#part of which i blame on my desperate desire for friendship to be given the same intimacy and importance as romance

[keyofjetwolf]

Even the narrative is like “NO NO NO TAKE YOUR HETEROSEXUALITY ELSEWHERE FRIEND”

[dannyphantom-justiceleauge]

This may be a minor gripe but something that has kind of bothered me about discussions and depictions of Dan is how often people seem to forget that Dan isn't just an older evil Danny, he's a combination of Danny and Vlad's ghost sides. Like people always talk about him like Danny threw away his humanity and turned evil but that's not even true. Sure, we can say that Dan is the result of Danny's action but that's a little unfair. (1/2)

(2/2) Him cheating on a test, coincidentally putting his loved one's in a position where they could be killed, is absolutely not his fault. Letting Vlad take away his ghost powers with a strange contraption might not have been the smartest move, but we are talking about a grieving CHILD here, of course he isn't going to make the best decisions. If anything Vlad's the one to blame here, and even then, it's not like he could predict what happened

---

you aren't wrong, my friend. it really isn't entirely danny's fault and the whole 'if you cheat on a test, you'll loose everything you love' moral is confused at best. i think as fandom we find it more interesting to look at danny's potential evil and moral struggle with himself. so simplifying it to be dan is a worse case scenario of danny makes the conflict less abstract.

particularly because when it comes to self blame danny isn't going to go easy on himself just because it was excusable mistakes.

i think another talking point should be how danny is the target of the time assassination more than vlad is, even though vlad is part of the evil whole. you could argue that danny is the catalyst of his friends death and vlad inventing the claw things. but vlad invented the claw things. maybe because his human side survived and acted relatively harmless from then on? or maybe it's because the observants based on the available evidence recognized danny as more of a threat. i think that fits actually, for all vlad tried to be an evil mastermind, his achievements outside of terrorizing a teenager and theft isn't particularly impressive. danny was the one who got shit done. all his fights he finished one way or another and i could see how that would bleed into dan defeating everyone.

the real question is how to we fix this. ideally we could shape this idea so it's less confused, though i do honestly find the dynamic of half danny, half vlad interesting. if for not other reason. than two half ghosts make a whole. actually that's something else to be said about dan. his self-loathing is what led him to killing his human half, another negative aspect coming from danny.

i wonder if we could frame it like fusion, from su. obviously dan isn't stable or healthy, or based on love. he's most comparable to malichite. but with less internal debate. dan took the best and worst of both of them. danny's determination, danny's fighting ability, danny's anger, danny's sarcasm, vlad's anger, vlads lack of morals, vlads schemes, vlad's control. heck, vlads desire to rule the world. i don't think we ever got that from danny.

maybe if vlad was more involved in the fight with dan it could have been used as an opportunity to compare and contrast their characters. to go we're not so different you and i. danny gets to recognize that he has that dark potential. vlad gets to be humbled by the fact that what he wants isn't good for anyone, especially himself. and to be fair, we do see some of that humbling with future vlad, but none of that character growth is given to present vlad, so, really it's just another vehicle for danny angst. it also depends on what you want to do with vlad though. he's a fascinating character and could be given redemption under the right circumstances or be a character who has the opportunity for redemption but chooses not to be redeemed every time.

that fits him and makes him both a more pathetic and despicable villain. it's hard to pity someone who ignores the opportunities to heal and grow.

as for danny, he becomes far more aware of the consequences his actions, especially his selfish and cruel ones can have. because that potential was always there. he has a history of abusing his powers. perhaps for this specific incident him abusing his powers can be something less understandable than almost cheating on a test that he couldn't study for through no fault of his own. (maybe i just have flexible morals?). maybe it could be something more character relevant, like he did something particularly vlad like, maybe he set up a prank at the nasty burger to get dash but it set off the explosion that killed his family. or maybe he did something particularly cruel and manipulative. there are better catalysts than a test. either way he recognized that he should never go that far again and strive to avoid being actively cruel.

he also has the opportunity to recognize that vlad does have a human half, even the one he's fighting everyday. he can face some conflict in it's not entirely clear what trait belongs to vlad and what trait belongs to him. he can empathize with vlad and he can recognize that situations aren't always in black in white. those who fly the highest, fall the hardest, after all.

it can be a growing experience. and while making it solely a danny goes bad and learns not to do evil kind of story. maybe we could cut vlad from the equation and just have danny face himself, full evil refection. i think exploring both vlad and danny through this fusion is far more interesting. especially because we can build on what's revealed about vlad in these episodes, in later ones. danny sees a future where vlad chills and that maybe his vlad could get their. later he see vlads past and what he lost to become who he is.

and then there's vlads turning point episodes. i don't know when motherly instinct took place but maddie fully recognizing he's a bastard and rejection him, was a turning point for his sanity, and danny helped it along. then we have danny rejecting him repeatedly, then we the clone episode, which we can all agree was a desperate move on his part, that danny once again thwarted. and we can all agree that this was the cannon turning point for his character where he stopped fighting for a family and started trying to be danny's villain. in that episode, i think danny could potentially pity vlad enough to try and reach out. he's not going to justify what vlad did and he's not going to apologize for stopping him. he went too far. he hurt danny and dani, he crossed a moral line that can't be justified even with his desperation. but if he changes...

he lost this time but if he changes, maybe they'll reach the point where they're ready to accept him.

i think the same thing could be said about his relationship with jack and maddie. if he changes, if he reaches out. if acts like less of a crazy fruitloop, his friends would be there for him. jack is still trying to be there for him, even if he's being oblivious about vlad's faults. vlads the one driving wedges into his relationships and pushing everyone away.

and that's so freaking human and understandable.it would be such a cool thing to explore with his character.

i could also see a potential arc where after valerie finds out vlad and masters are the same person she tries to get close to him, both to sus out how evil he is and to understand him as a halfa. afterall danny got her to acknowledge dani as human enough, the same would apply to vlad/plasmius, right? only he's a bad person and the more she uncovers about vlad masters the man, the more she realizes it's not the ghost half that's evil. but this is a double edged sword because, vlad is getting attached to her and encouraging her to be more evil. he's encouraging her to go darker and darker in her fight against ghosts and her fight specifically against phantom. to the point where she finally draws the line and says, i'm not doing that! boom exploring the moral ambiguity of her character and getting her to take a hard stance on her morals, because there's a line too far for her.

and boom a further breakdown of vlads character because he finally had someone outside the fentons to redeem him. she could have helped pull him out of the hole he'd been digging himself into. she wanted to help him. he got attached to her, but he and his bad decisions decided to dig himself deeper instead. so once again he's 'abandoned and betrayed'.

from that point, i think it'd be time for him to finally face jack head on. not through manipulative schemes. not through veiled threats and insults. but the full confrontation of 'i always hated you. you ruined my life. you're the reason i lost everything'. which is really just his own self loathing speaking. and jack... empathetic jack can see that vlad desperately wants help. and jack would offer it to him. jack would try to hug it out and apologize and give vlad the love and friendship vlad's been fighting to steal this whole time.

and vlad would reject it.

he'd probably lash out a jack and go into a full breakdown/world destroying attack. could finally put the stolen crown to use and try declaring himself king and embracing his megalomaniac thing and actually be a threat this time. and THAT would be our series finally. everyone teaming up to fight 'king vlad'. danny probably finding out that he's technically king because he beat pariah dark but the matter being a bit confused because he had help. val and danny trying to find the ring of rage or at least find someone who can make one. secrets are out. i imagine vlad, upon revealing himself to jack would out danny to make danny as sad and alone as him. except nope, his family still loves him and val has had the character development to come around to him. (she's still gonna punch danny for lying for so long.) the ghosts will come and help because no one wants another tyrannical kind and vlads obviously off his rocker.

ah, the could have beens

anyway, i didn't mean for this to become a full vlad character analysis and rewrite when we were supposed to be talking about dan, but hey, i'm a simple creature. i like good writing, and i have to rewrite things myself, so be it. - Hestia

[misslovasstuff]

Why Dazai is a complex character

We all know how hard it is to get in this man’s mind, right?

First, let’t take a look on what makes a character complex:

- Conflicted or contradictory motives - Change or grow as a result of the story’s actions - Decisions advance the story’s plot - Create conflict in the story’s plot or theme - Learn something about themselves

 It fits Dazai perfectly, right? Now let’s take them one by one.

1. Conflicted or contradictory motives

- to die/to find meaning/to save others/? What the audience is given to realize is that Dazai wants salvation through death. His desire to die comes with a shade of humor to hide how sad and tragic it really is. Other than that, one motive of his is the promise he made to his friend who died on his arms. You see it right? Dazai’s motives are contradictory because he saves people but can’t really save himself. Although Dazai is on the side of ‘good’ which is actually something that doesn’t really exist in BSD world because everything is more like in a gray area, his motives are more focused on others rather than himself. While on the mafia, his focus was on himself, his doom and suffering. That’s what made him so miserable. People aren’t sure whether Dazai has changed, and they question his conflicted motives. But in reality, it’s very simple. Dazai has no hidden motives other than the ones we already know. He’s not the type to aim for power and fortune. Dazai just wants a bit of happiness, he wants to answer questions that are impossible to answer. I’d like to quote a Dostoevsky saying:

“Pain and suffering are always inevitable for a large intelligence and a deep heart. The really great men must, I think, have great sadness on earth.” ― Fyodor Dostoevsky, Crime and Punishment

2. Change or grow as a result of the story’s actions Dazai’s grow is something people fail to see. I’ve read thoughts on this matter and some claim that Dazai hasn’t changed at all. That is partly true.  Before Oda’s death, Dazai was not open to people (and still isn’t) but the difference stays on how he dealt with it. In the dark era, Dazai drowned himself in misery, seeing only darkness and claiming that this is how it always has been for him. Whilst in the time being, Dazai hides his misery behind a smile and happy facade. Bsck then, he made no attempt to change, nor did he tried to look things differently. Dazai was alone, completely. There were times he was surrounded by people he genuinely cared about, like Oda. Now, the thing is, without Oda, Dazai may have never gotten the development he got. Hardly would the things lead differently if Oda was still alive. With Oda, Dazai felt comfortable, not judges. He felt like he could open up with him because Oda would always listen to Dazai without joking around or judging him. That’s the reason why Odasaku was the only person that came close to understanding Dazai, because he was the only one Dazai opened up to. I believe that is becuase in reality, Dazai trusted Oda. We know how easily he can see through people. Perhaps, he saw in Oda that kindness and goodness that intrigued him. He saw such integrity and selflessness that made him lower his guard.  Their relationship was beautiful. They let aside the ranks and always had each other’s backs. Sometimes, between two people, it just clicks. It feels like you’ve known each other for a long time and you find yourself comfortable, you let yourself be. That’s how Dazai was. Maybe, the only thing that kept him happy, was his friendship with Odasaku and Ango. Because those were two people that accepted him the way he was, people who appreciated life and had dreams and goals, something that Dazai longs to have. When Odasaku died, Dazai’s hope died with him. Although extremely intelligent, Dazai is optimistic. He had hope that he’d find a solution to his problem, but Oda’s words shattered him.

Dazai did not cry. But you can tell that he’s ready to. Look at his face and tell me that that’s not the most devastating Dazai you have ever seen. His lip trembles and his eyes give away how hard it is for him, how hard it has always been. This is the moment that Dazai takes the decision to change, keeping the promise of his friend to become a good man and protect others.

3- Decisions advance the story’s plot Dazai is the one who comes up with brilliant strategies, but that’s not all of it. 

- He took Atsushi under his mentoring and hired him as an agent in the ADA.  Atsushi plays a very important role in almost every mission or situation that ADA is in.  If Atsushi wasn’t in the ADA, things might have gone completely different. - Dazai decided to join the good side. Yet again, if Dazai didn’t join the ADA, there would be no Atsushi, no shin-soukoku and probably the ADA would have already fallen due to the immense power the mafia would have with Dazai in it. More people would die, wars would destroy the city and things may have gotten to be worse. - The creation of shin-soukoku The plot goes around Atushi and Akutagawa as the new generation of the double black, a powerful duo brought together for the good of the city, to defeat the greater evil. Their mentor, who sees the potential in them better than everyone else, has forcefully made them work together, which had successful results. If Dazai didn’t make such decision, Atsushi and Akutagawa may had already killed each other. - Dazai decides almost any plan and strategy there is. He plays his cards well and the way he thinks and acts determine the aftermath.

4- Create conflict in the story’s plot or theme - Dazai’s a problematic character for a lot of reasons. He’s lazy, distracted, unbothered, mysterious and secretive. Sometimes, unwillingly he creates conflicts that sometimes as viewed lightly by the audience. Like the shin-soukoku conflict. A part why Aku hates Atsushi is because he is Dazai’s junior  and that he gets almost everything that he himself once desired. He gets praise and acknowledgment from Dazai. The latter, has not acknowledged Aku that way he wants to, but surely he has acknowledged him on his own way. Dazai made him part of the new double black and puts his trust in him and Atsushi. Dazai too believes in the quote that ‘only a diamond can polish a diamond’. Furthermore, we have the conflict between the mafia and the ADA. You may think that it’s not directly tied to Dazai, but he plays a major role. Having Dazai in the opposite team, makes it harder for the mafia to create successful operations. Not only Dazai’s intelligent and cunning, but he’s an ex-member himself which makes him even more of a threat to the mafia. His suicidal tendencies is the reason why he met Atsushi in the first place. So in a way, Dazai drives the plot of the story.

5- Learn something about themselves I believe that this is the point we are all looking forward to. Although we have already caught a glimpse of Dazai considering his worth as a human being in the Dead apple movie, but also in the manga countless times.

Just look at his expression. How his eyes close so peacefully when Atsushi claims that he does things that let him know that Daza’s a good guy (visiting graves and also in the end of the movie...)

Dazai sees himself rather harshly. He judges himself for his past and puts himself in constant misery. Maybe he doesn’t accept the fact that he’s a ‘good guy’, but he’s desperately trying to be.

Take a look to the following panel (chapter 50)

You can tell how much Dazai wants to help and this warms my heart so much.

“Yosano could heal me and I could help in the search”

 He clenches the sheet because of the frustration of not being able to help; that his ability is holding him back. 

HE’S BLAMING HIMSELF.

Like one would say that he’s injured, or that he was shot, but no. Dazai puts the blame on himself like he always does.

I’d like people to acknowledge Dazai’s growth because our boy is trying so hard. Dazai literally went from hell to salvation. He has already found his salvation but he hasn’t recognized that yet.

In conclusion, Dazai is the complex character we so much love. In the future, maybe we’ll be able to see him a bit more happy. Genuinely happy.

(sorry this was very sloppy but I hope you get the point)

[the-ghost-king]

love seeing ur tags on my posts it means i get to think 🥰🥰 anyway mostly agree but at least to me nico’s constant need to prove himself is a sign of feeling like he’s not worth other people’s time and effort and he has to MAKE himself worth it. he does all he can in the hopes that people will notice him and tell him that he’s good enough because he relies on the approval of people he loves. he thinks love is something conditional for him and that he always has to be earning it because he doesn’t have enough worth to have it just granted to him. again this is more my own interpretation of his character and possibly a bit of projection

(Post)

I will not fail to acknowledge that I might also be projecting somewhat onto Nico, what is media but self reflection? I think there's a couple ways you can see Nico that are canonically "correct"

What I personally think happened with Nico is that he was aware he was worth more than the treatment he was receiving, but because so much rejection occurred he eventually just assumed he was the problem. There's things on this I would rewrite now but it holds up okay in what I'm about to try and explain.

The thing about being rejected is that the first time you argue it's the other person. And the second time you'll argue it's still them. If you're still arguing it's other people the third time, maybe but it's thin ice... But eventually you just have to accept that you're at fault.

I think this is something that really describes Nico. He is never able to nestle himself in the comfort of sameness after a certain point. He is not given authority in his own story in the beginning, he is thrust into solitude, he is told he is a monster already and if not then he has no choice but to become one.

And he takes this blame upon himself, believing that it's him who has to prove himself. He doesn't acknowledge that maybe other people have their own biases against him, he says "I have to prove them wrong," and then does his best.

It's important to note that Nico is definitely grappling with Childhood Emotional Neglect, he's in a broken situation- and he recognizes that nobody wants him around, and that he's just more stress for an already stressed group of people, so he just backs down and starts to figure stuff out for himself. We see him accept some help and friendship from The Stolls in TTC but eventually he stops doing this at some point.

His leave from camp and time with Minos is when he is used:

you unknowingly wear your heart on your sleeve and people will see this and take advantage of your trusting nature and unconditional love and they’ll never really love you they’ll just see you as an easy tool to be manipulated and used how they see fit and you won’t recognize that this is a bad thing because you don’t believe you’re worth anything more than this

This is something I would say is very true about this time period of Nico's life. Minos emotionally exploits Nico, emotional neglect and abuse (possibly physical abuse, who knows) are defining characteristics of their interactions. Nico talks about how Minos will just randomly leave him for extremely long periods with no assistance, and about how when he's around he's always telling Nico to try harder, to do better, do more. Note the time he tells Nico "you have no power over me", he's definitely holding things over Nico's head. I don't think it's wrong to assume comfort is a part of that, Nico is alone all the time at this point, and I'm sure he's starved for touch, and support, and connection- and he will take whatever he can get whether or not it is good or right.

At first he doesn't do anything against this, and it might be because he was so starved for attention that he was willing to endure abuse to receive somewhat a consistent form of it. I also think there's some evidence that points to the idea Nico was getting something from Minos, training and similar stuff, it's possible he was willing to form and upkeep a toxic relationship with him in order to gain experience.

However, I do disagree with "and you won’t recognize that this is a bad thing because you don’t believe you’re worth anything more than this" because Nico does realize eventually that his situation isn't sustainable and that he has to do something- so he takes his narrative back into his own hands:

“Minos laughed. "You have no power over me. I am the god of spirits! The ghost king!" "No." Nico drew his sword. "I am.” (X)

So Nico, if he ever thought he was worth the treatment of being used for someone elses personal gain, he definitely overcomes some of it here, if not all of it. Nico is manipulated and used for Minos's personal gain, but he recognizes that it's not sustainable and makes a stand for himself. And this is the first time in the series where Nico truly is able to take control of his own narrative, everything before this moment is Nico being forced, or Nico with something looming over him, Nico crowning himself is him claiming his story.

So let's consider Hades in all of this, I don't think Hades manipulated Nico to the extent Minos did- but nonetheless, he did manipulate and abuse him, and this hurt Nico more than when Minos did it. Again, in the situation with Hades this is also true, "you unknowingly wear your heart on your sleeve and people will see this and take advantage of your trusting nature and unconditional love and they’ll never really love you they’ll just see you as an easy tool to be manipulated and used how they see fit and you won’t recognize that this is a bad thing". By the time Nico and Hades truly start interacting, we see that Nico's heart hasn't been fully removed from his sleeve, but it may have been lightened.

Here's the thing about the way Nico approached Hades, it's not naïve to trust family. The text in multiple places implies that Hades was around for at least a handful of years when Nico was a kid, it's not unlikely that Nico may have taken naps on his shoulder, held his hand to cross the street, maybe called him "Papa", "Dad", or "Tata" (Italian, English, old Greek). It makes sense that Nico goes to him, what doesn't make sense to Nico at first is that Hades would manipulate him. Unlike many of the other demigods, Nico knows he was a choice, and that at some point he was something wanted, so he expects some level of okay treatment from Hades. Hades loved his mother, and Hades if not wanting of Nico would have wanted Maria's wishes fulfilled, and Nico probably remembers Hades treating him warmly- or at least not harshly. The way Nico went to Hades makes sense, he wasn't expecting open arms surely, but he also wasn't expecting abuse.

Hades emotionally exploits Nico by using information about Maria, what would a little boy want more than the safety of his mother? He's so starved for human contact, who ever held him more than his mother? Who ever loved him more than her? Once Nico delivers Percy to Hades, his father crushes him, not only by harming Percy but by exploiting Nico's trust through Nico's mother- one of the things he's most desperate for.

We see Nico's heart come off his sleeve at this point, maybe not fully, but enough to where a stranger couldn't recognize it at first glance, and in a way where he has the means to hide it from most.

Except we don't see much of this, because the series is narrated by Percy- and Nico can't hide his heart from Percy.

Almost everything Nico does, everything he tries to do, is for Percy. Nico is so desperate for contact that he is pliant, but in Percy's hands Nico actually wants that contact, he's not interested in imitations of love or substitutes- he's looking for the real thing.

And Mr. Oblivious does-Annabeth-like-me Jackson isn't in any headspace to realize that a boy might like him, let alone Nico. This concern that Nico will join Luke, isn't entirely because Percy is misreading signals, but it's definitely part of it. Nico likes Percy so much that at one point he is willing to go to Tartarus if not entirely for him, then partially for him.

If Percy had realized, and rejected Nico- maybe he would have joined Luke, or at least he definitely would have been more likely to. The perception of Nico we get in PJO from Percy is unreliable, because Percy looks at Nico through the lenses of a concerned older brother, and Percy feels guilty in some way for the situation Nico is in. This gives not only a skewed, but slightly falsified narrative of who Nico is.

