Tumgik
#matter of fact that entire last row was a struggle
yeraskier · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
i had to, for reasons
528 notes · View notes
Text
TEN YEARS
Tumblr media
A/N: Since it's looking like we won't be getting a livestream of the Leeds show tonight, and since I have a crazy few days coming up starting tomorrow, I wanted to post a little something to keep y'all happy while I get my schedule together and to also celebrate ST and last night! short, sweet, no plot, just vibes.
Warnings: none, except maybe typos (i have no clue where my glasses are)
----
She could hear her heartbeat in her ears despite the chattering crowds all around her. "Excuse me- could I just" mumbling apologies as she squeezed past the masses of giddy, sweaty, emotional, and excited fans. She could blame the ones who were struggling to keep from crying, or the ones who were immediately recounting the events they'd just witnessed onstage for fear of their memories eroding as the night came to a close, or maybe to make sure that what they'd experienced was actually real, that other people saw it too. In fact, she felt the same way and would've wanted to stick around and take it all in, if it weren't for her insatiable desire to lay her hands on Matty as soon as humanly possible.
She felt the butterflies flutter in her stomach, her anticipation and impatience spurred on by the glimpses and fragments of conversation that reached her ears from people around her.
"He looked so good in that leather jacket-" someone behind her had observed.
"I'm glad he took it off though. Cuz, arms? hello!"
somewhere from the center of the crowd, an overstimulated, antsy woman yelled out,
"but can we talk about Ross's hair?! I love him."
"I mean, I knew they weren't going to play antichrist, cuz Matty is evil, but at least give us fallingforyou?"
"bro, no matter what he does, you're never happy. he can't win at this point."
"ten years! it's been ten years! 2014 me, scrolling black and white tumblr would lose her shit if he could see this."
the smile that had plastered across her face grew wider with every comment she overheard. Though the walk to the backstage area wasn't long earlier in the day, when she'd wandered around, watching the backline tech and the crew set things up, right now, it felt miles away. Finally, too impatient to do things responsibly, she jumped the safety barrier and landed on the other side. giggling to herself as she sprinted to find the boys.
Her airy giggles broke into a fit of laughter when she spotted the four of them, dress in all black, huddled into a corner, whispering and laughing like children. Matty turned around at the clomping of her footsteps, a grin on his face.
"Babe-" was all he'd managed to say before she'd jumped into his arms with the full force of her body, laughing uncontrollably into his ear as she panted, breathless.
Matty's arms wrapped around her waist, picking her up, off the floor, and spinning around in circles, giggling until they were both dizzy.
"You- you did it!" was the first thing she could think to say, still out of breath and heaving, she pressed her lips to his, clumsily crashing into him. Her feet unsteady, and her head still dizzy, she chuckled when their teeth collided.
Remnants of Matty's aftershave still clung to his shirt. She could taste the cigarettes he'd smoked onstage and the drink he'd sipped on. She buried her face into him for a moment, leaning her body against his as she came down from the adrenalin high, then, with her feet firmly on the ground, she turned to face the boys.
"Congratulations! how're we feeling?"
chatter broke out again as they interrupted each other, answering her questions, describing the view from the stage, George boasting that his drum riser was the best spot up there, and Matty, restless as ever, re-enacting his moves.
"Ross, I, um, have some news." she looked up into his eyes, a gentle hand pressed on top of his. "Two people were injured, five lost consciousness. Your hair killed the entire front row." Ross's initial concern gave way to an innocent laugh, his head tilted upwards, his pearlescent smile drawing a dimple on his cheek.
"He knows, he knows." Adam patted Ross's back prompting Matty to reach over and pull the hair tie out of ross's hair. "glorious lions mane. He does it for the ladies."
***
She couldn't help but smile against the soft fabric of Matty's hoodie, clinging to him harder and letting her body sway along with his as he danced to the Killer's song from the side of the stage.
"Sorry, I'll calm down." Matty whispered down to her.
"No, no! Please don't. I love it when you like the music."
Hw wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her body against his and moving them both to the rhythm of the music.
"Matty? You happy?" she looked up at his eyes and saw his answer before he even spoke.
"So happy."
"Good. I mean, you looked like you were having fun up there."
"'course I was. I mean, we used to come here as kids-"
George laid a hand on his shoulder squeezing it lightly, "oh, here it comes." playfully rolling his eyes.
"same old story." Ross mumbled.
"oh about how he came to Reading instead of picking up exam results?" Adam giggled.
Matty laughed, telling them to fuck off, before looking back down at her. "Yeah, I'm happy."
"And you get to do it all again tomorrow." she planted a kiss on his cheek.
"I know. How lucky am I?"
184 notes · View notes
leqclerc · 1 month
Note
The entire picture around sainz amazes me. Like how you're going to rate him so high, how you're going to compare him against charles when he has one good race every 8 f1 weekends, how you going to call him better than Hamilton, how you going to say he's the best driver on the grid after max and then turn around and ask "is carlos sainz underrated"
Exactly. It's so funny imo for the media to be like "is CS underrated?" and make his ex/current teammate answer that question (which, like, wtf else are they going to say, they're hardly going to start beef in a press conference with him sitting right there lmao.) If anything he's overrated. As you said, he can be completely anonymous for multiple races in a row but one good weekend and he's suddenly better than Charles and basically on par with Max and should get the Red Bull seat. Not to mention Ferrari must be regretting "getting rid of the wrong driver." Okay? 🤨
Even at his lowest I think he gets a lot of grace. Outside the pool of British drivers he's basically the British pundit/journos golden child; the likes of Lawrence Barretto and Damon Hill consistently prop him up and add to this narrative of him being the "worthier" Ferrari driver, the faster one, the one with more prowess and exemplary leadership skills. Also the "consummate professional and dedicated team player." Yeah, until he starts binning planned strategies or impeding his teammate. 😑
The disappointing thing is, this is and will likely continue to be the mainstream narrative as long as these weekends happen. It's something I've noticed among "casuals" as well — unless you are deeply invested in the Ferrari ecosystem and constantly and closely following the developments, the interviews, the drivers' team radios, etc, the perception is basically: Even when Charles qualifies on pole he loses out to Max, sometimes even in the early laps of the race, and then can't manage to regain the lead, ergo he is ineffective; Carlos, meanwhile, "gets the job done" and, well, wins, ergo he is effective, Ferrari's sole hero, etc.
Obviously there's lots of factors that influence a race weekend or result. Hell, things might have looked different if Ferrari hadn't implemented team orders pretty much as soon as Max was out of the picture. We know this. But a lot of people don't, either through plain ignorance, or because they willingly dismiss the context in favour of the face value results, and the face value results say Carlos is the only non-RB race winner in the past year. And unfortunately the only way for this narrative to change is for Charles to, well, win. (I know we're only three races in and by all accounts Ferrari seem better equipped to challenge Red Bull this year than last year, so he may get a few opportunities to do so, but yeah. Carlos has been undoubtedly very lucky to always be in the right place at the right time to take advantage of the rare Red Bull mishap, and Charles needs to make sure he's putting himself in that position too, especially if the car is struggling in dirty air. Figures that the one time he broke his front row streak Max would have reliability issues 😭)
Also imo the hype is magnified by the fact that he's the someone other than Max that people desperately want to see winning. So much so that the "how" doesn't even matter anymore. The race was objectively boring but a lot of people are hyping it up and artificially bumping up the enjoyment meter just because the end result was a non-Max win. So he's got that on his side as well. But for me, I think how the race is won matters as well. Both times he took advantage of Max/Red Bull having a rare off day. Which, fine, this sport is about luck and capitalizing on these opportunities when they present themselves, I get that. But the real breakthrough will come when Ferrari is able to keep up with and beat Red Bull in the race on merit, not because they just got lucky. The closest we got to that so far is Vegas. If they can do that this year then we can start saying that Red Bull's got serious competition. Making thinkpieces out of hypotheticals because Max had a debilitating, race-ending issue with his car is not it.
15 notes · View notes
yandere-daze · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
Sorry for the repost again but Tumblr is having some issues apparently and my last past didn´t get into the tags again. I hope it works this time :/
Well, it seems like the two requests in a row didn´t end up mattering too much because I got to this so much later but I really didn´t mind it in the first place, in case you were worried about that sjfsbfl
I´m prefacing this by saying that I don´t know Nagisa too well so he might be a bit OOC, I really need to read some more stories featuring Eden. Does anyone have any recommendations?
gn reader
tw mentions of overworking
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Nagisa taking care of an overworking s/o
Tumblr media
I feel like Nagisa is the kind of person that would want to talk this kind of thing out. He cares for you and the fact that you´re overworking yourself so frequently makes him very worried
Now Nagisa could be described as a quieter person and he´s not that confident in choosing the right words, so he takes some time to ponder over how he should address this while still remaining tactful. It´s still something he struggles with quite a bit and because he´s very serious about you and your health, he wants to make sure he says the right things
When Nagisa finally mentions the fact that you´ve been getting home later or that he´s seen you working until late into the night, you can clearly see that he´s worried
He wants to know if there is a particular reason for this. Is it just a very busy season at the moment and so you have to stay around longer? Is there something important that needs to be done right now? Whatever it is, he wants to know the reason
Nagisa tries to tell you in the best way he can, that even if your work is important and even though he admires how hard-working you are, there are still limits to what one person is capable of doing. He doesn´t want you to get sick just because you didn´t get enough rest
Nothing in this world could be more important than your health and he wants you to know that
As a means to distract you, Nagisa would invite you on a date to make sure you´re getting some well-deserved time-off. He personally prefers quiet activities like going to a local library or visiting a museum together and he thinks the calm atmosphere there might be a good contrast to the hectic lifestyle you´ve had up til now
Don´t let Ibara know, but Nagisa is absolutely going to use his money to buy any small thing you may have mentioned wanting on the way back to your home
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Niki taking care of an overworking s/o
Tumblr media
Niki may at first not notice how much you´ve been working recently. He knows that you take your job seriously and he finds that admirable! He´s also very passionate about his own job as a chef so he understands wanting to give it your all
He starts to grow concerned when he notices that you spend less and less time relaxing at home or going out with him or your friends. He´s not the smartest person out there but even he knows that that can´t be healthy. It´s important that you take frequent breaks to properly recharge all of your spent energy!
Niki sees it as his duty as your boyfriend to make sure you´re taking proper care of yourself so he decides to do what he knows best: Cooking
Everyone knows how great of a chef Niki is, including you, so he takes off a day at work to have an entire day to cook up something truly special for you
When you get home, he cheerfully takes off your jacket for you and leads you towards the dining table where an entire feast is set up. He´s made all of your favorite food and there are even some really good looking desserts!
You wonder what the occasion for a big meal like this was and Niki sheepishly explains how he´s worried because you´ve been working so much and that he wants to give you this evening to just relax and lean back as he takes care of everything for you for once
You can clearly tell that he´s put his entire heart into this and everything just tastes as great as it looks.
You two spend a nice day at home, maybe watching a movie you´ve been meaning to watch for a long time, cuddling on the couch
Tumblr media Tumblr media
170 notes · View notes
bmodiwrites · 2 years
Note
sleep intimacy + mutual pining for the mashup meme, please!
Heck yeah, nonnie - this is a good one!
Eddie starts having nightmares almost immediately after getting dragged back from the Upside Down. He thinks they might've been earlier if sleep was something he could do while being on the run. Regardless, he's sleep weary and exhausted beyond belief. The fatigue makes it so that there's no choice but to succumb to sleep, but the dreams - the dreams yank him back to the cusp of consciousness within an hour of his eyes slipping shut.
Steve notices the bags under Eddie's eyes a couple weeks into sharing shifts at Family Video. He's been looking at Eddie a lot lately, so it's shocking to see how bad they've gotten when he walks in on what's always a busy Saturday afternoon. He waits until they're closing before he say's something. "You doing okay, Munson? You seem - off."
Steve's voice startles Eddie, yanking him back to the here and now so suddenly that he visibly jumps. There's a blush on his cheeks when he finally turns around to take Steve in. He's a second away from brushing the question off when the look in Harrington's eyes registers. It's genuine concern he sees there. Which, shouldn't be all that surprising, Steve's capacity to care for the people close to him is unconscionable - Eddie's never thing anything like it. He tries not to think about what it means pointed at him now. They've been growing close (almost too close for Eddie's heart's safety) but shared trauma does that. Looking at him now, Eddie wonders how long he's been missing the reality of Steve's attention. He sucks in a breath, then shakes his head. "I'm exhausted, man. I haven't slept more than a couple hours in a row in weeks. It's - I think I'm going a little crazy."
