is about her encountering white and moon and finding it does not fit her anymore. They stay at an abandoned city "pale as the moon and lovely as a maid." It's abandoned, empty, filled with only loneliness. Then they arrive in Qarth, a white city, only to find it is rotten to the core. Daenerys has to leave the white behind. She's even noted to no longer be comfortable under her old markings:

 Dany's tight silver collar was chafing against her throat. She unfastened it and flung it aside.

Other marking details include Sansa being solidified as white and the moon, with her wearing "a moonstone hair net." However, both Sansa and Arya have been having attempts to dye them red... that aren't good things. Most notably, Arya throwing wine on Sansa's white silk in the first book, and here:

The Lorathi brought the blade to Arya still red with heart's blood and wiped it clean on the front of her shift. "A girl should be bloody too. This is her work."

Arya ends the book after murdering a man thinking that the rain (water) will wash the blood off her hands.

Metals

Robert was the true steel. Stannis is pure iron, black and hard and strong, yes, but brittle, the way iron gets. He'll break before he bends. And Renly, that one, he's copper, bright and shiny, pretty to look at but not worth all that much at the end of the day."

Stannis isn't just iron; he's lead and tin as well. Robert is iron. Renly is copper, the highest of base metals (probably the best to be a king among the Baratheon brothers), but still, well, a base metal.

Oaths

The oaths the Reeds swear to Bran seem to be somewhat alchemical in nature:

"Hearth and heart and harvest we yield up to you, my lord. Our swords and spears and arrows are yours to command. Grant mercy to our weak, help to our helpless, and justice to all, and we shall never fail you." "I swear it by earth and water," said the boy in green. "I swear it by bronze and iron," his sister said. "We swear it by ice and fire," they finished together.

All the colors that had been missing from Vaes Tolorro had found their way to Qarth; buildings crowded about her fantastical as a fever dream in shades of rose, violet, and umber. "On the morrow, you shall feast upon peacock and lark's tongue, and hear music worthy of the most beautiful of women. The Thirteen will come to do you homage, and all the great of Qarth.

Foreshadowing

Again, George's foreshadowing is sometimes odd. Still:

Varys smiled. "Here, then. Power resides where men believe it resides. No more and no less." "So power is a mummer's trick?" "A shadow on the wall," Varys murmured, "yet shadows can kill. And ofttimes a very small man can cast a very large shadow."

This pretty clearly foreshadows f!Aegon, the "mummer's dragon." He's a shadow, which may kill but also is not real because he isn't the actual Targaryen Aegon VI. Tyrion concludes this conversation by asking Varys "who are you?" again hinting that Varys' identity is the key to his motives (he is a Blackfyre).

Arya and Sansa's relationship was troubled in AGOT, but they miss each other. When Arya wishes for King's Landing to be destroyed by water (again water=Arya), she thinks: Sansa was still in the city and would wash away too. When she remembered that, Arya decided to wish for Winterfell instead.

Bran has a crush on Meera for sure: the girl caught him staring at her and smiled. Bran blushed and looked away.

Catelyn thinks to herself: the face of a drowned woman, Catelyn thought. Can you drown in grief? Well, considering what will happen to Catelyn's body after the Red Wedding (being resurrected out of a river)... seems pretty clear foreshadowing.

Lastly, Daenerys's prophecies will get their own section, but another thing of note is that right after Dany's chapter about the blue rose that smells sweet growing from a chink in the ice, Jon's next chapter contains this line from Qhorin to Jon:

Sometimes a man forgets how pretty a fire can be.

Both have beauty associated with the other, along with their primary element.

Prophecies

Oh Seven the chaos. The first visions of Dany in the House of the Undying are obvious--Westeros being ravaged by the war; Robb turning to Dany for justice for the Red Wedding (again, Dany is seen to be a friend, as hope, to/for the Starks, not an enemy).

She then sees two visions of her past, bringing back the "If I look back I am lost" idea. She sees her childhood home with the Red Door, and she sees the dangerous past that she hasn't let herself face yet: her father, Aerys, essentially screaming to burn them all.

Then here's the chaos: Viserys's death, Rhaego (what could have been). Rhaegar's death, saying Lyanna's name.

mother of dragons, daughter of death

Dany has embraced the former, but she also needs to embrace the latter. That doesn't mean becoming a harbinger of death; in fact, facing her legacy of slavery and death (the Targaryen history) means the opposite.

Glowing like sunset, a red sword was raised in the hand of a blue-eyed king who cast no shadow....

A cloth dragon swayed on poles amidst a cheering crowd. From a smoking tower, a great stone beast took wing, breathing shadow fire. . . . mother of dragons, slayer of lies . . .

Oh hi, Stannis and Aegon. Aegon's not a real Targaryen anymore than Stannis is the real Azor Ahai: instead, she has to slay both of their lies.

Her silver was trotting through the grass, to a darkling stream beneath a sea of stars. A corpse stood at the prow of a ship, eyes bright in his dead face, grey lips smiling sadly. A blue flower grew from a chink in a wall of ice, and filled the air with sweetness. . . . mother of dragons, bride of fire . . .

This seems to pretty clearly represent Drogo, Euron, and Jon.

 . . three heads has the dragon . . .

Pretty standard ish? I would guess it's Daenerys, Jon, and Tyrion, though Bran is a possibility.

three fires must you light . . . one for life and one for death and one to love . . .

Okay. Again, I think for life is clearly understood to be Drogo's pyre to hatch the dragons. Death is likely the conflagration to burn King's Landing, even if accidental (my guess is Dany knows some of KL will burn but sets off the wildfyre, but not intentionally). To love is likely to defeat the Others.

three mounts must you ride . . . one to bed and one to dread and one to love . . .

There seems to be debate about whether this applies to literal rides or to Daenerys's love interests. If the former, it would likely be Dany's silver, then Drogon, and then... no idea. This seems likely to me, yet the distinct lack of a third one makes me question whether this is really the accurate interpretation, or if it's intentionally something that can be interpreted either way.

The husband one could be Drogo/Daario, Euron, and Jon. Yes, Euron. I do think Danaerys's struggle in A Dream of Spring will be between love in Jon and power in Euron. Again, the positioning of the ship between the clear Drogo/silver mount and Jon as the blue rose makes me think this is a distinct possibility.

three treasons will you know . . . once for blood and once for gold and once for love . . .

