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evedaser · 1 month ago

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Merlin Spell Review

After rewatching the entirety of the show, some episodes more than once, and taking notes the whole time, I am so excited to finally present to you a full summary of the magical data* from 2008-2012's BBC Merlin.

*Specifically about the spells, therefore innate/passive abilities were not included! Morgana's visions, Merlin's Dragonlord commands, Anhora's teleportation etc DO NOT COUNT.

BBC Merlin contains 512 spells over the course of 65 episodes.

Characters

Merlin

Merlin cast 312 spells (60.9%) over the course of the show for an average of exactly 4.8 spells per episode. 112 of his spells were cast nonverbally, comprising 35.9% of his total magic usage. This proportion was at its highest in s1 (35.1%) when his magic was at its least refined and most instinctual, and s5 (71.2%) when his magic was at its most powerful.

(The other 39.1% of spells are divided between 41 other characters.)

He is the most consistent magic user in the series, being the only magician to cast in (almost!) every episode. There were 12 episodes where he was the only character to perform magic (including some surprising ones like s4e9: Lancelot du Lac, where Morgana's resurrection of Lancelot doesn't actually use any spells. In fact, Merlin is the only one to use spells in any of the three episodes named after Lancelot - s1e5: Lancelot, s2e4: Lancelot and Guinevere, and s4e9: Lancelot du Lac).

Season 3 Episode 8: Eye of the Phoenix is the only episode in the show in which Merlin does not cast any spells. He does still perform magic in this episode via the use of his Dragonlord abilities, however these were not measured in this tally.

Merlin did not throw anyone until Season 2, where he throws Jonas against the wall in a confrontation in Episode 5: The Beauty and the Beast I. The first time he threw anyone nonverbally was in Episode 13 of the same season, The Last Dragonlord, when, in a fit of anguish, he instinctively threw and killed the soldier who had just stabbed Balinor. In general his combat strategy tends towards using the environment (dropping tree branches, chandeliers, slamming doors) or the opponent's own equipment (heating sword hilts, breaking saddles, pushing weaponry against their will) against them rather than brute force, though he does transition more toward throwing in the later seasons. By the end of the series, he had used spells to throw people, either verbally or nonverbally, 24 times, still less than Morgana despite his head-start.

He cast his highest amount of spells in s4 (69) and his lowest amount in s5 (52).

Merlin used magic to do his chores 9 times on screen.

The lovely @arrowlovesdragons asked that I note how many of Merlin's spells were for Arthur, which I did and subsequently turned into this graph:

The most common characters included in "Other" were Gwen and Gaius, Morgana in the earlier seasons, and very notably in s2 (hence the large increase), Freya. Any spells Merlin did for Uther were counted under "Camelot".

Or, if you want a simplified version (wherein I factored "Others" as Merlin's own desires, and "Camelot" as being for Arthur):

TL;DR when Merlin said "I use it for you, Arthur, only for you." he was blatantly lying. That being said, he still devotes almost half of all of his magic to just Arthur. In s5 when he makes that statement, it's more than half. Considering Balinor told Merlin that he is magic itself... well. Merlin wasn't too far off.

Morgana

Morgana is the second most prolific caster in the show, casting 59 spells (11.5%) across the 25 episodes she is magically active in for an average of exactly 2.36 spells per episode. She has the highest proportion of accidental casts in the show, the first in Season 1 Episode 12: To Kill the King, wherein her touch activates the Mage Stone, and the other 5 in Season 2 Episode 3: The Nightmare Begins, where she casts magic in a panic after being woken by nightmares.

The aforementioned artefact activation in Season 1 is her first specific usage of magic in the show, and if you would prefer not to count that, then the also-aforementioned panic-magic are her first spells.

Morgana had the highest proportion of magic intended for violence by a very large margin. 34 of her 59 spells (57.6%) were intended to cause harm to others (harm to others for the purpose of protecting someone not included - this is why Merlin's stat for this is so much lower). She also used throwing as her chosen method of combat magic more than anyone else in the series, throwing people a total of 25 times (38.5% of all person-throwing in the show). The first person she threw was Merlin in Season 3 Episode 5: The Crystal Cave.

In Morgana's final episode - Season 5 Episode 13: The Diamond of the Day II, where she casts 5 spells - her last four spells are used to hurt or kill others, but her first was to protect Mordred (albeit by killing the soldiers around him). All the way at the end, she still truly cared for someone.

Other High Priestesses and Servants of the Old Religion

Nimueh is the first recurring magic user, aside from Merlin, to appear in the show. She mostly uses her magic to be malicious and evil, but does take Merlin to the Isle of the Blessed and gives him water from the cup of life with which to heal Arthur. Her intentions around this are never made clear.

Despite 70% of her spells being used explicitly for harm, she never directly attacks someone until Episode 13, where she launches two fireballs at Merlin. It is also interesting to note that she is one of very few villains who never attacks Arthur. Her malice was always focussed on Uther and his kingdom, not misdirected towards his son.

Throughout her time on screen, Morgause was a formidable enemy. In her first appearance (Season 2 Episode 8: Sins of the Father) she performs 4 spells. She is the first person to enchant an animal (discounting Edwin Muirden's Elanthia Beetles because they operated more like magical items than natural animals) and is linked to both of Ygraine's appearances, with the spirit she raised in s2e8 and the mandrake root she enchanted in the first two episodes of Season 3. Like many more experienced magic users in the series, she relied heavily on enchantments to weave complex and manipulative webs of magic rather than brute force violence. In Season 2, she actually doesn't use magic for direct violence at all. The Knights of Medhir, who were meant to carry out violence on her behalf, were only shown to be responsible for the deaths of the knights Arthur took with him to inspect the fortress in the beginning of the episode. They did not kill anyone in Camelot.

That being said, she can be extremely violent when she so chooses. The first person she acts against directly is one of Cenred's guards, who gets little further than drawing his sword before she has thrown him across the room and through a table. In that very same episode, her soldiers knock Merlin out (for several hours), and she subsequently binds him in magical chains and leaves him for the serkets. Very friendly. Catching up on the violence I see.

Most of the other creatures and messengers of the old religion are bound to a specific purpose. Anhora, the keeper of the unicorns, only ever deals with matters dealing with unicorns. Grettir and the Cailleach are gateway spirits. None of them get to do many spells because, within their purview, there just isn't a need for it. The Disir do slightly more, but only slightly.

Fun fact, those were the only four I categorised under "Messengers of the Old Religion" in my spreadsheets. Anhora is from Season 1 and so cannot count towards this, however the other three are post-Gwaine, and all three of them use a spell to get Gwaine to lay off threatening them. For Grettir and the Cailleach, it is their only spell. The Disir's only other spell is summoning the rune mark that got them into the situation in the first place. That is a 100% pissed-off-by-Gwaine rate among the spirits of the old religion. I'm sure Merlin would be thrilled (he was there for all of them).

All of them seem to believe in Arthur's potential, but they are not as assured of his fate as Kilgharrah leads Merlin to believe they should be. The Dochraid -- who I included as a Magical Creature and not a spirit -- chooses to support Morgana and quite actively opposes Arthur, despite being a creature aware of Emrys, and, you would think, probably the prophecies too. She's not alone in this. That being said, the Cailleach seemed to derive some joy out of Morgana's fear in 4x01, and did refuse Merlin's sacrifice. To me, this shows that at no point in the show did the old religion itself "pick a side" in the war, it was only ever up to Merlin, Morgana, and Arthur to prove who was right.