Steve is taken aback for a second - Eddie isn't always forthcoming and the silence was long. As the words settle in and Steve really looks, it's pretty clear that Eddie is struggling. Steve remembers a time when he couldn't sleep without his bat next to his bed. The amount of time he woke to make sure it was there is still a little embarrassing. The fact of the matter is, he gets it - realizing the world is dark and scary is life changing. Settling with that understanding is still difficult for Steve and Eddie's journey is just beginning. He recalls finally feeling better able to cope when Robin came into his life. So many times she let him crawl through her window just to share the same space for a while. "Come home with me. When I was struggling with nightmares last year, Robin and I would camp out in one of our rooms and sleep. It didn't always work, but it's nice to know someone's there. I have a pretty big bed. Comfy, too."
Eddie's tired and overcome by emotion suddenly. He's been like a zombie all day but it hits him so hard now - the fact that his mind hasn't rested. The offer Steve brings to the table is sweet and sounds so good that he doesn't hesitate to smile softly, gratefully. "You know what, that sounds good." He waits for the nervous regret to come, but it never does. A part of him always knew they'd get here - wherever the hell that actually is.
Steve doesn't make a big deal out of it - he simply nods and goes back to tilling out the register. They're quiet and move in tandem until the closing duties slowly dwindle down to none. There's an unspoken agreement to meet at Steve's, so he gets into the car and steadily drives home. The open windows allowing a light breeze in keep him alert - he feels more relaxed by the time he pulls into his driveway. He thinks the sight of Eddie's van sitting behind his plays a part, too.
Steve's place is like a mansion compared to the trailer Eddie lives in with Wayne. His eyes bug out at the sight of lamely posed family photos neatly hung on the wall. He tries not to turn into a puddle as his eyes flick across Steve throughout the years. The man is handsome and has been so his entire life - even the awkward teen years looked good on him. It's hard for Eddie to think Steve doesn't know what he's doing, but he says nothing. Instead, he leads Eddie into the kitchen, playing host like the rich boy he was raised to be. It's reluctantly cute, though Eddie waves him off and asks about the bedroom. At any other time that thought would've made him blush, now, he's just ready to snuggle into the mattress (and maybe Steve, too.)
It surprisingly isn't awkward, settling into bed with Eddie Munson. They're both in underwear, what look like matching scars on display. Steve wants to take him in, to make out all the physical things that make up Eddie - it's been a desire for a while, though he's just now starting to admit it. It takes a lot of effort not to do so when Eddie crawls into the left side of his bed. He tucks his head down and takes his usual spot towards the right side's middle. They're close, because Steve knows Eddie needs it - that maybe they both need it. Eddie stays stiff for a second before taking the clearly laid out invitation - within moments, Eddie's head is on Steve's chest, their legs tangled together.
Eddie doesn't realize he falls asleep until the bright sun is blasting him the next morning. When he blinks, the blinding pain he's been dealing with is now longer there. His limbs feel less like stone - Eddie has rested and is all the better for it. There's a warm arm wrapped around his waist; sometime in the night, both Steve and Eddie turned onto their sides, making Eddie the little spoon. Steve's hand is a solid presence on Eddie's stomach. It's apparent that Steve is still very much asleep. For a second, Eddie thinks about wiggling out of the firm hold, but a nuzzle into the back of his neck stops him. Steve's voice is sleep heavy, like thick maple syrup as he whispers - "stay." It's easy to sigh in answer - their position is rather nice. Eddie reaches down and grabs Steve's hand, gripping his fingers like he's wanted to for - longer than he cares to admit. There's no protest, so Eddie slumps down and lets sleep overtake him again.
Fanfic Mashup Prompts
146 notes · View notes
Text
Some dead project from the depths of my files
I was scrolling through my old files, cuz why not and I found this from 2016, I was 17. No context or continuation, nothing. I have no idea who Asam or Calta were, I'm pretty sure they weren't part of Kobani, the setting of my current WIP.
Calta might have been an early form of Narul? But he changed so much that they are basically unrecognizable. Or they could be entirely unrelated.
I might have to find a way to introduce these characters and all of this into the world of Kobani though, whether in the same era as Narul or later I haven't decided yet.
“And then he drew his mighty blade!”
The children leaned closer, eyes wide with innocent fascination. Each movement of the worn old hands of that storyteller, burned into their psyche. The mountain air was crisp and cold, the last of the great flocks of birds had fled for the season, leaving behind the hardy villagers and the livestock which they tended, and yet here these children stood, unheeding to the call of angry kin, asking them to come and assist in the final harvest, the small hands could reach deep into the thorn infested rows to gain access to the red berries within, and yet these children sat, as if entranced by the foreigner and his stories.
“ Calta stood, close to the barbarian lord as I am to you.”
Asam pointed with solemn severity to a young village girl, causing her to gasp in surprise or shock, he didn’t know. Asam struggled not to smile, these village children clung to his words, it didn’t matter which village, the rule was absolute. It seemed these villages still had a sense of superstition and wonderment, one lost by the children of the cities which Asam frequented.
The story he now spoke was one that was fairly common in this country, nothing particularly made it stood out. Calta was a brave Shirovi warrior, a man born from noble blood in the city of Caheer, noted for his excellent swordsmanship and unwavering sense of honor, in this he was fairly typical for the stories of the time, but there was one way that Calta differed in his pantheon of legendary peers, Calta was in fact a real person. Asam knew this well, his father had taken great pleasure in relating stories of how his ancestors had been contemporaries of the mighty Calta. Asam doubted its truthfulness as his father was a notorious liar and a drunk, the man had slain himself, accidentally hacking into his own femoral artery while swinging a sword in a drunken bought of bravado. The stories of Calta were new to these children, far from the hustle and bustle where the stories of Calta are taught to every student, at least those few that could afford such an in depth education.
“Thats enough for tonight!” a voice boomed with deep and unwavering authority.
The group of children whined, as children deprived of a good story often do. The village patriarch, a man that made up for his short stature with a stocky build, walked towards them. Asam chuckled, noting his bulldog like appearance.
“ You have filled your stay, wanderer.”
Asam sighed and stood, his joints cracking and creaking.
“I’ll be on my way.”
Asam picked up his pack, small and wrapped in worn leather. This was an unfortunate truth of these mountain villages, tightly knit communities with little patience for outsiders with little to contribute. In the lives of farmers and country militiamen, stories were not a necessity and thus those who told them, a waste of time and space.
4 notes · View notes
baptistsuicidewidow · 4 months
Text
Perfect Reality
Woke up at my new usual time around 2:15am, and I had a strange thought overtake my mind. But let me explain what was leading up to it:
Recently I found Jeremiahs last words sent to his family and to the McMurtrys and I was really struggling with bitterness again. Each line of his text was full of half-truths, confusion, and vengeance.
-he said I flattered him which wasn't the case at all-he came on to me/I was going soul winning with him and that's all I was thinking about. He was the one thinking we should get married. After he proposed we were both convinced God wanted us to get married since we saw very clear signs-so I cannot to this day say I regret marrying him. I loved him a lot and just wish things happened differently for us.
-he didn't know I wasn't getting his messages. I was advised at the women's shelter to avoid my phone. All the messages were seen too late for me to do anything.
-he said "I'm taking matters into my own hands" when the Bible says vengeance is mine saith the Lord. Looking back at his "I love you Carrie" texts he sent to me only 8 minutes before he sent this weird text to everyone else saying how wicked of a person I was, it just gives his suicide the feeling of, 'you left me so I'm leaving you.' revenge vibe.
-he didn't know my side of the story. (his text said I went to a homeless shelter, which wasn't true- I went to a Center for the Prevention of Abuse which is an entirely different thing... Also, he might have had the idea I called the cops since they arrived with the ambulance which I didn't. I just called the ambulance since he was talking about his chest hurting and his left arm hurting and I was worried he was having a heart attack) But for whatever reason they sent the ambulance, a fire truck, and some police cars.
-he was convinced I was a wicked person and forced reality through that lens. (which doesn't make sense since a saved person cant be wicked to the core? the Bible is full of commands to make amends with your fellow Christians, and the only folks you're supposed to write off are reprobates, but he knew I was saved since we went soul winning together/ we have the same gospel message of salvation which would be impossible for a reprobate to have.. all in all I just think he was not following the Bible when it says to love your wife, and to not be bitter against your wife-that's for sure. )
-he didn't tell me he was struggling with depression, and apparently faked a positive mood most the time. His text said he was suffering from severe depression and I refused to help (even though I had sought out couples counseling time and time again) which leads me to my next point.
-he thought sex was the only cure for his depression, apparently. Since the only thing I 'refused' was sex those two nights in a row. First night I hadn't slept for 24hrs so I declined, and the second night he started a fight, I went to bed, he woke me up demanding sex at 2am to the point of scaring me making me think that he was going to rape me/ to the point where it sounded like he gave himself a heart attack on the other side of the door. So I called the ambulance, not knowing what state my husband was in on the other side of the door. But he refused paramedics help, and was outside with them talking to them and acting like he was physically fine. If he had told me he was depressed we could have taken steps together to remedy that. All I could tell was that my husband was treating me like he didn't love me anymore, and would get mad at the slightest things. So I wanted counseling which he refused.
-he thought I left him because I was mad at him, when in fact I was scared of him. A cop with very kind eyes looked me in the eye and told me based on my husbands behaviors it was unsafe to stay in the house that night since it was in his experience that oftentimes things escalated after the cops left. I believed him whole-heartedly, and to this day I have no idea what would have happened if me and the kids had stayed. But there were no guarantees that staying would have been safe at all, and I forever need a guarantee of safety when it comes to my kids-which is a normal thing for a pregnant mom to want in her own home. Jeremiah was violent, which leads me to my next point:
-he had yet another false interpretation of the Bible-he had told me that it was necessary for his wife and kids to be afraid of him. He said that it was necessary for us to fear God, and somehow he got the idea that it was needful for Isaiah and I to be afraid of him. (which of course isn't at all what the Bible says/ isn't the way to orient yourself towards your wife and your kids) So I was in charge of guarding myself, the baby inside me (rape can cause a miscarriage), and Isaiah-which Jeremiah had proved he had no intention of curbing his erratic behavior around.
But back to my original point. I have been praying to God to help me with my bitterness towards Jeremiah. What he did was murder my husband and my kids' dad. So there's a lot to forgive on my end, and its a constant wound that gets opened on a daily basis, being almost 8 months pregnant, technically homeless, with a one year old son who needs more attention everyday-its a lot to deal with without a husband. But my husband was mentally ill without telling me, so here we are.
The thought that struck me to help me with my bitterness is that Jeremiah is alive right now in heaven. He is really really alive. And right now God has removed Jeremiah's ignorance on what all happened, God has removed Jeremiah's confusion about the Bible, God has removed all the irrational stuff from him. So now Jeremiah is alive, existing with a perfect mind, and I believe he is watching us now. So it doesn't make sense to be bitter against the current Jeremiah, since he is healed and very much beyond his old earthly limitations. One day all of us Christians will be healed and cleared of confusion. We are on the same team for eternity.
The same can go for every living and dead Christian today. When we are on earth, we are full of temporary flesh-faults and sin. Each Christian will go beyond these negatives when they die, and will be made whole in heaven. Jeremiah right now is cheering me on. He might even very well be requesting for our family to be sent all these blessings that we are seeing. It makes no sense to be mad at him now, since he's not his old self anymore. He cares for us dearly up in heaven, and I'm sure he wants the best for us.
Down here on earth a good motto for others (especially for other Christians), "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." Since so much is lost to ignorance and confusion-false assumptions. When in the end we are all just here to give God glory/win souls for heaven while we still have breath to breathe.
0 notes
Photo
Tumblr media
As systems degenerate we find multiple changes in each of these categories and many of these are alarming. 
Social 
- tensions as scarcity of medical professionals available to run hospitals, clinics and labs leading to competition and tension in ER’s and often massive overflow in private hospitals as well, where user pays, creating more competition and tension amongst patients. 
- The poorest people, in the lowest classes and in the lowest decile areas are being affect the worst as the poorer areas collapse first as theres less of a market. Or rather less cash in it. This is leading to only rich people being able to access fast and reliable treatment. This in and of itself is not a problem, rich people aren’t not the problem, the problem is the mismanagement of the public healthcare system. Poor and rich alike would use public systems. 
Tech 
- Technology at a high level is advancing, bureaucracy stops a lot of this from being implemented at a large scale for public systems due to the money it costs. ACC is essentially an enormous insurance company and if the technology is not cheap enough to incorporate ( i.e dirt cheap) it will not incorporate it no matter how much it might help. Australia only has access to 60% of the drugs that America does (America is a user pays system). New Zealand does not have access to MANY of the drugs Australia does. The affect of this can be pretty easily inferred. 
- Technology could potentially used to identify (not prescribe without human oversight) treatments most like to cure the illnesses it diagnosed via blood tests or biometric data. 