Again, Mirri Maz Duur is likely the first one, and possibly Jorah or the Harpies are the gold, or even Illyrio, or something to do with King's Landing. But the last one is interesting. I think people assume this is Jon killing Dany thanks to That Show, but I think the preposition indicates something that breaks a pattern. She's going to know three treasons. Who's to say she's the betrayed in every instance? "For" implies action, which makes me wonder if Daenerys will "betray" Jon in the endgame to save the world, via not sacrificing him as her love but instead sacrificing herself to save the world and him in it.

Again, the obvious thing is that love is Dany's endgame. Love, love, love. Not choosing ambition over love, Show That Shall Not Be Named.

[msclaritea]

Eric Photo Shows off the Benedict Cumberbatch Netflix Series

FEBRUARY 1, 2024

BY SPENCER LEGACY

A new Eric photo has been unveiled by Netflix, teasing the Benedict Cumberbatch series that will be released this year — no exact release date window was given.

“Set in 1980s New York, Eric is a new emotional thriller from Abi Morgan following the desperate search of a father when his nine-year-old son disappears one morning on the way to school,” reads the film‘s synopsis. “Vincent, one of New York’s leading puppeteers and creator of the hugely popular children’s television show, ‘Good Day Sunshine,’ struggles to cope with the loss of his son, Edgar, becoming increasingly distressed and volatile.

“Full of self-loathing and guilt around Edgar’s disappearance, he clings to his son’s drawings of a blue monster puppet, ERIC, convinced that if he can get ERIC on TV, then Edgar will come home. As Vincent’s progressively destructive behavior alienates his family, his work colleagues, and the detectives trying to help him, it’s Eric, a delusion of necessity, who becomes his only ally in the pursuit to bring his son home.”

You can see the new Eric photo below:

Who made Eric?

Eric was made and written by Abi Morgan and directed by Lucy Forbes. The series stars Benedict Cumberbatch, Gaby Hoffman, and McKinley Belcher III and was executive produced by Abi Morgan, Jane Featherstone, Lucy Dyke, Lucy Forbes, and Benedict Cumberbatch.

"... a father when his nine-year-old son disappears one morning on the way to school..."

A repeat of the narrative in the BBC series Ben did, about his missing daughter. AND very fucking triggering for real parents

“Vincent"

Doctor Strange's middle name

‘Good Day Sunshine,’

Isn't that a fucking Beatles song?

"...becoming increasingly distressed and volatile..."

Just like in every other film, Benedict gets forced into.

"blue puppet.."

Another way to put a code for water in the film; a threat and trigger

What I'm seeing is that members of the cult get a crack at torture of the Monarch. It ends here. Benedict, you now have a growing list of NEGATIVE rather than positive projects on your CV. I guarantee your fans are not going to be happy seeing you in repetitive, B level, triggering shite. Normally, an actor only plays a bereaving parent ONCE (cheesy 70s films, do not apply)

YOU have now played a grieving parent of a young child, twice. I'm not even impressed that you're listed as a Producer. Because I know you had nothing to do with the script, but people will think you did, and that you're ripping off your own stuff. So over the self-loathing, sad, slowly cracking up bullshit.

TEWSF...CRAP

BOOK OF CLARENCE...CRAP

ERIC...CRAP!

Benedict, get your shit together. I mean it.

[paper-poppy]

Horizon

Hair wiping under the cloak, strained eyes up at the light aspected sky. Familiar with its imposing force of nature, a long sigh escaped her lips. 

Beyond the horizon line led to this. Not her daughter. 

What a failure.

With a flick of her cloak she hurried back inside, hands gripped on the fabric, her knuckles white from the frustration that led to her situation. 

—-

An hour earlier..

With a hard thud, and a body rolling off the table to another thud on the cold crystal floor, Xiela groaned. Sore and dazed, in body, and vision hazy welcomed her to this world once more.

Nothing ever escaped his sight in the tower so she was quickly greeted by its caretaker. 

With a disgruntled wave she nodded in his direction. Already breaking rule number one, don't be noticed. And already frustrated that this isn't the right time she wanted, she shut her eyes tightly. 

‘Why here. I don't need to be here.’, she thought angrily.

It's caretaker, confused and slightly bewildered. It appeared to him like an older Xiela but how could that be? More importantly it made his heart skip thinking his plan does work in the end and that she's saved. Not trying to get ahead of himself he drew close.

“Are you okay?”

“Not exactly.” 

“I'll get you something, then perhaps we can talk?”

“Yes but I need you to summon someone before we speak any further.”

“....who?”

—

After confirming the outside sky and with Rella’s summoning and arrival from Ill Mheg, Xiela stood before them.

Making them promise secrecy and that in the end they must have their memories wiped. To preserve time and space, no one should know their own future. 

“I am regretful of my actions. And asking for your aide, please help me get home.”, bowing her head, Xiela pleaded.

Rella shook her head, “I cannot do that.”

“What? Why not?”, already worrying her plan has come undone, Xiela shifted uncomfortably.

“I am a timekeeper. History recorder. I can erase the exarch's memories but not my own. Do not worry I will not change history with this knowledge.”, Rella explained calmly.

Nodding, Xiela understood that reasoning and accepted it.

“...I agree to it then. I cannot have you stuck here. That would be too cruel.”, he said softly. He didn't like having his memories altered, but this didn't seem like an ascian trick or Eulmorean origin either. Confirming with a look Rella materialized a crystal with a red shade in hue. 

“Return this to me once you are ready to go home. I will take care of the rest.”, Rella calmly said but there was a force behind her voice. 

Explaining the rest Xiela sat down in a nearby chair and was exhausted, not having slept at all the past day and was desperately needing rest both physically and emotionally.

Rella hid a small smile, it was comforting to see her friend grow older in the future, a untimely death wouldn't take her, doomed Rella prevented it. But to the task at hand now. 

“I can't stay here. I still have my post in Ill Mheg.”, Rella excused herself, leaving the technical time travel work to the exarch.

The two of them waved goodbye to Rella and they were left alone.