The original post of mine I linked, although yes, I would like to rewrite aspects of it now it holds up in the sense that Nico is always trying to prove himself, and this is a bit different than being a puppet. Nico is so starved that it is present in everything, @/arabnico gets it right:

nico’s longing is just so raw it consumes him whole and he cannot hide it at all because it reflects in absolutely everything he does and is nico’s just the means of the way for them and he settles for being it because he doesn’t think he can be much better or even deserves to it is sometting so twisted because nico has this innate utalitarian desire to be useful and to do something and to do the right thing but in the game of things he’s reduced to that puppet in the hands of fate and deities millennia older than him that see a wounded wandering soul doomed to be forever alone by a destiny so cruel it keeps him on his knees

Nico, in PJO especially, has little control over his own narrative. His mother is killed in punishment for his father's "wrongs", Nico is forced to endure this. Bianca grows tired of caring for Nico and leaves him behind, this is not Nico's fault but Nico is forced to endure the consequences of her actions. Bianca's fate is decided on a quest Nico isn't even able to go on, he is forced to endure the results. Nico then breaks the cycle, declaring himself The Ghost King, and dethroning Minos. Nico is forced to endure Hades's manipulation only because he did not see it coming, this wasn't an aspect in which Nico didn't have his narrative (he had already taken ownership of his narrative) but a blind spot in his rational.

The place where we vary is why Nico behaves this way, we can agree that it's because he's starving for human connection- but you believe it's because he has no confidence he is willing to submit himself, while I see his submission as an act of desperation.

Personally, I think to argue that Nico is like this as a result of lack of confidence does a disservice to his narrative (obviously it's fine to view him however you wish, and I wish you all the fun in doing so!). To boil this down to starvation and lack of confidence removes some level of Nico's autonomy in his own life, but also strips him of one of his strongest characteristics- those qualities of him which are like Orpheus.

Nico willing to go to the ends of the earth for love is not a weakness but a strength, his ability to carry on beyond the point in which he needs a rest is not a weakness but a sign of strength. His ability to go to the ends of the earth to right wrongs, and to show his love:

"... Cupid struck, slapping Nico sideways into a granite pedestal. Love is no game! It is no flowery softness! It is hard work- a quest that never ends. It demands everything from you- especially the truth. Only then does it yield rewards."

Cupid is explaining Nico's idea of love in this scene, we see Jason say he prefers Piper's idea of love- but Nico only knows love in the way cupid describes, working desperately for a few moments with Bianca, working just to hear any scrap of information about his mother, always trying to prove himself to Percy- to overcome the way he feels about Percy (and boys in general).

Nico has only known love as something you walk to the ends of the Earth for, but he never stops fighting to be loved and acknowledged. Lesser men would give up and lay down, accept they are unworthy, but Nico keeps pushing to be acknowledged and accepted- to be recognized and loved without having to walk to the end of the Earth, but Nico knows he has to walk to that edge and face it before unconditional love will come to him.

To imply that Nico seeks love the way he does because he's unconfident in his ability to receive love ignores the idea that he's had his life forced into this position because of the fates. It loses acknowledgment to the strength it takes to pick yourself up and walk to the end of the Earth time and time again, because if he was unconfident then he would eventually lay down and accept he shouldn't be loved ever again.

I don't think confidence doesn't play into this at all though, it definitely has some impact on Nico, he does view himself as inherently less (he is overly self sacrificial- think Tartarus :/), and he does try to remove himself from others:

You yourself said: you blame yourself for the way people have hurt you, taken advantage of you, and abandoned you. they exploit your love and your naïveté time and time again. you tell yourself, surely, there must be something wrong with you. because—you are convinced—that people are good. “if they hurt me, it is because i am flawed. it is because i am weak. people will always hurt me—even people i love. it’s an inevitable truth for me.” (X)

And this connects to what I said: "The thing about being rejected is that the first time you argue it's the other person. And the second time you'll argue it's still them. If you're still arguing it's other people the third time, maybe but it's thin ice... But eventually you just have to accept that you're at fault."

I do think there's a reason Nico makes himself so "utilitarian", because he hasn't been handed unconditional love since Bianca. But again we disagree on the why, I see Nico's behavior in his utilitarian example of love as caring, the way more people should be in love. Too many people see love as something given without restraint, and yeah, love should be unconditional but in order for love to be unconditional you have to do the work to lay good foundation. To be utilitarian in loving is not an act of weakness, or a symbol of lack of confidence, it is a showcase of more care in love than most have to offer. We care for things, and place value on them determined by how much love and care goes into those things.

I also don't see Nico's self blaming for what happened as flawed, it's logical in his situation, and a common result of CEN. This self blame shows care and kindness, and this coincides with Nico's arcs, "If I am bad, how do I improve? If I have no choice but to be evil, how do I still be good?". Nico is always fighting not to be recognized for good or bad, but to be recognized for what he is.

Trust is not naivety either, the only reason Nico is regarded as naïve is because of the extreme circumstances of his life. People shouldn't have to expect abuse from people who are supposed to love them, people should have to accept abuse in order to receive love. If Nico's life had turned out different, his naivety wouldn't be viewed as a weakness but a strength- a kindness.

We're not actually viewing Nico all that different, there's this space where his character blurs together, and it becomes an individual duty to determine at what point a flaw becomes a strength, and a strength a flaw. Nico's stubbornness is a flaw if we're thinking about grudges, but it's a strength in his work ethic. Nico's ability to stand on his own is a strength in terms of questing, but it's a flaw when it prevents him from experiencing love in fullness.

[dashedwithromance]

Secret Moments In A Crowded Room - Princewitch

okay so DISCLAIMER im scared to post this because we’ve never really seen romantic wrath before so idk if people might think this is OOC but i wanted princewitch fluff desperately and cant wait til october. inspired by the teaser quote she released yesterday and ‘dress’ by taylor swift

-

The ball raged on around her, dancers swirling around impossibly fast, flashes of fabric catching the light of the serpent scones. On and on, all without her. Her husband sat to her right on his larger throne, staring into nothing. They had exchanged all of five words that evening.

She did not blame her husband for his coldness, not truly. If their positions were switched, and she had been forced to marry a random demon while still loving and grieving her murdered spouse, she doubted whether she would even manage civility. Pride continued his business, barely taking notice of his young wife, and she was glad, of that, at least. If he’d wanted her... a shudder snaked down her spine, curling in her gut. Her mind still echoed with the unnatural violation of Lust’s magic, and the thought of another demon prince perusing her like that was foul. There was only one prince she wanted, and his sin was wrath.

Dancing in Hell was nothing like she’d seen on the streets of Palermo. Nothing like the carefree dancing of Vittoria, so full of light and life and love that nothing seemed to touch her. Here, movements entwined with danger, every dance a flirtation with living death. People danced with weapons, exchanging daggers and rondels and rapiers like secret lovers. Jewelled garrottes hung around every neck, poisonous pearls glittering in various ornate hairstyles. An unholy masquerade indeed.

Her own mask was a fine decoration of gold and jewels. Metallic serpents entwined across the mosaic-like surface, darker cracks embedded across it. The mask had arrived one evening at her rooms, wrapped in luscious velvet. No letter accompanied it, the only sign of the sender being a golden snake that slithered up her arm before dissolving into sparks. The decoration matched her dress, a similar mosaic of black silk, lace, and golden serpents. Truly befitting a queen.

Fury burned through her as she watched the revellers pass her by. They danced without a care, members of the seven houses intermingling freely. She wanted to scream and shatter the very throne she sat on. How dare they dance as if mere months ago, one of their own had not been taking the hearts of witches? As if she did not sit on a dead witch’s throne? A witch who still had not found justice, who’s body had been ripped to shreds in the cruellest way imaginable?

“Careful, little queen.” Pride’s voice rumbled in her ear. He still did not look at her, but leaned closer to whisper, “Lest the people learn your ungrateful thoughts.”

Closing her eyes to avoid murdering the demon she’d married, she took a deep breath. The air smelt like fire and spirits and the sweat of colliding bodies. Suddenly, the sight of it all disgusted her. The dancing, the drinking, the living, all of it. Selfish, she knew – others were allowed to live despite Vittoria being denied the very same. But she couldn’t help it. She longed for nothing more than her sister to live, even if it meant sacrificing her life to the demon beside her. There was nothing to be done, however. Her sister was lost forever.

The night dwindled on, interrupted by the occasional violent thought towards her situation. Though, as contrary as it sounded, not all was dark about her time in Hell. She had one bright spot, one flame in the dark. Something she kept locked against her chest for fear of discovery.

Casting her eye across the room, she caught the gaze of the hidden secret. Prince Wrath leaned against the wall from across the room, his eyes flickering as they locked with hers. He was dressed in a sinfully beautiful suit, a pattern of golden serpents slithering up the fabric from the floor. The snakes seemed alive in the firelight. Perhaps they were. A smug sense of satisfaction ebbed through her when she realised they matched. No one else would notice – serpents weren’t exactly an uncommon motif in Hell – but they knew, and it was comfort enough. With a movement, so small she nearly missed it, he tilted his head towards the exit.

A thrill raced through her, paired with genuine, loving excitement. They had not been alone in much too long.

Things had not always been so relaxed between her and the prince of Wrath. Her first few weeks in Hell had been spent furiously glaring in his direction. He’d given her the ultimate cold shoulder until she’d nearly burned from it. She’d been full of fury at his leaving her – at the humiliation she felt from having the human audacity to trust a demon. One day, when they crossed each other in a hallway heading to court, her temper had bubbled to boiling.

She remembered yanking him into a nearby room – he let her, she realised now – and yelled at him for the cruelty of leaving her alone. Of giving her hope and wrenching it away, like a child suddenly filled with jealously over a shared toy.

The sheer incredulity on his face was the first indication she was mistaken. He laughed, a sardonic sound coated in disbelief.

“I left you?” His voice was low. The walls around them seemed to thrum in response to his deadly power.

“I left you?” He repeated, “I gave you all the tools to summon me, witch, and you refused. Too good for my help, perhaps.  I have no more responsibilities to you. Our deal is done.”

Wrath turned to leave, but by some miracle, she managed to dart in front of him. Her body was pressed against the door, the cold stone mixing with the heat she felt roaring off him. Emilia should’ve been afraid, should’ve been trembling in her gifted boots at the sight of him, but she wasn’t. Why, she couldn’t quite tell.

His gaze burned into hers, but her own was just as powerful.

“I tried everything to summon you after what Envy did, and you didn’t come.” She hissed. The wrath of a prince was one thing, but hell hath no fury like a witch scorned. “You left me. I was foolish enough to believe you would ca- that you would come for me once, but I will not be fooled twice.”

The look he gave her was indiscernible. Equal parts rage mixed with... something lighter. If anyone else looked at her like that, she would’ve described it as hopeful. But demons did not hope, no more than they loved.

He was scanning her face with the focus of a battle-hardened warrior. Whatever it was he found made him take a step back.

“What did you do wrong?” He muttered, almost to himself.

“I did nothing wrong,” She couldn’t help but fire back, “I did everything correctly – even used the ring you left for me in the drawer.”

At that, he stilled. Stilled and stopped breathing entirely.

Then, as if talking to someone who’d sustained a head injury, he said, “I didn’t leave you a ring. I left you my house seal, solid gold, of course, but no ring.” He went on to describe where he’d left it – the top drawer beside her bed – but she already knew.

The conclusion settled in her stomach like a stone. Another feeling, one she didn’t let herself scrutinise, unfurled within her.

“Someone didn’t want me to summon you.”

“Close. Someone wanted you to think I wouldn’t come.”

A question hung in the air, so loud neither could bring themselves to give it voice.

Would you have come, Prince Wrath? Would you have come to my aid when I needed you most? When I needed to know you were alright?

Keeping those treacherous thoughts under lock and key, she focused on another facet of the curious mystery.

“Who would it benefit? And who would’ve known what to switch – the house was warded, was it not?”

Silence from her princely counterpart.  

“Would the wards collapse with your ‘death’?”

The look on his face told her all she needed to know. Someone had stolen into the house and replaced the seal with a ring to deliberately throw off their efforts. Which meant-

He hadn’t abandoned her at all. Given her the cold shoulder, yes, when he believed she’d forgotten all about him.

What a hellish mess this all was.

From that moment on, the demon and the witch had become begrudging allies once more. Wrath had been furious one of his brothers would dare interfere with his affairs, and she needed an ally, desperately. While it rubbed against her pride to accept help, she knew it would’ve been foolish to refuse. She would be a vengeful queen, but even queens needed council.

Their alliance had turned to friendship, then burst into royal flames as they look the leap to lovers. In the candlelight of a stolen moment, Wrath had held her with more care than she’d known possible. Still Wrath, still echoing that immense power of his, but softer, somehow. Not gentle, not truly, but tender. It was not love, but it was fire and anger and care all pieced together in a ball of desire.  

Which led her to that moment, as she stole away from her husband’s masquerade ball. She had stayed long enough, and the party celebrated nothing of importance. Rather a show of unity between her and Pride, a display of wealth and power.

As she left the throne room she realised she had no idea where her prince had gone. Back to his rooms? No, they avoided meeting there. Being caught together in casual rooms could be explained away as strategic briefings, but being caught in the bedroom of her husband’s brother... did not leave for much escape room.

Just as she was about to curse his name, a snake slithered around her ankle, causing her to start. Was that Wrath’s laugh, she heard? Looking to her feet, the snake stared back up at her, its golden eyes winking in the candlelight of the hallway.

Of course. Wrath and his dramatics.  

The snake made its way down the hallway, keeping close to the wall to be inconspicuous. It led her to an offshoot of the main hallway, then came to a halt at the final door. The serpent dissolved into golden sparks as they reached their destination. She knocked quietly before letting herself in.

Wrath lay stretched out across a dark velvet lounge, watching her entrance. His mask dangled lazily from his fingers, the ribbon used to tie it brushing across the floor. His shirt was unbuttoned halfway, a toned chest peeking out from the fabric.

Deadly, dangerously beautiful.

And hers.

“You look exquisite,” He strode across the room before taking her in his arms. His hands quickly untied her mask before tossing it to the floor with haste. He took in her form for a moment, then tilted his face down to capture her lips with his own.

No matter how many moments they stole, it was never enough.

His kiss was liquid fire igniting the flame of her desire. One hand rested against her back, with the other cupping her face. She gasped against his mouth, revelling in how desperately hard his body felt against hers. Greedy hands slipped up his chest to unbutton the rest of his shirt. Pulling the material away, Emilia broke the kiss for a single second to gaze at her lover.

Smooth, tanned skin met her eyes, followed by a swift appreciation of the hard strength that lay beneath his trousers. He laughed as he caught her gaze, knowing exactly what she was admiring.

He kissed her again, this time grabbing the backs of her thighs and lifting her up. Her legs wrapped around his waist. The taste of him- Taste was her speciality, but there were no words to describe how perfectly Wrath kissed her.

After too long and never long enough, the lovers parted for breath. He still held her against his chest. In this position, she was the perfect height to rest her head in the crook of his neck. Their breathing echoed through the room in perfect harmony.

She could feel every rise and fall of his powerful, tattooed chest. Such lethal power contained within his body, yet he held her with all the tenderness the world could offer.

“You know,” He mused, “We never got to dance.”

“Are you asking?” A sly smile in his direction.

“Yes. Witch, will you dance with me.” He said witch the way men said love. She looked down at him, grinning.

“No. I can’t dance.”

He laughed. Such a bright sound for one bathed in darkness.

“Liar.”

“Fine. I don’t dance, because I’m awful at it.”

A teasing hand ran down her back.

“I’ll teach you.” At her raised brows, he continued with, “A queen must use every skill in her arsenal.”

Lowering her to the ground, he held out his hands for her to grasp.

“Place your right hand in mine, and left against my shoulder.” Even through the fabric of his shirt, she could feel the heat roaring off him. When she did as he instructed, he pulled their bodies together until not even an inch separated them. Emilia was fairly certain this wasn’t part of the dance, but she wasn’t going to interrupt. She quite liked this position, pressed against the prince of Wrath, his breath rustling her hair. His hand settled against her spine.

“This next bit is the most important, do you hear? It is crucial even that beginners like yourself get this right.” He teased, and she scowled back at him, though they both knew it was merely in jest.

“Tilt your chin up so you can gaze adoringly into my eyes.” He grinned down her scowl. “I want you to focus on how handsome I am, how talented, and forget everything else. Except how much you want to kiss me.”

She couldn’t help herself, she laughed. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Perhaps.” His voice turned low and seductive as his hand slid down her spine, drawing her a little closer. “But you’re waltzing like a goddess now.” As he spoke, they started to move. Slowly, he stepped back and followed. To the side, and she followed again. On and on, their little box pattern continued, until Wrath picked up the paced and spun her around.

A gasp left her lips at the movement, but before she could overthink and stumble, he caught her once more with a smile.

“Who are you, and what have you done with the moodiest prince of Hell?”

He shook his head at her words, huffing a laugh as he did. She felt the truth bloom in his chest, he didn’t have to say it. These borrowed moments, these secret trysts... it was happiness, rare as it was, that fluttered between them. They both knew it couldn’t last, but for now, it was real. In that moment, it was all that mattered.

“Teasing witch,” He murmured, and kissed her. Kissed her as if they were not members of two rival houses, as if she was not an unwilling wife to his bastardly brother, as if there were not a chasm of reasons to keep them apart. Tomorrow would bring hellfire, and perhaps regret, but tonight was theirs.

They kissed until night dwindled away into day, and their secret was no longer safe. With the promise of “soon” and an unspoken “I miss you”, Wrath kissed her once more before exiting her side.

The queen of Hell picked up her mask from where it had been tossed across the floor, and stood still for a moment, taking a deep breath. The moment had passed, and she was no longer just Emilia, a powerhouse in her own right, and friend and lover of Wrath’s.

She was the Wicked Kingdom’s vengeful queen, and she would find her happiness once more, or burn the world trying.

-

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[robininthelabyrinth]

So if you want can you write a continuation of that AU where NHS dies and NMJ loses it? Anything concerning that AU Bc on one hand I’m curious af about what would happen when NHS is brought back and how everyone is so happy that he’s back bc know NMJ would maybe calm down a little but on the other I really want to know LXC thoughts about this whole disaster?

part 1 here

Lan Xichen waited outside the Cloud Recesses, Shuoyue placed on his lap.

His home was in an uproar: the stories of what had happened in Lanling had come first, chilling the bone, and while they were still trying to decide if they believed it, news came that the Nie army, now swollen with cultivators desperate to use martial valor to escape destruction, was headed in the direction of Gusu. Lan Xichen had asked his uncle and brother to arrange the evacuation of both people and books, as many as possible – they at least had some practice after what had happened with the Wen sect, and sadly, for all of Lan Wangji’s strenuous effort, there were also fewer books to think of.

As for himself, he went to the small clearing down the mountain where visitors always arrived, especially those from Qinghe, and there he sat and waited.

Lan Xichen’s cultivation was extremely high; he did not flatter himself in thinking that in the cultivation world, the number of people who could rival him could be counted on one hand.

Nie Mingjue was the same.

If Nie Mingjue came – no. Lan Xichen should not cloud his mind with illusions. The Nie sect’s army was on its way; the question was not if Nie Mingjue was coming, it was when – and what would happen once he arrived.

If they would fight, and if they did, who would win, and what would happen next.

Lan Xichen still found the entire thing hard to believe. That Nie Mingjue would do such a terrible thing, that he would kill so many people without warning or declaration, without giving them a fair chance to fight back…it went against everything he knew of the man.

Nie Mingjue was not only his sworn brother, but his friend of many years – for the entire time he had known him, Nie Mingjue had always been well-meaning and well-intentioned, upright and righteous, even sometimes too strict with it, unwilling to give allowances for weakness. He’d always wanted to do the right thing. Even when they’d met as children, brought along to observe the sect leaders’ talks during the Discussion Conferences and bonding over the boredom of it, he had always thought first of what he should do, of what was right. Both for himself, and for his younger brother.

They’d bonded over that, too: Lan Xichen had Wangji, and Nie Mingjue had Huaisang.

He didn’t have Huaisang any longer.

That didn’t seem real, either.

Little Huaisang, with his fans and his laziness, his curving eyes as he smiled and the coquettish way he whined about the burden of having to practice his saber – gone, now. Gone forever.

Lan Xichen might have understood it if he’d died during the war. But to have it happen now, now, when they were meant to be at peace…

He still had the first letter he’d received informing him of the tragedy. It was in Jin Guangyao’s handwriting, each line thick with devastation: an accident, he’d said. Nie Huaisang had gotten lost on a night-hunt, ended up somewhere dangerous, an area that unexpectedly contained fearsome creatures that no one had expected to be there, and with his low cultivation…Jin Guangyao had blamed himself for not keeping a closer watch on him, for having allowed him to come along, for all of it, even though it seemed quite clear from the letter that he could not truly be held accountable.

You must tell me how I can break this news to da-ge, Jin Guangyao had written. You do not know how it pains me to think of what this will do to him. He will blame me, as I blame myself – I would not mind it even if he beat me; it would help assuage the pain I feel at what has come to pass on my watch. But you know that da-ge has always been suspicious of me beyond all reason, and there are those who ascribe malice to all of my actions: how can I convince him that this result was not something I desired?