Economic 
- With the government borrowing $50 billion for every week of the last lockdown it staged, which was three months at the end of 2021. The government borrowed $200 billion a month, which is the entire countries GDP… for 3 months in a row. The highest financial administrative body forced the government to stop borrowing money immediately or the national budget would not cover the interest repayments on the debt. This has lead to critical shortages of funding for many critical public owned infrastructure with cuts being made all over the city of auckland and many others to try and cover up the fact that the country is just about broke. This has lead to even less money for nurses and doctors, public health staffing. With budget cuts to the public health system which puts unbearable pressure on the public health system. WIth ER’s having to turn people away. 
- Poor people battling the cost of living and rising inflation are having to forgo healthcare as the public system struggles to keep up. 
Environmental 
- The environmental impact of this is quite stark as inefficiencies lead to cheaper methods and equipment which often means more plastic and more waste as systems and healthcare services must use the cheapest and most widely manufactured equipment. 
- public’s hospitals have become high congestion zones. 
Political 
- deep divide along party lines
- deep resentment for government and the inflation they’ve caused. 
0 notes
kierancampire · 1 year
Text
So just as a reminder. I have never liked New Years, however, i started to have so many horrible years in a row, and then one horrifically shit year, that i decided i needed to write down everything good to remind myself that even in a year full of multiple deep traumas, good things happen. But this is where I've struggled this year. Has this been my worst year? Far and away, no, i have had worse. But the thing is, in previous year lots of good things happened, big things too, however this year i struggled to pull out more than 2 things without feeling like i was REALLY scraping the barrel. As yes, i have had worse, but because of my HA and my flat, this has just been a constant, steady, unrelenting stream of shit that has lasted more than this year. But the thing is, considering why i started this and the purpose of this, that kinda made it worse for me, the whole point of this is to find purpose in my years and to give myself a reason to smile and keep fighting, and i was just struggling to do that this year. But, even if they aren't as big or as plentiful as last year, good things did happen, and this isn't why i do this, i complain enough through out the year, so i reminded myself no matter how big or small, good things are good, so here are my joys of 2022.
Starting off with the biggest and most obvious, i got the girls this year. Things have been stressful at times, they were last night even, but they have added so much to my life, purpose, company, something to care about. In fact, all morning i have spent snuggling them and i had a bath for the first time, which they were so intrigued by the entire thing and couldn't leave me alone! I've laughed so much since getting them and i can only hope they provide joy for many more years.
Although i only saw 1 friend once this year, partly my fault as other opportunities came up but i turned them down. Yes, at the start of the year i did meet a friend for his birthday, had a great time, and to show how far my anxiety has come, i even met someone who i didn't know and met him by myself and hung out with him for a bit, which that was really nice also.
This year i once again tried a lot of new foods, new recipes, and am still constantly expanding the foods i eat. Some of my favourite days this year have been when Kayden has come over to visit me, just sitting here and playing games with him, screaming at each other and laughing, those are great! This year, although not many still, i went on more walks this year than i did the last 2/3 combined, so it's a start on pushing myself to go out more and get more active again.
This year obviously the ADHD process got weirdly started, which is leading to an autism process, so i might finally be getting an autism diagnosis soon or just finding out exactly what's going on in my head after years of asking. We had some great snow this year, first time in a while. And Christmas was very great this year, great gifts, great times, it was nice!
One final thing i am hesitant to include, but i feel it is good too. Obviously my HA has been the huge problem this year, why i feel so miserable, why i am struggling so much, why the only thing i wanted was my home to be decorated ASAP, as that was most important to me, yet it still isn't because of them. They have made me cry so much, get angry so much, feel so exhausted, to the point i can't even talk to people any more. But i wanna take a positive from this too. Even though it feels like my HA has given up on me, and i just keep hitting dead end after dead end, i have had hundreds of people let me down, and I've had virtually no support or help for nearly all of this. Here i am. I'm still fighting them, I'm still arguing them, I'm still telling them how shit they are, and i am still fighting for my right to be happy. Am i miserable and exhausted? 100%. But have i given in? Not in the damn slightest. They may be this big corporation, but I'm a homosexual who has gone through enough shit and wants his happy ending, and this will be my David and Goliath story, cause I'm gonna win in the end.
This year isn't as bad as others, this year isn't as good as others, and i won't hope for next year to be better, i won't even hope my issues are resolved by the end of next year. But no matter what next year throws at me, I'll take each day as it comes, and I'll get through it like i have this year and ever year before it. I may stumble, i may make bad choices, i may have lows, and i will definitely be tired, but I'll do it, especially cause i got the girls now.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
1 note · View note
idanny374 · 1 year
Text
Why Buy a Surfboard?
As your board slides down a solid 10-foot water wall, you feel your stomach drop. Your heart is pounding against your ribcage, and you are gasping for air in short bursts. Your gut feeling tells you that this could be the last time you ever are.
Your board shakily grabs the bottom before joyfully holding onto it as you thrust out your heels and lean into the wave. The wave continues to grow in front of you as you sweep the nose of your board away from the shore and off toward the horizon, SUP board.
All you can hear as you struggle to prevent your board from being pulled into the blue-green sheet in your peripheral vision is the breathy roar of the ocean behind you and the quick adrenaline-fueled bass of your heart pounding in your ears.
You have to concentrate despite the fact that salt water is pouring into your eyes. A dazzling spray of white saltwater signals your slowing down to keep up with the wave as you brush your hand against the water's edge to your right.
Unwise move Uncertainty exists. You can hear the approaching wave behind you crash. You must accelerate immediately.
Your board quakes unsteadily beneath you as you crouch down, and all of your concentration is focused on keeping yourself from falling and missing this moment forever. Then, all of a sudden, joy.
You are surrounded by works of liquid art, including a stunning, swirling blue-green glass doorway and a big, crudely painted yellow window that looks out into your world of sun, sand, and palm trees. The dazzling cascading ceiling of the flowing ocean lets in thousands of suns. You inhale deeply and savor this instant. You hope you could linger here indefinitely.
When the wave behind you collapses, a gust of fresh air and sea mist jolts you back to reality. You quickly snap your board off the wave's lip and rocket neatly out of the tube and into the air, feeling triumphant and hungry for more. This is top-tier surfing.
Experience
One of the three major surfing achievements, along with hanging ten and riding monster waves the size of your apartment, is tube surfing. One of the hardest things a surfer can do is ride the tube because of the extreme amount of expertise required to do so, especially when leaving cleanly. In recognition of the fact that it is also one of the most satisfying, many surfers devote their entire lives to seeking out the ideal wave.
One of those sports that you never get bored of is surfing. Whether you're standing up for the first time, riding tandem with your girl, or simply taking in the sunset from your front-row seat in the water, you leave every session with a memory you won't soon forget. Every session out in the water is an open opportunity to experience something incredibly memorable.
Community
With the exception of a few special people, the best thing about the surfing community is that everyone is welcomed with open arms. It doesn't matter if you've just started using the toilet or are well past retirement age.
There isn't a single surfer out there who wouldn't be pleased to sit down, relax, and chat with you about the finer aspects of surf, sun, and sand as long as you demonstrate your passion for the sport. Surfing doesn't call for chilly devotion. Real surfers are all FANATICS, and you will be one after spending some time on your board in the ocean.
Cost
Surfing is unquestionably one of the best investments you can make for the rest of your life. Want to look trim and feel ecstatic at age 50? Take a daily board ride.
In contrast to activities like snowboarding, surfing has a one-time cost. You purchase a wetsuit, a board, and a bag, and you get a lifetime pass to the surfing paradise. You'll just need to occasionally buy a $1 bar of wax to maintain the grip on your board unless you damage it severely. The best time to get a new board and begin your epic surfing adventure is right now, with summer just around the corner.
0 notes
roseadiance · 2 years
Text
gemini in the eighth house
 If anything, Gemini has a morbid curiosity about all occult practices. Like the little intellectual sponge it is, Gemini wants to learn about odd occult subjects and taboo matters.
Interests are varying, diverse, and enticing. Gemini will repeat fun facts about serial killer’s last meals on death row to what kind of crystals work best for tapping into psychic powers.
Spiritually inclined yet not a true guru, Gemini in the 8th House is a jack of all trades but master of none in this position. Gemini’s interest in the occult is somewhat shallow, marked by the desire to know as much as possible without becoming entrenched in occult practices. The beauty of this sign is that they likely know a bit about everything, enjoy the spiritual community, and can add much to the conversation. However, Gemini may struggle with practicing what they preach, or sticking with an occult matter until mastery of that matter.
As multifaceted as Gemini is in this Hidden House, the power and karma reside in Gemini’s mind. Mind over matter, Gemini’s karmic duty is to master its mental prowess.
Karmically inclined, Gemini is incredibly intelligent with a few caveats to this Hidden intelligence. This can come out in a few ways. Gemini’s superpower of its mind hails from its ability to converse, analyze, and gather tidbits of information. While Gemini gathers much to consider, sometimes Gemini’s attention is called elsewhere, which leaves Gemini with gaping holes in its subject matter. This can present as fuel for drama, as Gemini may try to secure its position with information that presents as gossip, being two-faced, or not entirely factual because Gemini may lack some major details.
Gemini’s lack of attention can also lead to a lot of short-lived ventures in a House that aims to secure for the long-haul. This is mainly the short-term reward over the long-term, which can be a result of Gemini not wanting to explore the idea of committing to a long-term plan because the short-term one met all of the immediate needs. If Gemini uses its communicative skills purposefully, Gemini can have a lot of ongoing, varying deals at once that secure Gemini’s way of life. Gemini’s power comes from the ability to connect, converse, and deliberate. Using this power of the mind to Gemini’s advantage can keep up the notion of living as many lives as Gemini wants without jeopardizing any of these lives.    
gemini in 8th: strong willed, enjoys studying and talking about taboo topics, seeks power through communication, understands the mysteries of life, has difficulty staying focused on one topic
Most of the time, this combination expires via respiratory complications. Pneumonia, asphyxiation, blockage in the airways, lung disease, smoking, emphysema, lack of breath. Be extra careful looking after your lungs. Quit smoking if you are a smoker!
Individuals born with Gemini in 8th House are always coming up with new ideas when it comes to their money and that of the family. Most of the time, these natives have to deal with a lot of information, especially when it comes to property and finances. Not a few times, they need to deal with death and the business of people who deceased.
Since they’re curious about what’d beyond reality and interested in mysteries, they don’t mind discussing problems that are difficult to grasp. When having to deal with more extreme situations, they actually become more artistic and fun than usual, which can help them develop their minds even further.
Changes that are coming their way usually make these people pay attention to every little detail. Their intellectual mind is working perfectly when they need to address challenges, but their curiosity is never allowing them to not want to deal with difficulties.
It would be a good idea for these natives to be more sensitive because they can ask the harshest questions and not be too diplomatic.
When people around them are annoyed by this attitude of theirs, they can be very surprised. It’s okay for them to keep their openness and to share their dark feelings, but they shouldn’t be shocked when others aren’t feeling the same way they do.
People born with Gemini in 8th House are naturally curious about life’s mysteries. They like to gather as much information as possible about this and to make an analysis.
Therefore, they want to find out about any secret. As far as them managing their finances goes, they’re full of ideas on how to make a budget and to spend. For them, power comes in the form of communication and news because they want to have more knowledge and this way, to control others.
People born with Gemini in the Eighth House have to be careful not to become emotionally dependent on others. When they need control, these natives want to control minds by being financially supportive and always there physically rather than emotionally.
It seems easy and innocent for an Eighth House Gemini individual to manipulate people or to be manipulated if some financial gains are involved.
Those of them who are more developed and in contact with a higher plane of existence know more about life’s secrets because they’re struggling to discover the Absolute Truth. However, they can become too involved in this and no longer understand how to deal with the mundane or how to put what they learned into practice.
They seem to know everything about metaphysics and to be good astrologers because they’re good at these subjects. However, it’s important for them to not become too intellectually involved and to communicate only with beings or elements from other realms. Real-life should work just fine for them if they’re balanced.
When not living harmoniously, they can become destructive and make all kinds of confusing changes. For example, they can divorce and move house, even their religion. For this reason, they shouldn’t be superficial when judging and analyzing. They can end up enduring too long crises and turn something simple into a chronic problem.
It can be difficult to understand a person born with Gemini in the 8th House because natives with this placement have a complicated mind and can’t reveal anything about themselves and the changes that are all the time happening in their thoughts.
When it comes to their health, they can have problems with their respiration, so any disease with the respiratory system can bother their life. This is why they shouldn’t smoke and take extra care of their lungs.
Serving others creatively
Mercury, the natural ruler of Gemini is a problem solver that’s helping natives to find solutions in life.
Natives born with this planet in their 8th House are always asking the question “Why?”, no matter if they’re dealing with people or situations. They aren’t afraid to address any difficult issue, but it’s possible for others to feel uncomfortable in their presence.
However, this doesn’t mean they can’t give great advice when it comes to finances, because they can see straight in the root of the problem. Those of them who have been emotionally scarred can no longer end up manipulated.