Xiela knew exactly what kind of memory vessel Rella had made. It latched on to specifics in a person's memory, but once it was out of range of said person it would be wiped and recorded into the crystal forever. All it needs is just to be picked up…

—-

While hearing about her younger self's exploits she cringed and apologized on behalf to the Exarch. It calmed him down when he was at his wits end with present Xiela. Perhaps this was the true source of why he was so patient back then…

Chatting over tea and cookies, the older woman found solace in his company. The same was for him, he knew the desperation of going for lengths to save someone. Not knowing how deeply a mother would feel over grieving a child, he did everything he could whenever he wasn't working on sending her home. 

Always hiding in shadows and never letting any ascians see her, Xiela had to be careful. Emet-Selch was never far off from them.

Months started to pass by. Weariness was setting in.

It got to the point where Xiela was getting restless being  cooped up in the tower hidden, asking the exarch for a glamour to be casted on her so she could walk about freely. 

“I don't see why not, you understand the gravity of the situation and would never do something to endanger the future.”, He agreed and deferred to her judgment.

“Thank you so much, I greatly appreciate this, you are too kind.”, Xiela smiled gently at him. Under the hood he returned the smile back.

Given a bit of an allowance, she browsed the stalls. A nice journal for her thoughts. Bottling everything up has been her go to for awhile now, nevertheless the time spent away from her family is taking a great toll.

A small commotion was happening a few stalls down. 

“Whatever you say, your highness.”, a snide comment escaped the girl who was walking away from the exarch. Her darkened expression filled the whole avenue with dreary clouds.

Feeling uncomfortable and awkward she stared at her younger self making a fool of herself. Looking back and in real time, it's amazing they actually ended up together. How she longed to smack her younger self and set her straight, but time unravels at its own pace. 

Shaking her head she pressed on with her shopping.

—--

Slipping back into the tower she walked fast back to her room, feeling the overwhelming urge to finally explode and to let the tears fall away. 

‘What if I can never go back? I never get to find Marzia? I never get to see Xixi’s wedding.. Luca has to be raised alone.. Emil…’, the turmoil growing too much, her body was racked with grief filled sobs.

‘Raha.. it's my fault, it's all my fault'

‘I should have listened’

‘im so sorry my love’

‘im so’

The writing trailed off the page as she threw the journal away from her. Wanting to abandon her feelings and her hatred of herself she went to the bathroom to wash her face. Irritated red teary eyes met her in the mirror. 

Hearing a quiet knock at the door she hesitantly went to it. 

“Who is it?”Her throat was still irritated with her earlier crying.

“It's me”, Exarch replied back softly. “I apologize for visiting so late, I heard-.. I wanted to offer you a meal.”

“I never did take the time to eat today… Thank you for being kind. But perhaps another time, I.. I am not in the mood to pretend I'm okay.”, she felt it best to be honest.

“I'd rather you be honest, if that's alright.”, a gentle smile from him, made her want to crumble right there. She missed him so much.

“...if you don't mind.. I'd like someone to talk to then.”, Cracking the door wide for him to pass, they both sat at the table.

—--

They both had been chatting for hours and enjoying each other's company. This hasn't been the first time that they've shared meals together, but the first time with a bit of wine. 

Xiela stared at the liquid in her cup, moving it around and letting it aerate. Getting lost in the movement of the wine, she felt similar, being tossed about this way and that. No choice in the matter now. 

“You're married, yes?”, breaking her melancholy string of thoughts she snaps back to reality.

“Yes.. yes I am, I miss him very much.”, smiling sadly she took another sip of the wine.

“He must be a very lucky man”, the exarch smiled softly. “Aside from.. your one daughter. Do you have other children?” 

“Yes, the eldest, Xira.. she's supposed to get married soon.. I guess since I'm in the past I still haven't missed it but.. if I never make it back..”, Xiela hesitantly stops before her voice breaks. She shook her head and reined in her thoughts. “Then there's Emil, he loves his garden, it used to be mine but it's been taken over by him. I don't mind, I'm so glad he has something to work with and he finds it fulfilling. He doesn't let things get him down…”, brushing her bangs back and sighing. “Then there's Luca, the twin brother of Marzia, he has a lot of things happening inside him, sometimes I don't know how to help him.. I don't know how it got to this point..” 

“You have a wonderful family. I'm so glad. Truly.”, exarch smiled. His sacrifice led to this, he thought to himself. It was worth it in the end. If she gets to be happy.

Taking another swig out of frustration, she couldn't hold back her tears anymore. “I'm sorry, I miss them all so much. I want to return home already. I can't take much more without seeing them.”

“...there's something I need to mention-”, he gently said but was interrupted by his drinking companion.

“No I don't want to hear it- tell me it tomorrow-”

“But you may want to- also careful-”, bumping into him and trying to keep her balance on the chair she giggled. 

“Did you know, fun fact! You're so cute!!!”, and he had already lost her.

“Please don't say that-”, he sighed but a part of him was glad she wasn't exactly crying anymore.

“Why? Why can't I say that of my husband?”, she looked at him with her big magenta eyes. Had he not known her actual age, he would have thought she was 20 with her mannerisms. 

“...what. He isn't here. Don't get me confused with him”, he started to inch away from her but she grabbed his hand. 

“W-wait! I'm not! Don't go! Oh please don't go!”, inadvertently freezing him in place with her ability.

“I'm scared to be alone.” 

[senpiecakes]

Part 1: Closure

Notes: This will be a continuation of ‘So Close, Yet So Far’ cause it’s been eating my mind ever since I wrote the first parts. I’ve also been listening to nothing but Like You Do by Joji to push me into writing this (recommend listening to it while reading) and idk why but I kinda cried on every part. It's also 1k words per part :,)

Parts: So Close, Yet So Far Part 1, Closure Pt. 2

Summary: He fucked up, didn’t he? How will he get closure for losing you that way?

Characters: Diluc, Kaeya, Zhongli, Xiao, Childe.

Warning/s: Mentions of death on Zhongli and Childe’s part. Mentions of violence on Childe’s part.

Theme/s: Getting back together? Angst to Comfort, Getting over grief.

Diluc

To say that Diluc was a mess since you left was an understatement. He was an absolute wreck. At first, he couldn’t understand why his entire body agonized so greatly at the suddenness of your leaving. When his father died and his brother ‘betrayed’ him, Diluc only secluded himself and grieved- mostly feeling anger taking form into his now current self. But when you left, it was different. He mourned as if you died, wept bitter tears as he was once again placed in his darkest state of mind. Diluc experienced the emotions he had suppressed ever since that day; the two most important people in his life left him, now it was you, and the despair manifested itself once more to torment him. He hated himself for being so weak then; unable to save his father and unable to make up with Kaeya. Diluc has hated himself, even more so now since he couldn’t bring himself to show an ounce of appreciation for someone who did nothing but love him and understand what he’s going through. So, who else was to blame but him?