Lan Xichen’s first instinct had been to volunteer to break the news to Nie Mingjue himself. It would be painful, seeing his friend’s heart break – he’d seen so many hearts break during the war, his own not least of all at hearing of his father’s death; there were widows and widowers, children losing their parents before their time and white-haired parents burying their black-haired children, brothers and sisters all…this would have been the worst of the lot. But surely it would be better coming from him than any other?

Surely he would be able to calm Nie Mingjue and offer comfort to his grief; yes, better it be him than yet another pointless fight between his two sworn brothers.

There was a draft letter on his desk, half-written, that told Jin Guangyao to wait for him, that he would come, that he would stand by his side so that he wouldn’t have to explain it alone –

He’d never had a chance to finish it.

Who knew how he’d found out, but Nie Mingjue had come to Lanling to collect his brother’s body the very next day. He hadn’t said anything, ignoring greetings and condolences alike, disregarding all offers for him to rest or eat something to recover his strength; he merely picked up Nie Huaisang’s corpse from the coffin it had been tentatively laid to rest in and walked right back out again.

One report claimed that he hadn’t said a word the whole time.

Perhaps there had been another letter, half-written just like his own, on Jin Guangyao’s desk: laying out his worry at Nie Mingjue’s unusual silence, expressing concern for Nie Mingjue’s health – especially given his temperament, which had lately been worsening – and asking for advice…

Lan Xichen would never know, now. Jin Guangyao’s desk at Lanling was very likely ashes, along with any letter that it might have contained – Jin Guangyao himself, too, was likely…

There was a disturbance in the air, and Lan Xichen raised his head.

A single figure approached, the familiar shape unmistakable.

Alone.

Lan Xichen’s fingers tightened for a moment, and then released.

Lan Xichen waited until Nie Mingjue had jumped down from his saber, Baxia obediently returning to his back – his back, not his hand, which he supposed was a good sign, just as coming without his army was a good sign. It meant that there was still room to talk.

Nie Mingjue didn’t do anything after that, though: he did not greet Lan Xichen at all, a minor breach of etiquette that Lan Xichen would have been amused by if he hadn’t heard of far worse breaches by Nie Mingjue lately, not merely of etiquette but even of basic morality, of righteousness itself, of the laws of war that Nie Mingjue had once valued so highly…

Eventually, the silence became too much, and so Lan Xichen spoke first. “You took longer to come here than I expected.”

The stories said that anyone who could have had anything to do with Nie Huaisang’s death was being hunted – anyone who benefited, anyone who stood by and did nothing, anyone related in any way at all. Most certainly anyone who was involved in setting it up.

By that standard, Nie Mingjue should have come here much faster.

After all, it had been Lan Xichen who had urged Nie Huaisang to visit Lanling, knowing that Jin Guangyao wanted to see him, knowing, too, that his sworn brother hoped to use his kindness towards the little brother as a means of appeasing the elder; it was he who had convinced Nie Mingjue to allow the visit, he who paved the path that had led to Nie Huaisang’s dead end –

If Nie Huaisang had truly been murdered, and Jin Guangyao in fact the culprit, the way the stories said – the stories that must be wrong – then the very next one to blame would be Lan Xichen himself.

“We were friends,” Nie Mingjue said, and Lan Xichen winced involuntarily at the inclusion of the word that meant that it was something that had been in the past, and was no longer.

Nie Mingjue wasn’t angry in the way Lan Xichen would have found familiar: rage that consumed him, yelling and harsh gestures, even breaking things around him. His voice was heavy as stone and just as indifferent, and looking into his eyes – if Lan Xichen couldn’t sense his friend’s overwhelming yang energy, same as it ever was, he might have thought that it was Nie Mingjue who had died instead of Nie Huaisang.

“How sure are you?” Lan Xichen asked, rather than deal with that – with what that meant. With the suggestion that Nie Mingjue would have preferred to spare him, for their past friendship, but that in the end he had decided that he couldn’t.

With the suggestion that it was, in fact, still Nie Mingjue underneath there: the old familiar one, who argued long and loud that principle should be the most important thing – more than friendship, more than mercy, more than anything, except maybe the overriding principles of filial duty and familial responsibility.

It wasn’t some demon who had grown out of a broken heart, some possession or afflicted temperament; it wasn’t even a qi deviation that twisted a good man’s character into something else.

It was Nie Mingjue, who had once been his friend.

“How sure are you that it was him that caused it?” he asked again. It was pointless to argue in Jin Guangyao’s defense one final time, futile, his friend was dead, as dead as Nie Huaisang was, but perhaps it could help him rescue this friend from his madness – or rescue Lan Xichen and his sect from the man’s blade. Nie Mingjue’s paranoia had been worsening recently, along with his temperament, but Lan Xichen had never dreamed it would end up like this. “That it was – that it was intentional, malicious? They say you never asked for an explanation, so how can you be certain that –”

“I am sure,” Nie Mingjue said. “There can be no doubt. Men lie. Sabers don’t.”

Lan Xichen frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“Huaisang had his saber with him when died,” Nie Mingjue said - explaining, patient, the way he was in the best of times. He didn’t seem like the insane killer that had destroyed an entire sect, and it certainly didn’t seem as though he were about to try to stab him with Baxia.

Lan Xichen might have preferred that. He didn’t know what to do with a Nie Mingjue as indifferent as the dead.

“I told you long ago that the Nie sect buries sabers, not people, and I told you why,” Nie Mingjue continued. “I told you about the saber spirits, how they long to destroy evil…Huaisang was a terrible cultivator, but he’s still a Nie, he still has a golden core, and his saber has a spirit, however weak, that is capable of desiring vengeance. Why would I bother asking a nest of snakes to lie to me? His saber knew what his final moments were like.”

Lan Xichen shuddered, realizing what that meant. “You – saw them?”

“I did.”

“You saw Huaisang die,” Lan Xichen repeated, the horror of it afresh: bad enough that Nie Mingjue’s brother had died – the thought of losing Lan Wangji causing an automatic burst of empathetic pain – but to think that Nie Mingjue had watched, had seen it the way he’d seen his father’s final moments…no wonder the man had lost his mind and morals. “And…A-Yao…you saw him…?”

“We three swore an oath not to betray each other, or to give aid to anyone who did,” Nie Mingjue said. “All of us, the three of us – do you remember? Whoever did so would face a thousand accusing fingers, be torn from limb to limb…do you remember?”

“I remember,” Lan Xichen said.

“I am here,” Nie Mingjue said, and his tone was still indifferent, still like stone, “in fulfillment of that oath.”

Lan Xichen’s fingers tightened around Shuoyue. “You blame me.”

Nie Mingjue did not respond, but then, he didn’t need to. It was Lan Xichen who insisted, time and time again, that Jin Guangyao be trusted – it was he who had arranged the entire outing. It had been his idea…at Jin Guangyao’s suggestion, yes, but he had accepted the idea and presented it as his own.

He had done it because he’d known Nie Mingjue would have refused if it had come from Jin Guangyao directly.

Jin Guangyao had known that, too. Had he – on purpose –

No. Surely not. The A-Yao he’d known would never have done that.

But – this wasn’t merely paranoia or dislike, the way he thought it would be based on Jin Guangyao’s fears in his letter. No: Nie Mingjue claimed to have seen it. And whatever he had seen, it had given him the certainty he required to take his saber to the entire Jin sect, man and woman alike, in a night attack of the sort he’d refused to wage even against the Wens, who he hated. A vicious attack, like a dog that had lost all reason.

Lan Xichen didn’t know what to believe.

“I understand your grief,” Lan Xichen said, and he did. If it had been Wangji… “Did you have to kill them all?”

“Kill the chicken to warn the monkey,” Nie Mingjue said simply. “No sect will ever style themselves as the inheritor of the Wens, whether in power or in willingness to – to sacrifice those they see as unnecessary, as a matter of politics.”

“And my sect? Let us say that I would acknowledge my guilt, and set down my sword – must they share my fate?”

“If I had not trusted in the reputation of the Lan sect, would I have believed you and let my enemy through the gates? Would Huaisang be dead now, if not for the renowned truthfulness of the Lan sect?”

Lan Xichen closed his eyes. “If you will not spare my sect, I cannot set down my sword.”

“I’m sorry, Xichen. You had to learn one day that there are things for which an apology is not enough.”

Nie Mingjue genuinely looked saddened by it all; that was the worst of it. It would hurt him to fight Lan Xichen, to kill him; it would stain his soul to kill his sect, who he’d loved almost like a second home.

Still, it was not a surprise. Lan Xichen knew his friend too well: from the moment Nie Mingjue had decided to cast off his righteousness, to lift his saber in revenge, he would never have spared himself the consequences of that decision – that one of the men he’d have to kill would be his own friend, that he would be the one who burned down the Cloud Recesses this time.

The massacre at the Jin sect was an atrocity, but one that could be understood. The rest of it…even Nie Mingjue would never forgive himself for what he was about to do here. He would do it regardless, because he believed it had to be done, and when the work was done, Nie Huaisang avenged in a world filled with blood, Baxia’s last victim would very likely be Nie Mingjue himself.

Lan Xichen didn’t want to see that.

He didn’t know how to stop it, either.

He exhaled, hard, and stood up, unsheathing Shuoyue. “Then we fight.”

“Yes,” Nie Mingjue said, and Baxia came to his hand; the steel seemed to glow red as if anticipating the blood it would soon draw. Baxia only did that in the presence of evil – it seemed Nie Mingjue’s saber agreed with the man’s assessment of the situation; Lan Xichen had been judged guilty, and sentenced accordingly. “We fight.”

part 3 here

[foulserpent]

ned has the most fleshed out history of any of my OCs. i typed it out over the past couple of days, theres some stufff missing but its over 2000 words as is.

here is neds life story prior to the oblviion crisis

ned was born in a village near falinesti’s summer rooting site. his father died before ned was born, and ned was raised by his mother and various farmhands in the community.

his mother was a farmer (though she had a shady past he was always peripherally aware of but never privy to), and they raised hogs and chickens for milk/meat/eggs and would be part of falenesti’s supply chain every year. niviiran also lived nearby, and the two were close friends throughout their childhood and adolescence.

“nasty ned” was in fact his birth name and a name he continued to use, though going by the latter part. he was never able to find out why his mother named him that. the name came in handy, given that ned is transgender and already had a fairly “masculine” name. he was recognized as a boy since he was around 10, but his mother was unable to afford the hormone replacement potions until his later teens.

when ned was 16, he started taking jobs at falenesti, mostly as a bouncer at its taverns. he had been a bit of a nervous child before that and to this day isnt sure why he chose that line of work, but it toughened him up considerably.

when he was about 20, his friend niviiran was being heavily pressured into marrying off to secure her family’s inherited silk business. niviiran saw this as the only chance to escape her emotionally abusive parents, and proposed the notion of entering into a (false) marriage with ned until she could get away. he agreed, both desiring to help his friend and hoping to benefit from niviiran’s far wealthier parents.

during this time, he had his first Actual intimate relationship, but it only lasted about a week. he had picked up a girlfriend at his job, but being emotionally immature and a bit of a dick, he thought that he did not need to inform her that he was TECHNICALLY married, since the marriage was fake and him and niv both did not mind. she left when he found out.

this marriage fell apart within a year, largely as a result of ned panicking and letting it slip while drunk at a gathering with niv’s family. this caused a huge commotion mostly directed at him (and was worsened by his continued panicking), and culminated in niviiran’s brother beating him and attempting to run him over with a horse as he fled. his leg was badly crushed and was saved by his mother.

though their marriage was fake, niviiran and ned had a real falling out as a result of this. both obviously felt bad for the harm to the other, but niv was very angry at ned for having let it slip and putting her in the position of having to run away from her controlling parents rather than leave freely. ned at the time was surprised and hurt that she was so mad, having taken her friendship for granted, and responded in kind. they separated angrily and did not see each other again after that point, and the way he treated niv is one of his first and biggest regrets.

after his leg was mostly healed, he decided he wanted to leave valenwood, at least for a while. he had developed some skill as a bodyguard, and managed to get himself hired to guard a merchant caravan that looped through valenwood, elsweyr, and cyrodiil. this was the time where he really came into his own in mercenary type fields, learning to use swords/shields/armor and how to hold his own against much larger foes. he also learned how to cook at this time, and had his first boyfriend. this relationship was not serious and did not last past ned’s contract with the caravan, but was significant and fondly remembered.

he chose not to continue as a caravan guard, and became interested in mercenary work instead. he joined up with cyrodiil’s fighters guild, and spent the next decade or so working for them. late in this period, he was subcontracted out to mainland morrowind on a longterm job as a hired guard. during this time, he met and began a relationship with yaksha gra-dralas, a morag tong agent. their relationship lasted about three years until ned’s contract ended. it was somewhat serious, but neither felt it was working out well enough to continue (and neds ass was too small). they went their separate ways, and ned returned to cyrodiil.

ned continued working for the fighters guild for an indeterminite amount of years, culminating in the events of oblivions fighters guild questline occurring. when ned was demoted for the death of the guildmaster’s son that he had nothing to do with, he decided that the guild was going to shit and that he was leaving. he resigned, and spent a few years hiring himself out independently as a mercenary or whatever else was paying.

eternally bad at settling, he became unsatisfied and decided to move again. he moved to vvardenfell, where he would live for the next 30 years or so. during this time, he joined their chapter of the fighters guild, took many odd jobs, and became more radicalized against the empire than he had already been (which was a lot).

notably, in the latter half of his time there, he met the disowned son of a hlaalu nobleman named ondryn. he and ondryn were assigned together on a longterm fighters guild job out in the wilderness, and began a relationship that would last a decade. it was ned’s longest relationship, and also the first one that he seriously considered the possibility of being permanent and settling with. he had loved all his partners before this, but ondryn was very special to him and brought out something much more serious in him.

it was this relationship that would also lead to ned’s involvement with daedric cults. ondryn was dissident against the tribunal and a follower of azura, boethiah, and mephala. this was just casual everyday worship, but the two joined an active sect of boethiah worshippers (at least partially trying to impress each other). ned had never been religiously motivated and believed that gods were not owed worship any more than anyone else, but was drawn to the “good daedra” for their seemingly mutually beneficial relationship with mortals.

ned was never the most devoted of boethiah’s sect, but through skill and luck he continuously proved himself worthy, and eventually was challenged to and won a tournament of 10 bloods. he was granted a title as champion of boethiah, and bestowed with the artifact goldbrand.

for a while, he proved himself worthy by continuing to maintain his position and defeat any challenger who came his way. but at one point, he was successfully kidnapped along with a fellow boethiah worshipper to be sacrificed to molag bal. he managed to free himself of his binds and escape, and came back with reinforcements to slaughter the rest of molag bal’s faithful, but it was too late for his friend.

this was the first decidedly traumatic incident of his life, and marked the beginning of a slow downturn of his life and his mental health. he was wracked with guilt at having left his friend to die, and was beginning to realize he wasnt really cut out for the whole champion of boethiah thing, rightfully fearing that he had lost favor for this weakness. in a stupid move (that would turn out smart in the long run in bargaining for his soul back), he kept goldbrand but fled with ondryn from the cult, ghosting boethiah and just hoping it wouldnt come back to bite him.

the blight was also worsening in vvardenfell at this point, with things beginning to get pretty scary. ned had repeatedly expressed desire for him and ondryn to flee vvardenfell, but the latter saw all this as just another crisis that would pass with time, and ned accepted this. around the time of the beginning of morrowind’s events, ondryn fell sick after an encounter with one of the ash creatures from red mountain. when it became obvious and undeniable that it was corprus, ondryn resigned himself to dying and asked of ned to help him be properly cremated and interred in his family tomb. all of ondryn’s living relatives had disowned him, but he still desired to be buried in his rightful place.

agreeing to this was the hardest thing ned had ever done. ondryn said goodbye and took poison, and ned was left alone to burn and lay his body to rest. he almost couldnt bring himself to do it, but eventually succeeded. after it was done, ned remained in the tomb for a few days, catatonic and just waiting to see if he would show symptoms himself. when it became clear that he had not contracted corprus, he considered suicide but became disgusted with himself and decided against it.

he remained in vvardenfell for a short while after this, but when his beloved guar (“jelly”) passed away of old age (mercifully peacefully), he decided enough was enough, and returned to cyrodiil. he had a couple of brief encounters with a person who he would later learn was the nerevarine, and left only weeks before the defeat of dagoth ur.

upon returning to cyrodiil, he was in a rut. he had become near-broke, had newly acquired mental health issues, had a constant fear of boethiah sending prospective champions after him, and had nothing to do with himself. he settled into the imperial city waterfront as a squatter, and attempted to join the thieves guild, but failed the initiation. desperate, he began thieving on his own, sometimes doing jobs for others and sometimes just to have money to get by.

he took a very large risk in agreeing to steal and imperial watch captain’s heirloom sword, and was captured in the act. he resisted arrest and injured the captain, and the captain personally intervened to get him a much steeper sentence than he otherwise would have. he was put into the imperial city prison for a few weeks, before being transferred to the arena and being put to work as a gladiator.

this was essentially a death sentence, with no determined ending besides dying in the arena. he met shap-mota here, a bard who had been blamed for a string of brutal assaults in spite of being pretty unquestionably Not the culprit. the two of them had an intimate relationship throughout this time, and struck up a friendship, but they were under a painful and unusual situation and it could not really be called a romantic relationship.

for a time, ned was managing well. he managed to get some serious dirt on one of the guard captains and effectively blackmail him. he wasnt able to secure his freedom, but was able to force his hand into giving him his sword (goldbrand) back and giving him and shap a bit more leeway as prisoners. having goldbrand is likely the only reason he survived and won all his death matches, but his uncooperativeness and humiliation of a few of the guards gave them a massive grudge.

after about 5 months, shap narrowly won a match, but had been gravely injured in the process and collapsed. ned last saw him being dragged out from the arena, and never saw anything that would indicate shap being alive, and had to assume he died. things got really bad after that, with ned having no buffer against the ire of the guards and other prisoners. he lost his blackmailing opportunity (though was allowed to keep goldbrand, due to the crowd loving his signature flaming sword) and was given absolutely terrible treatment from his captors.

he became incredibly disgusted with being forced to kill other prisoners and enraged at challengers who fought willingly. as he rose in the ranks, he was kept going by not knowing what else to do and by a grim satisfaction at murdering people who willingly chose to be combatants. this was very traumatizing.

ned achieved champion rank, though he almost lost his final match. his opponent disarmed him and instead of killing him, gloated and slashed at him with goldbrand, ripping his abdomen open and giving him his biggest scars. ned managed to take him by surprise and kill his opponent before passing out from shock and blood loss.

he woke up a day later to find he had been released. evidently, no one expected him to live that long and it was decided he might as well be let go. ned already had trauma to deal with, but was suddenly experiencing very unusual and new symptoms (which was ptsd and an anxiety disorder) that he had no idea what to do with. he was also convinced that his challenger was there on boethiah’s behalf, though he cant be sure of that, and the fear of being killed and left to the daedra who probably owned his soul took hold of him again.

he had been given some prize money, and he collected himself and left. he moved into kvatch, and rented an attic from some dunmer in exchange for proofreading his stupid “opus” about him killing all the cliff racers or whatever.

ned spent a few years in a haze, kind of just drifting through life, getting into shit here and there. there was an “incident” involving the towns blacksmith at the general store, and he was not arrested but was considered to owe a favor to the town’s watch captain due to the chaotic results that few dare to speak of.

this favor was finally cashed in when kvatch was burnt down by mehrune’s dagons invasion force and they needed someone to try and close the gate, and lo and behold here comes ned “owes a favor” nasty and some argonian from out of town who just kind of wandered in.

[tosikoarts]

SFW Alphabet | Koito Otonoshin

WAP reference? In my SFW alphabet? More likely than you think. You can check tosikowrites tag for more. Warning: there’s a lot under the cut.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

First of all, everybody in the radius of two kilometers knows that Koito has fallen in love. He isn’t loud about it but it is written all over his smug face 24/7: when he starts daydreaming about them (which he does a lot), faint blush covers swarthy cheeks and his eyes fixate at the farthest point on the horizon. Tsukishima has to call three times before the Second Lieutenant finally notices his presence.

Okay, maybe, he is a little louder than was previously stated. Koito hasn’t had a lot of love experience so for him it is a bumpy road of trials and errors. Considering his behavior in front of First Lieutenant Tsurumi, easy to imagine how he awkwardly stutters in the crush’s presence, switching between native Satsuma dialect and classical Japanese. As they grow closer, nervousness dies down, and Koito finally talks like normal people do! Oh, he is such a show-off. However, he is a sweetheart as well so his talk comes across as a nice kid trying to be overly cool. Makes tons of compliments but can’t take any himself. No, he does. No, he doesn’t. Koito is a mess that thinks about small compliments for weeks. You say he looks nice with hair parted down the middle and this young man never goes back to his previous haircut.

It is serious when Koito starts rapturously venting to Tsukishima about them. At first, Otonoshin starts asking subtle questions not to seem too inexperienced. Then he asks for advice on how to dress, what to give as a present, how to act in general. If there are any problems in the relationship, Koito will 100% craw to his Sergeant for help.