I don't have interesting magic stats about these characters for you because they were usually too busy dealing with Gwaine to do any actual magic. My apologies.

Mordred

Mordred did very very little magic throughout his time on screen, especially in Season 5. In his three child episodes, he performs exactly one spell in each of them. The first is an instinctive reaction to Cerdan's execution in Season 1 Episode 8: The Beginning of the End, shattering Morgana's mirror with a mental scream, and the other two are both violent actions of self-defense when surrounded by Camelot soldiers. Poor kid.

As an adult, Mordred performs only three spells.

He throws Morgana at the Cauldron of Arianrhod after Merlin abandons him to deal with her on his own (5x09),

He screams, out loud this time, and absolutely destroys the dungeons around him as a reaction to Kara's execution (5x11), and

He performs the only cooperative spell in the entire show, wherein he and Morgana combine their powers to launch a gigantic fireball at Stowell (5x12).

As a child, he was built up as someone with a great deal of power dealing with an incredibly hostile world. We were led to believe he would grow into someone dangerous, perhaps matching even Merlin's calibre of sorcery. Mordred ended up growing into a world in which he suppressed his magic for the sake of laying low and fitting in, but when he used his power, he was unstoppable.

Sorry for the break from the stats there, there just isn't a lot to say about Mordred statistically, except that the only spell he ever performs verbally is that final one he does with Morgana. All of his personal magic usage is done without incantations, and half of it is pure instinct. It's understandable why Merlin was so afraid of him.

Guest Characters

These are characters who only appeared in one episode (double-parters not-withstanding) (or in Alator's case only cast magic in one episode).

The highest casting guest character was Edwin Muirden, who cast 9 spells in s1e6: A Remedy to Cure All Ills.

The lowest casting guest characters were Anhora (1x11), Cornelius Sigan (2x01), Jonas (2x05), Balinor (2x13), Taliesin (3x05), the Sidhe Elder who attacked Merlin in his chambers (3x06), Grettir (3x08), the Cailleach (4x02), Lochru the Vates (5x01), and Ari (5x12), who all cast only one spell in their on-screen appearances.

The median was represented by all the characters who cast 2 spells in their on-screen appearances: Sophia (1x07), Aulfric (1x07), Cerdan (1x08), Tauren (1x12), Alice (3x09), and Osgar (5x05).

Honorary mention to the only two on-screen sorcerers who went unnamed in BBC Merlin, both of whom were vendors who sold their enchanted items to extremely-obviously-evil people and were immediately killed. R.I.P these guys (1x02 and 3x04):

(There were other magic users who went unnamed, but they weren't human: the goblin in 3x03, the troll in 2x05 and 2x06 -- "Lady Catrina" was her DISGUISE -- , the Diamair -- more of a title than a name --, and from 4x08 you could argue 'Lamia' is her species and not her name, but she does introduce herself by that.)

Episodes

The episode with the highest amount of spells was Season 5, Episode 13: The Diamond of the Day II with 19 spells cast. This was split between Merlin, who contributed 14, and Morgana, who contributed 5.

The runner up was Season 1, Episode 1: The Dragon's Call with 17 spells cast. This is split between Merlin, who casted 12 times, and Mary Collins, who casted 5 times.

The episode with the lowest amount of spells was Season 5, Episode 11: The Drawing of the Dark with only 2 spells cast. This was split between Merlin and Mordred, who each casted once. Mordred's spell was instinctive, a wave of destruction following his anguish at Kara's death.

There were 2 other episodes that shared such a low count. The first is Season 1 Episode 11: The Labyrinth of Gedref. Anhora's teleportation and the curse itself both were not counted as no deliberate spells were involved. One of this episode’s spells didn't even happen on screen, we only saw it being cast (Merlin used magic to kill the rat in Arthur's chambers, though we never saw exactly how). The second is Season 2 Episode 2: The Once and Future Queen.

The median was represented by all the episodes which had 7 spells to their name, listed as follows. s1e8: The Beginning of the End, s2e11: The Witch's Quickening, s3e4: Gwaine, s3e5: The Crystal Cave, s3e9: Love in the Time of Dragons, s4e2: The Darkest Hour II, s4e12: The Sword in the Stone I, and s5e8: The Hollow Queen.

As a bonus: The most common spell value per episode (the mode if we're talking stats, which we are) was 5. 10 out of the show's 65 episodes (15.4%) contained exactly 5 spells.

The average spell count per episode was 7.88.

Spells

The most common type of spell cast in the entirety of Merlin was Telekinesis in both verbal and nonverbal forms. It comprised 108 spells, or 21.14% of all spells shown on screen. That being said, if you separate verbal and nonverbal forms, the nonverbal Telekinesis becomes the second highest usage of magic, and the verbally incanted Object Manipulation becomes the fifth. It is bearing that separation in mind that I give you the following spell type top 3:

Enchantment. The big catch-all. 97 spells, 18.98% This is a big one, it accounts for every spell targeted on an object or a creature, provided they didn't belong to other categories*. It included enchanting poppets, amulets, bracelets, potions. It included all the love-spells, applied directly or not. It included the one other instance of mind-control, it included the GPS function Morgause installed in Arthur's horse, it included the spell Merlin used to clean the stain off Arthur's shirt. It included Morgana's blatant Darth-Vader rip-off force choking, and plenty of other things. Huge catch-all, very common. Merlin used enchantments 46 times.

Telekinesis. Classic. Non-verbal only. 62 spells, 12.13%

Elemental. Also classic. Verbal only. 61 spells, 11.94% This is another category that is split between verbal and nonverbal. If you combine both types of elemental spells, it comes out as 86 spells total (16.83%). The vast majority of this is flame and heat magic, but Merlin also uses wind several times throughout the show (he's the only one to do this) and, on occasion (literally only where his loved ones -- Arthur -- are in mortal peril -- 1x13 and 5x13 only), lightning. He is known to be able to cause rockfalls (also done by only Merlin) and precisely one time causes a full-scale earthquake. No one uses commands elemental water magic at any point in the show (spirits who happen to live in lakes/rivers doing magical things do not count, it has to be related to the water. Merlin does use magic related to water a couple times, but it was always categorised under other things).

Honourable mention to Violent Telekinesis, the term I used for the nonverbal "throwing people" spell, which came in 4th with 51 spells (9.98%). It's higher if you combine it with its verbal form, which I literally had to title Throwing (14 spells, 2.74%). That means that on 65 instances was magic used to throw people with an intention of causing harm, which averages out to exactly once per episode.

* There were two types of spells that were definitely enchantments but which I chose to separate into their own categories. The first of these is Artefact Activation, which is when a spell is used to activate a magical item that has already been enchanted. A good example of this would be the entirety of Gilli's magic, all of which was done via the use of an already-magical ring. Another good example is in s4e5: His Father's Son, when Morgana uses a nonverbal spell to activate the curse she placed on Arthur's sword the night before. The other of these categories is self-explanatorily named Locking/Unlocking, and I separated it simply because it was so common and I was curious.

Seasons

Seasons 3 and 4 are tied for most amount of spells cast, each with 108 spells in their 13 episodes. Season 1 has the least, with only 96. Overall, the show was pretty consistent with the amount of magic it did, with the average sitting mostly within the 7.5-8.5 range at any given time whilst I was constructing these tallies. The top five episodes of the entire show are a perfect distribution action the seasons, with one episode from each (1st. 5x13, 2nd. 1x01, 3rd. 4x06, 4th. 2x03, 5th. 3x06).