There are situations in which some of these people had toxic people around them, those types of individuals who try to prey inside others’ heads and make them come up with unhealthy plans. But this can happen only in the most dramatic situations.
8th House Geminis can be themselves big manipulators who are playing mind games and hurting others with their words.
This is because they have the inheritance of being able to be ahead of others and at the same time controlling, which is helping them obtain all the information they need on others. They shouldn’t use what they know against their loved ones.
When it comes to psychological issues, they can deal with these very intelligently because they’re logical and can understand a lot. This can turn against them because they know when they’re doing something wrong and still proceed with the same attitude or action.
However, their smart mind can be used when they’re going through emotional problems, as it can help them heal by realizing they’re clever enough to destroy the darkness in them.
In intimacy, these people love to communicate in the clearest manner, not to mention they want to discuss any issue. They’re the same when making love as well, and they can discuss any intimate problem with their lover.
One thing people born with Gemini in the 8th House should avoid is jumping from one subject of discussion to another. More than this, the Eighth House is pushing them to search for the Absolute Truth and to never get things done halfway.
Because they can make intelligent associations, it’s easy for these natives to see the connection between the esoteric and what’s generally accepted. Big intellectuals, they can use their mind in the most constructive ways.
Not afraid to manipulate others
Most likely, Pluto is influencing them most subtly to regenerate and to function better in everyday life, to be more pragmatic than spiritual. But this doesn’t mean they shouldn’t combine the material with the spiritual and use their intelligence to address both.
Others think of them that they have an amazing way with words, as well that they have good morals and a strong ethic.
When it comes to the needs of others, they’re only logical and not involving their emotions. Their life in groups is always changing. When it comes to secrets, they’re only interested in them from an intellectual point of view because they don’t want to gossip.
They only want more knowledge. It’s very likely for them to manipulate others to discover what they’re hiding. They seem to be talented at hypnosis and training others on how to become better. Their curiosity is about what life has to hide, so they can’t rest until understanding its mysteries.
Besides, they’re interested in the occult, all matters of the mind and less about sex, no matter how much they’re talking about it. When in a relationship, they can judge their partner too harshly while not admitting when they’re making a mistake.
The person born with Gemini in 8th House can go through transitions without worrying too much because they’re always sober and can solve any major problem. When it comes to making decisions about their debts, they’re relaxed, so it’s very likely for them to owe a lot of money. At least they know how to make a budget.
Their psychological issues are managed in a composed manner, but they don’t focus too much on them because they don’t have enough patience, nor time. The changes in their life are most of the time happening at the mind level and they can’t accept intellectual superficiality.
This placement is also of those with Scorpio as their Rising sign, so they’re not accepting to deal with matters with no substance or people who are not listening to their instincts. For this reason, they don’t like small talk, no matter how much this can help them.
Many of the 8th House Geminis dismiss the love of their siblings because they can’t find it in their heart to care for these people.
The changes coming their way are most of the time casual, but they don’t mind and welcome them. This 8th House placement is the one of dreamers and those who are happy in strange situations.
1 note · View note
The Green Stuff
Fandom: DC, Superman, Clark Kent, Superman’s Daughter!Reader
Word Count: 3052
TW: Torture, Pain, Burns, Suffocation, Drugged, Kidnapped
Tumblr media
It has never been easy having Superman as a dad. Of course, you love him to death, and he has always been the best father a person could ask for, but trying to live up to his legacy has always seemed like a herculean task. And it wasn’t helped by the fact he constantly refused to let you venture out on your own. Though you had been working with him for years as his sidekick, he put his foot down when it came to letting you go out on solo missions. You thought maybe now that Jon was old enough and he had been joining the two of you on rescues, things might change. But if anything, it had seemed to make your dad even more reluctant to let you go off on your own.
To make matters worse, your godfather was no help on the subject. You would have thought a man who raised multiple children from a young age to be his partner in crime would be more open to the idea, however, Bruce was just as adamant as your dad that you stuck by his side. Which really wasn’t fair since Dick left to go solo and become Nightwing around your age! But they both claimed that your powers needed more supervision, more oversight, more – blah, blah, blah. You were sick of it!
So, one day when you are walking home from your day job and you hear a cry for help coming from an alley a few blocks over, you jump at the chance to prove everyone wrong and show them you can handle a crisis on your own. Quickly dumping your belongings and street clothes behind a dumpster, you fly towards the sound of the distress call in your costume. Landing carefully, you peer down the darkened alley but you can’t see anyone.
“Hello? Did someone call for help? It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you.” You take a few steps further into the alley.
Suddenly, you hear a sound behind you, and something sharp stings the back of your neck. Whipping around, you knock a syringe out of the hands of the masked man who is now standing a few feet in front of you. Looking down at the needle on the ground as it drips a single green drop from the end, you smirk smugly. While you had to admit you were surprised that the needle had been able to pierce your skin in the first place, you know that you were immune to practically every poison or knockout drug known to man, so the little jab meant nothing to you.
That is until you try to take a step towards your attacker and almost fall over as you lose your balance. Trying to steady yourself against the wall of the alley, you realize your vision is beginning to blur and all of your strength is slowly draining from your body.
Weakly, you look up at the person in the mask and ask, “Wh-what did you do?” But you don’t get a reply.
Trying to take another step, you collapse into a heap on the ground. Your entire body feels as if it is being filled with wet cement and it is getting more difficult to move. Somehow, you manage to raise your right hand to your chest and press down on the communication link hidden there.
Almost immediately, your dad’s voice rings out slightly concerned but more curious as to why you are calling him. “Hey, are you okay?”
“D-dad… help-p…” you manage to stutter.
Instantly, the confusion in his voice switches to fear as he hears you struggle to get the words out. “What happened? Where are you?”
“…messed up……” Whatever had been injected into your system finally overtakes you completely as your hand falls away from your chest and your eyes flutter closed.
The last thing you hear as the darkness swallows you is your dad screaming your name through the link.
Tumblr media
When you finally wake up an indeterminate amount of time later, you feel weaker than you have ever felt before. Even just opening your eyes and shifting your head slightly to look around at your surroundings takes almost everything in you to accomplish. The dim red lighting makes it hard to see anything, but you spy a row of test tubes with various colored liquids on a table by the wall. There are also a few men with guns circling the spot where you are laid out, eyes never leaving you and fingers twitching near the triggers. This is slightly concerning. Under normal circumstances, you are just as bulletproof as your dad. But in your current state…
Glancing down, you realize that you are strapped to a long steel table by thick metal straps across your torso and over each wrist and ankle. You can feel a soft buzzing coming from the restraints, a tell-tale sign they are infused with magic. You and your powers are extremely susceptible to magic. This is not good.
Suddenly, the red lights disappear as a blinding clear examination light shines directly in your face. Blinking at the sudden brightness, you see a figure enter the room and move between the armed men heading directly for you. You sneer defiantly. “Luthor. I should have guessed.”
The supervillain grins as he approaches you. “Hello my dear. I must say this is a surprise. I was expecting to capture your father or perhaps even your brother, but you will serve my purposes just as well. For you see, I have a few little experiments I have been hoping to run, but I have just been waiting for the perfect test subject. And you will do nicely.
“After my many years of confrontations with your father, I have managed to learn about some of his weaknesses.” He gestures to your cuffs. “Magic for one has always seemed to be outside the might of your powers. Also, these red solar lights.” He points to the lights that had previously been shining on you. “They seem to sap your strength to essentially human levels. As does this.” He pulls out a piece of green kryptonite from his pocket and you flinch. He smiles at your reaction. “Yes, this has always been my greatest weapon against you Supers. And yet, none of these individual elements have ever been enough to stop you by themselves. Which had me wondering…..”
Luthor walks over to the row of test tubes. “What would happen if I were to combine these elements into a single weapon? Would that finally be enough to stop you? And so, I have had my research team working on this very question for almost a year now and they have come up with some very interesting results. The only problem was, I needed a test subject first. A little trial and error if you will. Which is where you will come into play.”
You gulped nervously. Luthor might be an evil maniac, but he was also a genius with the money to be able to hire all the top medical minds to help him. If he thought he had a weapon to use against you, there was little doubt in your mind it would work or, at the very least, slow you down immensely. But you still have one hope left.
“If I were you Luthor, I would forget your little experiment and start leaving town now. I managed to make a distress call before your man grabbed me. My father will be coming for me at any moment,” you sneer defiantly, trying to hide how scared you really are.
But Luthor just grins. “Don’t worry, I planned for that. You see, the bottom six floors of this building, which we are on the bottom of, have each been lined with a three-inch layer of lead so he will not be able to see you down here. Then, both the walls of this room and the outer rooms surrounding it are covered with these red solar lamps. I have temporarily turned these off but the ones in the other room are still on at full charge. Plus, I mixed green kryptonite into the glass of each of the bulbs for extra protection. So even if he manages to find you, in theory by the time he gets into this room he will be too weakened to save you. Call it another experiment.”
Your heart sinks as the last of your hope evaporates. Luthor was right. Even if your dad found you, it would be too dangerous for him to try to save you. You are on your own.
Luthor sees your expression drop as the realization hits you and his smile widens. Cheerfully, he says, “Now that all of the explanations are out of the way, I believe it is time for the experiments to begin!”
He grabs a small beaker full of thick, slime-like green liquid off the table next to you. Using a small pipette, he drips a few drops onto your arm. The second the liquid touches your skin, it begins to burn like acid. You can actually see smoke streaming up from the bubbling puddle on your arm. You try to fight through the pain but within seconds, you are a screaming, quivering mess as you try desperately to wipe the liquid from your arm. However, all attempts to do so just spreads it around more, increasing the area that is burning. Just when you think the pain can’t get any worse, Luthor places a few drops on your leg this time. You jerk and strain against the bindings, but the magic infused within them makes them impossible for you to break. You are forced to lay there and just endure the pain.
Three more drops are placed in various other areas of your body. By this point, you are half-delirious from the pain and the smell of your burning flesh is making you nauseous. Finally, Luthor takes pity on you and has one of his assistants wipe the liquid from your skin. While the burning doesn’t go away completely, the intensity does decrease to some extent. Cautiously, you glance at the burn on your arm and immediately wished you hadn’t. If the smell had been bad, the sight of your raw, half-dissolved flesh is a hundred times worse.
You only feel half-conscious right now as exhaustion, disgust, and pain all swirl throughout your body. But at least it is over…. or so you think. Before you even have a chance to recover from the first experiment, Luthor approaches you with a glowing green syringe. You struggle weakly again, even though you know it is pointless. Before you can even mutter a weak plea for him to stop, he jams the needle into your arm and presses down on the plunger. Immediately, it feels like fire is burning through your veins. You can feel the exact spots where the poison has reached as it travels through your system, carried by your overactive bloodstream. Soon, your entire body is in flames. You jerk and twitch as the poison begins to mess with your nervous system. And as your mouth suddenly begins to fill with blood, you realize you have bitten through your tongue.
Luthor is saying something as he hovers over you, but your brain can’t comprehend the words. However, you see him grab another syringe and inject you in the same spot. And just like before, you can feel the liquid traveling throughout your body, but this time, it is like an icy wave quenching the flames that are burning within you. You let out a shaking sigh of relief as you lay panting, weak and aching, on the table. Silently, you beg for your dad to show up to save you even though deep down you know he can’t. This room would be just as dangerous to him as it is to you. Yet, you can’t help imagining him busting through the ceiling and taking you away from this hell.
Once again, Luthor approaches you, this time with an oxygen mask. As you weakly try to struggle away from him, he says, “Don’t worry. This is the last one. After this experiment is through, I will have no more use for you and your pain can end. However, in the meantime…”
He slips the mask over your head and tightens it around your nose and mouth. You try to fight back, but at this point you are too weak to do much more than rock your head back and forth. Luthor smiles as he turns on the nozzle of the tank that is connected to your mask. You watch helplessly as green gas begins to travel up the tube and streams into the mask. You try to hold your breath, hoping you can outlast whatever is in the tank. However, you are just too weak to hold out for long. As soon as you gasp your first breath, the gas is sucked down your throat and into your lungs. You immediately struggle to breathe as the gas burns like volcanic smoke, scorching whatever it touches. Within seconds, your throat and lungs are in searing pain as your chest heaves violently, struggling to get the tiniest bit of oxygen from within the green gas. But it is a fruitless effort.
Soon, your vision begins to blur and darken, unconsciousness finally coming to rescue you from your pain. But on the very edge of your awareness, you hear a crash, followed by the sounds of a struggle. Seconds later, the mask is ripped off your face and thrown across the room. You gasp wildly, struggling to breathe through your ruined throat and lungs as you feel your restraints being unlatched. As your vision slowly returns, you look up at the familiar shape of your rescuer.
“-uce.” is all you can manage to wheeze out as you gaze gratefully at your godfather.
Batman stares down at your brutalized, tortured form. In all the years you had known him, you had never once called him Bruce while he was in costume and this fact worries him almost as much as your appearance.