One of the first and generally the main way of affection for Koito is giving pricy presents. Even when he is trying not to flex on wealth, it comes across as disguised bragging. Gifts given are always unique and of quality, so there is no reason to be indignant.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

His best friend has to be either someone from childhood or the Imperial Japanese Army Academy. Koito won’t befriend anyone in the actual military (except one exhausted Sergeant) since he has a fear of becoming a career trampoline.

Koito squanders the money on entertainment with no remorse and no shame. If he gets a new Western-style suit, his best friend will receive one in the mail too. On nights out Koito generously pays for the food and drinks, saying that they will pay next time but the next time never actually comes. There is some money in his bank account, why not spend it?

His best friend automatically becomes a part of his family and friend of Tsukishima. Koito doesn’t ask, he confidently states it. If they for some reason do not want to be close with the listed contingent, Koito faces cognitive dissonance and, notwithstanding, tries to improve relations between them.

Koito is not a stranger to gossiping and petty drama. He doesn’t get involved ever since his family has a status to maintain, but he knows what skeletons are hidden in the neighbors’ bedroom closet. His best friend hears the phrase “You won’t believe what I know” more often than “First Lieutenant is so amazing”. By the way, yes, Koito is still that fangirl and they have to deal with it.

Eh, you can’t rely on him in troubles, though. He will unapologetically push the blame on another person to stay an innocent good boy that was accidentally dragged in the mess, but he will make amends after the noise dies down.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He is so touchy-touchy-lovey-dowey, oh my god, just like you would expect from a touched-starved young man. Koito has no problems with PDA, he enjoys gazes fixed on him, so it is not uncommon to see him with the partner on the lap. Tsukishima learned to turn a blind eye and do some extra work to give the Second Lieutenant more time with his loved one. Koito prefers spooning to any other position so he can press them against his chest and fall asleep in their warmth. Sweetheart cradle is the second-best option but, honestly, Koito is down to anything that includes any of his limbs resting on their body.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Too young (especially in the mental sphere) to think about settling down. He is 20 years old or something, right? Koito doesn’t even know what he wants, what his principles are, what his life guidelines are, so no, there’s no way he thinks about settling down any time soon. Perhaps in 3-5-10 years, after his father knocks some sense into the guy, Koito will come to the conclusion that it's time for a new chapter in his life but definitely not now. Oh, also, he is useless in the household. He can’t cook, he can’t clean (and he can’t tell how he got this ring).

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

That doesn’t go well at all. Pangs of conscience do not give him the chance to pretend and delay the moment for too long but Koito can’t just say “yeah, that’s it” and walk away as nothing happened either. He chooses the most feckless option – cruelly distancing himself and making them lose interest in the relationship. Once the decision is made, there’s no going back. Koito's interest in his military career rises significantly and, suddenly, he is always busy disciplining juniors, taking additional trips wherever First Lieutenant sends him, surprising everybody with an overwhelming passion for small arms… Yeah, I’d say that boy sus.

If the time spent apart doesn’t kill their fire, Koito will go full mean mode and start acting like a literal jerk. It’s small comments that hurt the most: he finds them too loud or too quiet, too touchy or too cold, yadda yadda. Unreasonable ostentatious attacks of jealousy? Hell yes. His goal is to get on their nerves even if it means still small voice will whisper what a terrible person he is. Regrets the childish behavior months later but won’t admit it no matter what. Fights the desire to crawl back to them for a year or so.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

It's too early to talk about it. Again, he is standing on the doorstep of real-life and significant changes like getting married and starting a family are not even close to his vision of the future. Koito hesitates much and overthinks more so there is no point in waiting for a proposal in the first two years of a relationship. There are vulnerable moments when he doubts his own suitability for marriage. They may lead either to deep conversations with psychological aspects (remember the gnawing feeling of being a family failure?) or to abrupt distancing but in both cases, Koito pulls himself together and remembers: if such an amazing person chose him among another than he must be special.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

One of the few soldiers who were left damaged but not broken, so gentleness does not just smolder, but burns in Koito's heart. When it comes to being gentle, he is a physical manifestation of fondness: it beams from his eyes, radiates from his touch, and hides in his choice of the words. Someone may find it inconsistent, but brutality outside the battlefield, in any type of relationship, seems unnecessary to him as well. In a physical sense, Koito is quite remarkable in his raring, so his actions can come off a little sloppy, rushed, and aggressive.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Exciting hugs! Koito trembles from the top of his head to the tips of the toes when he gets a chance to hug his loved one even if it is the tenth time this day. Most often, he starts with a fast welcome kiss on the cheek before pulling them into the tight embrace: it is heartwarming but never the same, which makes a person wanting to come back for another dose of unconditional love. Koito is down to hug at any time of the day, of the week, of the month and, honestly, he sees it as one of the most gentle and innocent expressions of affection.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Blurts it out by accident after half of a year of stale dating. The delightful feeling of sentiment overwhelmed him to the point of blinding adoration so Koito couldn’t stop himself from an unexpected confession. With head resting on his hands and cheek muscles twitching from the continuous wide silly smiling, Koito just blurted out what came to his mind at the moment, realizing what that was a few seconds later. To avoid embarrassment at all costs, he played dumb even though everything was written on his face in bright red color. Whatever. Conscious confession isn’t that easy. He is full of love but translating it in an understandable voiced statement is freaking work.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Whether he is a witness to his loved one being a flirt or his loved being hit on, Koito is l i v i d. In the first case scenario, his ego is hurt so badly, he storms from the room to avoid throwing a tantrum right there on the spot. Any attempts to speak with him after what happened result in loud indisputable “don’t touch me” and silent treatment for a good week or so. The mere thought of being replaceable terrifies poor Koito, it forces him into unhealthy coping like acting demonstratively independent and detached to show them he can do it solo. We’ll pretend it is not a desperate tactic to punish them, ok ok. When his love is being hit on, Koito does not even assess the situation. He rushes to the partner to save the day, steps between them and another person, laughs it off, and asks his rival if there’s any problem. Usually, confrontation is pretty effective against unwelcome suitors. Thank god, because Koito wouldn’t want to get physical anyway.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Awwww, have you ever imagined yourself as a teacher? Too bad because as much as passionate he is, Koito is hopeless. Literally. Lack of experience affects his (non-existing) technique. Couldn’t figure out he had to open his lips for a French kiss, leave alone any abstruse tricks, and knowledge of more sensitive spots to pay attention to. All preferences in the form of instructions have to be said aloud: Koito may act like he doesn’t need them, he is so cool and mature, and only losers need to be guided, but in reality, the opposite is true. Thanks to the above-mentioned features, his favorite kisses vary from pecks on the cheek to thigh and hand kisses but they never include kisses on the lips. If the partner is the same height or taller, he prefers to be kissed on the temple and top of his head. In other cases, doesn’t have any preferences.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

There are times when you have to do what you have absolutely no idea how to do, and it perfectly describes Koito’s relationships with kids. Somehow, they are on the same level but at different poles: he would rather cry because of how annoying capricious baby is than find any way to calm them down. Changing a dirty diaper is a challenge like no other, and going to the continent for a little girl protected by the company of bloodthirsty, armed to the teeth veterans sounds a lot easier (and not so disgusting) than babysitting a single baby. Older children are fine if they know how to keep themselves occupied and out of the sight. On his watch, there is always a small chance that the house will catch fire or the most active child will break their arm. Requires obligatory supervision of a more experienced babysitter.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

No one is leaving the bed in the morning. Sleeping in is inevitable. Do not plan anything for the first part of the day because if Koito chooses to devote the weekends to the lovely company of his partner that means he will squeeze every single second spent together out of it. It doesn’t matter what they do in the bed, like cuddling, talking, doing something spicy (youtube censorship much?) as long as they remain under a warm blanket. Koito giggles a lot catching their soft gaze on his lips, tickles them when silence falls. If the couple stays in the family house, servants are ordered to prepare the tastiest breakfast with gourmet chai tea as well as to find possible entertainment for the day.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

The end of the day is the last opportunity to let off steam before getting into a slower pace, and, finally, going to bed. To no surprise, Koito prefers activities aimed at the work of muscles and not of brains. Nothing too extreme though. Horseback riding is a common pastime if they are not in the mood for anything else. In other cases, Koito offers to play cricket in the summertime and go ice-skating in winter but his all-time favorite is swimming in sun-warmed waters of a crystal clear river. Despite the cold underwater currents winding around the ankles, Koito can swim in circles for hours without letting his loved one go ashore. If they are up for a challenge, competitions for who can hold their breath longer and swim to the other side faster are always a choice.  

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

As soon as they let Koito know that they are interested (doesn’t matter in him personally or in him speaking), the dam breaks. He is ready to talk about anything, from how the day was to the meaning of life, the role of the monarchy in the future of Japan, and what influence Heinojou’s death had on him. So to say, Koito sees no problem in opening up early in the relationship. There are no forbidden topics in his mind except, maybe, what is so below the beltline: starting any intimate conversation reduces Koito to a red stammering (in Satsuma dialect of course) mess. It gets better with time.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Chill enough? Not in the Tsukishima’s sense of “I have seen too much shit in my life so I am no longer surprised by anything and I expect nothing as well” but in a cheery and optimistic outlook. If he breaks a plate or cup, it is a reason to buy a new one, not to throw a tantrum on how Japan no longer makes quality dishes. How boring life would be without nuisances, huh? However, Koito immediately blows off when it comes to serious matters like life-threatening situations. Overall? Absolute ray of sunshine, anger is unnecessary, keep calm and take it easy.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Remembers nothing but anniversaries’ dates. Seriously. Don’t expect Koito to compliment your eyes’ color, he doesn’t remember it. Favorite food or place? Did you mention them at all? Hm. Blame it on the charm of the moment that hypnotized Koito and sent him into oblivion. He doesn't bother himself with writing down any facts and details and is visibly surprised if the partner expresses frustration with his forgetfulness.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Perhaps it will be a surprise but the most memorable moment for Koito would be doing “bad stuff” together. As for a person, who has not yet emerged from cheerful adolescence, drinking, smoking cigarettes, and, who would have thought, opium together leaves a weird feeling of agitation and gaiety. Hiding with the partner in crime, bottle covered under the lieutenant's coat as if he is some kind of thief, is something Koito won’t ever get used to. He drinks and mumbles gibberish then pulls his loved one closer for some sloppy smooches that never work out: someone keeps missing lips and laughing like a goofball after every failure.

Smoking opium, which happened exactly one time, was the complete opposite of previous experience. They ended up in semi-darkness in a distant room with artfully painted paraphernalia and one carved pipe that was passed back and forth for the whole night. An intoxicating sense of calm and emptiness hit Koito in the head as he was watching his loved one fusing with the thin lilac smoke: a situation they were in was too bizarre to be real but magical too so he had no right to complain. Memories of that night stayed with him for the whole life but Koito never had a desire to go for a smoke again.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

For the sake of justice, Koito has a protective side, but the carefree character often overshadows it. He meets dangerous situations in conditions where one large group of opponents confront another so everyone covers each other's back. When Koito has to fight one on one he can fully rely on the own strength and reactions but when there is someone to protect things get messy really fast.

Koito is ready to cover them with his body to save from a whistling bullet but this thought comes from a place of “I can’t come up with a plan what do I do what do I do” and not from rational thinking or self-devotion in the name of love. Nah, boy just no thoughts, head empty but HEART FULL.

Would want to be protected as well? He has no problem being viewed as one who needs help. Won’t want them to act recklessly though, exchanging their life for his isn’t fair a bit.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Youthful maximalism and all-encompassing love push Koito to new feats every day: he racks his head over which place to choose for a date, should he buy them expensive things or no because what if they look at him as at tasteless braggart, maybe, he should have not brought a bouquet today, maybe, he is too annoying… At the beginning of the relationship, he is excessively enthusiastic and scarred to mess everything at the same time. Often this mixture leads to an awkward situation but with some guidance, Koito calms down and begins to feel a partner on an intuitive level. Anniversaries will still be celebrated on a grand scale though. He has literally no chill when told to make that one day special. Lacks consistency when it comes to everyday tasks: either puts all of his effort in building a stool or does nothing the whole day.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

The bloated ego doesn’t seem a big problem at first but it keeps popping up now and then in the conversation and overall behavior. Again, it is not even close to megalomaniac extend but can be pretty annoying when Koito keeps putting himself in every story and boasting with every minor achievement.

Not the most independent, kinda clingy guy that needs somebody that he can always rely on. We have already seen Tsukishima's fate and this is what awaits for the person who decides to tie the knot with him.

LOUD. SO LOUD. DEAFENING! If you think Koito would lower the voice down or, for the frick’s sake, stop screeching but no! Excited? Yell! Scarred? Yell! Surprised? Yell! I can see him screaming louder than his newborn baby shocking midwives in the maternity hospital. Pray to God that it is not inherited.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Not to call him obsessed, but Koito takes good care of himself and tries to be attractive in the eyes of others. He may spend a little bit too much time staring in the mirror during the mourning routine, brushing hair locks just the exact way he wants them to be. Several creams are lying in the drawer of his nightstand and Koito replenishes its stock with enviable regularity. Of course, he looks sharp: when circumstances do not oblige Second Lieutenant to strict dress code, he pulls off well-tailored looks, both traditional Japanese and Westernized ones. Just imagine him dressed to kill, wearing an all-leather long car coat with skintight gloves. Koito is too powerful in his handsomeness.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Has zero knowledge of how to handle break-up and that pretty much describes what a hell ride it will be for Koito. Obviously, the violent reaction is accompanied by complete confusion, he is at a loss for words and can’t find the right ones even in the Satsuma dialect. Well, if he had a gut feeling that they are planning on leaving later or sooner, Koito would lash out at them in the worst way possible: every wrongdoing suddenly transforms into hidden signs confirming that he was not loved at all, never ever. He makes a loud scene with eyes brimming, screams whatever nonsense comes to mind to stop them from speaking further. No explanation can overpower his growing resentment. If break-up comes up out of a blue, Koito remains silent, listening to whatever they have to say. None of the words makes any sense to him and there is nothing he can tell or ask. Nothing makes sense. He sighs while rubbing his temples, eyes shut tight to separate from the world as much as possible, and turn down the white noise coming out of their mouth. Koito leaves without saying a word with a plan to avoid them in the next few weeks.

In the case of their death, Koito is in no hurry at breakneck speed to take revenge but that definitely doesn’t mean he is indifferent. Revenge is a dish best served cold, and even such a hothead as angered Koito is can wait for a better moment to strike.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Since Koito joined the army, celebrations turned from long-awaited days into in minor verbal congratulations aaaand that’s all. The atmosphere is just not the same. In the beginning, he tried to keep head up but general disinterest killed his vibes and left him bitter.

The only person who does not mind supporting the Second Lieutenant is Tsukishima: he gladly watches Koito happily screaming as he launches a colorful kite into the air, joins playing hanetsuki and sugoroku on Japanese New Year, once he even gave Koito pochibukuro as a joke. Otonoshin was merry and embarrassed at the same time since, you know, pochibukuro is given to kids, not adult men who shoot people for a living.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Mysterious silent people aren’t the company Koito can tolerate. He hadn’t had a good experience with Ogata back in the 7th Division and doesn’t see himself with anyone hiding behind a duplicitous smile.

Scolding Koito for his frivolity won’t do anything good, quite the contrary, it will force him into acting withdrawn in their presence. Attempts to change Koito are pointless since action generates opposition: the more he is told to be a serious man, the more infantile he will become.

By the way, it is important for Koito to see a class in his surrounding. He himself carries an elusive aesthetic so lack of taste and sense of beauty is a bummer. Good thing they can be acquired just like other skills.

Comparison. Do not compare Koito to anyone, ever. His father probably did it a lot back in the days when talking about Heinojou’s success so Otonoshin became allergic to any “you are just like/you act like/you look like/wish you were like” comments.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

The most normal person in the 7th Division when it comes to sleeping. There’s literally nothing to describe: Koito falls asleep fast, he doesn’t have any problems with falling asleep or waking up, doesn’t use any medication, doesn’t have any evening rituals. Dreams are a rarity. Loves to sleep with someone by the side, so he can hug a person from behind with both arm and leg, and if the place next to him is cold and empty, Koito may hug a pillow or rolled blanket.

[ruizheling]

What Chenqing means as a name

For my first meta post (on this tumblr), I thought I'd write a piece about the meaning of the name Chenqing, since it ties in so well to Wei Wuxian's narrative and his emotional arc. It's also part of the Chinese show title 陈情令 chenqingling, so I found it particularly fitting here.

bygone relationships

Firstly, as separate characters, 陈情 Chenqing has a possible meaning as past/old/bygone relationships/feelings, which can be either romantic or platonic. Just think about that in the context of his fracturing relationships, particularly those with Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji.

Wei Wuxian, having given Jiang Cheng his core, knows intimately that he has now broken his promise to be the Twin Prides in favour of giving his brother what he thinks he wants—the golden core—and he knows exactly how betrayed Jiang Cheng is going to feel, especially since Wei Wuxian would never willingly give him the full explanation.

But Wei Wuxian also thinks he’s disposable! That he’s expendable! So he writes his relationship with Jiang Cheng and hence those with Jiang Yanli and Yunmeng off as a bygone relationship. He thinks that he’s given that all up by giving up his ability to cultivate and hence contribute to Yunmeng Jiang, and that he has nothing else to offer them beyond that.

This child has grown up in a sect where his master constantly berates him and puts him down and reminds him of exactly how quickly he'd be cast out if he ever stopped being in Jiang Fengmian’s favour. Yu Ziyuan would have made her opinion very clear, and young Wei Wuxian, desperate not to go back onto the streets, would've found himself walking a delicate balance between not overshadowing Jiang Cheng too much and being great enough to continue being favoured by Jiang Fengmian.

He knows exactly how much being overshadowed hurts Jiang Cheng. But does he really have a choice when the alternative seems to be him going back to the streets? Wei Wuxian grows up knowing that the most important choice he has to make will hurt his brother either way: either he overshadows Jiang Cheng, and Jiang Cheng has to live with the inferiority, or he goes back onto the streets and Jiang Cheng is alone once more except for Jiang Yanli.

So maybe that's why he chooses to make the choice he did. Maybe that's why he was so willing to sacrifice his golden core. I’ve hurt my brother so much anyway, Wei Wuxian all but says, what's one more time when he will get the chance to carry out one of his deepest desires? What does the hurt of losing me compare to the triumph of defeating his family's executioners?

Most importantly: What does the pain and loss I have to endure here and now compare to the pain and loss I've put my brother through?

Wei Wuxian has known too much guilt and shame to ever think that the pain the Jiang siblings went through was anything but his fault. He has been blamed, derided, censured, rebuked too much for him not to take on the weight of the world's sins and believe wholeheartedly that it is his own, so it's really no wonder that he chooses to pull away from them after the war.

As for Lan Wangji, the bygone relationship here refers to how Wei Wuxian has taken on demonic cultivation. Again, the key thing here is that Wei Wuxian has no choice but to hurt the people he cares for, again and again and again. The key thing here is that he believes that Lan Wangji, paragon of Lan virtue, would never willingly associate with him once he realises that Wei Wuxian has begun cultivating the heretical path.

And he’s not wrong in thinking so: any other person would be rightfully horrified by Wei Wuxian’s cultivation. It violates so many taboos in Chinese culture that it’s frankly astounding. We’re not meant to read his cultivation as anything short of condemnable and abhorrent. Clearly, Lan Wangji’s love for Wei Wuxian ultimately outweighs his horror at his cultivation, but that’s a mark of his love, not an example of how the average person should behave.

So Wei Wuxian walks out of the Burial Mounds rightfully assuming that Lan Wangji will castigate him for choosing the only path left to him to avenge his family. He also believes that their previous relationship is lost to him now, because they built that relationship on the foundation of being equals, which Wei Wuxian cannot uphold now. He’s sacrificed that friendship in order to save his brother.

to give a full account

陈情 also has a literary meaning [to give a full account], which is derived from the《楚辞》Chuci / Songs of the South, an anthology of poetry traditionally attributed mainly to Qu Yuan and Song Yu from the Warring States period, through which (along with the《诗经》Shijing / Classic of Odes) pre-Qin Dynasty poetry is mainly known.

Specifically, it stems from this line in the poem《楚辞·九章·惜往日》/ Songs of the South · Nine Sections · Alas of Days Past: 愿陈情以白行兮，得罪过之不意。/ I wished to set forth my thoughts and explain my actions: I little dreamed this would be held a crime. (translation by David Hawkes.)

In this context, Wei Wuxian naming his dizi Chenqing alludes to the fact that his deepest wish is to explain his actions to his loved ones! He wants to make his actions known, but it would be a crime because then Jiang Cheng would be hurt and more. He can't tell them because he needs them to believe he is still strong and capable and not traumatised and exhausted, because he needs to fight and win this war, not just for the living, but for the dead—for his fellow Jiang disciples who died in the razing of Lotus Pier, for Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan, to whom he still feels some loyalty towards because of the opportunities and relative safety they offered him, regardless of their treatment of him.