Sometimes, Diluc abandons his duties; paperwork piled up on his desk unfinished, Angel’s Share being managed by Charles for nights in a row, the threats against Mondstadt rising without the help of the Darknight Hero. What’s the use of all this? Diluc wonders. If you’re not here with me. Sometimes, Diluc cries; through the walls of Dawn Winery would the nosy young maids hear Master Diluc cry in his empty bed the same way he did those years ago, in the same manner you used to do when you’re alone. His already restless sleep is haunted by nightmares of you disappearing from his life. His hands would search for empty comfort in the side that used to be yours, grabbing at nothing but cold sheets in a desperate attempt to will you back beside him. Y/N, I’m sorry. Diluc would wail in his slumber. Please come back to me. Oftentimes, Diluc was silent. He would enter Dawn Winery after a night of work and stress, on times when he would go out, only to find his home empty- the absence of your cheerful greetings made the silence all the more mocking. Diluc would work in silence; drowning out all the noise to try and remember when was the last time he had asked about your day, trying to recall when was the last time you two slept on the same bed. Those were the times when Diluc had nothing to think about, his mind drained of things he used to be so caught up on. But sometimes in those silent hours would the memories of you come back- loud and devastating that Diluc had seriously considered drinking to be rid of the pain and heartache. He couldn’t bear to think of you during those moments- it seemed to only make things worse.

Some days it felt better for Diluc; he would go out to work and even be on patrol late at night to make up for those days he couldn’t. But the thought of you still ran rampant in his mind. He couldn’t withstand the memory of you leaving without notice and wanted nothing more than to apologize, make up for his wrongs and maybe be given a second chance. But he knew how this goes- life is cruel to him and wouldn’t favor him any retry’s. That would be in your hands alone and he has already messed it up so greatly. Today however felt like a good day for Diluc when he decided that he would be the one to shop for groceries. Putting his coat on, Diluc was ready to head off until a familiar sight came at him when he opened the front door. It was like a breath of fresh air and an angry storm all the same. It’s you, Y/N.

Standing at the door frame with all your belongings in hand, you two stared at each other, wide-eyed and unsure of what to say. Diluc felt as though his knees might buckle with how much he didn’t know he was shaking. His lips parted and pathetic sounds came out of his mouth in an attempt to make words. So many things he wanted to say: ‘Am I dreaming?’, ‘I missed you, Y/N.’, ‘You came back.’, ‘I love you.’, ‘Please don’t leave me again.’, ‘Please stay, Y/N.’, ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.’ Instead, Diluc straightened himself out and said;

“You’re here.” Almost breathless, croaking out those pathetic sounds, holding back the tears that threatened to humiliate him. You could only exhale and see how much damage you actually did. Diluc’s hair was disheveled in a poor attempt to tie it up in a ponytail, his eyes were bloodshot and dark from those nights he couldn’t sleep, his skin got paler from the many days he would spend locked up in his room alone.

“I’m here.” you repeated, gentle and apologetic. Sparing not even a second, Diluc lunged at you and enveloped you in a tight hug. His strong arms wrapped around your frame- left hand on your side while the right on the back of your head. You’re so close to him now, so real, he’s not dreaming. He didn’t want to let you go. Before you could think, Diluc was already sobbing out apologies, sputtering against your neck that you could feel his tears seep through your shirt.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Diluc cried. “Please don’t leave me.” He was inhaling sharply, he felt as though he couldn’t breathe- his chest felt like it was on the verge of caving in with how much he was crying, and the ache it felt the moment he saw you and held you. You could do nothing but console him awkwardly with Mocco and Hillie watching in the corner with the most scandalized expressions on their faces. Looks like some new gossip would circle around the tavern later.

No words needed to be said during this moment as you two fell into a heap on the floor- Diluc still clinging onto you, his now breathy sobs trickling down your shoulder and you doing your best to comfort him. You had your fair share of words to say to him- you wanted to apologize for leaving so suddenly, how childish you had been for doing so, how you or other few people would be able to convince Diluc to have a sit down and work things out maturely. But you had time for that later- right now, Diluc is in your arms and you and his. You two had a lot to work on but at this moment, you just needed to be with him.

“We’ll be okay.” You whispered, and it was enough to soothe Diluc’s fears. Enough to have his tense shoulders relax as he drew out a long, shaken breath. You felt him smile against your skin now damp with his tears. For the first time, Diluc had been given a second chance. Maybe life wasn’t so unfair to him after all.

Kaeya

Kaeya has been drinking more than usual since he left you. He knows why he left so abruptly- he felt as though he was getting too close, and one thing he feared more than the inevitable were relationships that require you to become committed. The mistakes of the past may come seeping back in again when he had built such a familial bond with Crepus and Diluc only for it to be torn away from him so fast and so painfully. Now, he noticed how close he was getting with you and he decided to end it first before you could- before he could be trapped into another bond he can’t risk having.

Kaeya would watch you from afar sometimes; he watches as you divert your usual path to the market to avoid him, how you would close your bakery early to stop seeing him on his daily visits to the Tavern. It seemed to you, however, that bumping into Kaeya was unavoidable. When you’re struggling with carrying a bag of flour, Kaeya just happens to be standing there as he wordlessly helps you. When something you need from the market is sold out, Kaeya’s in the corner ordering his knights to bring in a new shipment. You’re not allowed to bar customers from buying at your bakery for no reason, and you thought that Kaeya would stop buying from you once you two broke up. But his orders kept coming and you had to see him constantly while delivering your loaves to the Knights of Favonius Headquarters, much to your annoyance. You wonder sometimes if he was doing this on purpose. You felt deja vu with this game of his so you avoided him to the best of your ability. Kaeya did do it on purpose. He wanted some semblance of closeness to you without actually being close to you. He knows he can’t keep chasing you this way.