He places a hand gently on your head, running it softly over your sweat-dampened hair. “Don’t worry. You’re safe now and everything’s going to be okay.” He hits the button on his intercom and speaks into it. “Superman, I found her. Luthor escaped but I managed to round up most of his men. She’s alive but…. she’s in bad shape. You need to come get her.”
“-o… no… t-trappp… don’t.. let… him…” you agonizingly squeeze out in a jagged croak. Besides just the traps you knew about, who knows what other surprises Luthor might have set for your father in case he tried to save you. You couldn’t risk him coming here even though Luthor was gone and all you wanted in the world right now was your dad.
Somehow, Bruce understands what you were struggling to say, and he speaks back into the intercom, “Change of plans. Just meet me on the street right outside the building. We will be up there in a minute.”
As he clicks off, you nod softly in thanks as he gathers you carefully into his arms. Every muscle, every bone, every cell in your body aches and you can’t hold back the moan that escapes your lips as you settle against his chest. Moving as quickly yet as carefully as possible, Bruce carries you from the lab. As he enters the next room, you flinch deeper into Bruce as you are bombarded by the multitude of red sun lamps. He notices and picks up his pace.
As soon as you are out of that room and headed up towards the surface above, you feel your muscles slightly relax. Already you can feel the draw of the yellow sun high above you alleviating some of the agony that still courses through you. And as soon as Bruce opens the front door of the building and you feel the first rays of the sun on your skin, it is an instant relief. And that relief is only intensified when you feel Bruce transfer you into your dad’s waiting arms. As they wrap tightly around you, you weakly look up to his tearstained face.
But he gives you a small smile as he says, “Hey, baby. It’s okay. You’re safe now. I won’t let him hurt you anymore.” He nods his thanks to Bruce before gently lifting off into the air. “This should help you feel a little better and heal faster.”
He quickly soars up higher and higher until the two of you are hovering just on the edge of the atmosphere. And he was right. The radiation from the sun is much more intense up here and it feels like a wave of cooling air across your injuries. While it isn’t instantly healing your wounds, it is definitely easing some of the pain.
You burrow your face into the “S” on your dad’s chest as you manage to squeeze out, “.. I’m… s-sorry… Da…”
“No, baby. This was not your fault. I should have been there for you when you called, and I wasn’t. But I am so proud of the way you dealt with everything. I think I’ve been wrong this whole time to try and hold you back, keep you close. You are more than capable of handling yourself and I should have let you branch out more on your own a lot sooner. I’m sorry.”
You blink in surprise. You had assumed this experience would have made him want to keep an even tighter grip on you instead of giving you more freedom. “I ‘ppreciate it… but ma-maybe no… solo missions… for a while.”
Your dad smiles down at you before placing a light kiss to the top of your head. “Take as long as you need. But just know when you feel you are ready, I believe that you will be one of the greatest heroes this world has ever seen. But for now, get some rest.”
So, with your dad’s praise ringing in your ears and the sun’s rays warming your skin, you let yourself drift off to sleep, finally escaping the nightmare you had been through.
78 notes · View notes
aminiatureworld · 3 years
Text
Enigmatic Feelings
Characters: Albedo, Diluc, Xiao, Zhongli, gn!reader
Word Count: 5,544
Warnings: None
Premise: Love is a potent force. And sometimes little things take on larger meanings, especially when one party is unaware of them.
In which the reader’s s/o is jealous
Author’s Note: This trope is 100% my guilty pleasure. I hope I did it justice.
I also realized while writing this that all these characters have the emotional understanding of a teaspoon, but they’re trying their best, so that’s what counts.
Albedo
Albedo was many things. A great alchemist, a man of secrets, a weapon with which one might someday bring destruction. He was even a lover, albeit an unpracticed one. But what he was not was emotional. Or so he thought.
Of course Albedo knew what jealousy was, knew the sort of stupidity that people could fall into when altogether too infatuated with their own love. But just because one knows what jealousy is does not mean one must fall prey to such things. Or so Albedo assumed.
It was the fourth day in a row that a knight had approached your door. Friedrich was his name, and he was doing a stellar job at capturing your attention, and pulling on emotions that Albedo had long told himself he didn’t contain.
Today the flower was a Windwheel Aster, swaying this way and that in the pocket of space between your two hands. You were smiling at it, or rather at Friedrich, brightly, fingers mere moments away from Friedrich as you went to claim the fourth flower this week. Though the was nothing necessarily untoward in Friedrich’s movements, and Albedo would much rather a person of integrity be attempting to woo you, even if the idea itself turned knots in his stomach; nevertheless it still left a bad taste in the alchemist’s mouth, and a worry in his heart that he was not so immune to jealousy as he’d previous assumed.
“Thank you!” You spoke to Friedrich, giving one last wave before walking back over to Albedo. “Albedo look! It’s a Windwheel Aster. It’s very nice of Friedrich to give me one, maybe I can use it, or maybe it’ll be helpful for your experiments?”
“Yes, thank you. I, I think you should keep it.”
As much as Albedo wanted to take the flower and throw it in the incinerator, he couldn’t bring himself to shatter the smile on your face. No matter how dearly it cost him to see you smile down once more at the delicate red petals. And no matter how much it haunted him the rest of the day to imagine you, face framed by a smile, a bouquet of a random knight’s making in your hands.
That knight as Albedo put away the Bunsen burners and the graduated cylinders he kept his mind preoccupied by thoughts of you. Surely he had to tell you his feelings, for if not they would keep building in his chest; building and building until one day he erupted, with you in the line of fire rather than the knight who was creating this whole dilemma, perhaps even unwittingly. Though Albedo had never been in a relationship before he knew stories. Weren’t books full of those kinds of moments? Men, women, people, all of them running over one another in their misunderstanding, in their overwhelming guilt.
No, he wouldn’t turn out like that, wouldn’t let the two of you be hurt in such a way. He had to tell you. Had to make you understand how much his chest constricted when he saw you carrying the gifts of others, had to let it be known before he lost control of these emotions. After all, wasn’t that what happened with emotions? They grow and grow and one day they spill over. And Albedo never wanted these emotions to spill over. No matter the cost.
“May I tell you something?”
The sunlight was streaming through the laboratory windows, the air warm enough that Sucrose had tied up her hair during her shift. And yet Albedo felt cold, oh so cold. He was going to tell you today. He hadn’t been able to tell you three days ago, nor two days ago, nor yesterday. And now the bouquet of flowers that occupied a tiny glass on the windowsill felt quite large indeed. Today would be day eight if Friedrich showed up at lunchtime, and before that Albedo would tell you.
“Of course you can Albedo, I’m all ears!”
You turned around, a soft smile once more spreading across your face. Putting down the pencil you’d been holding you leaned back against the lab table. Albedo took in a deep breath. He could do this. He would do this. He had to do this. No matter what, today. Today, he would do this.
“I-I’m jealous.” The words hung in the air for a moment, as if not understood.
“Jealous?” You tilted your head slightly, worry making your smile slip. “Albedo, jealous of what?”
“Of Friedrich, of you and Friedrich, or rather, I mean, of Friedrich giving you flowers.” Albedo paused, words tangling in his mouth, tripping on each other in an attempt to be understood. What if this was a mistake.
“Albedo,” you shook you head softly, walking over to cup your partner’s face, “I promise that there’s nothing in it. The flowers are lovely, of course, but nothing in this world could replace or stem my love for you. You have nothing to worry about.”
“I know,” Albedo replied hurriedly, worried still that he might be misunderstood, “I’m not trying to accuse you of anything, or say that I doubt you. My love, I will never doubt you. I just, I just feel so uncomfortable when he brings you flowers. It feels like, like I don’t know; it feels like I’m being poisoned, suddenly and all at once. And I don’t want it to affect the way I act towards you. So, so I wanted to tell you. You don’t have to stop, if those flowers make you happy then that’s what matters. But, but I just wanted to tell you.”
You said nothing, staring into Albedo’s eyes, gaze piercing through the alchemist. It was always that way with you. How you managed to destroy the control he thought he had, the wall he’d erected between himself and humanity. How you made him feel unsure and fallible and whole. And, just as before, now your gaze softened and you shook your head, your smile a balm for the raw unfamiliarity of putting together emotions.
“It’s okay Albedo, I’m glad you told me. Just like my emotions matter to you, I’d rather not see you unhappy. To be honest, I just never saw Friedrich’s actions in the way that he probably meant them. We all struggle with our feelings sometimes, I do just like you. Just as long as well tell each other, all will be well. Alright?”
“Yes. Thank you. I don’t know what I do without you.”
“Well you’ll never have to find out, so it doesn’t matter!”
There was no eighth flower that day, at least not one that was successfully given. Albedo supposed that he could pity Friedrich, but in reality he felt nothing but relief. The emotions that had left such a bad taste in his mouth seemed so far away now, for there was you, only you. It would only ever be you for him, and the days in which you said the same thing of him Albedo felt as if he could truly be happy, and truly acknowledge the emotions that swirled inside him, the love for you so great it spilled over into a vast ocean.
 Diluc
Diluc found most merchants loathsome, something perhaps not entirely fair considering his own status as a mover of goods.
Still, merchants in general were an unlikeable bunch. Prone to complacency and greed, this elite circle was comprised of people who thought of little than of ways to line their pockets anew. It disgusted Diluc and as he stood there, watching as a man who had enough jewelry on his body to weigh down a pack mule and a smile that made one want to run in the other direction, throw compliments and boasts your way, the winery owner was reminded about all that was wrong with the world in which he worked.
“So your goal is to attempt to find a route through which we might trade our wine in Inazuma?” You repeated the words the man had just spoken, expression skeptical. “As much as it would mean good business to begin another trade route, I believe the border restrictions will cause no little difficulty.”
“Restrictions such as those are nothing for a man like me.” The merchant smile once more and Diluc felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up. “I have the ability to wave past such an issue. Indeed with the right price I believe I could expand your network to include all of the seven major lands, if you haven’t been trading internationally.”
“Thank you for your offer.” You replied, too focused on the work in front of you to notice the merchant’s roving sort of gaze. “I’ll see what Master Diluc has to say. However I warn you, as much as international exports are important for a growing trade, smuggling wine into locked countries will do little good. Especially considering what the damage could do to this winery’s reputation if such a thing was found out.”
“Don’t worry, I assure you my methods are completely secure. In fact, if you’d like to discuss it in more depth, I do believe that I may be able to enlighten you over a meal.”
“Perhaps, although Master Diluc would certainly have to be there.” You smiled slightly, and Diluc wondered for a moment if you were being purposefully oblivious or simply didn’t notice the meaning behind the merchant’s words.
“I will be back tomorrow, perhaps you’ll have an answer then?”
“I’m sure I will.” You replied, smiling as the two of you shook hands. As the merchant walked out of the winery your smile morphed into a sort of smirk and you looked up towards the balcony of the second floor.
“You can come out now Diluc, I know you’re there.”
Diluc couldn’t help but smile at those words, he truly couldn’t get anything past you. Hurrying down the stairs he swept you up in his arms, sighing slightly into your neck as you tightened the embrace.
“Ever so observant, my darling.”
“I know that you’d never let a transaction or a business conversation take place without your knowledge.” There was a playfulness to your voice, coming from the knowledge that you were utterly correct. “Still, you could’ve come downstairs you know. I don’t think that anyone would need to believe that you were going through your ‘very important paperwork, and lurking around is your night job.’”
“It seemed somehow wrong to suddenly appear in front of you two and derail the conversation.” Diluc drew away and placed a soft kiss on the tip of your nose, chuckling when you immediately wrinkled it. “Especially since you were doing so well on your own.”
“Oh he’s just like the rest of them,” you sighed, “altogether a bit too full of themselves.”
“Especially in this one’s case.” Diluc said, finally letting a scowl cross his face.
“What do you mean?”
The look on your face was one of innocence and confusion, and for a moment Diluc felt his thoughts stammer, as he realized that you truly were unaware of the way that the merchant was looking at you, unaware of the manner which caused Diluc even now to continue to press his hand gently against your lower back. If you didn’t notice it, then surely Diluc was overreacting, surely there was no reason for his heart to stutter and his stomach to drop. Surely there was no reason, and surely he shouldn’t tell you.
“Nothing at all, I just didn’t like his face.” He hurried now to reply, realizing how odd his pause must’ve seemed. “Will you be accepting his proposal for a business dinner?”
“I’m not sure. I suppose it couldn’t hurt. And then it might be a good venue for the two of you to talk. Since you find him especially ghastly, I think a more public meeting might be easier.”
“Perhaps, but I don’t think that invitation was meant for me.” Diluc replied, before realizing his gaffe and falling silent.
“What? What do you mean of course it’s meant for you. I mean you are the owner of the Winery. Who else would it be for?”