[fanficflaneuse]

One Day - Part 11

A/N: Hello lovelies! I wanted to post this chapter on Saturday, but when I was about to do it, it just disappeared completely. I was so mad and frustrated I just gave up and watched LOTR lol So here we have chapter 11 and tomorrow it’s done! I want to know your thoughts on what happens next. How would you want it to end? Also, don’t kill me for the drama of it all. I hope you like it! 

Draco x reader (she/her pronouns) 

Word count: 1725 Summary: One day AU. Post-war. Since The Battle of Hogwarts, Draco and y/n meet one day a year.

Masterlist 

Enjoy!

3 May, 2010

“How are you doing, Draco?” asked Harry as he sat by his side.

“Managing,” he managed to say with a small and tired voice.

Draco was absolutely distraught. He hadn’t properly slept in weeks and everything in his demeanour oozed fatigue and pain. St. Mungo’s had become his permanent residence, only this time he was not playing the part of the Healer.

“How about you?” he asked, more out of politeness than genuine interest.

“It’s chaotic. I feel like it’s 1999 all over again, you know? The paranoia, the panic attacks and the nightmares, all full-blown. The Ministry’s bodyguards aren’t helping either.”

Every time they had talked, Harry had tried not to exert too much of his own burden on Draco, but for some reason today he felt like blurting things out. Draco’s eyes were still glued on the bed in front of them. He really didn’t feel like partaking in that conversation, but his friend seemed to be in the mood to talk so he indulged him.

“Tell me about it. We have a whole team of aurors roaming the manor. I know it’s for the best, but I can’t even let my child go out and play. I fear something terrible might happen to him whenever he’s out of my sight. It’s…scary,” he admitted, realizing how much he actually needed to talk.

“Yeah, I get it. We don’t let the kids out either and we are all going crazy.”

Twelve years after Voldemort was defeated, some of his runaway death eaters were still trying to seek revenge. In the first few years after the war, Harry and Ron had led the operations to incarcerate as many as they could find. Their efforts had put most of them in Azkaban, but some others still loomed in the most unexpected places. Every once in a while, the death eaters on the loose would pop up. So far, they had tried – unsuccessfully – to harm Harry and Ron. The attempts were so poor it would ruffle everyone’s feathers for a while and then everything would go back to relative peace.

That was until (Y/N) moved to Paris. Even if her house was full of traps and charms to protect her, she was living alone, which made her an easy target. She was not difficult to track; her status as a literary celebrity and her connections to the magical French jet set made her appear in Le Monde Magique every other day. The network of dead eaters that were still active and underground followed her for three years before striking.

The night they did, Draco and (Y/N) had a date. That’s what saved her. (Y/N)’s plan was to relocate back to England, but as she managed to get everything in order both of them apparated back and forth. They saw each other every day, went out for dates and parties with their friends and even had family strolls and dinners with Scorpius. That night, they were going to take a roam through the Champs Élysées and eat on one of their favourite muggle restaurants.

Draco arrived to her flat, excited for the night to come, only to find a scene that could’ve easily come out of a Goya painting. (Y/N) laid on the floor, covered in blood and seemingly unconscious. A man – later identified as Rodolphus Lestrange – had his foot on her throat and was flicking his wand to perform the deadliest spell. Draco’s vision turned red. Without thinking, he immobilized his uncle in law, sent him flying to the other end of the house and beat him to a pulp. He could have killed him with his own two hands, hadn’t he been so worried about (Y/N)’s state.

With her in arms, he had called the French Ministry of Magic. Draco tried really hard to act professional, check her vitals and perform the right spells like a good Healer would, but he was paralyzed. He couldn’t imagine a life without (Y/N). Draco could only think about this as he held her tight to his chest. That’s how the aurors found him: trembling, covered in blood and sobbing, unable to let go of his benumbed girlfriend.

A month and a half after the assault, she was still unconscious. No signs of change and very weak vital signs. As soon as the Healers at the Sacre Coeur hospital in Paris had deemed her stable, Hermione had helped with the paperwork to take her back to England. Since the day they had put her in that bed on the fourth floor, Draco had barely ever left her side. Their friends and family would come and go. Even if they were all sad and grieving, they’d try to console him.

Seeing her like this, so pale and lifeless, the wounds that had taken so long to heal wide open again, haunted him. Whenever he tried to sleep, he had these nightmares of her being tortured by Rodolphus Lestrange and he couldn’t keep himself from staring at his fading mark and blaming himself for everything.  

“I…I have never seen somebody lit up the way (Y/N) would whenever she saw you. Merlin, just mentioning your name made her a happier person. Since we all became friends, I thought you two belonged together,” Harry commented after a prolonged silence.

Draco really wanted to feel soothed by Harry’s comment. He tried. But as he turned it around in his head, everything about it made him feel disheartened and enraged: the quivering voice, the profound sadness and the past tense. He felt just like when he was younger and didn’t know how to deal with his emotions. So, Draco just snapped.

“Why are you talking about her as though she was dead, Potter?” he sneered. His tone and accompanying glare remined Harry of their schooldays. The difference was that now he knew that the former Slytherin was suffering and that sorrow encircled his every breath.

“Draco…”

“She’s not dead!” he screeched.

“She is not dead.” This time, he murmured so softly Harry knew it was not meant for him.  

Draco leaned forward and buried his face in (Y/N)’s hair. His suppressed sobs broke Harry’s heart. Never in a million years he would’ve imagined that this is how things would turn out, but he soon found himself hugging Draco as he wept on his shoulder.

“She can’t die, Harry. She cannot leave me.”

He was desperate. Why couldn’t they be happy? So much time wasted with life’s twists and turns, time they could’ve spent together lost because of hushed feelings and unspoken words. So much time living like two parallel lines, always in tandem and never intersecting. And when they finally connected and they lived some of the most blissful and placid months of their lives, she was snatched away. Their happiness crushed.

As it downed on him that maybe she would never wake up, Draco’s mind focused on the conversation they had a few weeks before the assault. They had just arrived in Malfoy Manor from a party at the Potter’s. (Y/N) changed into one of Draco’s shirts and was sitting on the sofa in Draco’s humongous bathroom as he unbuttoned his shirt.

“You know, Dray,” (Y/N) said as she crossed her legs.

“Yes, darling?” he asked. Draco looked at her through the mirror and smiled.

“This is going to sound extremely rushed and weird coming from me,” her voice was timid, yet it held an underlying dreaminess to it that lured him.

Immediately, he stopped his task, turned around and knelt in front of her. (Y/N) smirked, pleased to have his full attention now. “What is it, love?”

“I want to have children. I want a quidditch team worth of kids with the love of my life.” As she said this, Draco couldn’t help but smile wholeheartedly.

He had thought about that as well. Having a proper family with (Y/N) sounded like a dream. They were already a quaint little family, she, Scorpius and him. They were so happy, at times the thought of having children together was almost automatic. He knew even contemplating it was a long shot; they had been dating for a little less than a year. But those were some of the most wonderful months of his entire life and he wanted more. As in “till death do us part” kind of more. As weird as he thought it was, Draco concluded that their lives had been intertwined forever that day after the Battle, so time counted differently for them.

“And if the love of my life is not available, then there’s you,” she added cheekily. Draco chuckled, feeling his heart fuller than ever.

Draco thought it was funny how they never had this conversation before. In all of their years of friendship, they had never asked each other what they thought about having a family. Paternity had just happened to him and he received it as one of the most important tasks in his life. Regardless of the circumstances, it was indeed the best gift life could’ve ever given him.

(Y/N) was good with children. Since James was born, she had become the next generation’s preferred babysitter. Draco always thought she seemed to understand the language of children more than any other adult he knew. Maybe that was an effect of being a writer? He didn’t really know. As much as she loved her godson and her little nephews and nieces, (Y/N) never showed a desire of having kids of her own. She always seemed so focused on other things, so passionate about healing and reconciling with life that having children didn’t seem like something she wanted.  

And yet.

“I’d love for us to have our own quidditch team, my love,” he said, gently uncrossing her legs and caressing her tights, “on one condition”.

She raised an eyebrow playfully. “Let me remind you I’ll be the one going through pregnancy.”

Draco was all smiles now. “Marry me, (Y/N),” he said almost too casually. That was the essence of their relationship; a flamboyant proposal didn’t fit in the language they had created for themselves as they watched that sunrise on that windowsill. His hands on her tights, the glint in his eyes, that feeling that pulled them to each other said more than words could.

(Y/N) had said yes.

That’s all Draco could think of as he sobbed on Harry’s shoulder.

tags: @fandomscombine @oldfashionedlovergirlsblog @cleopatera @naomi02hook @okaydraco @iliketoast23 @winnsmills @happycomb @xtrashmouthxtozierx @hopplessdreamer 

@animelover09556 (your blog disappeared and I couldn’t tag you, honey, but if you ever get to read this I hope you’re doing well). 

[sepublic]

Your character analysises are so cool. I was wondering if you can do one for Amity. I chose her since she made a lot of appearance so you will have lots of canon events to work on:>

Sorry for the late response!

This is KIND OF a big challenge, and I’ve already done multiple posts analyzing Amity’s character before. So for now, let me just try to quickly summarize it all up, with what we’ve learned since Adventures in the Elements, and give my overall views on Amity and how I see and write her;

The impression and vibes I get from Amity is that she’s the kind of kid who’s got a lot of pressure on them to do well both at school and at home. They’re really desperate for the approval of older, authority figures like teachers and adults, in part because this sort of kid is lonely and doesn’t know how to make friends. This kid is likely to push friends away, not only because of pressing from adults to be better and not dragged down and prevent bad influences (a dilemma made only worse by her trouble-making siblings), but also because she likely has insecurity and self-loathing issues and doesn’t think she’s ‘good enough’, either for her own accomplishments or friendship in general. She kind of gives me Impostor Syndrome vibes. She’s mean to people like Luz both because she feels like she can’t be distracted, but also because Amity doesn’t really believe people would un-ironically want to be her friend, so to avoid being hurt she pushes others away.

Obviously, this is not doing good for her self-esteem and she’s lonely. Emira and Edric’s teasing has likely contributed to Amity being afraid of opening up, and if it’s with adults who have a lot of expectations on her, I guess it’s not a surprise she tends to be emotionally stifled. She definitely has Gifted Child syndrome where she places a lot of self-worth on being that ‘mature, obedient’ kid that the adults all love, with Amity not realizing this will only result in her emotional stagnation and lack of maturity later on in life from a lack of proper social interaction. Tellingly, when placed into bad situations that are arguably more the fault of an adult/teacher, she never blames them for it, and instead externalizes her anger on someone else involved. Amity has a huge respect for authority, which is likely connected to her desire to be in the Emperor’s Coven. Aside from membership in the Emperor’s Coven representing approval on the highest societal level, access to all forms of magic (she likes Azura and whatnot), and approval of the adults who set Amity on her path, it’s also likely that she thinks that she can friends, or at least others like her in the EC. To Amity, the Emperor’s Coven probably consists of what her parents and others may deem as ‘acceptable’ friends.

Naturally, a combination of insecurity, high expectations, and terrible social interaction has also led to Amity being a bit of a bully, but only in a reactionary sense; She doesn’t seek out drama like Boscha would. If she’s left alone, then she’ll leave you alone; But if she feels like you’re messing with her, Amity WILL be aggressive. With Willow, she also goes out of her way to ‘help’, but it’s obvious that she’s echoing a lot of bad tactics that seeks to remind a person of their failures; So it’s probable that the same things she said to Willow in her first appearance, were similarly said to Amity herself by her own mentors. Likewise, Amity’s self-doubt probably leads to her bullying Willow, because in her mind, she deserves to feel good about herself, and the elitist attitude she was taught has likely told her that people like Willow who do badly in school are just lazy and ‘deserve’ their bad grades.

Still, there’s that incessant loneliness. And while Amity does try to be super-mature, and live up a standard of rules -such as respecting hard work- and so forth... She’s also really freaking lonely, which is why she initially tries to reconnect with Willow in Episode 3. She’s not sure what to think of Luz because again, Amity doubts anyone would un-ironically be invested in her, and also because Emira and Edric likely tend to act friendly, then mean, and then brush it all aside afterwards; So she has trust issues and isn’t sure if she can trust Luz and open up to her. Amity’s a very closed-off individual.

And amidst all of her obsession with hard work and the pressure on her, I get the impression that Amity isn’t necessarily talented like her siblings or Willow, and actively has to work hard for her grades? Granted, it could just be because she’s expected to be the best at everything, but there’s also the possibility that she lacks talent and has to make up for it through sheer determination. Which, combined with expectations placed on her, both as a Blight and also because adults know she’s less likely to complain and act out and do as she’s told, it just gets very uncomfortable. Amity needs a place to be herself, but alone, because she doesn’t think anyone would really accept her, for who she really is?

(I mean, we all know at least ONE person...)

At the same time, while she definitely has to try and not just ace everything effortlessly, I also think she genuinely loves and enjoys school, education, and teaching in general; It’s just that making it into a standardized grading system sucks the joy out of it all, as Eda might say. Amity enjoys reading to those kids in Episode 7, and there was a promotional crossover post prior to the show’s premiere about Amity trying to pitch an educational series and being saddened when she got rejected. This girl is a total dork, as if her love for Azura wasn’t already enough!

I also think it’s why in Adventures in the Elements, she becomes a lot more open to Luz, happier around her, and even sort of initiates social connection by waving her hand at Luz at one point! She’s afraid of rejection and loneliness, of not being good enough... But Luz is someone who likes Amity just as she is. And I think Amity is a little anxious to be on Luz’s good side, to not mess up with her like she did Willow (which, Amity may still have reservations about being friends with Willow again... Even if her biases were gone she might still feel guilty, and/or get defensive when called out on her behaviors because Amity feels like she has to defend what adults have told her to do). I think she’s also afraid of getting taken advantage of, given her hurt expression when she found Luz with her Training Wand... But at the same time, she doesn’t want to throw away a friend because she’s been so lonely and found someone with a mutual interest. So in addition to that and Luz’s previous kindness, she’s still concerned for her, and it pays off when Luz comes back to help Amity!

TLDR; This is a lonely, insecure kid who has a lot of pressure on her and doesn’t know how to talk to people, so she internalizes a lot of stuff and ends up becoming off-putting as a result, because she doesn’t want to be hurt. But by the end of the day she’s a still total dork and a dweebus and wants friends and still feels guilt for being mean, but because of expectations on her to be better, Amity feels like she has to prove herself and that also leads to her not wanting to hang out with the ‘wrong friends’ as a result. She’s coped with loneliness by vying for adult approval, and likely operates on a strong sense of right and wrong. She has been hurt before, and her interactions with her siblings make talking with people a lot more confusing to Amity; I wouldn’t be surprised if someone might make a joke or something, and Amity, totally-serious and deadpan, would take them at their word for it and not realize said person was joking.

In short, I love her alongside everyone else in this show-

[why-this-kolaveri-machi]

i preserved in him what he needed to believe about you.

i wrote yesterday that this episode had a lot riding on it. for the most part, it delivered--mostly in anchoring both dick and slade’s arcs, expanding on the themes introduced in s2, and in firmly establishing jericho as My Favourite Forever And Ever. it was also very flawed, but in (mostly) interesting ways. let’s talk about it!

SPOILERS ahead.

1. jericho has my whole heart and then some. i think it would’ve been very easy to paint him with broad strokes--my fear was they would drag the innocence all the way to the edge of infantilisation, which, good god NO--but while he is enthusiastic and ready to believe the best of both his friends and family, there’s a sharpness to him, a kind of reckless guile, and quite a lot of unresolved and complicated feelings about father figures. 

1.25. he is obviously very proud of his father having served in the military--he’s even tangentially aware that he was experimented on, given his nonchalant attribution of his own powers to “drugs” that his father took while serving. (this awareness has to include the fact that his father definitely took a number of lives as a soldier.) even the awful assault that took away his voice and eventually his father from his life tracks with a single, knowable truth. knowing this helped him ground his own identity--the problem comes when he realises that what he’d used to build himself on was itself built on a lie. 

there is a tension, then, between his loyalty to these friends who used him but ultimately revealed the truth to him, and his desire to have that cornerstone of his life back. his compromise is to talk to his father, but only with dick’s permission; in it, he would know if his father was finally ready to be completely honest with him, and if there was more to dick’s friendship than merely using jericho to get to his father.

1.3. of course, it doesn’t exactly work that way: in the final fight at the church, there are two men who insist on their truth while pushing him to the side. in it, he sees one of them ruthlessly cut down the other, and he sees the other using his own body and life to protect him. jericho makes his choice in the end.

1.45. dick i think was absolutely right and justified in bringing jericho to a safe place where he can explore and learn to control his powers, even if dick was surprisingly blase about the potential ethical tangles of being able to possess other people’s bodies without them being aware of it. it was honestly a bit disturbing to see that hank was chosen to demonstrate jericho’s powers, given his history and the fact that he describes the experience as a “blackout”. i’m just going to assume that he would’ve come around to it eventually.

given the relative paucity of Big Bads and grand superhero battles, i’m kind of taken with the idea of the titans essentially being a support group for young troubled superheroes who need help and training and ways to ground themselves before heading back to their corners of the world. 

1.5. ultimately this episode once again drives home what should be the essential question in a show that revolves around a team of superhero sidekicks: are we destined to be what we were moulded to be? is the point of their existence to perpetuate what their mentors/fathers did? slade and jericho both struggle with this; so do dick and donna in this episode. so do rose, and jason, and rachel, and conner, and kory in the broader context of the series. the answers they find are complicated and at the cost of a great deal of pain, but the process is always interesting.

1.8. obviously jericho isn’t actually dead. i wonder what that initial dreamscape sequence was all about? is it some secret pocket dimension that jericho jumped into at the last minute when slade killed his body? is that where he’s been for the last five years?

2. dick grayson is lost. he is utterly buried under artifice and armour. i mentioned in a previous post (i think the one for 2.07) that he performs quite a bit of emotional labour for the team on top of being their leader in a tactical sense. here, he’s trying to hold it together for the team after a devastating death; he’s spearheading an effort for revenge he thought they all supported. he pulls on batman-goggles, trying to look at what he’s doing from a logical, emotionally-removed perspective, even while burying his bleeding heart as deep as he possibly can. no wonder he’s acting “like a ghost” and “burning at both ends”--it’s a terrible burden to bear. 

then the team turns around--once they’ve already gotten the info they needed, mind!--and tells him to cut jericho out of this operation; that it’s wrong and awful to have involved him at all. when he tries to do just that, he sees that he can actually help jericho as a friend and teammate, and at the urging of dawn, comes clean to him. meanwhile garth’s death and donna’s grief is still an unrelenting pressure on the back of his neck, driving him to find deathstroke at any cost--except when that cost is betraying jericho’s trust. ultimately slade nearly murdering donna is what breaks him--and he decides to follow jericho to slade anyway.

at every point he is so desperately trying to do good by everybody that he loses himself in the process. that his reward for this is being beaten up, a truckload of survivor’s guilt, and being abandoned by his closest friends is just so fucking awful. his friends are so used to his artifice and he is so used to absorbing all the blame that they think nothing of both praising him for being someone that saves people and believing he would sacrifice innocent lives for the sake of a mission in the same day.

(but this makes dick/kory so beautiful and refreshing--she has no time for his artifice and he doesn’t have to Be Someone around her. their relationship is defined by being undefined, and in that sense--at least for now--both of them find peace in the other.)

2.5. slade commenting coldly on dick’s fighting skills and the way he uses dick’s feelings for jericho to distract and defeat him makes me think that slade’s been playing this game with dick for far longer than he was aware: slade used both jericho and donna as bait to lure dick to that church, fought him in a cold, critical way undoubtedly reminiscent of a thousand sparring sessions with batman, and drove him utterly to the ground not just to prove a point to the titans and the superhero community at large but to jericho as well: this man is weak, manipulative, and ultimately a poor substitute for slade. 

2.75. who knows for how long dick wallowed in his failure, still seeing jericho take the blade that was meant for him, utterly alone? did he go back to the batcave, utterly defeated, and did he listen to bruce call him out on his mistakes? how much do you think he internalised all the terrible things he’d been told he was until he believed it all to be true? until he couldn’t live with himself and spiralled and spiralled until his self-hatred lead to outright self-destruction?

like--no wonder he completely fell apart in the present day when deathstroke showed up again. he’d just started to trust--he’d just started to build a family again. and here it is, a reminder of his biggest failure threatening to have him fail spectacularly once again. 

... this boy needs so much therapy. or at least a long nap and a series of hugs.

2.8. (that fight between him and slade tho... goddamn. even my shitty quality stream couldn’t take away from how thrilling it was to watch.)

3. dawn is... well. i know it’s been frustrating to follow dawn this season, as she’s been either non-existent or, uh, flat, but there was something interesting in the way her dynamic with dick moved and shifted in this episode. she thrills to ideals without considering the consequences of actually following those ideals. in the space of a few months, she can implore dick to act like batman, then tell him no, she was wrong to have asked him to do that, then say that she loved him for saving people and then barely days later abandon him for being a reckless sociopath who exploited innocent lives. in the present day, she can support hank in his retirement and rehabilitative process, yet still think it’s perfectly ok to go behind his back and continue being a vigilante. she supported protecting rose in the tower but still piled on dick for going off on his reckless suicide mission to try and save both jason and rose. she endorsed (and once praised) dick taking on troubled young superhero charges, yet turned around and berated him for daring to open up titans tower and “put them in the firing line”. 

i mean, for all that she takes the considerate, sensitive line in conversations, it’s almost always in contradiction to a position she’d taken earlier. it’s too consistent to be a coincidence, and i think it’s fascinating.