But how could have ever been so stupid? You’ve been nothing but kind and patient with him- you put up with his alcoholism and soothe him through his hangovers then there he goes again to repeat the same habits and dismiss your worried scolding. You never questioned his methods of executing his work- those moments he would flirt with others under the guise of ‘getting information’ to see how you would react- and you would be there to smile at him and mouth ‘good job’. When you did question him about it, your fear being reasonable, he would turn the tables by saying you’re paranoid. You gave him genuine love out of the few people who had given him the same. He wanted to push you away so badly, and when you finally left, why did it torment him so much? You are always so kind to him, what scum was he to break your heart?

“Sorry, sorry…” Kaeya mumbled as he bumped into a few tables at Angel’s Share. He’s been drinking again, not a rare sight to see, but now he’s causing trouble by aimlessly walking around the Tavern and his tab is almost as long as a mile. Unbeknownst to him, Charles had called you to come pick him up as the other knights were already drunk, and his companion Rosaria was already asleep by the bar. Kaeya could only look up in his drunken stupor to see you, standing in front of him, arms open to greet him in. Maybe he’d forgotten that he had left you as Kaeya could only slur your name happily and fall into your arms under the impression that he was coming home to you like he used to. Until now, you’re still so kind to him.

“Y/N~” He mumbled, hiding at the crook of your neck, his breath reeking of alcohol. “I missed you, Y/N.” You couldn't help but flinch as you steady Kaeya to his feet.

“Let’s get you home big guy.” You say, straining to keep Kaeya walking on his feet as he thrashes around you. When you finally get back however, it was at your place, and Kaeya was more than elated to see it. He spreads himself out on your couch like he used to and watches as you leave to get him water from the kitchen. When you return, you’re shocked to see Kaeya crying into his hands. You approach him tentatively and set the water down.

“I’ve been so unkind to you, Y/N.” Kaeya says when he looks up to see you sitting next to him on the couch. You almost wanted to shove him out of your house as the next words that came out his mouth rushed at you like a pack of wolves. “I really did love you, Y/N. I still do.” You purse your lips as Kaeya forces you to listen to his drunken confession.

“I should have treated you better. You’re wonderful, did I tell you that?” You shake your head no and he laughs. “You are, you really are.” By now, Kaeya’s eyes are fluttering shut. Even in this condition, he’s still so beautiful.

“Nobody can love me like you can, Y/N.” he says, leaning his head on your shoulder. “Please forgive me.” Your hands smooth down Kaeya’s back but you don’t say anything. He keeps talking.

“I don’t know why I pushed you away, I was afraid of you… getting to know me I guess.”

“What’s there to be afraid of?” You say finally, your voice comforting Kaeya in a way he missed so dearly. “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do in a relationship?” Kaeya chuckles and slides down, his head falling onto your lap as he looks up at you. Your eyes are glazed over and tears fall down your cheeks. You couldn’t lie to yourself anymore; you missed him, no matter how much he hurt you- you missed him. Kaeya reached up to wipe the tears off of your face, your skin warm to the touch under his cold fingers. You melted into his palms.

“Please, let’s start over, Y/N.” He whispers, promptly falling asleep. You sniffle and lean your head back against the couch.

“Sure, big guy, sure.” You say, but he doesn’t hear your answer. Kaeya’s already passed out on your couch, his head on your lap, a small smile creeping up his face. Maybe he’ll regret pouring his heart out to you when morning comes, denying it ever happened and mask it with his false bravado. But nothing mattered to him right now, he’s told his truth, and he’s close to you. Nothing can worry him when he’s in your company.

Zhongli

Eons have passed since Zhongli committed his greatest regret of slaying his beloved. Years after his triumph in the Archon War, his ascension to be the Geo Archon, the events of Khaenri’ah, and his current stepping down as an overseer for Liyue. All this time has passed since Zhongli has reigned timeless where all his companions have not; from erosion to war to mere degeneration. Worst of all was you who had died by his hands when you should be by his side until now. Though he was content with his new life posing as a mortal, Zhongli still yearns for the past when he spent the happy days without a care in the world. On times when he feels especially lonely does Zhongli’s longing for you only overwhelm him- and he allows himself to grieve you in a way he should have many years ago- feeling the true weight that came with the aftermath of your death. Thousands of years have passed and still, Zhongli can’t seem to forgive himself. How could he? You are gone, the one who has stayed by his side for eons, worst of all because of his petty fear and need to be triumphant.

Today, Zhongli was feeling especially nostalgic. He had diverted his usual schedule of walking around Liyue Harbor then ending the day at the tea house when he found himself leaving the city and into the outskirts of Liyue. As he walked, Zhongli reminisced about his past with you. Your memories now are so daunting and clear in his mind, hitting him so suddenly as if you had called up to see him personally. In everything he saw, he was reminded of you; how you’d always brighten up his mood with your beautiful smile the same way the wildflowers around him did, how you had Osmanthus Wine with him along with the Guili Assembly as Zhongli watched a group of finches fly by, how you had always stayed by his side no matter what good or bad he’s done as a pair of butterflies flittered past him. How fond were those memories then. If only you would be here to remember them with him now.

Zhongli stops in his walk to a path now faded from the land. He scans around the area and stumbles upon something that looks as though it’s out of place in this lonely area. Here beyond the great vastness of his land, the one that used to be yours, was a single flower not yet in bloom. Zhongli stared down at the specimen, he hadn't seen anything like it before. He knelt down to examine the bud further and only then did Zhongli hear a disembodied voice echo throughout the plains- so familiar, so soothing.

“I haven’t seen you in a while, Morax.” You said, your voice manifesting itself to surround Zhongli like an embrace. Even after all these years, he could see your smile. Even after what he did to you, you’re so kind to him still. Zhongli laughs and sits down on the grass, fingers digging into the earth beneath him.

“I go by Zhongli now, Y/N.” He says, looking up into the clear blue sky, trying to picture your face still clear in his mind. He smiles.

“Time has been unkind to you, my love.” You say. Until now, you still carry the love for him to call him yours. “How has your life been so far?” He recounts the years of the events that you’ve missed up until his descent from the sky. How much he’s agonized over these years without you by his side. How you had been his anchor throughout the rage that ran rampant during the Archon war. After that he grows silent when you don’t answer. Only a gentle breeze passed by and Zhongli could feel tears well up in his eyes.

“I miss you terribly, Y/N.” He whispers. Only then did you speak once more.