“For, for you my darling. Why else would he ask you in such a way?” Diluc tried to keep the acid out of his words. It wasn’t your fault after all. It wasn’t your fault that some louche was asking after you.
“But I’m not the one in charge.” You furrowed your brow. “I can’t make the final decision. And I won’t allow him to attempt to bypass getting your permission either.”
“My darling, I, I think he meant it a different way.”
“What way?”
Diluc sighed, capitulating quickly to his want to tell you. Even if it was perhaps selfish of him, he was never truly good at keeping his feelings masked away, at least in a way that didn’t result in him completely shutting down. And you meant to much to him than for Diluc to try and lie to you.
“You see, I think he was attempting to ask you on a more romantic sort of dinner.”
“What?”
Your reaction was immediate, your expression quickly turning into one of shock and then of disgust. Letting out a groan you buried your face into the front of Diluc’s coat, eliciting a short laugh from its owner.
“Why? I… I… Even if I weren’t in love with you I’d never go out to dinner with him.”
“I don’t think he would appreciate the sentiment.”
“Diluc.” You let out another groan, shaking your head as if to rid yourself of the thought. “Archons, ugh thank you for telling me. I, disgusting.”
Diluc said nothing, simply tightening the hold of his arms around you. Though your reaction was certainly justifiable he knew there was something more behind them, and he felt grateful for your consideration. Though he knew that would always have been your reaction, it didn’t stop the pressure that ha been building in his chest, the thoughts that screamed what if, what if, what if. What if there is something better than you.
“Hey, are you alright?” You voice drifted up through the fabric of Diluc coat. He smiled, relaxing his grasp around you and pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head.
“I will be. May I hold you a little longer?”
“Of course. You’re the only one for me, you know.”
“And you for me. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Those words, though so small, were somehow enough.
 Xiao
The new guest at the inn had been speaking to you for quite some time. That was Xiao’s first observation. The second was that you didn’t seem to mind. The third was that for some reason he suddenly felt incredibly irritated.
It was a beautiful evening, the kind that would’ve normally had you and Xiao sitting on the roof together, fingers entwined, the silence of nature cushioning the two of your from the outside world. It was a ritual, something that Xiao had come to rely on, had come to almost sanctify. Yet here he was, sitting on one of the thicker branches of the trees that dotted the outside of the Inn, trying desperately to quench the anger that bloomed in his chest as he watched you and the guest talk the minutes away.
Perhaps the worst part was that you didn’t seem to mind. Instead of pulling the conversation towards a close, you seemed perfectly content to keep talking, smiling brightly and quickly answering the questions of this uninvited guest. Normally Xiao didn’t care about , or rather didn’t keep track of, the people you spoke to. Of course you would have friends, would have people that mattered to you. Just because Xiao had disconnected himself from humanity didn’t mean that you had to. So why was he so angry?
His patience ran out when the guest reached for your hand. Sidling next to you as fast as he could Xiao peeled off his invisibility, enjoying the shock that registered across the uninvited guest’s face as he moved his hand back. Reaching to entwine his hand with yours Xiao shifted his gaze towards your face. Shock was painted into your expression, but there was also something else, a glimmer of happiness or of satisfaction. Somehow it unnerved Xiao, and he focused instead on the task at hand, whatever that task was.
“It’s getting late.”
“Oh, of course.” Turning back to the guest you smiled sheepishly. “I’m sorry to cut this short, but perhaps we’ll speak again some other time?”
“Gladly!” The man’s face lit up, before Xiao’s glaring left him scampering down the steps.
“Xiao, is something wrong?” The question was so genuine, without any sense of knowing more than you let. Unfortunately the question was also unanswerable.
“It’s late. We should go.” Xiao gestured towards the roof, hoping the reminder would flush the question out of your head.
“You’re right, I suppose it is getting late. And we wouldn’t want to waste such a wonderful evening.” You smiled. And yet somehow Xiao felt unplacated. He was happy, wasn’t he? So why, why did the question hang in the air, and why did the discontent remain?
The next day was a lazy one, as Xiao waited for you to be done with work. More than usual he missed you, and he wished that the hours would go faster, so he might be able to once more enjoy your presence, to banish the discontent that he still felt, evening after an hour spent wholly in your company.
Eventually the sun made its descent from the heavens, and Xiao pulled himself once more to the perch on the tree he’d taken the night before. Gazing down at the balcony he saw the familiar figure of the unwanted guest, and a stab of anger flashed through him. This was made all the worse by your entrance, and the fact you once more stopped to make time for this intruder.
The man was just as insufferable as before, full of jokes that Xiao didn’t understand and words that though praising of you felt somewhat hollow, almost insulting. You laughed along to these jokes, smiled at these odd compliments. And when the man asked if you might be willing to talk more over some sort of meal you merely smiled.
Xiao, however, found the whole ordeal unbearable. Why should this person be asking all these things, be prying you with words of intimacy and familiarity. Had he not arrived yesterday? Was he not an utter stranger? Confusion mixed with irritation in Xiao’s head, and he found it difficult to hold on to the stony reason he’d built up. What was going on? What was this terrible feeling of anger and want? He couldn’t understand human ways. Less could he understand why they should have any sort of effect on him.
Still he had to do something. Had to do anything. Swooping down once more Xiao began the same charade. This time, however, the man merely jumped, and for all his glaring Xiao couldn’t dislodge the guest from his place on the balcony.
“It’s late.”
“Ah it is. Are you hungry?” He asked, addressing you once more.
“I’m not at all, but Xiao’s right. It is late. If you haven’t eaten yet then perhaps you should. Smiley Yanxiao is quite strict about his rest.”
“Ah, then perhaps you’re right. Still, why not join me? You can tell me your name, and we can talk a little more about the things you do.”
“You don’t even know their name.” Xiao spat out the sentence, barely able to contain the odd sort of irritation that still spun around him. He asked you all those questions, said all those words of praise, all without knowing your name. It felt somehow dehumanizing, somehow… wrong.
“I would be glad to learn it.” The man smiled.
Xiao simply shook his head. He needed to leave. It was becoming too much again, and the last thing Xiao wanted was for a stranger to see him this way, see him unsure and confused and not a little frightened of these alien emotions. Glaring at the man one more time Xiao scooped you up. Ignoring the surprised shriek that you let out he shot up into the sky, moving towards the familiar sanctuary of Jueyen Karst, deeply grateful that the guest, whatever he could do, could never fly.
“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” You asked, barely giving Xiao the time to set you down onto one of Liyue’s sloping peaks before asking him the one question he couldn’t answer.
“Nothing.”
“Well it’s certainly not nothing. You’re being awfully rude to that guest, and I can’t understand why. Usually you don’t really care about those sorts of things. So something must be wrong, and I want to know what it is.”
A pause.
“Please.”
“I can’t.” It was all Xiao could say, the only thing that would truly encompass the truth, because in truth he couldn’t. He himself didn’t understand it.
“What do you mean you can’t?”
“My chest hurts.”
“What?” Immediately your face shifted into one of worry, and you placed a soft hand over Xiao’s heart. Somehow the gesture was calming, and Xiao closed his eyes, enjoying the receding of the hot bands that had just been restricting him.
“My chest hurt when I saw you with that, that guest. My chest hurt and I felt angry. That’s what’s wrong. My chest hurt, but now it doesn’t; and I don’t understand it.”
There was a pause, and Xiao studied the expressions on your face, watched as they shifted from worry to confusion to caution.
“Xiao, is it possible you were jealous?”
“No.” The idea was somehow insulting.
“It’s alright to be jealous Xiao. It just means you care about someone very much. You don’t have to just dismiss it like that. I want to make sure that you’re alright, so please be honest. Is it possible you were jealous?”
Xiao let another gap form in the conversation, trying to figure out how to answer. The suggestion felt demeaning, felt as if he somehow had no control over himself, no trust of you. And yet it somehow made sense, and even as he shook his head he found himself letting out a different answer.
“I don’t know.”
“It’s okay if you don’t. I know that new emotions can be frightening, can be difficult to deal with. But Xiao, I’ll always love you. It doesn’t matter who else I meet or what else happens in my life. I love you the way that a bird loves the sky. You’re a part of my life I could never lose. So even if this isn’t jealousy, even if I’m wrong, I still want to let you know. I love you.”
Xiao sighed, a smile finally gracing his lips, the pain in his chest finally melting away. What did he ever do to deserve such a person as you, he would never know. He wished he could repeat those words back to you word for word, wished that he could explain that his love for you was all encompassing, had seeped through the cracks of his existence and his life. He wished he could form together the words necessary to convey his love for you. Even if it was impossible he still wished it.
So instead he leaned over towards you. Letting out a gentle sigh he brought his lips to yours, reveling in the soft sensation of your mouth against his, reveling in the way you leaned against him, bringing you arm up to his neck, letting out a soft breath of contentment as the two of you disconnected.
You didn’t ask him anything else, and for the rest of the evening you two sat on the grass, watching the fireflies dance around you as you leaned against one another.
Perhaps Xiao didn’t yet understand the extent to which he loved you, the emotions that had now risen up, given life by the love you’d poured into the adeptus. Perhaps he didn’t understand this yet, but he knew that all would be well. For with you all that irritation seemed so far away, as if it belonged to a Xiao of yesterday. Because here and now you two were together, breathing in the same mutual contentment, the same mutual trust, the same mutual love. And that present was more important than any jealousy could be.
 Zhongli
Looking back on the matter Zhongli admitted that maybe pretending the problem didn’t exist was probably not the best solution.
It was only that you two had seemed so oddly content in talking, so, compatible, that Zhongli couldn’t help but feel a twinge of discontent, a tension that spread through his jaw and down to his stomach. He didn’t quite understand the nature of the emotion that now spread over him, but he did understand that it was connected to the bond that was now forming between you and the vendor in front of you.
“Dearest one.” He spoke softly, walking over to where you now stood.
“Oh, Zhongli!” Your face lit up as usual, and the ex-archon felt a piece of him uncoil. At least some things seemed to be unchanging, just as wonderful today as they had been the day before.
“I’ve been looking for you. I know you spoke of wanting to learn more about the nature of Cor Lapis, and the tea shop has been offering a new brew. Perhaps we could share a drink?”
“Oh that sounds lovely!” Turning around towards the vendor you smiled gently. “I’m sorry, I’ll have to try that lovely soup you were speaking of some other time.”
“Not at all!” The vendor’s smile was good natured, and Zhongli didn’t understand why he nevertheless felt a twinge of uncertainty. “I look forward to it. I hope you two have a nice day, and we’ll talk about it more later.”
Though the stall receded into the distance as the two of you turned the corner, Zhongli couldn’t help but let the moment run through his mind once more, finding it as sore to think about as a bruise might be to the touch.
“That vendor? Oh they’re new on the scene.” You smiled, taking a sip of tea.
The tea house was as calming as ever, the noises of the outside a distant song, and the hushed whispers inside adding to the intimate atmosphere. Zhongli normally loved to sit here, drinking cup after cup of tea, watching as the people came and went about their business, immersed in a small fragment of Liyue life. Now, however, he found he couldn’t stop thinking about the vendor. If he closed his eyes he could still remember their face, and the way yours was lit up while they were talking to you.
“Their name is Eli.” You continued on, oblivious to the way Zhongli’s hand tightened around his teacup. “They said that they set up shop maybe… two weeks ago? It hasn’t been a very long time, and they’re still struggling a bit. I hope that they’ll be able to get their business off the ground, who knew that street food was such a cutthroat world.”
“The city of Liyue is full of people who might make their way in the world, doing whatever they can. Perhaps it is unsurprising that competition is second nature to Liyue’s citizens.” Zhongli replied, hoping his tone wasn’t too curt. If it was you didn’t seem to mind, nodding softly in agreement.
“Speaking of Liyue and stories, perhaps you would like to tell me the story you were going to tell? I very much doubt that Cor Lapis is the blood of Morax.”
“How humans love to spin their stories.” Zhongli chuckled.
But even as he began to speak of jewels and pressure and the minerals that lay deep beneath the earth a bit of him was still preoccupied by the vendor’s easy words and your smiling face.
The next time he ran into you with the vendor the pit in his stomach had only gotten heavier. Standing a little ways away he let the conversation between the two of you flow in and out his ear, frown slipping deeper the more he heard.
“I cannot believe that your stall nearly caught fire on your first day! How unlucky.”
“Even worse that I didn’t know who to try and tell about it. If I had known you were part of the Guild then I would’ve asked you.”
“Well next time there are troubles you can just send a message to the Adventurer’s Guild. We can’t have our citizens being injured on our watch.”
“You sound like true heroes. I wish I could do the sorts of things you did. Your commissions sound fascinating! I would love to see how you go about your day some time.”
“Really it’s nothing, most days it’s quite boring really, just like any other job. Still, it’s nice to know that people have an interest in what we do.”