4. i didn’t realise amazons could be defeated and killed so easily?? who issued the contract to kill jillian in the first place and what was the “important work” they were doing in san francisco in the first place? a mystery within a mystery...

5. if this season were the draft of a story, i would go right in with a red pen and start moving around all the parts to make it flow better; excise entire passages and rewrite a few others. the pacing has been terrible, and this has meant that the younger titans--and the team we came to know and love through the first season--have gotten almost nothing to do, either plot-wise or emotionally. even if kory and gar and rachel become absolutely vital to the story in the last 4-5 episodes, it would still be a fairly significant failure, storytelling-wise.

that’s a pity because this show is packed with a stellar cast, always looks gorgeous, and is filled with genuinely insightful human relationships that are allowed to unfold in ways you just don’t see in other superhero media. just--*vibrates* a little more love and care from the people making and producing the show please!

[alwaysmychoices]

“Unspoken”

Synopsis: After a magical day on the river, Ethan and Charlie are faced with the weight of all their unspoken feelings...

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x MC (Charlotte “Charlie” Greene)

Choices Story: Open Heart

Rating: NSFW (there is a divider before the smut)

Words: 7487 (oops)

Part 3 of “A Weekend with Dr. Ramsey” 

part 1: drunk texts - part 2: a day with dr. ramsey - part 3: unspoken - part 4: in the morning light - part 5: brunch - part 6: the library -  part 7: the cure - part 8: the celebration - part 9: coming soon

Commenting, liking, and reblogging mean the world to writers, so thank you so much for engaging with my content!

The drive to Boston was quiet.

Jenner had fallen asleep in Charlie’s lap early into the drive, snoozing contently after a long day at the river. Charlie’s directions were no longer needed as Ethan was fully capable of navigating them back to the city without them, and for that, she was grateful. Her mind already felt as if it were bursting at the seams with too many thoughts, and she stared into the passing scenery as if the dark night could provide elusive clarity.

The problem with a magical day is that the sun always sets, and when it does, you’re left in the dark.

When Charlie looked at Dr. Ethan Ramsey, she saw a kaleidoscope of a man. Every angle was a new side of him that she’d never seen before. Sometimes, she felt like she could reach out and connect with the shimmering smile in front of her, but there was always a wall separating her from the illusion. He was so close, but he was still so far away…

Tonight, under the soft moonlight glow, Ethan didn’t look like the confident doctor she’d met in Edenbrook. Concern etched itself into his handsome features, and a lingering air of defeat and disappointment followed him like a cruel haunting. From the passenger side, she could see the knot between his eyebrows, an expression she remembered as his sign of deep concentration. He was thinking hard about something, but Charlie had no idea what.

As much as she admired and adored the man beside her, she couldn’t pretend to fully understand him. She knew him more than most, but there were so many undiscovered layers, so many secrets he kept from her. She wondered if she would ever know all of Ethan. Would he ever let her that close?

“You’re staring,” Ethan cut his eyes to Charlie, unable to contain the urge to take his eyes off the road to look at her. The doctor inside of him chastised such behavior. He’d seen many patients come through his hospital from lovesick injuries, each easily preventable but prompted by reckless actions by someone in love.

But he was retired now, wasn’t he? The doctor inside of him lacked credence over his human desires. And his chief desire was to be close to Dr. Greene, even if she seemed a million miles away tonight.

He imagined Rafael Aveiro looking at her. Rafael’s eyes would never be guarded. They’d unabashedly admire the beautiful intern, no inhibitions to guard like Ramsey. Ethan wondered if Rafael’s gaze had the same intensity of his own. Did Rafael love her?

Of course, he does, Ethan didn’t have to hypothesize. Everyone loved Charlie. They’d be a fool not to. If she could make a man as cold as Ethan form an attachment, what could she do with a man like Rafael?  

Something was stirring inside of Ethan’s chest. Jealousy burned at his skin, every nerve ending overcome with the emotion. His mind was consumed with unwelcome images of the two of them together, of a part of Charlie’s life that he knew nothing about. There was so much more to this enigmatic woman than what he knew. He’d caught glimpses of her fiery determination and self-destructive sense of duty to her patients as well as her lack of self-protective instincts, all of which challenged her career in the upcoming ethics hearing.

A smile perked at his lips as he remembered his own first year of residency. Back then, he was overcome with his own ego, but even in his ambitious drive, did he have the balls to take on Big Pharma like she did? Even today, did he have the reckless bravery of the woman next to him?

There was a swell of pride as he thought about all she’d done. As her mentor, he was severely disappointed in her irresponsible behavior, but as Ethan, he was proud as hell.

“Sorry,” Charlie mumbled, “Just thinking… I guess I focused on you or something.” Charlie’s voice trailed off as if she was pulled back by the tide of her own thoughts.

Ethan glanced at her again, so deeply concentrated. Desperately, he wanted to know what was happening in that mind of hers. More than ever, he wanted to be the man that knew her, the one that cared for her.

But he couldn’t ask for that.

Because if he did, he would be forced to answer the unasked question lingering in every interaction – Did Ethan Ramsey love Charlie Greene?

Theoretically, such a realization should have been the culmination of his linear progression of acceptance. Their relationship began with disdain and disinterest. Though he was impressed by her gumption and assistance during their first meeting, she was flawed. She had yet to perfect her technique and lacked the experience to trust her intuition. She had potential, of course, but she was merely an unformed piece of clay.

He remembered telling Naveen about their first encounter. He’d given Charlie a scathing review littered with uncharacteristic compliments, and Ethan remembered the look in Naveen’s eyes when he first spoke of her – it was the same look Naveen gave them tonight.

Naveen was a shrewd diagnostician, and he clearly could diagnose Ethan long before Ethan could recognize the change in himself.

Over time, Ethan accepted that he admired Charlie. There was no harm in acknowledging her potential, and he gradually became accustomed to the idea of mentoring the young student. He watched her thrive through the competition, working hard to reach the top spot, and Ethan was free to admit his admiration for her work.

So, when had it become personal? When did the professional relationship seep into his personal life? Had the lines always been blurry, and had his heart been involved the entire time?

Undoubtedly, Ramsey exhibited favoritism, and to Harper’s appreciation, he acknowledged it.

Over time, he accepted different aspects of their unorthodox professional partnership. Charlotte Greene was more than an intern. She was his favorite intern. She was his favorite coworker. She was more than a coworker. She was a friend. She was more than a friend. She was…

It was this final diagnosis that Ethan couldn’t make. What was Charlotte? And could he bear to admit the truth?

“What are you thinking about?” Ethan didn’t anticipate saying those words, and once he did, even he was stunned d by them.

Charlie stared now, disbelief evident in her expression.

“A lot of things,” Charlie was intentionally vague. Since when did Ethan ask her personal questions?

Ethan nodded, honestly disappointed by her evasion.

Silence consumed the car again, but they were too deep in thought to notice.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Dr. Olsen?”

Charlie gasped. Landry. Right.

Somehow, Charlie hadn’t thought of his betrayal once during their adventure with Naveen. Last night, Charlotte Greene tried to drink away her mistakes, one of which was trusting Landry. His deception burned inside of her, irrevocably reframing their friendship. Could she even call it a friendship? Had she always been unwittingly engaged in a silent war with him? If she didn’t have Ethan, would she still have her friend?

Bitter resentment and anger settled into a cold, aching disappointment in the pit of her stomach. She blamed herself for ignoring the obvious signs and for trusting him without any proof of his merit. She questioned others around her, wondering if they held the same disgusting motives as her former friend. She examined her own ambition and its limits. Could she ever do such a thing to someone she loved? And if she could, was she just as bad as him?

“I did,” Charlie laughed weakly.

“When you were drunk,” Ethan corrected her, surprised by his own disappointment and rejection that she hadn’t come to him, “Why didn’t you tell me when you were sober? Why didn’t you tell me about the sabotage when it began?”

Charlie chewed her lower lip, shrugging as she explained, “I don’t know. I didn’t want to give excuses for my problems. Even if you believed me, I would have just been projecting blame. I’m a better doctor than that.”

“If I believed you? Charlie, do you think I wouldn’t have believed you?” Hurt was evident in his voice.

Charlie squirmed, surprised by his accusation and the pain in words. Did it hurt him for her to not trust him?

“I… I don’t know,” Charlie admitted solemnly, “I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me.”

“Charlie, I could never be disappointed in you,” Ethan’s conviction was apparent, and it startled Charlie, “You could have told me.”

Something was swelling in Charlie’s chest, but she was terrified to put a label on such an unfamiliar feeling.

“You could have told me you were leaving,” Charlie was emboldened by the intimate space between them. In this car, under the starlight, they were in a world far from that of Edenbrook. They’d never been closer, yet they’d never been farther away.

Silence. Again.

Ethan’s breath hitched, horrified by her words. Guilt wracked his body, a familiar feeling but an unexpected context. Charlie had never seemed so raw, so vulnerable. The truth in her eyes overwhelmed him. After being so guarded for so long, how did one voice all of the words they’d left unspoken?

“I did,” Ethan’s evasiveness now mirrored Charlie’s.

“No,” Charlie had never put so much emphasis on that one word. She’d never felt so strongly that he hadn’t told her. It was as if his narrative challenged everything she knew, everything she experienced, and she didn’t hesitate to remind him of that day, “You kissed me outside the hospital, took off your badge, announced your resignation, and ignored me as I begged you to stay.”

The bitterness in her voice was palpable, and it was strong enough to expose the darkest part of who they were to one another.

It was now clear that their relationship was merely a patchwork of resentment and adoration, each battling it out beneath the cover of obvious affection for one another. In their quest to do the right thing, they’d levied attacks against one other – each unintended but devasting all the same. They were held together by strings of love that were fraying at the edges, threatening to fracture them if they didn’t do something.

But what were they supposed to do? How did they say something they’d never said before? How could they voice feelings they didn’t even admit to themselves? How could they open themselves up when the threat of being pushed away was so high?

Ethan froze, his grip tightening on the steering wheel as his memory returned to his last day at Edenbrook. He moved through each event, remembering where Charlie stood in each of them. She’d stood next to him through his failure, still looking up at him like an untarnished hero. How could he stay and face that? Who would he be if he pretended to be the man she thought he was, and who would he be if he destroyed her idyllic hope in him?

“I shouldn’t have done that…” Ethan whispered, mostly to himself.

“Which part?” Charlie challenged him, tears threatening to spill as she waited for his confession. She didn’t need him to tell her the answer. She already knew what he regretted, but she dared him to confirm that he regretted her, not leaving. Ethan Ramsey’s misplaced remorse lied in allowing her so close that his departure pained her. When the chips fell, Ethan resorted to his withdrawal instincts, and Charlie knew it.

Anger sprouted through her soul, reigniting months of rejection and waiting. Charlotte Greene was always waiting for Ethan Ramsey and always hoping that he wouldn’t push her away this time. She maintained a naïve assumption that, eventually, he would pull her close instead of casting her out. At what point did she accept defeat?

Now, she felt foolish as she stared down the barrel of last hope. Her day with Ethan Ramsey was beautiful and fostered desire she’d long abandoned that this man could allow himself to love her, but as the sun set on the river, the darkness highlighted the toxic traits that separated them. How stupid had she been to expect him to change all his rules for her? How many interns before her had deluded themselves into thinking they were special?

Ethan’s deep sigh was deafening in their newfound silence. He felt like he was driving straight into a hurricane but couldn’t stop his disastrous trajectory. His instincts urged him to do what he should have done months ago and sever their attachment before it came too dangerous. It was one thing for Ethan to suffer at the hands of Cupid, but to watch Charlotte battle a similar affliction was cruel. He could stop it now…

But as Ethan looked at Charlotte, he hesitated. He couldn’t let her go. He couldn’t break it off. It was a delusion to think that this relationship was anything but dangerous. The risk had already been taken. An intense desire to hold on took control of his body. It was as if, in the moment of crisis, his mind finally found what he valued most – and it was Charlie.

He should have said that, but he didn’t.

Instead, he asked, “Do you want to come up for a drink?”

Charlie’s gaze never wavered. Rationally, she knew to tell him, No. She knew to get out of his car and walk out of his life because, if he couldn’t love her now, he never would. She knew that she deserved better, but she couldn’t do it. A flicker of hope burned bright in her chest at his invitation. She knew what he was asking but needed him to say it.

“To your apartment?” she prompted.

“Yes.”

“To talk?” Charlie demanded, desperate for him to be explicit for fuck’s sake.

She needed him to say that he was inviting her to come back and talk, to work through their bullshit. She needed him to say that this was worth fighting for. She needed him to acknowledge their precarious state. She needed him to say that he was trying. Because, if he couldn’t, how could they ever find their way?

“Yes.”

“About what we’re fighting about?” Charlie crossed her arms.

“We’re fighting?” Ethan’s eyes flashed with panic.

“Yes,” Charlie asserted, and dread gripped his heart as he nodded in understanding.

Charlie faltered, trying to think of a million reasons to turn him down, but not one stuck. Because, as she saw a hint of fear in his eyes, all she wanted to do was reach out and take his hand.

“One drink,” Charlie finally consented, and for a moment, Ethan’s tight chest felt relief.

But the fear never subsided. They both sensed the finality that approached, and the weight of their unspoken fights and emotions grew increasingly unbearable. Both knew that, at the end of tonight, their unrecognized, longing existence would cease to exist, but neither could anticipate what would follow. When the world stopped spinning, would time still move?

When Ethan arrived home, he hesitated to take the key out of the ignition, and he considered driving far, far away to stay in this little bubble. He wanted to resurrect the day and live it once more, and he wanted to stay with Charlie for as long as he could. But before he could run away, he removed the key from the ignition and stepped out of the car.

Charlie followed, tenderly rousing Jenner, and the three of them made their way through the underground parking garage toward the waiting elevator. Ethan pressed his floor’s number and leaned back into the elevator walls as if it would slow time. He watched her beside him and witnessed concern etch its lines into her forehead, and without thinking, he reached for her hand.

As his fingers laced through hers, Charlie nearly jumped, and she looked back to Ethan with evident shock. He almost pulled away when he saw her expression, but he stopped when she squeezed his hand in return.

And it was enough.

It was enough to try.

When they entered his apartment, Charlie released Jenner from his leash and watched as he jumped on the couch, eagerly waiting for her to join him for another snuggle session. She smiled softly at him, scratching under his chin and placing a kiss on his forehead, before leaving their potential snuggles to talk to Ethan. And for the first time, Ethan was sincerely jealous of his dog.

Ethan was already reaching for the decanter when Charlie joined him, silently watching as he poured out a glass of scotch.

“Scotch or something else?” Ethan was prepared to list every single drink he had in his arsenal, full of nervous energy, but she stopped him with a nod towards the decanter.

“I need something strong, and that looks delicious.”

As Ethan poured her a glass, he felt an odd sting of pride. His girl knew a good drink. His girl… Ethan chastised himself for using that word. He didn’t get to call her “his.”

They both took a sip and allowed the warmth to linger in their chest before speaking again, waiting for the liquid courage to set in.

Unsurprisingly, it was Charlie who made the first move towards the awkward discussion.

“I said one drink,” Charlie eyed her drink, “By the way that tastes, I’d assume we don’t have much time before that glass empty, so we better start talking.”

Ethan paused, considering all of the strategies he could take. His fear of losing her paralyzed him, but his fear of hurting her spurred him to scrutinize everything. He’d never been in this place before, and his frame of reference was limited. How did one act in such a situation?

“You didn’t tell me about the ethics investigation,” Ethan blurted out, amazed by how much it hurt him that she’d kept that from him.

“I tried, but you closed the door in my face,” Charlie asserted.

Fuck… Ethan grimaced as he remembered the day. Was that what she was trying to tell him when he’d been such a dick?

“Did you go to someone else?” Ethan didn’t recognize the jealousy in his tone.

“Excuse me?” Charlie flushed, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Did you go to Rafael when I didn’t talk to you?” Ethan persisted, horrified by her potential answer.

“You don’t get to ask a question like that, Ethan,” Charlie shook her head, obviously frustrated, “Don’t act like I haven’t given you far more opportunities than I’ve given Raf.”

“Oh, so you’re giving him opportunities?” Ethan couldn’t understand why he was so upset. He knew that she was right. If he hadn’t been bound by his morality, he could have had Charlie a long time ago, and she had no responsibility to stay loyal to a nonexistent relationship. She was free to do whatever – and whomever – she wanted, but the idea of it killed Ethan.

“Do not pull that bullshit,” Charlie took a large gulp of her scotch, begging it to fuel her, “When we almost had sex in Miami, who is the one who stopped it? It sure as hell wasn’t me.”

“I’m your boss! It’s not ethical!” Ethan retorted.

Charlie rolled her eyes, “Well, I’m already facing an ethics hearing, so clearly, I’m ethically substandard.”

Fuck. That’s not what he meant.

“You know I didn’t mean it like that,” Ethan couldn’t fathom not making that point explicit.

Charlie diverted her gaze, biting on her lower lip as she raked her fingers through her falling ponytail. As her blonde hair fell around her shoulders, Ethan was caught off guard by how vulnerable she seemed. She was just as impassioned and upset as he was, if not more so. She walked away from him, pacing his living room floor and occasionally glancing over at him as if planning her defense.

“I know you didn’t mean that,” Charlie admitted with a deep sigh, “But I don’t know what I know about you. Today, I felt like I really knew you. Today was great,” Charlie closed her eyes as if trying to relive their carefree afternoon, “But then you try to pull away. You don’t let me in. You wouldn’t have brought me in on Naveen’s case if you didn’t trust me, but you never show it. How the fuck am I supposed to be your friend if you can’t tell me anything?”

“I brought you in on a case I failed at, Charlotte,” Ethan gulped at his drink as if the smooth scotch could dull the nagging failure that he carried every day. It was the first time he’d ever said her full first name, and Charlie’s eyes shot to his, amazed by how cold she felt at the title. She just wanted to be his Rookie again, “I told you why I left Edenbrook. I’m not the doctor we both thought I was,” Ethan’s voice cracked, and just like that, the anger dissipated from Charlie’s body as she was overwhelmed with a desire to fix this wonderful, broken man.

“Don’t say that,” Charlie stepped towards him instinctively.

“It’s true,” Ethan drained his scotch, returning the glass to the table as he fell into a nearby armchair, “I failed Naveen. I failed my patients. I’ll fail you soon, too.”

“It’s not true,” Charlie was by his side now, surprised by her own proximity to him, “That’s bullshit. You’re the doctor I thought you were and more. You saved thousands of patients, Ethan. They’re still living their lives because of you.”

“I couldn’t save Delores. I couldn’t save Naveen. I-I…” Ethan’s hand was reaching for the scotch bottle, but Charlie grabbed it before he could, taking his hand in hers.

“You didn’t save them, but you loved them,” Charlie stared deep into his eyes as if begging him to believe her, “You stayed up all night with baby Ethan, and he has a full life because someone loved him. You gave Delores and Naveen a choice, and when they picked their diagnosis over treatment, you respected it. That’s why you’re the best doctor I know. You never stop caring about your patients.”

Charlie paused, tears welling in her eyes as she added, “If I’d been more like you, I wouldn’t be in this mess… If I’d taken no for an answer, I wouldn’t have endangered Mrs. Martinez. She’d be alive, and I wouldn’t be facing a revoked medical license.”

Ethan’s heart broke at the pain in her speech, and before he could stop himself, he told her, “That was the stupidest, most unethical, kind thing you ever did, Rookie.”

Charlie looked up at him, something inside warm at the sound of her nickname.

“You’re a good doctor, Charlotte, and I’m not sure if I’m brave enough to help Mrs. Martinez in the way you did.”

Charlie nodded slowly, mulling over her words before saying, “You told me to examine my mistakes, learn from them, and let go. Instead, I lost one of my best friends and risked my entire career to make a point.” Charlie was laughing at herself, but her chuckle was laced in bitterness.

“You do enjoy the dramatics,” Ethan conceded, earning a playful glare from the woman next to him.

A peaceful lull formed in the storm of their fight, momentarily reminding them of what they were even fighting for in the first place. How did they make everything seem okay again, even when it clearly wasn’t?

“I didn’t know if I would ever be able to move on when you left,” Charlie admitted carefully, “For a cold son of a bitch, you sure as hell make people care about you.”

Ethan laughed his first genuine laugh of the whole night, and a smile perked at her lips despite everything.

“I tried very hard to make you stop caring about me, but you were always stubborn,” Ethan was still smiling to his own disbelief.

“You’re right,” Charlie nodded thoughtfully, “Inviting me to Miami, including me on a secret case, taking me for coffee, going to the opera… All of that definitely pushed me away.” She looked back at him, eyes glaring with amusement and something he could finally put a name to – affection.