“I am always with you, Zhongli, in these lands, that single flower has roots embedded deep into the earth. And you, my dear, are the earth that supports us all.” You say. “After all, you have been the one to teach me that the land can carry memories for centuries.” Zhongli couldn’t help but laugh.

“Pray tell, when does your flower bloom my dear?” He asked.

“When time comes, my darling, it will.”

“Then I will wait for the day I hope to see it bloom.” For a while, you two talked and for a while, Zhongli felt the peace that he feared may never come to him again. Even if you weren’t there, Zhongli could feel your presence, your ability to give him the solace he had craved so desperately since the day you departed from this world. The thought suddenly appears in his mind and he abruptly stops. He needed to apologize to you, to ease the gnawing guilt that ate away at him for centuries.

“Y/N, words cannot express how much I regret what I did to you those centuries ago.” He says. Zhongli didn’t cry but a sharp pang of pain rose into his chest. “If I didn’t… you would still be here.”

“Oh, Zhongli,” You said. “I’ve already forgiven you.” With that, the flower by Zhongli’s feet bloomed into a wonderful specimen, followed by more that spread throughout the once empty grasslands of your domain. Their petals bursting with a variety of colors as their tips faded into a warm shade of yellow, a sweet fragrance wafted into the air and winds billowed to have them flow like waves along with the tall grass. The sunset shone onto the delicate petals as they glimmered like a million stars from where Zhongli sits, flying into the air to shower him in a dance of a million suns. “Should the day ever come, you will continue to shine like gold in my memories. I love you, Morax.” (Quote taken from Zhongli’s Voiceline)

Zhongli wasn’t the type to cry; today however, he felt more vulnerable. As your voice was carried away by the winds, Zhongli couldn't help but smile widely through his tears, watching the glimmering petals fall down onto him like blazing snowfall.

“You’re still as wonderful as I remember Y/N.” Now, you’ve overtaken every part of Zhongli’s being, his senses and existence. Like a hug that bid Welcome Back, have you finally returned home to him. He can’t wait for the day he can finally come back to you.

Xiao

Years had passed since the petty argument you two had, your ‘disappearance’ and Xiao’s laborious but fruitless attempts in trying to find you. When he finally did, it was more than obvious that you had already moved on. You’ve lived your mortal life and found a new person to be with, someone who has dedicated their life to you in a way Xiao couldn’t. You’d even started a family. You looked as though you were more than happy with the life you’re living without him. This would’ve made Xiao content to know that you’re safe, but why couldn’t he let you go? Why does he still watch over you in the hopes that you’d call his name? He gives a lot of reasons as to why he stays: monsters could attack unexpectedly; your child might trip and fall from a high place… you might need help to gather Qingxin flowers like you used to. Every excuse came to Xiao’s mind each time he watched you live your life from a distance. It felt more like a comfort to him, reasoning within himself on why he can never leave. What he doesn’t want to admit is that he still cares for you in a way that isn’t protective nor dutiful. Xiao has felt the emptiness of the abrupt stop of your relationship, and he feels responsible for being the one to drive you away. He wanted to apologize to you.

Xiao believed that he was giving himself an empty hope that he could be of service to you once more. Maybe he was only wasting his time doing this and that he should leave you alone for good. He wonders though, what would it be like if he met you once more. Would he be the one to approach you? Would you stumble upon him accidentally one day? Would you laugh? Would you cry? Would you be angry with him? Xiao didn't know, and still, he held on. Any interaction with you would suffice. One day, there was little to no wind, but a small breeze passed and grazed his ears. He stopped and looked around to clarify what he had heard. Xiao’s ears could never fool him- his senses were trained to be perfect.

Xiao.

You had called his name. In the blink of an eye, he was there in front of you, after all these years of watching from afar, years since that argument, years since you had last called his name, you were facing him and he with you. Xiao didn’t know what to say to you; so many words got caught in his throat at the suddenness of your call. He didn’t even know why he responded so quickly, maybe he’d been mistaken and was only giving himself false hope that you actually needed him. But you only smiled at him, a look he had almost forgotten.

“Hello again, Xiao.” You said. His name almost felt foreign on your tongue, but you were comforted to know that even after all these years he still cared for you.

“Y/N.” Xiao finally said, stiff and formal, that he wondered if this was the same familiarity he’d felt the moment he saw you this close. You’re older now; time undone on your features, but you still carried the same kind disposition you had those years you were his. You sat down and motioned him to sit with you. Obediently, he did. Xiao felt awkward in your presence- it was silent, and you didn’t say a word. He couldn’t. If he did, he might choke.

“We’re long overdue for an apology, don’t you think?” You said, your head turned towards the sky. Xiao held onto his pant legs tightly and some odd guttural sound came from his throat.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Xiao said stiffly, biting at his lip to force himself to say more.

“I shouldn’t have snapped at you that day.”

“Xiao…” you said with a sigh.

“I was being crass with you when you were only being kind to me.”

“Xiao.”

“Please accept my apology.”

“Xiao!” Xiao turned to look at you and your attention was at him.

“Doesn’t this feel familiar?” You said. “I meant I’m the one that should apologize to you. I shouldn’t have left that way.” Xiao scoffs.

“You had good reason to.” He says standing up. “I treated you poorly.” You shook your head and stood with him.

“We should’ve talked about it, I’m so sorry.” You said. “I felt as if I was only holding you down. That’s why I left, when I really shouldn’t.” Xiao stops for a moment and looks away to see your family from down below. Your lover playing in the fields with two of your children.

“Tell me, Y/N, are you happy with the life you have?” He asked. You looked down to where his gaze was set and nodded. Xiao crosses his arms and closes his eyes. “Then I forgive you. You’ve lived your mortal life and it eases my mind to know that you… and your family are safe.” Before he could leave, you took hold of his hand. Xiao almost wanted to pull away, but something familiar in his chest kept him from retracting. How he missed this.

“If you ever want some almond tofu,” you say. “I always have some available for you.” His gaze softened at how familiar this exchange had been. With that, Xiao nodded, and you were first to let go, watching as he dispersed into black smoke.

“And if you ever need me, call my name.” Since then, Xiao has become a common face to see for you and your family. He had been acquainted with your lover and you tell your children countless stories about the Guardian Yaksha as Xiao would leave before he could hear you embarrass him. It gave you a comfort to know that he did not hold any malice against you. And Xiao was rewarded once more by your time spent with him until the end of your mortal life. You had been blessed with longevity and Xiao was there by your side to see you off until the end. He had a peace of mind that even in your final days, you still seeked him to accompany you. Xiao can only hope now that in your next life, your soul may find a way to meet him once more.