Season 4 has the highest lowest-episode spell count at 4, whereas s1, s2, and s5 have their lowest at 2, and s3's lowest has 3.

Most of the data on the spreadsheets were not organised by Season, though many of my physical tallies were. If you're interested in how the seasons compare, send me an ask or a message and I'll happily fish that information out for you. Otherwise, most of the data about the individual seasons has already been uploaded under other posts, so I won't make this section any longer.

Fun/Opinions

I'll do my narrative analyses later on a separate post, but just know it's so important to me that the top two episodes are the finale and the pilot, and the lowest is The Drawing of the Dark. At the top, two episodes that are so quintesentially about a magic boy in a world where his powers are desperately needed, Merlin (Arthur) at his very beginning and at his end, and at the bottom an episode that really was not about magic at all. The story of Kara's death was never a story of magic. She was not condemned for her sorcery, she was condemned for her murder. She was both caught and treated like any other criminal. 5x11 is fundamentally about people, about loyalty, about how our choices shape us. Mordred saw it as if it was about magic, and it was this misunderstanding which turned him away from Arthur for good.

Anyway. Silly spells (with references)!!

Merlin trips Arthur twice in the first episode.

Merlin successfully lures guards away from their posts using dice in the first episode. The second time he's shown using telekinesis on dice is when he's cheating in a gambling game against Arthur in 5x12.

Merlin uses barrels to distract guards on two separate occasions (2x04, 4x10). On the first one, he knocks them out.

Merlin slows time four times throughout the show (1x01, 1x07, 3x06). One of them is in order to observe Grundhilda's massive purple frog tongue.

Merlin uses magic to wind a rope discreetly up his pant leg and around his torso (2x08). This has a verbal incantation, which means someone either made a spell for this, which would be absurd, or Merlin is bastardising the hell out of someone's real actual sorcery that they wrote down formally.

Merlin once uses magic to put a princess to sleep and stuff her into a cupboard, which he then seals shut with magic as well (2x10).

Merlin uses magic to pull down people's pants. Twice. It works perfectly for his plans both times (3x07, 4x04).

Morgana also has an elderly disguise (5x04)!!

Sorry that they were mostly all about Merlin, everyone else in this show is so serious about magic. For other magic users who get silly with it, just rewatch Season 3 Episode 3: Goblin's Gold. I couldn't make up half the things that guy does.

I do have Fun/Vibes as a 'Purpose' category. It's populated mostly by Merlin, but also by the Goblin (3x03), Edwin Muirden (who lights a flame in the opening shot of the episode for the purpose of looking spooky and magic to the audience, and also who does some telekinesis just to show off to Merlin) (1x06), and Gilli (who activates his ring once in the opener of the episode purely for the benefit of signalling that it's magic to the audience) (3x11).

And no, I'm still not over the toad in s2e7: The Witchfinder, and I'm certainly not over the use of the Sidhe staff as a TAZER in s3e6: The Changeling (See the posts for Season 2 and Season 3 for elaboration on those).

Data

I am human, I have biases and make mistakes, I oversimplify things, I have a preference for viewing certain characters in certain ways. If you thought I was disingenuous, or wasn't clear enough, or have some other issue with this post, or otherwise are curious, the raw data I collected is now yours!!

Do with it as you wish. If you do end up using any of this for something, I would really appreciate a credit. This took me a very long time to put together.

Tally A list, with descriptions, of every spell in Merlin by episode.

Spreadsheets The numerical data in a variety of different tables and graphs.

Please note that I know there are mistakes in this dataset and I will be continuously working on fixing those. If you have need of the data, always refer back to the original post/document/spreadsheet. Reblogs do not update when previous posts are edited.

If you notice a mistake, even a minor one, please let me know!! And if you have any questions, I would be more than happy to answer them. Thank you for your time <3 I really, really appreciate it.

#bbc merlin #tallies

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questionablecuttlefish · 2 months ago

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What are your thougths on sg lc?

Thoughts? I have no thoughts, only 🩷❤️.

Ok, thoughts, um...

Seriously, I am not a diehard magical girl fan, but SG Lightcannon is just PEAK. It's a simple trope done well, the childhood friends with contrasting personalities navigating the stormy shoals of teenage drama and fighting evil by Starlight.

Lux is the optimistic, conscientious but uncertain young Heroine leader struggling with the weight of responsibility on her shoulders and Jinx is the hothead maverick tsundere Lancer who doesn't gel with the team or care much about the mission but is ferociously devoted to a special someone who may not fully understand how she feels.

With the lore implication that if Jinx ever fully breaks from the team she could risk succumbing to darkness, that it's her deep devotion to for Lux that holds her to the light.

And the implication in her bio that Jinx became a Star Guardian in order to protect and stay with Lux is just achingly romantic. It might be just a LITTLE gay to take an eternally binding oath to fight in a magical girl war for your totally-platonic-childhood-bestie, am I right?

And the music video is so ludicrously sapphic. Lightcannon existed as a ship before Star Guardian but SG kicked the ignition and launched it into the stars.

And then, I think, Riot panicked about people shipping their poster girls so hard they had to throw Ezreal in just to "NO HOMO HONEST" and I fucking hate it.

Star Guardian Ezreal pretty much exists just to fulfill a shallow Tuxedo Mask role he doesn't earn and that's it. He's just there to kill the ship, he has no role in the story other than this, no personality, no background, far less character than any other Ezreal in other skinlines with far less lore meat than Star Guardian.

It's just so transparent. He's just there to be Lux's comphet maybe-boyfriend, and they don't even commit to that - the two exchange one flirty dialogue that is interrupted by a jealous Jinx during the camping story and never actually interact again, despite the occasional art crumb.

Any other developments are left to the imagination or never actually happened. Jinx interacts with him more, and they fight as a decent team in the Twilight Star battle, so they seem to have buried whatever rivalry they might've had, but SG Ezlux and the potential love triangle never actually amounts to a story.

As far as I'm concerned, suqling's half-finished SG comics are the true canon filling in the blanks and I'll leave it at that 🩷❤️

Star Guardian 2022 then promptly threw it all out the window, replacing Lux's team with Kai'Sa's without ever giving them any closure, not on their mission, on the Lux/Ezreal/Jinx love triangle, or even on the characters' survival.

It was so abrupt and so stupidly vague that half the fandom thinks Star Guardian Lux is dead or petrified into a statue somehow based on the trailer showing her transferring leadership role to Kai'Sa and one throwaway line in the visual novel about Kai'Sa 'not wanting to end up a statue like Lux.'

You'd be forgiven for thinking it, but, no, Lux explicitly sent Nilah to look out for Kai'Sa's team and her statue is a commemorative statue built in the square after Zoe's defeat, and Jinx is out there flying around in LoR with some of their team members rescuing SG Gwen from a space kraken.

There's crumbs that Lux might have ascended into some higher station and that's why she's not in the story anymore but it's so absurdly vague, again, there's nothing concrete to go on.

So if the story of Star Guardian Lux and her team just ends there, it's a missed opportunity, and I'm still mad about the stifling of the lesbian subtext.

I want to like 2022 SG's characters, but all I can see is how Lightcannon's story was stolen from them and given to Kai'Sa/Akali, and yes, I am bitter.

SG Lightcannon tiptoed so SG KaiKali could fly.

#lightcannon #lux #jinx #jinx x lux #lux x jinx #star guardian #star guardian jinx #star guardian lux #star guardian lightcannon #luxanna crownguard #lol jinx #league of legends

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whydon-twego · 1 year ago

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Arthur holds Gwen's hands in his as he looks into her eyes, smiling blissfully.