Ethan laughed, amazed by how much he enjoyed when she made fun of him, “You forgot introducing you to my dog.”

“Please, Jenner is basically my dog now,” Charlie looked over at the puppy now watching them intently.

A comfortable lull formed in their conversation. It was amazing how easy it seemed to slip away. They both knew they hadn’t resolved everything, and more fights were waiting. But they couldn’t manage to break the comfort they felt in each other, not yet.

Finally, after a long time, Charlie spoke. She hesitated with her words, unsure that she even wanted to ask the question, but after a beat, she forced herself to ask, “Will you testify for me?”

Ethan looked surprised, and before he could answer, Charlie nervously jumped in, “You’re the one doctor I respect most in the world, and if you don’t want to testify for me because I failed you, I understand-“

“Charlie,” Ethan stopped her mid-sentence, and she gazed up at him with those big green eyes that momentarily distracted him, “I tried. Emery won’t let me because I’m too biased, and we both know she’s right.”

Charlie let out a defeated grimace, standing slowly and moving towards the window as she processed the rejection. Beneath her, Boston hummed with electricity and excitement. There was an entire world down there, oblivious to what was happening in Ethan’s apartment. They had no idea that Charlotte Greene’s life was falling apart…

Ethan retrieved both of their glasses, returning to the decanter to refill them, and he tentatively met her at the window, holding out the glass as a peace offering.

“To early retirement,” she smiled sadly, holding the glass in a toast, “Likely for both of us.”

Ethan clinked the glass with a sad nod, and the scotch settled into a familiar burn in their chest.

“You tried without me asking…” Charlie’s whisper surprised Ethan, and he couldn’t miss the small smile dancing on her lips.

“You’re just the latest person I tried to save and failed,” Ethan swallowed, his failure threatening to consume him.

Charlie shook her head, placing a hand on his cheek as she moved his face to look at her, “You never failed me, Ethan.”

She was so, so… close.

He could smell lingering notes of his body wash on her skin, an intoxicating combination of fresh air and freedom. He was close enough that he could watch her chest rise and fall with her breath. Her lips parted as she gazed up at him, her lips still shiny with scotch, and Ethan’s breath hitched as he realized she was… so beautiful… and so close…

Ethan was leaning closer, so close that Charlie felt the heat of his breath on her skin. Her senses were overwhelmed with him… Her grip on her glass loosened, sliding out her hand and splintering into tiny pieces on the hardwood floor, but the sensation was distant.

And then he was against her, their proximity so close that she only had to lean the tiniest bit to brush her lips across his. They were soft and warm and…

And they collided. Months of longing were poured into his touch as his tender, bruising kiss consumed her. He tasted like scotch and coffee and Ethan, and her fingers tangled in his hair as she pulled him closer. He could feel her hammering heart against his chest. His hands were on her, his fingertips digging into her hips as he tugged her as close as he could possibly have her. Any space was too much. He’d never needed anyone like he needed Charlotte Greene at this moment.

Ethan effortlessly lifted Charlie, guiding her to wrap her legs around his waist as he pressed her against the window. The cool glass contrasted the heat between the two of them, and her lips left his to giggle at his eagerness before she was lost in him once more.

His hands were everywhere, her waist, her hips, her ass, her thighs, her chest… It was as if he felt the need to explore and claim every inch of her body, to treasure it with his appreciative touch.

“Ethan,” Charlie moaned softly, her hands leaving his hair to pull at his sweater. Ethan pulled away just long enough for her to take it off, not caring where the garment fell when she threw it over his shoulder, “Mmm, that’s better.”

Ethan’s hands were already on her waist, the fabric of her t-shirt wrinkling beneath his touch. His shirt. Ethan felt a swell of pride as he remembered how sexy it was when she confidently walked out in his t-shirt this morning, and he remained convinced that it was the hottest thing she’d ever worn. The grey cotton began to ride up her body as he moved his hands up her torso, and he victoriously pulled it over her head and threw it on the ground beneath him. Her exposed skin was so warm against his hands, and the lace of her black bra tickled his skin as she pressed herself even closer to him.

Ethan moved back from the window, still holding onto her tight as he led her back to his living room, and he softly placed her on his couch. Slowly untangling her legs from his waist, her fingers fumbled for his belt, and he laughed softly at her attempts to quickly remove it.

Biting on her lower lip, Ethan pulled away from her kiss, enjoying the sweet sound of her moan, and as he gazed down at her, it was undoubtedly the best sight he’d ever seen. His Rookie was desperate for his touch, desperate for him.

His Rookie…

Ethan’s breath stopped as he suddenly remembered why he hadn’t seen this sight since Miami, why he’d left her then… and why he had to leave her now.

Charlotte saw the change in his eyes, and her stomach lurked as panic settled in.

“Ethan…” she whispered, her hands on his cheek as she started to sit up to look at him better. No, no, he couldn’t… Not again, she thought to herself.

“Charlie,” Ethan’s voice was ragged and full of disappointment, and it was a sucker punch to Charlotte, “I can’t…”

Charlie’s eyes closed in a grimace as she fell back to the couch, covering her head with her arm as the sting of rejection replaced the carefree joy she’d felt only moments again. Even now, miles from Edenbrook, he still didn’t want her… Tears prickled at her eyes, but Charlotte willed them away.

Ethan’s hand hovered over her hair, desperately wanting to comfort her, but instead, he removed his touch and stepped away, knowing it would only do more harm than good. He left the couch, returning to his glass of scotch and downing it as he waited with bated breath for her reaction. She was still quiet, collecting all of her thoughts as her emotion wreaked havoc.

What’s wrong with me? Charlie’s thoughts were unstoppable, cutting through every attempt to silence them as they taunted her with rejection and humiliation. Hadn’t she learned to stop hoping for Dr. Ramsey?

Before she knew what she was doing, Charlie grabbed the pillow from behind her head and hurled it at Ethan. The pillow stunned him but bounced off easily, leaving him stunned and confused.

“Fuck you, Ethan Ramsey!” Charlie was up now, looking for her shirt so that she could stop feeling so exposed and vulnerable, but when she saw it on the floor, she was reminded that it was his shirt, not hers. Fuck.

“Excuse me?” Ethan asked incredulously.

“You heard me. Fuck you,” Charlie repeated, the words flowing off her tongue with such ease that Ethan almost forgot that he was the one being cursed.

“Charlie, we can’t,” Ethan began, but Charlie stopped him before he could deliver the same speech.

“Don’t you dare,” Charlie shook her head, the tears trying to return, and she had lost her strength to will them away, “Don’t you dare tell me that you can’t betray your moral code and have sex with your intern. You can’t do this, Ethan. You can’t pull me close just so you can push me away.”

“That’s not what I’m doing!” Ethan was offended at the accusation, “I’m putting you first. I’m putting your career first, Charlotte.”

“No, you’re not! That’s what you’re telling yourself, but that’s not what’s happening!” Charlie jabbed a finger at his still bare chest, “You’re afraid of intimacy, so you’re searching for every possible excuse to keep me at arm’s length. You can’t have it both ways, Ethan,” Charlie paused when she heard her voice crack, trying desperately to sum up the strength to continue her speech, and the sight made Ethan shrink. He’d never seen her so hurt, and he knew he was the cause. “Did you just try to get me naked because you heard I had sex with Bryce? Is it some stupid test to prove your masculinity?”

“No, of course not,” Ethan breathed, desperate to make her believe him, and he instinctively placed his hands on her waist as she wiped at her tears, “You’re more than some toy, Charlie.”

“I know,” Charlie pulled out of his grasp, “You can’t just play with me when you’re bored and drop me when you want to. That’s not fair.”

“I’ve never meant to do that,” Ethan had never been so intent on making someone believe him. She had to know the truth. She had to know that she was more than that, that she was more than everything to him.

“Don’t do this, Ethan. Don’t make it too hard to be around you. Don’t you dare push me away,” Charlie wiped at the tear sliding down her cheek, betrayed by her own emotional response, “You’re not my boss any more. The only thing keeping you away from me is you right now. At least be honest with that.”

I’m not her boss anymore…. The words played over and over again in Ethan’s head, forming a soundtrack to his epiphany. She was right. She was always right.

“Rookie…” Ethan’s whisper was soft and intimate, and even when she was so angry with him, it made her heart skip a beat. He stepped forward, his hands cupping her cheek as he leaned his forehead to hers, meeting her eyes as she felt the comforting warmth of his breath on her skin, “You’re… you’re everything to me.”

Charlie’s lips parted in a surprised gasp, staring up at him as if trying to prove to herself that she’d actually heard him correctly.

And he almost said it… three little words he’d never said before. But instead, he kissed her.

Their tender, bruising kiss held the emotions of months and months of waiting and pain and rejection, and they lost themselves in each other’s touch.

Ethan was the one to slide her out of her skinny jeans, slowly but surely stripping her down as his hands explored her skin. Once she was down to her underwear and bra, Ethan pulled her back to him, their bodies so close that they practically breathed as one. Her legs wrapped around his waist, tugging on his hair as he carried her back to her bedroom. Close wasn’t close enough for either of them, and Ethan laughed softly into her lips as Charlotte practically squirmed to get as close as possible.

Charlie pulled on his lower lip, whispering, “Let me down…”

Ethan begrudgingly unwrapped her legs from his body, gently putting her down on the floor without daring to break their kiss.

He felt her smirk against his lips as she unzipped his pants, pushing them off and toying with the waistband of his boxers. Ethan’s muscles froze as he felt her hand so, so close… She loved watching the effect she had on him as she tantalizingly slowly took off his boxers, brushing her fingertips along his hardening member before wrapping her hand around him and gently stroking.

“Charlie…” Ethan’s voice was breathless, making Charlie smile in pride.

“Yes?” Charlie raised an eyebrow, licking her lips as if offering an invitation.

Ethan’s hands tangled in her hair, moving her to look directly at him as he earnestly asked, “Are you sure?”

Charlie’s smile warmed his skin as she nodded, “Yes. 100% sure.”

Their lips collided again as Ethan pulled her back to his bed. Once the back of her knees met his mattress, he pushed her softly, and Charlie fell back on the bed, eyes heavy with lust as she looked back up at him, waiting to have him close again.

To her surprise, Ethan didn’t climb on the bed with her, and she pouted as he leaned close, whispering, “Not yet…”

“I’ve been trying to have sex with you for months. Why not yet?” Charlie’s whine was sincere and made Ethan chuckle.

“Patience is a virtue, Dr. Greene, and I want to remember every single moment of this…” Ethan’s lips grazed her collarbone, his hands lifting her just enough to unclasp her black bra. Charlie shrugged out of it, goosebumps forming on her skin as the cold air washed over her. Ethan’s tender, wet kiss moved across her collarbones, pausing on her neck to find just the spot that made Charlie squirm before moving down her chest.

His appraising eye marveled at her body as his hands, which began at her hips, roamed her curves until they reached her breasts. Cupping her breast in one hand, he tenderly massaged her as his tongue caressed the other, teasing until his mouth captured her nipple. Her body bucked in response, and he could feel his own body respond to that perfect, perfect moan…

“Ethan…” Charlie was growing impatient as her desperation to feel him heightened.

But once more, he whispered, “Patience…”

His mouth began to move lower, appreciating each inch of skin as he navigated her torso. She giggled at the tickle of his stubble, her hands tangling in her hand as she told him, “Your stubble tickles.”

With a rueful smile, Ethan brushed along his chin and responded, “I should shave.”

Charlie’s eyes playfully narrowed as she insisted, “Don’t you fucking dare.”

Ethan didn’t bother to contain his laughter before returning to her body, spreading her thighs as he approached the apex. He lavished his attention on her inner thighs, kissing and nibbling as the woman beneath him writhed in delight.

“Please…” her whisper was hoarse with desire, and finally, Ethan relented.

With his thumbs hooked on either side of her panties, Ethan’s kiss diverted from her thigh, just gently meeting the lace of her underwear. His kiss was long and wet and lazy, and Charlie melted into his mouth. Taking his sweet time, Ethan stripped her off her underwear and placed a long, purposeful lick along her folds. His tongue circled her nub as he appreciated her sweet taste. Charlie’s hips moved with his mouth, her fingers tugging on his hair as she wordlessly begged for friction and pressure. Ethan delivered, his adept finger sliding inside of her, and he watched as she fell apart when his finger curled.

Charlotte moaned her delight, her eyes fluttering closed as she rose to her peak. He could feel it in her body before she said a word – the pink flush to her skin, the friction of her body writhing beneath his tongue, the desperation in her bated breath, the way her muscles tensed around him… Her breath hitched as she approached her climax, and Ethan watches her, catching her gaze as she lost control.

“E-Ethan,” she pleads as she feels it coming, her breath hitching right before…. “Fuck!”

Charlotte shuttered as her orgasm lit her body on fire, each nerve ending consumed in the blissful heat. She hummed as her pleasure settled in her, a lazy smile spreading as she whispered, “Ethan. Fucking. Ramsey…” she bit on her lower lip, his name now forever a chant of indulgence.

“Jonah, actually,” Ethan smirked, moving up to look at her, and she raised her eyebrows in confusion, “My name is Ethan Jonah Ramsey, though I suppose ‘Fucking’ works as well.”

And right then, Charlotte’s laughter is music to his ears, and as she looks up at him, she almost said it… Three words she’s never meant like she meant them now.

But instead, his lips were on hers, full of heat and promise, and she was lost in it – in him.

Their fingers intertwined as Ethan moved over her, effortlessly moving her farther onto the bed as he knelt between her legs.

The sight beneath him took Ethan’s breath away. His beautiful, wonderful Charlotte looked up at him like no one else ever had. She waited with obvious desperation for him for him. She was here for him. She wanted him.

His length ran along her wet slit, probing as he looked at her with a silent question, and she nodded her agreement without an ounce of hesitation. His smile was broad and beautiful as he kissed along her skin, teasing her relentlessly and bringing her so, so close before finally…

“Fuck!” Charlie gasps as, after months of pining and waiting, they finally connected. Ethan sank deeper into her, overwhelmed by how intimately close they felt. Her fingertips brushed along his cheek, smiling softly as she met his lips in a deep, bruising kiss.

Ethan’s pace was slow and careful, each thrust timed to make Charlie think she couldn’t wait any longer and then fall apart the second he delivered her cravings. Her nails dug into his broad shoulders, not caring about any potential marks as her nails dragged along his skin while his pace quickened with desperation.

The pleasure mounted in Charlie’s hips as he delivered each deep, toe-curling thrust. His mouth claimed hers, his tongue fighting for dominance over hers as her body flushed with delight.

“Ethan, I’m so cl…” Charlie didn’t need to articulate further as she lost her breath, overwhelmed with his touch. He carefully adjusted his grip on her thighs, his thumbs leaving bruises along her skin, and he used the new leverage to drive deeper and deeper into him. His lips were selfish as he every inch of her body, needing to taste her, to feel her and know that she was his.

Charlie’s skin burned with desire, unable to hold on as she dissolved into her climax. She’s so, so close – she’s – she’s – fuck. Charlie fell apart beneath Ethan, her orgasm taking over her body.

Ethan watched through hooded eyes, feeling her tighten around him, and it was too much. “Charlie,” he moaned her name as if it were sacred praise, each thrust harder and more desperate than before. At the summit, he lost control, his body sated in the warm ecstasy of his orgasm. His forehead fell to her shoulder as he tried to catch his breath.

For a moment, they just stayed like that, enjoying their bliss, enjoying each other…

Finally, Ethan moved out of Charlotte, pulling him beside her, and without a word, Charlotte tangled herself around him, tucking her head in his chest as she listened to the thump of his heartbeat.

“We just had sex…” Charlie murmured, sounding astounded.

“We did,” Ethan confirmed, twirling her hair around his finger as he appraised the beautiful woman in his arms. How the hell did this happen?

“Oh my God,” Charlotte let out a single chuckle, looking as if she couldn’t believe it either, and he found himself smiling.

Tilting her head up to look at him, Ethan said, “Stay the night.”

Charlotte wasn’t sure if his invitation was a command or a question, but she couldn’t dream of leaving his bed either way.

“Only if you finally give me an embarrassing tee shirt to wear tomorrow,” Charlotte’s eyes were full of amusement as she teased him, and he couldn't resist the urge to kiss the tip of her nose.

“I may have a secret Turkey Trot t-shirt in the back of my closet,” Ethan finally confessed, but his embarrassment was soon forgotten as he watched Charlie’s face light up with excitement.

“I fucking knew it,” Charlie kissed him in victory, her arms looped around his neck. The kiss was long and lazy, and when they pulled away, Ethan could see the sleep in Charlie’s eyes. Safely tucking her in his arms, he kissed the top of her head.  

He was just about to fall asleep when a small whisper lured him away from slumber.

“Please don’t leave me…” there was fear in Charlie’s voice as if she was waiting for him to run away at any moment, and the sound broke Ethan’s heart.

“I won’t,” he whispered, “I promise.”

This was so long, and I’m so sorry. I really wanted to tackle that Charlie is scared of Ethan’s instinct to run away, and that isn’t going away any time soon. I hope you’ll tune in for part four! If you would like to be tagged (or stop being tagged), just let me know!

Tag list: @honeyandsunfl0wers @wangdeasang @hopelessromantic1352 @jens-diamondchoices @sheismental @ughhhxjazzy @desmaranj @claudevonstruke @octobereighth @timmagicktoad @flyawayboo @elixabexh @togetherwearerapture @perriewinklenerdie @nobounderiesplease @simsvetements @too-spooky-bunny @caroldxnvxrs @itsfabrayic @drethanramsey @drrameyfanpage @paisleylovergirl @msjpuddleduck @padfoot0415 @barricades-of-freedom

[smuttymess]

bts astro soulmate reading | for deja

sign: gemini sun | pisces moon | libra rising

lover: Park Jimin | soulmate: Jung Hoseok

This reading is for Deja, a Jungkook bias who also stans OT7 with a particular affinity towards Jimin and Tae. With a maknae line like that, who could blame her? Please enjoy this reading, love!

Idealistic, imaginative and intuitive to almost a psychic degree, your star sign combination makes you one of the dreamiest in the zodiac. For better or for worse, you tend to see things as you would like to and not so much as the way they are down on earth. But honestly, who can blame you? The real world pales in comparison to your infinite nature of your imagination. Your intuition helps guide you through life, and you are innately in tune to what you and other people around you need. One of the zodiac's biggest thinkers and communicators, it is best for letting someone else figure out the logistics and details while you are off ideating and making power moves - unencumbered by little details - is likely how you achieve greatness in your life. Both Gemini and Pisces (air and water) are known for their duality, their desire to flow and evolve towards whatever they set their hearts and minds out to do, and as a result of your innate joie de vivre you have many admirers who want to be a part of your world. While in high demand, a result of your charming Libra rising, you are not someone who can be pinned down easily. Your friends have long given up on trying to get you to stick to any sort of schedule - whenever you arrive is right on time. They are happy to take you as you are, for when you are present you are able to express an almost unparalleled empathy, attentiveness and warmth which makes you all at once irresistible and unforgettable to those you love (and even those you've only just met!)

Gemini/Pisces is a duo of energy, movement, and passion: you move through the world on your own terms, seeking excitement and pleasure in everything that you do. This placement, along with your Libra rising, lends you to escapsim. It is not uncommon for you to want to take a spontaneous trip to explore a new culture, perhaps booking a house in wine country in order to blow off steam or avoid an impending work deadline - a little wine won't hurt! Upon arrival you're happy to find that your host is the incredibly attractive Park Jimin, who happens to own the entire vineyard, and you two immediately connect. Jimin is a true Libra, his charm emanating from his being with little to no effort, but it is not disingenuous - he is just naturally flirtatious and personable. His balance-seeking Libra rising and witty Gemini moon is familiar, as if he's known you for many years, making you immediately at ease in your solo travels and maybe a little horny too. You two both possess a gift of being highly sociable and fun to be around, Jimin's Libra Sun meshing almost perfectly with your Libra rising, and it is not long before you two become inseparable - likely making the other guests wonder if you are longtime partners or co-owners of the property.

After many long conversations and several glasses of wine, you are not surprised to find your lips intertwined, the plushness of his perfect pout pressed gently against yours. The Gemini/Libra relationship is a true escape in and of itself, one that simply requires existing as you are in the moment. Within your short time with him you become purely infatuated, his eyes sparkling as brightly as the stars above the vineyard as he smiles, the pure embodiment of romance and passion tanks to his Venus in Scorpio. Your signs share a love for leisure and pleasure, which lends nicely to long mornings in bed and walks across the gorgeous grounds, sneaking in tender kisses and under the sun before ducking away into a more secluded area. Gemini runs the show in this pairing, your hands feverishly running beneath his shirt and across his abs as your lock him into a kiss. Jimin is more than happy to have you push him against the wall, hungrily planting kisses along his neck as his hardness presses into your thigh. this Air signs tangle effortlessly together, as if your bodies were made for each other. Above all else a Libra lover wants to make his partner feel good, taking immense pleasure in seeing your lips fall apart as his fingers slip beneath your dress and across your clit. He knows how to tease you, his fingers brushing across your lips but never giving you the full relief that you crave, smiling as you become more and more desperate against his touch, practically fucking yourself against his fingers. My girl is so naughty, isn't she? The sex is so good you might almost think about making this vacation permanent.