Childe

Ever since your death, many noticed that Childe’s work had become “sloppy”. His assignments turned in late, the success of his completion dropped, and his overall capabilities seemed to stagnate. Everything came crashing down in his life the moment he found you lying dead on your bedroom floor. One would think that witnessing your death in the hands of those that worked for him would push him to fight better. However, Childe couldn’t think of anything else but revenge and nobody was merciful enough to give him the information that he needed. So, his anger was directed at something else: his fruitless attempts of tracking down your killers and his performance diminished to an extent that he needed rest. With that, Childe decided to take some time off from fighting and working. It was his absence that had taken away your life after all. Besides, working in his state of mind hindered his abilities to properly execute assignments and others that the Tsaritsa took notice of. She understood his plight and gave Childe time to grieve properly at his own pace. She couldn’t possibly have one of her best soldiers out there unable to fulfill her wishes. Then, he was set off in a time that would’ve been the perfect opportunity to spend with you. So many things you two could have done together. After that, hurtful words came at him once the other Fatui found out he was going to take a break to mourn you. ‘The 11th has gotten weak.’, ‘Such a pity that Tartaglia’s become soft.’, ‘Serves the lunatic right.’ Childe wanted nothing more than to slaughter them all, make them apologize, make them hurt and agonize the same way he is. But he could only hang his head low and think of you; his job of slaughter was the one that killed you when his enemies finally found his weakness despite his attempts to hide you away. They only showed you the same mercy he did. Looks like they were successful.

Childe had been the one to pay for all your funeral arrangements. It had a small gathering of your few close friends and family as well as his own. As much as he wanted it to be big, to match up to such a wonderful person such as you and let the world know of his dearly beloved, he couldn’t risk any more attention that could lead to trouble. Childe could only listen to silent apologies and condolences, feeling animosity with each one thrown at him as they felt almost insulting. Don’t say sorry to me, I did this. It was my fault. Childe could only watch in scorn as your friends wept over your casket in a way he couldn’t bring himself to. He feels undeserving to cry over you and yet, he feels as though everyone else’s grief towards you cannot compare to his own. Stop crying for them like that. You didn’t know them like I did. You didn’t love them like I do. Hollow conversations would fill the little room sometimes, others talking to him about how wonderful you were and healthy ways he should cope with loss. Only then would Childe excuse himself and hold in his anger until it would cease. I need you, Y/N. I don’t think I can do this without you. Sometimes however, Childe could feel sneers coming his way- talks about how he could have saved you, how it may have been his fault you died in such a tragic manner. He can’t think of anything else but you; he could’ve stayed, he could’ve stayed with you that night. How careless of him to leave you alone.

You were buried in your hometown; a peaceful cemetery in a quiet stretch of land where others would have picnics with their departed loved ones. Childe wonders sometimes that if this was his punishment for being selfish, to repent for the countless lives he took. That life had taken you away so unexpectedly to teach him the importance of time spent and to have him feel the karma of the agony he had wrought unto others. In these instances, Childe can’t feel anything. His body goes numb with his mind as he stands over your grave, watching it unmoving, expecting you to wrap your arms around him from behind and tell him it’s okay. But you’re gone; once the reality of the fact sets in, Childe would only turn and walk away to return the next day.

Childe would spend his days on your grave- telling you about his day, having picnics as the others did, sometimes weeping to the point he would crumple above the soil that kept you away from him. He’d spend hours upon end there, to make up for the lost time he can never spend with you. Every day without fail, Childe would apologize incessantly for being gone, his faults and his wrongs, especially his time away that night you’d been so brutally taken away from him. Childe thought he was being discreet every time he paid you a visit. Today however, he was followed. In the middle of him setting down a bouquet of flowers on your headstone, Childe heard heavy footsteps coming from behind him.

“Can you at least have the decency to let me be in this place?” He asked as some Fatui went and circled him. Childe knew better and decided to walk away from the cemetery to let the others follow him.

“You’ve become weak, Tartaglia.” One of them said, pointing his weapon at him. “It was because of that little love of yours, wasn’t it?” Childe balled his fists and stared at them threateningly.

“Don’t you dare speak of them that way.” He said lowly. The skirmisher couldn’t help but smile under his mask, not fearing the 11th Harbinger the way he used to.

“You should’ve heard them, boasting about how you’re going to save them. We shut them up real quick after that.” Childe snapped. In a fit of blind fury, he summoned his delusion and cut down the group before they were even aware of what’s happening to them. After the bloodshed, Child fell to his knees and screamed into the ground, angry tears falling from his face. He’s finally gotten revenge on those who had killed you, but why is the pain not leaving? Why does he feel as though his heart has been gouged out of him? Why is the pain so devastatingly worse than before?

Childe knows that he can never get closure after what happened, but he knows that he can recover. He can rest easy to know that he served your justice in his own volition. It may take years, but you’d want him to live, won’t you? He’ll live and fight in your name. At least he knows now, in some sick way, that even in your most terrifying moment, you still had faith to ask for him to save you.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

okay, I want to hear about your thoughts on Renesmee wanting to eat Edward?? What's up with that. Also would love to hear about your opinion on this child in general. All the people in her life are hardcore projecting on her, what's the alien child's perspective on all this shit. Thanks for all the twilight meta its wild.

Thank you, glad you enjoy my rambling, strange, thoughts.

What’s Up With Renesmee Devouring Her Enemies?

So, this one’s actually a bit of headcanon on my end, not really supported by anything directly. We’re going way into left field with this.

But I do have this. Renesmee is a highly efficient predator, perhaps in a way more so than the vampire (although she is weaker and slower than vampires) and Renesmee is... not human, for whatever that means.

Everything we see of Renesmee’s early biological development, and what we see happening in Nahuel and his sisters, makes a lot of sense from a biological standpoint.

The mother is turned essentially into a hybrid incubator, such that even if she wanted to abort she likely would not be able to or would not survive it. The child grows at a rapid rate in the room and has to eat itself out, at which point it has a starter meal of the human mother. The child then grows absurdly rapidly to the point where, mentally and physically, it can survive on its own. Growth then slows and then stops when sexual maturity is reached, presumably for reproductive purposes.