Geoffry is speaking, enunciating the wedding vows while Arthur does not for a moment move his gaze from Gwen's, his wife. His queen.

Merlin watches them from the front row of people who have come to witness the royal wedding and cannot suppress the bitter line of his mouth as he watches the couple exchange a kiss to seal the pact.

Arthur's lips, Merlin, know them well.

He knew them until a few weeks before. He has known them for years as both their mouths descended to learn new lines of bodies not yet known, as, both inexperienced, they pleasured each other, and as Arthur's lips lied, enunciating words like I love you and nothing can keep us apart.

Merlin remembers Arthur's lisp perfectly.

He remembers perfectly when he cried after confessing to being a sorcerer and Arthur's lips wiped away those tears, he remembers the color of Arthur's eyes as he told him that it didn't matter, that it was still them, that they would get through anything.

I love you is the most painful thing to remember.

Merlin watches Arthur raise his wife's hand in front of all of Camelot, with the kingdom cheering them on, and Merlin can only think that Arthur, like everyone else, has lied to him.

There is no such thing as fate, not being the other side of the same coin.

Kilgharrah has lied to him ever since he met him, with his ridiculous wisecracks and ramblings without ever telling things as they were.

Gaius lied to him, telling him that one day he would be recognised for what he was, that everything would be fine.

Arthur lied to him. Proclaiming words of love, of devotion, only to abandon him without even a second glance in his direction. Poisoning his mind and heart by making him believe they would have all the time in the world together.

Merlin is tired of fine words.

Merlin is tired of a fate on his shoulders that did nothing but destroy him all those years.

Merlin will no longer be beguiled by sweet words, by broken promises.

Merlin, when the ceremony is over, leaves. He raises a barrier of protection because there are still people he cares about in Camelot and then leaves that place forever.

Now he is free, without Destiny and without lies, his heart broken into a thousand pieces that no one will ever be able to heal.

He only hopes that, in the end, it was all worth it.

#angst #merlin fic #merthur fic #merthur #arwen #merlin emrys #arthur pendragon #gwen pendragon #merlin prompt #merlin bbc #bbc merlin #merthur fanfic #merlin fanfic #my writing

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mewtwoandme · 8 months ago

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I just realised something, you said at one point that Gwen is Mandy's emotional support Pokemon (or something along those lines) so how are things going to go for them when Gwen and Jeo get married? Would things be the same as they were before, would Gwen move in and Mandy stays at her own place or something else completely?

They won't be living together.

Hate to break it to some of ya but it won't be your typical marriage arrangement where they move in together XD Because yes, Gwen is an emotional support pokemon to Mandy, she isn't just her partner pokemon, she provides companionship and helps with Mandy's depression and anxiety, Gwen wouldn't just up and leave her, as much as she's devoted to Jericho she's also loyal to Mandy. If ya'll know the lore behind Gardevoirs and how strong their bonds are to their trainers/partners, need I explain more?

And before I get asks like "Well what if her and Mandy both move in?" Suuuure...let's just have EVERYONE live under Lakota's roof while we're at it lol. Lakota already has 3 big psychic cats and the family's still growing, that's why I plan on them getting a bigger house later on. The house will be crowded enough when the kids get bigger. I imagine having 7 under one roof would be a bit much

#answered ask #laina-danger

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tteokdoroki · 2 years ago

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☆༉ — KATSUKI BAKUGOU. in every other universe.

about. “in every other universe, gwen stacey falls for spiderman. and in every other universe, it doesn’t end well.” - inspired by this bkg art @/kingkatsuki sent me and by self love.

warnings. none. fluff, slight angst, happy ending, across the spiderverse spoilers, spiderverse!bakugou & fem!reader.

once you know that you’re not the only one out there — it’s hard to go back to your regular life. not everyone can do the things that katsuki bakugou can do, you know, shoot webs, fight crime and save the day. it’s isolating. it’s lonely. he knows that he should feel blessed, it’s not every day that you’re given superhuman abilities and the power to change the world.

some days the truth about his identity, the words ‘i’m spiderman.’ sit eagerly on the tip of his tongue — desperate to be pushed out into open and heard by the people he loves. his mom, his dad, even his stupid roommate, kirishima. but if bakugou burdens them with the truth, then he puts them at risk too. losing his childhood friend deku had been more than enough, he couldn’t lose someone else too.

other days he remembers there are others just like him, dotted across the universe in their own connections and constellations — there’s his mentor, there’s his friends… there’s you. it’s been a year since your world’s were once able to collide and bakugou has tried (and failed) to move on from you and devote himself to saving the day. your smile, your eyes, your drive, your bravery — he would be stupid to purposely forget all of that.

he’s also a little weird for kicking back in his desk chair, mindlessly spinning around his dorm room (after patching himself up where katsuki had just gotten his ass kicked) thinking about the curve of your lips and how your voice sounds when you speak…

“hey katsuki! katsuki… wanna hangout?”

in surprise, the blonde tips backwards in his seat, bakugou’s back hitting the floor with a harsh thud that causes pain to blossom somewhere along his shoulder blades. “what the fuck?” he grunts through a stream of colourful curses. he must be imagining things. crushing too hard on someone he’s not supposed to ever be able to see again. you can’t be here. it’s not physically possible.

but through his searing pain and frustrated hisses, bakugou manages to crack a ruby red eye open — letting his gaze bare witness to the swirling, bright portal in his ceiling and the girl he’s still hung up over just peeking through.

he really has to watch out for those punches to the head — he’s going insane.

“what the actual fuck?”

amused laughter streams from between your lips, muffled slightly by the signature piece of a spider-person’s consume. you pull back the mask of your spider-suit which don the colours of your universe and grin. bright and beautiful. it makes bakugou’s heart squeeze in his chest. “dang, you kiss your mother with that mouth?” you tease, letting the web that holds you up sink further out of the portal until you’re hanging just above the foul-mouthed blonde. “good to see you too, hot shot.”

“what— how are y’even here?” bakugou sits up, fighting the twitches in his face and the real meaning to words on the tip of his tongue. i missed you.

your face tells the story he longs too, your pretty eyes nostalgic and warm. you’ve missed him as well. “oh you know, just thought i’d swing by.”

“that was fuckin’ terrible.”

“come on, katsuki, you liked it.” i like you. is what he really wants to say back.

he can practically feel your breathy laughter on his lips and taste your vanilla perfume. hanging upside down and in front of him is way too compromising of a position — he might kiss you if he’s not careful.

“fuckin’ dumbass.” bakugou puts a hand on your face and uses it to push you away before you can get any closer. you lose your balance, coming crashing down from the ceiling once your web snaps and the portal closes. he’s quick to crawl over to you, not evening thinking about boundaries or space… not when there’s been entire universes and timelines between you up until this moment. “shit, you okay? forgot how clumsy you were.”

he utters fondly, mostly under his breath — in a way that’s impossible to miss with how bakugou leans over you. his face full of bursting concern. you don’t dare to move, taking in said face. observing how much it’s changed since you were last on earth-420. how his eyes are harder, less youthful but still wild. how his lips look softer, fuller — you wonder what chapstick he’s been using. how his chin is stronger and his face more defined and his nose slightly shifted and—

“you’re no different than before, still a meanie.” you quip, voice wistful. quiet. “you grew out your hair.” reaching up, you brush your fingers over the soft tips of his ash blonde locks — closing your eyes at the feel of them, as if you’re basking in sunlight.