“Oh certainly! I find what you do very interest– ”
“My dearest one!” Zhongli called out, unable to continue listening to the conversation, feeling somewhat guilty and certainly upset. You turned slightly, smile brightening as you saw your partner.
“Zhongli! So sorry that I didn’t meet you outside your office, I must’ve lost track of the time. Eli here was telling me all about their first days at work.”
“I’m sorry that I got out late. I hope that you did not have to wait awhile.”
“Oh not at all Zhongli, like I said I’ve just been standing here. You don’t need to feel bad at all!”
“I’m glad. Perhaps now we can go?”
Zhongli attempted to smile, but it felt a lot more like a grimace. You stared at him, face the picture of confusion. Taking a step forward you glanced one more time at Eli, shrugging apologetically. Before any more words could be passed between the two of you Zhongli grabbed onto your hand. Walking quite quickly he didn’t let go until the two of you were at your apartment and he could finally breathe again.
“Zhongli, what’s the matter with you?” You asked, closing the apartment door behind you. Walking back towards Zhongli, who stood there silently, you let your hands rest lightly on his shoulders. “You can tell me you know, I can tell you’re unhappy.”
“I have a confession.” Zhongli started, feeling somehow compelled to reveal his thoughts, as if keeping them locked away would only be dangerous.
“Yes?”
“I, I did not like the way that the vendor spoke to you.”
“Eli? But they were perfectly nice.”
“I do not mean that they were rude. They were perfectly cordial. I mean, when the two of you were speaking, I, I felt uncomfortable. It was as if there was a barrier between us in that moment. I, I did not like it.”
“Oh Zhongli.” You breathed out, an indulgent smile on your face.
Reaching up you planted fleeting kisses on the archon’s face, peppering his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, touch featherlight. It was a familiar gesture, one of comfort, one used in darker nights, when shadows dotted the periphery of Zhongli’s vision.
“Zhongli, I assume you know what jealousy is?”
“I know the term and what it means. I admit I am not personally familiar with the concept.”
“Well I am, so let me tell you. What you experienced, that was jealousy, plain and simple. I know it’s very uncomfortable. Jealousy can be such a messy feeling, it sticks everywhere. But it’s also normal. So you don’t need to worry. I promise that nothing will happen, and I promise that these feelings would go away. I also promise that I love you very much, so even if you feel these emotions, you don’t have to worry.”
“How could I ever worry about you?” Zhongli murmured, wrapping his arms around you, basking in your proximity.
The apology only came in the evening, after words and kisses and love had hung long enough in the air to dull the feelings that Zhongli had been carrying around. Now he lay there next to you, chin resting gently on your head, suddenly realizing that he’d most likely acted quite rudely.
“I’m sorry I ignored Eli.”
“I’m sure they’ll understand.” You murmured. “Though I’m not actually sure what got you riled up about them.”
“You are also a bit oblivious dearest one,” Zhongli let out a soft laugh, “it seems they were quite taken with you.”
“Were they?” You asked, tone betraying your surprise. You paused for a moment, as if trying to replay your interactions. “I never noticed. To be honest, I don’t think I could ever notice, not when I have you.”
“Thank you.” Zhongli whispered, oddly overcome by the confession.
As he lay awake, carding gentle fingers through your hair and listening to the even breaths of your sleeping form he pondered just how lucky he was. Precious gems might come from pressure and earth and chance. But you were more precious than all of them. And he’d never forget that.
633 notes · View notes
neonlights92 · 3 years
Text
GRACE: Chapter I
Kim Namjoon lost himself when he lost his hand.  Things have not been the same for him since.  When Taehyung tells him it’s time for him to marry - he isn’t exactly thrilled at the prospect of someone else having a front row seat to his struggle with himself.
That’s where you come in.  You’re a nurse, as well as a member of Bangtan, and Taehyung is never more sure about a match than he is with you and Namjoon.  Feeling like you’ve been chosen to help Namjoon on his journey back to finding who he is, you feel completely out of depth.
It’s only when you start to see the man underneath that you start to fall in love with Kim Namjoon.  And maybe after all, you might be his saving grace.
Tumblr media
WARNINGS: Language, eventual sex and some violence
A/N:Namjoonie’s story! ENJOOOOY :D 
“Kim Taehyung wants to see you, Y/N.”
Your mother’s words dropped between the two of you, like lead.  Her eyes avoided your own - and you knew exactly what she actually meant.
Kim Taehyung has found you a husband.
Your chest tightened and you gripped the handle of your coffee mug for dear life.
Your eyes traveled over to your father, his face kind but stern.  This wasn’t up for debate.
“Okay.”  The word was quiet, “Do I - do you…” 
You took a deep breath and collected yourself.
“Who is he?”
The question hung in the air uncomfortably.
Your parents exchanged a look - the same look they’d exchanged your entire life when decisions were made for you and they were afraid you wouldn’t like it.
“I think we should let Taehyung tell you that.”  Your father’s voice was steady, “As Capo, it is his right.”
As capo.
You didn’t know Kim Taehyung very well at all.  Though the two of you were of a similar age - had grown up together in Bangtan - he had always been groomed for Capo.  You on the other hand, had been groomed like most other women in the mob: to believe that your most important duty in life was to carry on your family line.
You knew it was outdated.  And you hated it, though you’d never complain.
Life had taught you that complaints got you nowhere - and so you’d learnt to keep your head down and get on with it.
But that didn’t mean you’d never wanted more.  That you’d craved freedom and independence like no other.
And when your parents had allowed you to study nursing at university you really had thought maybe things were changing.  Until you’d realised that it had been a direct order from Taehyung’s father himself - the Capo at the time.
Bangtan needed their own nurse.  Someone who could take care of things quietly and efficiently.
Someone who could help those who were badly injured find some degree of normality.
And that’s what you did.
Still.  You loved your job - mob mandated or not.
“Okay.”  You whispered, feeling something like dread wash over you.
“His wife has invited you to dinner at theirs,” Your mother finally moved her gaze to connect with your own, “This evening.  Eight pm.”
You nodded, on autopilot.
This was what you’d done all your life, wasn’t it?
You listened to orders.  You never asked questions.  You never challenged Bangtan.
And if the Capo himself wanted to see you, then you knew it could only mean one thing.
He’d found you a husband.  And tonight, you would meet him too.
//
You stood outside Kim Taehyung’s mansion -- because that’s what it was, a mansion -- nervously fingering the hem of your blouse.
This was it.
You’d waited twenty-five years for this moment - the moment someone else decided who you would marry.
You’d always known it would be like this.  Your father was too powerful - he held too many cards too close to his chest - and Bangtan could never let someone like him choose his own daughter’s marriage.
He’d told you since you were a young girl to expect this.  An arranged betrothal.
And when you were little you thought it was sort of romantic.  Like some fairytale - a princess locked away in a tower and a knight who was destined to save her.
Except now you were older and it wasn’t all that romantic anymore.
It was stifling.
You knew your father had come to this agreement with Taehyung himself.  You hated that you lived in such a misogynistic world, but it was the way things had always been.
After a long moment and a deep, calming breath, you lifted your hand and knocked, once.
There was a beat and then the portal swung open.
And Kim Taehyung’s wife was smiling widely at you.  You forced your own lips up into a smile.
“Hi!  Y/N, was it?”
You curtsied a little feeling foolish straight after, “Yeah.  Hello Mrs Kim.”
“Ugh Mrs Kim is Taehyung’s mom,” She laughed, “You can call me ___.”
Her eyes were kind as she opened the door further and gestured you inside.
“Come in, please.  Dinner is almost ready and the boys are too.”
The boys.
Your heart skipped a beat.  For a moment you wondered if perhaps your father had somehow secured a marriage to the last available member of the Special Seven, Kim Namjoon.
But you shook your head.
Your father was important, of course… But surely not that important. 
Besides, from what you’d heard through the grapevine - since the accident that had caused Namjoon to lose most of his hand - he had pretty much become a hermit. The rumour mill was rife, of course, with people’s theories of what would become of Bangtan’s most eligible bachelor.
Could it be that Kim Taehyung wanted you to take up that mantle?
“I hope you like pasta,” ___ interrupted your thoughts and you looked up as stopped in front of a large dining room, “We hardly ever use this room anymore, but Taehyung thought it was appropriate for tonight.”
Your eyes widened at the opulence of the room you were stood in.  The chandelier that hung in the middle of the ceiling dripped with what you could only guess were the most expensive diamonds money could buy.  The long, mahogany table was ornate and rich - a dark colour that spoke of wealth and taste.
“It’s a little much,” ___ spoke up again and you turned to see her rolling her eyes, “But it was like this when we moved in.  Taehyung’s dad had a lot of money and apparently not a lot of subtlety.”
She laughed at the comment and you giggled too - relaxing a little as the tension eased from your shoulders slightly.  It seemed you’d found something of an ally in Taehyung’s wife and you were thankful for that, at least.
“I know we don’t really know each other,” She started carefully, a perfectly plucked brow pulling up slightly, “But I like to think of myself as a confidant of sorts… Especially when it comes to matters of the heart.”
You raised your own brow, “Matters of the heart?”
She bit her bottom lip and you noticed the pity in her eyes.
As she opened her mouth to answer you, somebody cleared their throat to your left and your head snapped round, finding yourself looking up into the formidable gaze of Kim Taehyung.
He was alone, you noticed immediately, and you tried to keep your expression neutral.
This was the game of Bangtan.  A game you’d grown up in.
A game you knew well.
“Taehyung,” You greeted, nodding gently, “Thank you for inviting me.  It is an honour.”
His handsome face was cold - barely responsive as he nodded back to you, “Y/N.  Welcome to our home.”
Our home.
The words warmed you.
It had been clear for a while now that Kim Taehyung’s only weakness was his wife.  He would burn the entire world down for her - and you’d been told of this time and time again.
They had started off as an arranged marriage - almost six years ago now - when Taehyung’s father and his wife’s father had worked so closely with one another they had promised their children’s hand in marriage in an act of loyalty.
But things had changed in the years since.
It was well established that Kim Taehyung loved only one thing more than he loved Bangtan - and that was his wife.
You tried to focus on that - on the fact that loveless marriages could turn into something else - as ___ nudged her husband playfully.
“Don’t be so formal,” She teased and you couldn’t believe you were witnessing this exchange, “Y/N is a friend.”
Taehyung actually rolled his eyes playfully and smiled down at his wife, “I’m still Capo, darling.”
She laughed as well and your chest tightened.  You wanted that.
The obvious love they had for one another - the way they seemed to be so comfortable with each other it was like they had found their home.
“Well dinner’s almost ready Taehyung so go and get cleaned up.” ____ said, slipping an arm through yours and leading you towards the ridiculous mahogany table, “Come sit over here, Y/N.”
You noticed for the first time that the table was set for four people.
Your heart pounded against your chest.
“Who is it?”
The question slipped out of you before you even had a chance to think it through.  ____ froze. She was slipping into the seat beside you when her eyes turned to your own.
“What?”
“The fourth person,” You whispered, darting your eyes behind you to make sure Taehyung wasn’t within earshot distance, “My future husband.  Who is it?”
____ looked genuinely distraught for a moment.
You clicked your tongue.
“I’m a member of the South Korea mafia, ____, I know how this shit works.”  You noticed your words were a little sharp and you tried to soften them with a weak smile, “Just tell me who it is.  Please.”
____ seemed torn.  Her eyes roved your face carefully and she sighed. 
“He’s a good guy.”  She told you carefully, “Really.   I’m not just saying that.”
Your heart dropped.  The look in her eyes - the trepidation….
“It’s Kim Namjoon, isn’t it?”
A throat cleared itself loudly from behind you.  You snapped your head to the side and watched as the man himself sauntered towards the two of you.
“You rang?”  The sarcasm dripped from his tone as he stuck out his prosthetic hand for you to shake.  You supposed he was expecting you to be disgusted - maybe to rebuke him - but you were made of stronger stuff than that.
You forced yourself to smile, “Hello Namjoon.  I’m Y/N.”
He narrowed his eyes as you shook his prosthetic.
“I know who you are,” He raised a dark brow, “The future Mrs Kim Namjoon.”
The words were like heavy bricks - weighing down on your shoulders.
You knew next to nothing about this man.  Despite what ____ had said about him being a good man all you saw was bitterness and anger in his eyes.
“You’re the nurse, aren’t you?” 
You nodded carefully and tried to calm your pulse. 
“Well now we know why Taehyung chose you for me.  The cripple.”
____ cleared her throat and stood up abruptly.  Her eyes were dark and angry and she shook her head at Namjoon.
“No.  You don’t get to do that to her.  Not when she had nothing to do with any of this.”  Her bottom lip trembled slightly, “Apologise.” Namjoon’s face was a perfect mask of nonchalance.  His eyes flicked between you and ____ and he shrugged.
“What for?”
____ squared her shoulders, “You know exactly what for, Kim Namjoon.”
“I think that’s enough now,” Taehyung entered the room sharply, standing between his wife and friend.  His gaze fell on you after a moment, “I see the two of you have met.”