Vampires cannot do a few things. They are a half-sterile race, only able to reproduce through humans and the previously male half of the human species. They also need external help to kill a fellow vampire. In other words, they have to light a fire.

Until you burn the pieces, the enemy vampire isn’t dead. Now, using fire as a tool is to date something only the human species has figured out. It is not intuitive and an odd coincidence that vampires had this prerequisite knowledge (I have thoughts on what vampirism even is and where it comes from). 

I imagine, just as Renesmee presumably has reproductive capabilities that vampires lack, she also a has a toolset that vampires lack: the ability to kill a vampire without the need for fire. 

Given that Renesmee’s able to eat human food, this implies she has a digestive that is able to break down nutrients. The reason vampires can’t eat other vampires is they lack this. Edward swallows pizza, he’s vomiting that shit back up three hours later and it’s going to be very solid and very gross. Whatever venom did to his innards, most of his vital human organs aren’t working anymore.

Given that Renesmee’s this mix of venom and who knows what kinds of fluids I believe her stomach is capable of breaking down and digesting vampire flesh. This seems to me the most obvious way to eliminate an enemy vampire when no tools are otherwise available.

Hence, instinctively, if Renesmee wants to murder Edward she will eat him.

(Also, as you can tell, the image is just horrifyingly delightful to me, and so it’s my go to response.)

As for why she would want to eat him, see here and here.

The Family and Renesmee

As you note, everyone in Renesmee’s life projects someone else onto her.

Not so much Carlisle, he just seems very bewildered and overwhelmed by everything at first, and one of the few who openly notes how not human Renesmee is and the implications of this (given the chromosome experiment, I’m sure Carlisle was expecting a squid).

Even in the early stages though we see Edward, Bella, Alice, and Rosalie as primary offenders. (I’d list Esme except Esme is... being Esme about it, so, she’s just floating through Renesmee’s life like her Cullen ghost self and not even at the point where she can project anything onto her. Besides, that’s what Edward’s for.)

Edward sees the best of both himself and Bella in Renesmee, a little intellectual who reads War and Peace at a few weeks old when she has no understanding of the concepts of War, Napoleon, Russia, or Peace. As Edward always does, he so obliviously projects onto her, that I imagine it doesn’t matter what Renesmee says or does around him and she quickly figures that out.

Bella’s left the planet. Renesmee’s this beautiful thing, that looks like Edward, that is her daughter. Bella has no idea what parenting is. She’s floating through life preparing herself to become Esme 2.0. It’s not so much that she projects onto Renesmee but that she... completely fails to connect her to reality. Renesmee is a concept to Bella. Renesmee might figure this out, but given her feelings for her mother, I imagine she’s far more conflicted about it. She probably wishes things could be different between them, and often tries to find ways to make it so, it just never works.

Alice treats Renesmee much as she treated Bella, as her little doll that she can dress in cute clothing. Beyond that, Renesmee is a nuisance who messes with Alice’s gift. Oh, Alice likes her well enough, but I don’t see them having an actual meaningful conversation or connection.

Rosalie’s probably the wort offender in the projection domain. She is absolutely projecting the ideal human child she never had onto Renesmee. When Renesmee inevitibly fails to live up to these perfect standards, which even a human child wouldn’t, I imagine Rosalie will get increasingly upset. Acknowledging Renesmee isn’t what she wanted either would probably break Rosalie, so she’s not going to do that, and instead try to get Renesmee to behave correctly. For however much she cares about Renesmee, I imagine Renesmee sours on her growing up, as she knows she will never be what Rosalie wishes she was. Grateful that Rosalie helped keep her alive, of course, but... she would also probably wonder, as fandom does, just how much Rosalie was hoping Bella would die in birth (for the record, I think this might have been an idle fantasy of Rosalie’s, but I don’t think she’d go this far.)

Then of course, there’s Jake. Woof, Jake. As I linked above, I think Renesmee will slowly become more and more disenchanted with Jake. She’ll either learn about or suspect her own gift, have no interest in having a romantic relationship with him, or learn about his checkered past with her mother. More Jake is...

Imprinting, at a very large distance, sounds nice but imagine what that means. You have this person who is utterly dependent on you, who will do whatever you want and be whatever you wish them to be. In other words, you have this codependent person you can never get rid of who is never authentic. They will never say no to you, will always do what you wish, and if you dare to tell them you want a little time to yourself they will probably combust into flames.

That’s not a good relationship for anyone: imprinter or imprintee.

Jake, in a sense, ceases to be a real person when it comes to Renesmee. Renesmee will figure that out and then... why should she live her life just to make this miserable man who once tried to murder her happy?

What Does This Do to Renesmee?

I imagine Renesmee grows up feeling very isolated.

She doesn’t really belong in the Cullens, for all that they’re the best fit she has. She certainly doesn’t belong with other imprintees in the tribe (and whatever occasional function she goes to with the Quileutes is probably a complete disaster), and she’s not human either.

I imagine her strongest relationships are Charlie Swan (who beyond the surrealness of his life I imagine takes Renesmee at very face value), Carlisle Cullen (who also seems to not project onto Renesmee and takes her at face value), and Bella (who she desperately wants a stronger relationship with but Bella’s not listening).

Well, Charlie at some point will die. He will not choose immortality. I imagine Renesmee never quite understands why he was allowed to choose death or what the purpose of the human species even is. To her, they are caterpillars who never went into the chrysalis. Given to Renesmee the Cullen diet is the norm, to her it would seem obvious that, yes, everyone in the world can turn into a vampire and if they ration animal resources correctly there’s no problem. Or, if not everyone, then certainly her grandfather need not die.

I’m sure Charlie tries to talk to Renesmee about this but given that he’s one of her few strong relationships in this world the talk of “I’m going to die some day, sorry kiddo” doesn’t go well.

So, I’m sure it takes Renesmee a very long time to recover from that blow, if, in fact, she ever really does. I’m sure a part of her will always grieve Charlie.

In time, I think she’ll leave the coven to go on a journey of self discovery. The coven will just be too damn suffocating and she needs to find out who she truly is. Now, if that’s before or after the inevitable collapse of the Volturi and destruction of human society is hard to say.

I will say that whatever the future holds for Renesmee, just like everyone else’s, it is unbearably bleak.