“yeah.” bakugou hums. “yours is different too.”

“you think? do you like it?”

“‘f’course.” he keens into your touch as it cascades down to his cheeks. “you always look good.”

“you haven’t seen me in a while.”

“doesn’t mean i don’t think about you.”

“ah…me too.”

“y’think about me?”

a beat of silence passes and you don’t speak for a while. you’re both afraid you might hear each other’s hearts racing. “ever since i jumped back into that collider.” rolling out from underneath katsuki, you sit up with your back to him and fiddle with your spandex mask. “let’s go for a swing.”

you’re up and throwing open his dorm window before bakugou can even register — leaving him to deal with his erratic pulse and pink kissed cheeks. it’s crazy how time apart made him only want you more. how he can’t have you because you’re not even meant to be here, even if there’s some kind of gravitational force from the universe pulling you together. when you don’t hear him coming after you, you turn to face him from the window ledge — he can see the longing even in the reflective lenses of your suit.

“you coming?”

bakugou’s entire body screams at him to say yes, every fibre of his being itching to be with you. but his one fatal flaw keeps him rooted in place on his knees. he can’t hurt you. can't tell you his feelings knowing he’ll never have a way of acting on them.

“can’t, got homework.” he shrugs, feigning nonchalance. “i’m a college kid now, remember?”

he can already tell that you’re rolling your eyes from under the mask even when you shrug back — tipping yourself out of the window, knowing that he’ll chase you. bakugou watches you, half amused, half annoyed as you stand up straight and defy all laws of everything by sticking to the side of his dorm building.

“does Spider-Man have homework?”

all he can do is shake his head at you. both in amusement and in disbelief.

talking to you eases all the tension katsuki bakugou’s shoulders bare.

it’s easy to be with you because you understand what it’s like to be alone in protecting the people you love and the communities you care about. hiding your face and cowering away from friends and family in the real world — every day life. you get why wearing the mask is both a blessing and a curse. it cost you your mother’s love. it cost you your home. and now you surf through universes to find your place amongst the other spider people that exist… and yet, katsuki, as you confess — is the only one to bring you comfort.

whilst swinging and soaring through the streets of katsuki’s city, you tell him all of the nitty gritty details. no one wants a vigilante for a daughter. he holds his tongue in telling you that he wants you instead. you giggle when you explain to him all the worlds you’ve seen and people you’ve met through being apart of this elite spider-team. and when bakugou asks how a pipsqueak like you managed to get in before he did — you cock your head to the side innocently and say…

“you’re an asshole, katsuki. we can’t have you clashing with the number one in charge.”

bakugou has to pull his mask up to breathe while he laughs — snorting so hard that he almost misses a stride while swinging through the sunset-stained streets with you. by the time golden hour sets it’s sights upon you both, he’s taken you to the highest point in musutafu to watch the sun disappear beyond the horizon.

when the world gets him down — katsuki comes up here to think and clear his head of any doubts that might be holding him back. it’s peaceful up here, away from the crime cracking on below and the bustling mundane city traffic. often times, he thinks of you too…so sharing this spot with you by his side is extremely intimate to him.

you’re talking but bakugou will admit he’s not really listening, too entranced by the shapes your lips form around each word, at least until you say his name. “you’re the only one who’s ever, truly got me, katsuki.” you tell him, swinging your feet off the ledge of the building. if you fall, your instincts would catch you…but you know katsuki would be the first to save you.

“could say the same thing about you.” he admits, the burnt orange spider crest on his chest heaving with bakugou’s nervous sigh. he pinches at the black latex suit covering his fingers — debating on inching his hand closer to yours.

if you notice, you don’t say anything about it. “in every other universe, spiderman gets the girl.” katsuki swallows as you speak, ruby eyes darting all over your pretty face outlined by warm tone natural lights — your masks long discarded. “and in every other universe…it doesn’t end well. for either of them.”

you don’t bother finishing your sentence, swallowing the lump in your throat along with the fate you might meet if you lean into your greed to be with katsuki. it’s only then that you notice his hand slipping away, retreating behind the wall he builds up around himself — to keep himself closed off and protected from getting hurt.

“i wish i could change that.” he mumbles distantly, looking out at the world, the universe as if he’s been scorned. cursed by the mask once more. it’s like the stars have turned against him and are mocking him as they come out to play — reminding bakugou that everyone he’s ever loved will get hurt because of him…eventually. everyone including you. “prove ‘em wrong, yanno?”

even still, he offers you his signature lazy smirk and twinkling mischievous red eyes and you can’t help but fall for him all over again.

“yeah,” comes your soft reply. “maybe there’s a chance that things can work out.”

“a first time for everythin’, yeah?”

this time, neither of you pull back as your head comes to rest on his shoulder.

for a moment, the world stills. freezing time for the only two people in the universe may truly understand one another.

freezing, for you and katsuki.

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kimnowls · 1 month ago

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(this one has been sitting in the drafts for a while. It's a bit of a crack theory, but since tomorrow is the new Cassette Beast announcement and it looks like Sunny is gonna be involved, I wanted to put this out there. Juuuuuust on the off chance I'm on to something.)

(spoilers: Eugene's quest, Kayleigh's quest, Felix's quest, postgame stuff, Pier of the Unknown DLC)

The ingame bio for Mammon states, "Its Landkeepers are hollow vessels, shells given autonomy from its vast well of power." But where did those vessels come from? And we know they aren't completely hollow, given that Sunny was able to find a new life outside of her Archangel overlord. Consider one of the three possibilities:

1: Mammon created the Landkeepers. Mammon is the archangel of capitalism, and if (IF) he had the ability to create an army of mindlessly devoted followers, he would. However, in Pier of the Unknown, Gwen seems to imply that Archangels are incapable of true creation like humans are. Maybe she was just talking about herself, (Archangel of Illusion, unable to make anything that lasts), but that revelation ties into her fascination with humans. The other "creations" we've seen of archangels are either temporary entities as well (like the Nowhere Peasants), or are stated to be converted matter (Poppetox's effigies). But making tangible, independent beings is probably outside of the wheelhouse of most Archangels. I know Morgante and Aleph may have "created" Mordread, but that's a whole other can of worms I'm not getting into that here. Let's just leave it at "Archangels might be capable of creation but I have other ideas."

2: The Landkeepers were ordinary humans who got corrupted by Mammon. Through Gwen, we've seen the extent to which humans can be corrupted by Archangels. Not pretty. One could say the Landkeepers got off easy by comparison. It is a bit weird though when you compare Mammon's actions to Mourningstar's. Mourningstar is supposedly the Archangel of devotion. If anyone was going to corrupt humans to the point that they can hardly function without their leader's influence, you'd think it'd be the Serpent God. However, we see Mourningtown swing back pretty quickly from the loss of their god. None of them become listless zombies like Sunny. While Vin remains loyal to Mourningstar long after he's gone, he snaps out of it pretty seamlessly once things are cleared up. The mechanics of corruption are pretty unclear, and perhaps a matter of personal preference to each individual Archangel. (It's possible that Mourningstar sees more value in freely given worship, while Mammon is all about results).

The other thing is, Mammon is not the Archangel of the Landkeepers: he's the Archangel of capitalism, which could take many forms. Medical insurance, mass production, environmental exploitation… why the focus on property acquisition?

3: The New Wirral Landkeepers were born from Eugene's imagination, and Mammon adopted them. Eugene has a lot of hatred towards the Landkeepers of his own world, but I think it unlikely that he's ever actually met one. Those Landkeepers Eugene knew from history books, and accounts of revolutionaries who survived the mid-century upheaval. When your only perspective of a person is through the heartless organization they served, you're going to have a flat image of them. A caricature, one could say.