You nodded wordlessly, wondering just what in the hell was going on.
Namjoon was seething apparently, as he sulked to the left of his friend, arms crossed and eyes dangerously black.   
“Was he not as welcoming as he’d promised he’d be?”
“This is ridiculous V, we both know that.  You’ve chosen her because she’s a nurse and because of this,” He stuck his fake hand in the air and you refused to look away.
Nobody else in the room reacted for a moment.
Taehyung took a deep, calming breath.
“That was part of it, yes.”  He said evenly, “Y/N is a trained nurse and therefore she can help you move forward with this.  But she’s also a good match.  Right age, right height… Her parents are wealthy and important like yours.  It is a good union.  I have told you this plenty of times Namjoon.”
“I will not marry her because of pity,” Namjoon spat the word out, “I’m not some fucking charity case-” 
“I don’t pity you.” The words flew out of you and when three sets of eyes turned to fall on you, you wondered if it was the right choice.  You chose to focus on Namjoon.
“What?”
“I don’t pity you,” You told him honestly, gesturing to his prosthetic, “What happened is awful, obviously.  And I may never know the full extent of it.  But I don’t pity you.  You are a man with an obstacle in life.  There are many men with obstacles in life.  That doesn’t make you worthy of  pity.”
Namjoon’s eyes searched your face for something - what you weren’t sure - and she sighed heavily.  He seemed so tired.  You noticed the bags under his eyes, the lines in his forehead.  He was young - just a little older than you - and yet it seemed he’d aged so much recently.
“So you want to marry me?  You want to marry a man who’s had to learn how to live - how to do normal every day things like eat with a knife and fork - all over again?”
You shrugged, “I want to do what’s best for Bangtan.  If Taehyung says that’s a marriage between the two of us, then so be it.”
A long moment passed between the two of you.
Namjoon seemed to be sizing you up, and you took the opportunity to do the same.
He wasn’t ugly.  Far from it.  Kim Namjoon was tall and handsome - and from what you’d  heard through the grapevine - he was also smart and kind.
People spoke about him of course - he was a member of the Special Seven - and what they said was normally very positive.
He wasn’t like other Bangtan men.
He was grounded.  He was softer.  A man who used brains instead of braun.
You had to admit, those traits were attractive to you.
Eventually, he spoke.
“Alright then.”  He nodded and gave you a strange look - somewhere between admiration and confusion, “I suppose that says it all.”
Namjoon turned to Taehyung and nodded.
“We’ll get married at the earliest convenience.” _____ gasped from behind you but you barely registered the sound.
It had all been well and good in theory… But now what?
Kim Namjoon stuck his hand out to yours - his real hand made of flesh and bones - and smiled sardonically.
“Welcome to the family, Mrs Kim Namjoon.” You smiled back.  Mrs Kim Namjoon.
You could do this.
//
Planning a wedding was easy when you weren’t trusted to do a single thing.
Kim Namjoon’s family had promised to take care of everything - and as a family higher up in the Bangtan hierarchy than your own - there had been no argument to be made.
This was the way things worked in your world, and you’d learned long ago just to accept it. 
You barely saw your husband in the ensuing months.  He dropped by once to meet your parents and officially ask for your hand in marriage, and once more since then to update you on the wedding arrangements.
But apart from that he was like a ghost - you even forgot sometimes that you were supposed to be marrying him. 
You rarely thought about the fact that by the end of this year you would be Mrs Kim Namjoon and despite the relatively long engagement - six months was a long time in the world of Bangtan - you were happy you had the time to get used to the idea of marriage.
It wasn’t until one evening when Kim Namjoon came calling for you that the reality of the situation truly sunk in.
You were leaving work - it had been a particularly difficult day so far, and absolutely nothing seemed to be going smoothly.  In fact everything today had felt like it was seconds away from falling apart and you felt like you too, were going to break down.
And as you made your way across the parking lot you found Kim Namjoon, leaning against your car.  How he knew which one was yours was beyond you - but you smiled at him questioningly when you were within earshot.
“Hi.” He smiled almost sheepishly, “Hi.”
“What are you doing here?”
He crossed his arms and squinted one eye shut as he stewed in your question for just a moment.  Then he sighed heavily.
“I’ve been an asshole.”
“Huh?” You raised a brow. 
Namjoon groaned and clicked his tongue, “Are you gonna make this difficult for me?”
“What? No!” You shook your head and shrugged, “I just don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The night I agreed to marry you I was a jerk.  And we’ve barely seen each other twice since we got engaged two months ago.”  He ran a hand through his hair, “I promised myself I wouldn’t be like that.  So I’m sorry.”
You cocked your head to the side, shocked at the show of vulnerability.  Namjoon was a Bangtan man - he should be cold and unforgiving - he should push away intimacy and hate the thought of opening himself up to anyone.
And yet here he was, apologising to you for something you’d assumed was just the way things were done when a marriage was arranged.
“Okay.”  You nodded slowly, “I forgive you.”
He smiled softly and you found yourself thinking he really did look handsome like that.
“I’d like us to be friends at least,” He shrugged, “If nothing else.”
You smiled back, “Friends sounds good to me.”
“Good.  Great.  Thank you,” He gestured to your car, “So can you give me a ride home?” You gave him a questioning look, “How did you get here?”
“My driver dropped me off,” He lifted his prosthetic hand, “I can’t really drive anymore.” 
There was a moment of almost awkward silence, but you refused to let something Namjoon couldn’t control, ruin the atmosphere.  He’d apologised to you - he was making something of an effort - and you owed it to him to do your part.
“I can help you with that,” You told him, pointing at his hand, “Getting used to it.  How long have you had it on for?”
“Half a year,” He looked away from you, “It’s still so uncomfortable.”
You took another step towards him and his eyes connected with yours.  
“I don’t care.”  You told him firmly, “I don’t care about the prosthetic.  I swear.  And I’m sorry it’s uncomfortable.  I’m sorry it happened to you.  But I’ll help you.  I will.  I promise.”
Namjoon’s eyes softened at your words and you were taken back by the way he was suddenly looking at you.
God.  He really was so handsome.
“Okay.”  He whispered, eyes darting across your face, “Yeah.  Thank you.  That would mean a lot.” The moment was suspended for another moment more, and you wondered if you might do something crazy like try and kiss him - before Namjoon cleared his throat and the spell was broken.
Jesus.
What was going on with you?
Your pulse was racing as you fumbled around your handbag for your keys and you told yourself the nerves were only because of the day you’d had.  It had nothing to do with the handsome man standing in front of you.
“You’re going to have to give me directions to your house,” You told Namjoon as the car unlocked and you both climbed in, “I’ve never had the privilege of visiting.” He snorted a laugh, “It’s a two minute drive from Taehyung’s.  If you drive that way I can guide you.”
“Sounds good.”
You buckled yourself in and tried to ignore the way your cheeks were flushing at the idea of you and Namjoon being in such a small space together, focusing instead on the feel of the steering wheel under your fingers, and trying as much as you could not to stare at him through the reflection of the mirrors.
That would be weird.
Weirder than you were suddenly being.
“How was work?” He asked you once you pulled the car out onto the main road. 
You groaned, “Awful.  Today was a bad one.  We have them sometimes but it really lowers your self esteem.  Some of my patients seemed like they couldn’t stand my face.”
Namjoon whistled lowly. 
“I can imagine that wouldn’t be a very comforting atmosphere to be in.”
“No, not very,” You shrugged and shot him a look, “But that’s the nature of my job.  Nurses are treated worse than doctors even though sometimes it feels like we do triple the work.”
Namjoon chuckled and you raised a brow, “What?”
“It’s  just…” Out of the corner of your eye you saw him shake his head, “It’s like that with us sometimes.  In Bangtan I mean.  Taehyung is treated with so much respect and reverence - and he deserves it.  Of course he does.  But the rest of us… We work our asses off.  And we barely get any recognition for it.”  He pulled a face, “So I guess I’m trying to say I know how you’re feeling.  Kind of.”
You let this information settle with you.
It made sense of course.
Bangtan was the biggest food chain of them all.  The Capo demanded respect.
And in the little interaction you’d had with him, you saw how intimidating Kim Taehyung could be.  Still.  You imagined that had to be annoying.
“Doesn’t it piss you off?” He scoffed, “Of course it does.  But that’s just Bangtan.  That’s the job.  We don’t do it for recognition anyway.  We do it because we love Bangtan.”
You smiled at that.
It was exactly how you felt about your job.
“Yeah.  I understand what you mean.  As much as it sucks that I don’t always get the praise I feel I deserve… I don’t do it for that.  I do it to help people.”
There was a heavy moment between you both.  Namjoon seemed to be taking in what you’ve said and you found yourself thinking that if it’s this easy to talk to him you might catch yourself falling for your own husband.
“That’s a lovely way to put it,” You felt rather than saw his smile, “My house is just on this curb.”
You slowed the car down and turned to your fiance, surprised when you saw him already smiling at you.
“Thank you.  For this.”  His eyes were gentle and shimmering almost and you once again had to force yourself not to flush, “It’s been…. Nice.” You grinned back, “Alright.  Don’t be a stranger.”
He laughed at that and shook his head.
“I won’t.” He gave you a warm look, “Goodbye Y/N.  I’ll call you soon.”
You nodded, “Okay.  Bye Namjoon.”
He smiled at you once more before climbing out of the car and waving goodbye at you. 
And as you drove away all you could think of was this:
Kim Namjoon might very well be the best thing that could have ever happened to you.
//
552 notes · View notes
claudiarya · 3 years
Text
@un-eteinvincible​ and I noticed how Leigh Bardugo focuses on ‘sight’ when it comes to make her fictional couples express their feelings to each other, and it’s just too beautiful. It’s as if when a person sees you, they know you thoroughly and the meaning behind it does nothing but bring us to tears. 
Here are some examples. Beware there are some RoW spoilers, so skip the last screens if you haven’t read the book yet. 
Let’s start with Mal and Alina. I know the discourse around them is thick, but honestly Mal doesn’t deserve all the hate he gets. He’s just a 17 year old boy who is confused until he realizes that Alina is his ‘true north’, and it’s beautiful that he apologizes to her for taking so long to really see her.
Tumblr media
In chapter 25 of Six of Crows, the one in which Inej climbs the incinerator shaft, there’s this flashback which tells us how she ended up working for Kaz and we have this beautiful line. Inej is so stealthy that she’s able to sneak up on everyone, except for Kaz because he always knows when she’s near. It’s even more heartbreakingly beautiful if you think about the fact that Inej’s wish was to never be invisible again: “She was not a lynx or a spider or even the Wraith. She was Inej Ghafa, and her future was waiting above.” We know well that to Kaz, Inej was never invisible.
Tumblr media
Next who else is there if not our favorite Drusje and Drüskelle? For Nina and Matthias there are many examples that focus on ‘sight’, especially from Matthias’s pov. He knows he’s supposed to hate her, yet his eyes cannot help but always seeking Nina out, as Inej herself tells him. “So why do your eyes keep searching the crowd for her?”. This other passage is very meaningful as well, because we see Matthias thinking that he does see her.
Tumblr media
Another beautiful example are Wylan and Jesper, which to me are really the epitome of a love that’s so pure that it can overcome any obstacle. When Genya tailors back Wylan, our favorite sharpshooter helps her. The merchling’s surprise is palpable and it’s very telling. Wylan has always felt like a burden, a waste of space, overlooked by his own father and yet Jesper really sees him for what he is, and therefore loves him for being himself. 
Tumblr media
These last two passages are taken from Rule of Wolves so they contain spoilers. First we have the beautiful scene in which Genya and David exchange their wedding vows. We’ve been told many times in the trilogy that David is a person extremely focused on his work, and it appears that there’s nothing else that interests him except the Little Science. This changes when Genya enters the picture and it’s done so well that it’s even more sad if you think how their story ends. David sees his Genya in something that means a lot to him, the making at the heart of the world.
Tumblr media
Lastly, we have Zoya and Nikolai. On these two entire essays could be written, so much so complex and multifaceted their relationship is. It brings me to tears that Zoya had always felt like she wasn’t enough, that no matter how powerful she was, that would not make others lover her. When she looses the only family who cared about her when the Darkling expands the Fold, she realizes how alone and lonely she is, how she had kept secret an important part of herself, of her heritage... until Nikolai enters the picture that is. He is the only one who is not afraid to look at her, and see her for what she is and love her despite her thorny exterior and this is just so beautiful. 
Tumblr media
I hope you liked this post. I’m always taken aback by how Leigh Bardugo writes her characters. All the struggles they had to endure and eventually they overcome are what makes them special and relatable and I think it’s just so beautiful that all of them had found in another person that solace of being seen, because at the end of the day that’s what we all wish for, to be seen and therefore to be loved unconditionally. 
252 notes · View notes