Despite the beauty and charm of this duo, there is not enough stability or grounding in this duo to truly move this from a lovely fling and into a more serious relationship. Jimin's Libra values responsibility, balance and reliability, while Gemini/Pisces placements is notoriously flighty and seeking out their next adventure - where to next? This would not be so much of a problem were it not for JImin's Venus in Scorpio, which often shows love through possession, jealousy and control. Sure, there is a part of you that enjoys it (hello, Pisces) and you love how passionate he is about you and the things he cares about, but ultimately recognize that his need to really be attached to you, however sweet, is stifling. Additionally, these signs are both so consumed by pleasure that you will likely not accomplish anything outside of that, which is all well and good until the money runs out (commonplace with these two!) While this is likely not a forever match, there is a potential here for a long-term friendship filled with shared respect and admiration for the goodness in one another, with little to no animosity over the end of the relationship.

You have the mind of an artist, and it is not uncommon to find you in highly creative and artistic spaces that require out-of-the-box thinking. A leader in your own right, you could easily head a team of creative marketing professionals at a prestigious ad agency or a luxury fashion brand, putting together unique ideas to make a client's dreams come to life. It is in such an environment where you meet Jung Hoseok, your newest celebrity client, your eyes lighting up as he enters the room clad head to toe in starkly contrasting prints that somehow work seamlessly into a cohesive look. He possesses the signature traits of an Aquarius: confidence, independence, and originality. When his dark eyes move to meet yours, you can feel that rare, instant connection that cannot be ignored. While the physical relationship between a Gemini and Aquarius is often undeniable, it is your mutual wit and intellectual-thinking that draws you to each other over the course of your time working together. Aquarius Hoseok is unusual, charming, witty, and cool that gravitates towards your natural curiosity and boundless energy. You know he likes you, his eyes on your frame as you move about the room presenting your newest creations for his clothing brand. Together, you are two misunderstood individuals who innately understand each other on a profound level, as if nobody else is in the room. While neither of you are ones to wear your emotions on your sleeves or commit to anything too early on, you know quite early on that you will be fucking sooner rather than later - and you are certainly hoping for sooner.

Once you are no longer inhibited by the constraints of a professional relationship, all bets (and clothes) are off. The various debates you have and sharing of ideas while working together is all the foreplay you need, and the result is worth the wait. Hoseok has been thinking about every inch of your body that he wanted to feel underneath him, the little spots that would set you on fire the minute he could. He possesses a quiet, strong dominance about him that wants to consume you whole, which he does within minutes of closing the door to his suite. Moving closer to you to place his hand gently against your neck, you are almost overcome with desire as his eyes pierce into you before whispering into your ear. You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this. And now you’re all mine. Hoseok can be authoritative in bed, which you are happy to enjoy as your Pisces moon adores being ravished and devoured. Your sexual fantasies are of course rarely if ever just at home, your signs matched perfectly for mild exhibitionism or discreet public play. He enjoys hearing you scream his name, trembling as he thrusts you in the dressing room of a high-end retailer that he's rented out for a personal shopping trip. My baby looks so beautiful getting fucked in this dress - we'll have to buy it so I can take it off again at home. However timid or bashful your Pisces may be, you know that you are safe in his hands as they grab your hips and your breasts as they press against the floor to ceiling windows of the sprawling hotel penthouse he's booked for the week just to have a change of scenery.

The incredible emotional range of Gemini and Pisces alongside your tendency to go with the flow makes you very sensitive to others perceptions of you and also to criticism. While a Gemini can certainly speak off the cuff, perhaps offending a few people in the process, it is challenging for a Gemini sun/Pisces moon to receive words that are anything less than positive. As a result, you are prone to oversensitivity from taking things personally - your Pisces retreating into solitude away from the ugliness of it all. Hoseok is a perfectionist, his Aquarius sun propelling him forward as he seeks to excel in his own crafts, and while he is a creative thinker he is often very much entrenched in his beliefs. One of Hoseok's weaknesses is his ego, amplified by his Taurus moon and Uranus in Capricorn, which means when he is "right" it is incredibly hard to move the needle. You live in fantasy while he tends to live in reason and factuality, not shying away from criticism, and it is these differences that need to be appreciated for this match to go the distance. Your Pisces moon and his Venus in Pisces is effectively the saving grace of this pairing, allowing you to connect emotionally in a way that many other Gemini/Aquarius may not be able to. Instead of keeping things casual, this shared understanding gives you both with the empathy required to see and love your partner for who they are: an equally flawed and imperfect human trying to do their best.

This is ultimately a successful pairing that knows that in each other they have an intellectual match that should be cherished, forging ahead as business partners and moving the world forward with their incredible imaginations and creative ideals. Life together is not at all a normal one, because you show love through exploration and spontaneity, taking you to destinations around the world at a moment's notice and leaving little room for boredom or conventionality. You two allow each other to explore yourselves individually without restraint, knowing that your bond can't easily be undone. The home base you create together is one likely high above the cityscape, a sanctuary filled with fine art, personalized design, and plenty of space and light to establish a sense of comfort and creativity. While you two are not homebodies of any kind, this refuge gives you just the right amount of serenity so you can wake up and bring your dreamy, airy notions into the wider world.

[tarysande]

Hello, I love your lucifer thoughts, and if you want to write it I would love to now your thoughts on lucifer using names/nicknames

I’ve thought about this a lot. I even touched on my personal headcanon about it in the last chapter of Taking the Fall :)

Obviously, Lucifer uses nicknames or alternative names a lot. I think he says the word “Chloe” less than a dozen times across three seasons, while he uses “Detective” or “the Detective” hundreds. She’s even saved as “the Detective” in his phone. 

So, let’s start at the beginning. (In the beginning...) The show has drawn from many sources to construct Lucifer Morningstar as we know him. Obviously, we’ve got the comics. Personally, I see a bit more of Neil Gaiman’s Lucifer than Mike Carey’s (and, to be completely honest, I feel like a bit of Gaiman’s Crowley may be mixed in there as well). In Carey’s comics, Lucifer is much more able to think in the Very Long Term, for example, and is essentially always acting on a Plan of his own (which creates a neat parallel between God and Lucifer, but I digress). Gaiman’s Lucifer is the one who is Done with Hell and basically hands over the keys; he’s also the one who cuts off his wings; he’s the one who speaks the great lines the show used to such effect--about not being responsible for humanity’s sins and disliking that he’s blamed for things he’s not responsible for. He’s also the one who retires to LA, starts a nightclub called Lux, and really has a thing for sunsets. Gaiman was also the one who established that Lucifer was once called Samael. Gaiman’s Lucifer is heavily influenced by Milton’s Paradise Lost iteration of Lucifer (he of “It’s better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven” fame; Milton’s Lucifer gets all the best lines). He’s not distinctly (or solely) comprised of Christian or Jewish mythologies, though both influence the character.

In his short story, “Murder Mysteries,” (which features the same Lucifer he incorporated into the Sandman comics) Gaiman establishes at length how angels are named. First, they include “el”, which means, “of God.” The other part of their name indicates their purpose. Samael, depending on the translation, can mean venom, poison, or blindness of God. I don’t know about you, but if my name was Poison, I’d probably feel like I got the short end of the naming stick. This is contrasted, of course, by the same angel carrying the name (or perhaps title), Lucifer. When Gaiman introduces him, it’s by another character saying, “He was the Creator's finest creation: the angel Samael, called Lucifer. It means ‘the bringer of light.’ Of all the angels he was the wisest, the most beautiful, the most powerful. Saving only his Creator, he is, perhaps, the most powerful being there is.”

When Lucifer Fell, he abandoned the name Samael. He rejected it. Poison or not, he was no longer “of God.” Whether out of spite or anger or truth, Lucifer rejects the name his Father gave him in favor of the title. He identifies himself as Bringer of Light; this is the name he chooses. In the show, we witness Lucifer’s reaction to Samael when Linda speaks it. It angers him. Upsets him. After all this time, he is not indifferent to it. And though he claims not to care about many things related to his past, the name is very obviously a match to very dry tinder.

Names, to Lucifer, mean something beyond just monikers to identify one individual instead of another. Names having power is pretty common in mythology. The show also indicates that angels, specifically, can be summoned by prayer--presumably invoking their names with intention; Lucifer summons both Amenadiel and Uriel this way. It’s unknown whether Lucifer can still be summoned (or hear) prayers. It’s also unknown whether that prayer would have to be directed at his of-God angel name; still, I think there are many reasons why Lucifer holds names at arm’s length.

Names are also intimate; knowing them and using them can indicate deeper relationships, connections. Even with all the growth we’ve seen in Lucifer, he is still leery (if not afraid, though he’d never put it that way) of intimacy, friendship, connection. Lucifer has, for almost the entirety of his existence, been alone. Even when he wasn’t physically alone, his relationships have been marked by power imbalances. In Heaven, he was “of God”--created for a purpose and pretty unrepentantly “part of God’s plan.” In Hell, he was Lord and Master; Maze is/was the closest thing he had to a friend, and we continue to see how unbalanced that relationship was. You can’t truly be friends with someone when you see them as an underling, an employee, as belonging to you in a manner that implies use. 

This question of usefulness is a huge one, and probably deserving of its own meta, but since it also comes back to names, I’ll touch on it quickly: Again, from the beginning of his existence, Lucifer has existed to be of use--first, as God’s brightest angel; then, as Lord of Hell. This notion of usefulness as balance or quid pro quo is woven so intrinsically into Lucifer’s understanding of himself that it very nearly becomes his definition. Balance, justice, an eye for an eye--all of these things are irrevocably part of the fabric of Lucifer. When he desires something, he doesn’t just take; he trades. To be certain the trade is equal, he asks what the subject of his desire desires, essentially asking, “What can I give you that’s equal to what I wish to take from you?” It’s also the basis of his favors: “If I do this for you, you owe me in equal measure; this is non-negotiable.”

Because Samael was, in his mind, treated unfairly, Lucifer (light-bringer meaning both physical light and the light of truth) has unbreakable codes of fairness. They may not always look like a human understanding of fairness, but Lucifer’s internal morality (ironically) is pretty sacrosanct. Essentially, he may be judge and jury and punisher, but he does make sure the trial is fair. In Sandman, Hell builds itself around Lucifer. This may not be explicitly stated on the show, but the notion of hell-loops and guilt and punishment equaling the crime are all very Luciferian. Did Hell alter itself to suit his sense of justice? Or did Hell’s justice affect Lucifer? (Given that we do know at least a little about pre-Hell Samael/Lucifer, I think it’s more the former.)

So, nicknames. Lucifer uses positive nicknames and negative ones. The tone is important. Brother can be scornful, angry, frustrated, almost spiteful. And sometimes, especially as Lucifer and Amenadiel’s relationship changes over time, it can be genuine and even grateful. Brother/sister/Mum are actually really important, I think. These are family relationships that have been all but severed for an unfathomable amount of time, but Lucifer still uses them (and not always sarcastically or with derision). Tellingly, his family still uses brother/son with him, as well. Lucifer still wants connection, but he no longer trusts it; it can be taken from him. Using nicknames/epithets is a way to keep people at a distance--he makes them their job, their position (the Detective, obviously, but also Dr. Linda); in some cases, he keeps things formal (Ms. Lopez); in others, the nickname is openly scornful (Detective Douche; sneering Cain--the secret name; the murderer’s name--instead of using Pierce).

Lucifer diminutizes names when he’s lording over people or displaying superiority (Pierce becomes Piercy; Reece becomes Reecy. Reece actually has a bunch of nicknames, and you can always tell how Lucifer feels about the guy at any given moment based on how he refers to him). He calls criminals by their crimes (“Hello, murderer.”), relegating them to their crimes, their sins, their actions, and taking away the humanity of a name full-stop. Sometimes Lucifer’s nicknames are tools, sometimes they’re weapons; I think sometimes they’re even gifts, or at least an attempt to create a connection even though the most intimate or closest avenue (just using their name) is still too much for him (Dr. Linda is not the very formal Dr. Martin; Ms. Lopez is very occasionally ‘dear Ella’; he uses darling, love, lovely a lot--mostly positive, but again, tone is a factor. I’d hate to be on the wrong end of a scornful or hateful darling).

Also related to power/superiority is his insistence that people use his name--the name he chose, that he adopted. Ella swiftly changes Luce to Lucifer. Similarly, he is very open about the identity he adopted--the Devil. When things arise to question that identity or poke at it too hard, he becomes unsettled, even untethered. The wings/devil face of S3 was all about this notion of forced rather than chosen identity (at least as he saw it).

Though he is initially scornful, however, he does let his family use nicknames--again, I think that’s part of some long-buried part of him that wants to belong but just does not want to belong as Samael (that is, on his father’s terms). So, Amenadiel calls him Luci. Azrael calls him Lu. Neither gets the violent, visceral response of Linda’s Samael. 

Obviously, a whole separate essay could be written on Lucifer’s use (and not use) of Chloe/the Detective. He uses her name when he’s at his most desperate and his happiest. He uses her name, in short, when he’s at his most vulnerable. Sometimes, he’s accepting of this vulnerability (when he’s praying to his father) and sometimes, I don’t think he realizes how vulnerable he is (when he’s just announced to Maze and Mum that he and Chloe are real). In essence, he treats her name as something near-holy, almost sacred. She holds power over him, whether he’s conscious of it or not; her immunity to his power is part of it--she is, in essence, unknowable because he cannot fall back on the familiar to understand her. His feelings for her, obviously, are another part of it; this is a very particular and uncomfortable kind of vulnerability that he both craves and is terrified of (caring about something that much means it can hurt you, and the last time he cared, he was hurt beyond all belief--and certainly, in his mind, in a manner committed the unforgivable crime of being unjust).

So, after all this discussion, I think the takeaway is that Lucifer uses nicknames as weapons to wield or consolidate power, shields to keep himself at a distance and defend himself from hurt, jokes to deflect, arrows to wound (and, ironically, usually those harsh nicknames are poison-tipped). And all of this is rooted in his own very complicated history with names--and with how names have been used to influence him or inflict pain, especially concerning power/powerlessness, control, and choice.

[istanleyff7]

Joanne and Lilisa, and, Glen and Geddy

Final Fantasy VII Remake: The Investigation Unit Within the Painting A Short Story by Kazushige Nojima Translated by Stanley

Chapter 8: Joanne and Lilisa, and, Glen and Geddy

Joanne Liu, Lilisa Meg, and Glen Reiner enlisted on the same day and spent their time as recruits together. The three of them grew up in the slums. There was an instructor who blamed Lilisa’s failure during training on her upbringing. When the assignment was over, Joanne's anger did not subside even after returning to the barracks. She went to the instructor in anger, but Glen was already there, protesting against him. That incident made the three of them close. From there, Geddy Puck joined in. He was Glen’s friend back in the slums. The three recruits and the general staff of the Science Department made time to gather, to eat and to talk about their dreams together.

Joanne had a dream. It was to become a military executive. She talked about the future of commanding the military that is currently under Heidegger to her colleagues and laughed. It was a joke, there were some parts that she was serious about. Glen was an ambitious person. Whenever he was going to be promoted above Joanne, he would compete with her at every opportunity. Due to the inspiration from them, Geddy also desired to be promoted. Geddy, who was not a soldier, got into politics inside the company. Only Lilisa was satisfied with just becoming a trooper. If she had no trouble having food and a place to sleep, life was excellent. It was because she was raised in a particularly poor family.

When Joanne found out that the Special Ground Investigation Unit, under the direct control of President Shinra, was to be established, she lit up. She was worried about the unbelievably extravagant information prize and the level of risk exchange, but she burnt off her worries with her ambition.

To apply, she went to the reception desk. Glen was there, and he had already finished the proceedings. They laughed at each other’s secretiveness. Both of them were eligible. Because Joanne learned that she wouldn't be leaving immediately, she trained physically from morning till evening, and at night she would visit one place after another spontaneously. Glenn, occasionally Geddy or Lillisa, or both, would come together.

The day before departure, in preparation, an encouragement rally hosted by President Shinra was held. Joanne saw the President up close, and she was deeply inspired by his encouragement. The ambition had gone somewhere. The venue was dominated by the exhilaration of the attendees participating in plans that will determine the future of the world. A few Turks came in and distributed photographs. It is a square photograph with a side of about 10 cm. It was a strange photograph. It seemed like a photograph of a landscape painting. There were coordinates jotted down on the other side of it. According to the explanation, the troopers would be transported by a helicopter to the coordinates, descend using a parachute, and search for the landscape on the photograph until they are recovered ten days later. If they could pinpoint the location, they would receive 50% of the prize money, 100% if it is a land suitable for the construction of a Mako Reactor, and if it was what the President envisions a Mako Reactor treasury would be like, 220% of the reward would be granted. It was an amount that one could live their whole life without working. The troopers, however, even with zero rewards, would certainly have jumped off the helicopter. The wild enthusiasm of the venue, built up by the President's words, had taken away the judgement of Joanne and other people.

That night, a party was held for Joanne and Glen. It was Lilisa's idea.

It was a public holiday, Lilisa cooked some delicious looking dishes in her room. Joanne showed up, followed by Glenn, who brought Geddy along. Alcohol was also abundant and the four of them got drunk. It was like someone's birthday party. However, the atmosphere changed when Lilisa started to cry. Apparently, she drank too much.

“Glen, please don’t go. I have a bad feeling about this. I love you…”

Joanne was completely unaware of Lilisa’s feelings. Glen was too.

“It will be alright. I will come back”, Glen gave a mere consolation and looked at Joanne and Geddy to request for support.

“I drank too much. I’m going to get some fresh air.”

Joanne stood up from her seat. She was annoyed at Lilisa. There was a friendship present between them as long as Lilisa did not step into somebody’s life choices. She did not have the right to pull the foot of someone advancing towards their dreams. Even so, Joanne didn't mean to ruin that night.

She took up position in front of the window at the end of the hallway corridor of the barracks and gazed at the smoke billowing Mako Reactor. The night wind that blew into the opened window was refreshing.

Joanne heard a desperate voice calling out for her.

When she returned back to the front of the room, she spotted a collapsed Geddy. His upper body was protruding out of the door. After she rushed over, she found out that he was trembling. He was convulsing.

“Geddy!?”

It looked serious. She was worried about the two inside. However, Joanne firstly asked a neighbour for assistance. After showing him Geddy’s state, the neighbour immediately ran to call out a doctor for her.

When she returned to the room, the stench of vomit was present. Glen and Lilisa had collapsed in the middle of the filth. They too were convulsing. She also called out their names but it seemed that they couldn’t hear her.

“Lilisa, she..”

She turned her head towards the frail voice, Geddy was standing up, leaning against the wall.

“It seems that Lilisa had put something inside…”, he only uttered that before he collapsed. His convulsing had subsided.

The doctor came soon after. He was a young doctor who was living in the barracks. The doctor examined Glen and Lilisa who was losing consciousness, and Geddy who was recovering, the doctor immediately contacted the headquarters' Science Department. At a remarkable speed, men and women wearing white coats assembled in the room. Except for Joanne, the three of them were carried on a stretcher and were transported somewhere. The men and women split into groups and began examining the vomit and the remaining alcohol and cooking. Joanne vaguely thought that it would be a simple examination using reagents.

“The results are out. As expected, it’s Mako”, said a man in a white coat, examining the food, in a serious voice.

Joanne was then questioned with a barrage of questions for over an hour by the white coats and military directors who appeared after learning about the commotion. Was it an accident or a scheme that Mako entered the dish? Whose mistake was it? Whose crime was it? They seemed to be only interested in that. Before long, dispatched troops showed up and everyone exited the room because of that. Joanne left the rotten smelling room, she was then at a loss. No one had told her about the safety and updates of Glen and the others.

...It seems that Lilisa had put something inside…

She thought back about the words that Geddy had left behind and thought about its’ meaning. Does that mean that Lilisa had put something in her cooking to keep Glen from going? Is it possible? Is Lilisa a woman who does that? It’s hard to say. Romance may have changed her.

Geddy returned close to midnight. He mentioned that the medicine he was given had worked well and he recovered.

“The symptoms were mild anyway. I’m still sick, but it’s alright.” 

“How about Glen and the others?”

“It seems that their condition isn’t stable. Even though I called out to them, there was no response.”

“Hey, Geddy. What happened after I left the room?”

“After you left…”, Geddy frowned. “The buzzer of the oven rang. The casserole was ready. Lilisa ignored it and continued talking. Glen stated that he wanted to eat. Anything that could change the topic was good. But she did not waver. Since it can’t be helped, I took out the dish from the oven and brought it to the table. Glen vigorously ate the dish which was still simmering, and at the same time, he exclaimed that it was delicious. Lilisa seemed to be in better spirits, and also ate it. As I'm not good with eating things hot, I waited a little while before I ate. I was blessed that the amount I ate was less than Glen’s and that’s why my symptoms were probably mild. The cooking was delicious. I didn’t think there was Mako in it.”

“Are you certain that there was something added into the dish?”

“What we had eaten, and what you didn’t eat, was only that dish.”

___

-Next Chapter- Chapter 9: Joanne Liu of the Barracks (II)

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