Oh hey, isn't New Wirral a place where one can meet fictional characters? Like Kuneko, Viola, and Robin Goodfellow?

This, to me, is Eugene's monkey paw wish come true. He grew up after all or most of the action was over. He dreams of being a big hero, but a hero needs villains to fight. So when he goes to New Wirral and just so happens to meet the very boogeymen that he so badly wants to punch? Yeah, I don't think that's a coincidence.

Plus, imagine how much of a slap in the face that would be, finding out that your greatest enemies exist only because you made them? Imagine finding out that YOU were born just to feed some guys ego? Fucking ouch, I love it!

#cassette beasts #cassette beasts spoilers #theory #fanfic fuel #eugene cassette beasts #sunny cassette beasts #mammon cassette beasts

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gemgdynamxght · 2 months ago

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Merthur has a farm life dream and Mitski wrote it…

“It's beautiful out today, I wish you could take me upstate”

I’m envisioning Arthur by his desk but sat facing the window and Merlin stood next to him. It’s a slightly warm, yet still breezy summer day. It feels like a full day rather than the miserable winter ones that drag because it’s so dark. The day’s refreshing, the sun is bright and they’re looking out the window.

Gwen told Merlin about how on her date with Arthur she was taken aback because Arthur said he practically wanted to run away with Merlin. Get a bit of farmland and take Merlin with him. It shows how Arthur craves the freedom and lack of duty.

Merlin brought it up afterwards in a teasing manner and Arthur gets flustered and tells him to shut up. Merlin turns soft, yet serious for a moment and says he thinks it’s beautiful and he’d love to do something like that. Then starts the teasing manner again suddenly and says something stupid about responsibility and chores.

“To the little place you would tell me about, when you'd sense that I want to escape”

Ever since then, when Merlin can tell Arthur is tense or stressed or feeling insecure about not being enough or feeling insecure and thinking that he’s not being good enough for his people, Merlin will reassure him.

He’ll say what he usually says about being the greatest king Albion has ever known but he also brings up the farm and it evolves into a dream of a little house with a pond as well and other things.

Today is the kind of beautiful, warming day they imagine their haven would feel like every day. They’re both silently thinking of it in unison without saying anything.

“Texas is a landlocked state, it's a little bit far away from the water from the home that I've wanted to make”

Arthur suddenly speaks up and points a small area on the map on his desk. His ring is glinting and sun is filtering through his hair. Merlin thinks he looks so majestic.

Obviously it’s not actually Texas, but it’d be a small quiet area in the middle of nowhere. The water is referring to the pond in their shared daydream which is ‘the home’ Arthur has ‘wanted to make’.

“It's somehow in the city”

I imagine Arthur always wanted to know what it would be like to grow up around other people and be allowed to have friends and people who have things in common around him. I’d like to think he enjoys hearing stories of Ealdor and Merlin and Will growing up.

I don’t think it’d be a city. I think it’d be slightly isolated but within travel distance of a small town with few people.

“You make it there and you make it anywhere, anywhere”

Merlin’s devoted and undivided loyalty to Arthur. It shows how no matter where Arthur goes he believes Merlin would follow.

“But I've been anywhere and it's not what I want and I wanna be still with you”

Arthur believes it doesn’t matter actually matter where he goes because wherever he ends up the only thing that matters is Merlin by his side.

He knows he wouldn’t enjoy a peasant life long after growing with everything he could ever want,minus love and companionship which is why being with Merlin is so important to him. Because Merlin helps him experience what he didn’t have growing up.

“You keep your socks on in bed, keep our hearth warm”

I guess this is the domestic bliss of them living together, away from the rest of the world. It shows how Merlin cares for Arthur. It shows how Merlin is a warm person and protects Arthur from the cold.

“See the tree shadows lie in black the pools in the lawns”

It has a deeper meaning in the actual song. It’s describing life through poetry but in this case I’d like to think of it as Merlin and Arthur, yet again, envisioned their life away from reality.

“You're the breeze in my Austin nights”

It juxtaposes the “keep our hearth warm” line, yet it’s so beautiful. I think Austin is warm (i wouldn’t know, I’ve never been but I assume it is.) and it shows that Merlin in a refresher for Arthur when he’s caught up in the heat and responsibilities of life. Merlin is Arthur’s cold breeze in the blistering heat.

I’m thinking of writing this as a oneshot rather than an analysis. The song is called “Texas Reznikoff” By Mitski. 🫶🏼🫶🏼

#i will probably write a oneshot on this #bbc merlin #merlin #merlin x arthur #magic #merlin fandom #merthur #music #mitski #song lyrics #song analysis #Texas Reznikoff #arthur pendragon #domestic fluff #fluff #merthur fluff

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mikashisus · 4 months ago

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THUS ALWAYS TO TYRANTS

02.5. my heart knew the weight

notes. ITS FINALLY HEREEEE!!! the chapter i spent 8 long and grueling months writing, revising, and getting frustrated over is finally here!!! i put my blood, sweat, and tears into this to make it as enjoyable and eerie as possible! if some scenes with barbatos don’t make sense, dw bc the plot will all unfold in the next few chapters! this fic is supposed to be confusing. barbatos and the mc r both unreliable narrators in their own ways - and that means u shouldn’t trust what they say, but the ppl around them (cough rukkhadevata and jean cough). the plot rlly picks up in this chapter so im super excited to see how u guys react hehe

taglist. @wystiix @pneumosia @kazuinvocation @daydreaming-paradies @gl4di0lus @pixelcafe-network

word count. 11.2k

masterlist | prev. | next

“So let me get this straight…“ Gwen said, shuffling around on the tabletop, “you and my brother went to the library together?”

She grabbed a piece of cheese from the plate resting by her thigh and popped it into her mouth, a small smirk beginning to form on her lips. “And afterwards, he showed off and offered to teach you how to wield a sword?”

You let out a small huff. “He didn’t ‘show off’, per say…” you trailed off, a smile pulling at your lips, “he was just clearing monsters from our path.”

Gwen rolled her eyes. “Same thing! I know my brother, so he was definitely showing off! After all, he was the best swordsman in Cairnfelle!”

Quirking a brow, you leaned forward, about to ask about this ‘Cairnfelle’ she mentioned, when she suddenly clapped her hands together. “So! What’d you find?” She rested her hands on her knees, dangling her foot off the edge of the table.

“Well, there wasn’t a whole lot. I ended up checking out four books. I already read through three, and so far, nothing.” You explained, thinking back to the journal you found.

There wasn’t a single thing about Barbatos in that journal. Two of the other books were origin stories— one being how Barbatos taught the birds of the world how to fly. The other book had been a written biography about Barbatos and Queen Catalina’s adventures. Although it was a thrilling read packed to the brim with suspense and laughter that made your stomach ache, it wasn’t enough.

None of the books were giving you what you wanted: information on who Barbatos really was. All the books you checked out had told of his exploits after Decarabian’s fall. There was next to nothing regarding his life before the rebellion; It was as if he hadn’t existed until recently.

And quite frankly, you were beginning to get a little frustrated. The red strings on your mental investigation board were going nowhere, connecting to nothing.

Gwen hummed thoughtfully. “So, you read through the first three. What about the last one? Any luck?”

“I haven’t read it yet.”

“How about you bring it to our home tomorrow? We can read it together!” She smiled, bright and genuine.

The proposition was an intriguing one, though you preferred to handle this crisis on your own. Gwen, as far as you were concerned, was a devout worshipper of Barbatos.

The most you told her about why you had gone to the library was that you were gathering information on a historical figure. You didn’t know the depth of her loyalty to Barbatos, and you weren’t willing to test it by explaining your true motives.

She was a kind soul, that much was true, but she could have been reminiscent of the utterly devoted nuns from the church.

(And when faced with doubtful questions about their god, they were a force to be reckoned with— an annoying pest that wouldn’t go away. A headache inducing interaction.)

Her offer was from the heart, you knew it was. That, paired with her dazzling smile, made a pool of guilt settle in your stomach. You couldn’t possibly say no, especially not to someone so kindhearted as her.

With a silent sigh, you returned her smile and nodded.

She clapped her hands together again and hopped off the table. “Great! Hopefully we luck out this time! Right?” She grabbed her now empty plate and glass and retreated back behind the bar.

The last book was a worn, battered thing that looked much older than the journal you found. An archaic symbol was etched into the front, and the pages were yellowed and ripped in some spots.

A name was inscribed into the back cover in elegant calligraphy, though part of it was smudged by a stain and you could only make out three letters.

You hadn't opened the book yet. You didn't want to— not without Gwen. After all, the whole reason you were here, sitting on a plush couch in a cozy oceanside cabin, was because she had suggested you read through the book together. However, it seemed as though she had forgotten about that proposal, as when you arrived at her home, she was nowhere to be seen.

Arbor had been the one to welcome you in. He was outside at the time, tearing some hay-filled dummies to shreds with a rickety old wooden sword that has seen better days. His skin, a warm tawny, orange-brown, glowed as the sun beat down on his figure. Sweat hung from his brow and slithered down his fully toned chest and abdomen, and you couldn't help the way your eyes trailed him for a moment, entranced.

He caught sight of you and nodded curtly, gathering up his previously discarded white shirt and wiping the sweat from his face. His auburn hair was messy, sticking up in some places. He opened the gate leading into the garden and led you into the cabin his family called home. Now, you were waiting as he fetched you a lemonade from the kitchen.

The Blair family's house was a humble old home, with paintings lining the walls and fun little knick knacks littered around on tables and shelves. There was a wall listing the entire family's achievements— from joining the royal guard, their contributions in war, rising to the ranks of elite soldiers labeled as "The Archangel Knights," and their feats during the rebellion and rebuilding of Mondstadt. It was clear to you that this family was a family of heroes.

The first floor of the house was composed of three rooms: the kitchen, the common space, and a small storage closet. The kitchen and common space were connected, the walls open and the ceilings somewhat high. A series of plants lined the windowsills and some hung from the ceiling. Flower pots filled with cecilias and windwheel asters occupied the table in front of you.

A set of stairs leading up to the second floor of the house sat to your right, with garland wrapping snugly around the banister. A faded red banner hung from one of the walls, the symbol on it unfamiliar to you. Another sat next to it, this one a newer, bright seafoam blue with a cecilia flower in the middle and gold lining the edges. Gold tassels hung from the ends, and the banner billowed gently as a passive breeze filtered in through a nearby window. All the windows were covered with white, partially see-through curtains that allowed a considerable amount of sunlight to filter through, igniting the whole house with a dazzling warmth and a lively atmosphere.

In the corner of the common space, behind the couch you were sitting on, was a rack filled with six swords, all of them varying in color, size, and shape. All six had a different colored piece of cloth tied around the hilts.

A fluffy quilt laid across the back of the couch, its colors a bright yellow, red, and blue. The pattern on it was foreign, most likely from another nation.

Arbor returned from the kitchen, placing two glasses on the low table in front of you, one yours and one his. A plate of sweet potato fritters with cinnamon sugar was placed in the middle of the table for the both of you to share. He took a seat next to you and popped one of the fritters into his mouth.

"I deeply apologize on behalf of my sister," he began, shaking his head, "honestly. She needs to learn to keep her word."

A breathless chuckle escaped your lips. "It's alright. Where is she, anyway?"

He let out a sigh. "She's on church duty today. Unfortunately, she won't be back until later in the afternoon. If you want to stay here until then, you're more than welcome to—"

You politely turned down his offer. "That's quite alright. If it's no trouble, I can come back another day."

He raised a brow and glanced at the book in your hands. You had told him when you arrived that Gwen offered to read through this final book with you. Though, now that you knew she wasn't here and had forgotten your plans in the midst of her busy schedule, the only thing you could do was return back to the city.

Arbor's eyes trailed elsewhere, calculating. His jaw was clenched and he looked deep in thought. A few moments of awkward silence passed between you before he spoke up. "I could read it with you in her stead."

That certainly wasn't an offer you were expecting, especially from him. Though, you supposed after he volunteered to go to the library with you the other day, it wasn't that surprising.

"Afterwards, we can start your lessons in swordsmanship... if that sounds enticing to you."

It did.

You nodded, a smile on your face as you opened the book and shuffled a bit closer to him. He stayed put, allowing you to enter his space a little as you placed the book between the two of you.

‘In the epic days of yore, a few thousand years ago, the heavens sprang to life and opened. The divine angels sang a magnificent choir, and trumpets announced the birth of a deity from the high heavens. This deity that would later come to be known as an influential figure in the formation of Mondstadt as a nation— the god of memories herself, ELIGOS; or more commonly known by her mortal name, Queen Catalina.

Her fascination with humans led to what many referred to as “the great mindscape,” or rather, a period of time when she had entered the minds of mortals and sifted through their memories to gain a better understanding of humans. Her fascination exceeded humans and even reached other gods…’

With furrowed brows, you stopped reading. It seemed as if this was another book to be discarded. So far, it hadn’t mentioned Barbatos at all. Though, judging by the pointed look on Arbor's face, you decided to keep reading.

It was then that you noticed how close the two of you had gotten.

This close, you could see his features better. Focused, striking gray eyes with lavender bags underneath that you hadn’t noticed before, a hooked nose, smooth pink lips that were pursed together, and a perfectly sculpted jawline. The light filtering in from the window touched his skin, casting an ethereal glow upon him.

He looked like a god.

You had never seen a real god in your entire life up until you arrived in this era. Witnessing what true divinity looked like right before your very eyes had stirred something within you. It was revitalizing in a way you couldn’t fully describe nor understand.

And now, as you looked at Arbor, you could feel your heart beating just a little faster and your breath get caught in your throat. It wasn’t the same feeling you experienced when you saw Barbatos for the first time, but it sure was similar.

Small movement directed your attention away from his face and down to your hands. His fingers were brushing over yours as he brought the book closer. You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat and tried to focus on the words on the page rather than his fingers enveloping yours.

It was a difficult feat, but you recovered.

Maybe the Anemo Archon was mentioned somewhere in this book— perhaps in a later chapter.

The two of you continued to read about the adventures and origins of the previous god that had once ruled over the eastern side of Mondstadt. As it turned out, Catalina had been the first god to ever step foot into Mondstadt, with Andrius following close behind, and Decarabian invading upon their territory some hundreds of years later.

The tale of Catalina's life was filled with wonder and a bit of sorrow. The Ruler of Time had once again been brought up, mentioned briefly in a few paragraphs describing how she was a mentor to Catalina. It made sense to you. After all, Catalina was the god of memories and the Ruler of Time was just that: a god of time. Memories and time were closely intertwined. It was no surprise that two gods who commanded both were also in close association with the other.

Finally, what you had been searching for stared you right in the face. A whole entire chapter on Barbatos. Although this book turned out to be a biography of another god, you were more than happy to get at least a little information on the Anemo Archon, no matter how brief it could be.

You turned the page, and the entire section on his origins was smudged out, worn by time. A curse fell from your lips, and you had the sudden urge to throw the book across the room. Arbor steadied you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. He took the book from your hands and flipped until he came across a fully legible page. It wasn't about the origins of Barbatos, but it outlined his history with the gods of memories and time.

It was short, but informative.

‘The spirit that calls himself Barbatos and the Queen of the North Wind were two entities closely entwined. After (...), they were considered close allies and even closer friends. The mortals who looked upon their astounding companionship once spoke of how fond the two appeared to be of each other.

Some even questioned the Queen quietly, wondering if such companionship was a step towards something greater. Although the two gods have never spoken forthright about this matter, thus is apparent: they share something that is unequivocally whole, transcending that of mortal comprehension. It is a bond that could never be severed. It is to be admired.’

You've read enough history books in your life to know what those words meant. The meaning was there in bold letters on a neon flashing sign. However, Catalina was long dead. Whatever relationship she harbored with the Anemo Archon died with her, that much you were certain of— even if you never knew of her existence until recently.

Arbor hummed. "This book is right. The Queen and Barbatos were once close… closer than any mortal could ever hope to be with another. It was truly fascinating."

It was, but you had more than a few questions; The first being how this book was outlining such recent events when it looked as if it had been run through the mud ten times over. It looked as if it was from a time in the far past— a past that was way before the Archon War. The events recorded in the first half of its pages could only be known for so long before being forgotten.

Your second question, following up your previous one, was: just who wrote this? Surely whoever wrote it was as old as the book itself. It only made sense. Only someone immortal could remember and record these events with such vivid detail.

Instead of staying afterwards like you originally planned, you quickly left the Blair family’s home, taking a few fritters along with you at the behest of Arbor.

“It’s rare to see you here, Barbatos.”

Rukkhadevata was quick to exit the Sanctuary of Surasthana as soon as the matra had informed her of the Anemo Archon’s abrupt visit. Although unexpected and sudden, she welcomed him with open arms.

Her smile was soft and kind, and her verdant eyes were warm and inviting. She towered over him as she ushered him closer, her arms spread wide. “Welcome, finally, to Sumeru.”

The younger god returned her smile, descending to the stone floor with a final flap of his wings. He brushed off his feathers before his wings folded behind him. “It was about time I paid you a visit, my friend.”

Rukkhadevata’s smile faltered a little, her eyes scanning him with a knowing look. “You are not here for a simple sightseeing trip, are you?”

He hated how well she could see through him. With a sigh, he nodded. Without another word, she motioned towards the Sanctuary. He began to follow her as she hovered a hand over his lower back. Inside the Sanctuary, he could feel the thrum of life spiraling through its walls and floors.

He shivered at the coldness beneath his bare feet. Despite that, a warmth enveloped him from every angle as small, almost imperceivable green particles floated in the air. It was as if the entire building was breathing, providing a comforting, cozy atmosphere for those within.

In the middle of the bridge sat some sort of device he had never seen before. He eyed it curiously, watching silently as the Dendro Archon walked up to it. It slithered and recoiled, like a set of retreating vines, disappearing up into the high ceilings above.

A couch made out of vines was fashioned at the Dendro Archon’s will, and she ushered him forth with a smile. “Come. Sit. Would you like anything to eat or drink?”

He shook his head. Moving forward hesitantly, he sat upon the makeshift couch, crossing his legs together. Rukkhadevata hummed a soft tune, one that matched the eerie choir that resonated through the thrumming of the semi-sentient walls. She sat down, a cup of herbal tea in her hands.

“You are here for a number of reasons, but one of those is more important than the rest. What troubles you, my dear friend?”

As always, she knew. She always did.

He chuckled softly. “You always seem to know what I’m thinking, so… Wanna take a guess?”

She thought long and hard for a moment, her eyes closing. For a minute, it was silent, except for the faint choir resounding all around him.

The longer he stayed in the Sanctuary, the more out of place he felt. It was different— much different than what he was used to. Back in Mondstadt, places belonging to divinity were cold and biting. They didn’t breathe with the life force of nature. They sang like the howling winds. The cold was uninviting and cruel, pushing out anyone who did not belong. It sent intruders packing.

But here, it was the opposite. It was filled with warmth and comfort, drawing him in and enveloping him like a hug. There was no wind that sang, and no cold to whistle through his veins. There was a numbing hotness about the air, filled with the life force of nature.

Yes… it was much different than Mondstadt.

Rukkhadevata’s eyes fluttered open, glowing and full of knowledge. Her lips drew together in a tight frown. “I see. You wish to know if it is possible to alter time, even after recent events.” Her eyes dimmed back to their normal color, the divinity seemingly fading away.

He looked away. “I know it’s strange,” he began, “after all, I’m more than capable of doing it myself… but…”

“Messing with time can cause great catastrophes.” She finished, sighing heavily. “Not only that, but it is extremely difficult to alter Irminsul’s memories. Surely she had told you that.”

With great restraint, he stopped himself from sending her a harsh glare. He gritted his teeth, his tone venomous. “Don’t—” his expression softened as he met her eyes, and he swallowed, “yes. Altering memories— and time, especially in regards to Irminsul, is risky. I know that, but I wanted to at least do something good this time around…”

She studied him for a moment. Standing up, she brought up a holographic screen. “No one in history has ever entered Irminsul. No one in history has altered Irminsul… except for them.”

A white hot rage filled his veins at the mention of the Heavenly Principles. He pushed it aside and focused on Rukkhadevata’s words.

“However, that was until our little time traveler showed up.” She zoomed in on the screen, and he assumed she was looking at Irminsul. “In the course of a week, she altered fate on an unprecedented scale. I felt the shift in Irminsul— the pull of memories shifting around, convulsing, new ones appearing and replacing the old ones.”

She was silent for a moment, her brows drawn together in thought as she stared at what looked like various tree branches and nerves. “No one has ever changed fate like this… except for a god.”

He perked up at that, his surprise evident on his face. He opened his mouth to ask who, when she turned to him, her lips pursed tightly together.

“Barbatos… that god was you.”

His blood ran cold.

“Me?”

“Many millennia ago, at the start of this world— the beginning of Teyvat’s formation, the Ruler of Time created the Thousand Winds.” She expanded the screen, making it impossibly large. With her fingers, she moved some images around on the screen, showing a perfectly normal tree with only a few branches.

“From those Winds, a lone son wandered too far from his mother, and despite her orders, passed through the fractured barrier in spacetime, creating what we now regard as the ‘Barrier of Ikairo.’ It was an event that was never meant to happen. It was a stain on the Heavenly Principles— an act of disobedience.”

The tree shifted along with the events of the story. Its trunk twisted as thousands upon thousands of long, spindly branches appeared.

“As his punishment, Celestia forced him to partake in the Archon War and slay the person he cared for most. With her gone, he was awarded the title of Anemo Archon and appointed to the position of barrier guardian by strict order from the Ruler of Time.”

He sat there, his head down, shame filling his entire being. He hadn’t meant to cross the barrier. He hadn’t meant to put a dent in Irminsul. He hadn’t meant to cause such a disturbance nor change fate. And now, to pay for such unforgivable crimes, he was charged with immortality— a lifetime, chained, bound by duty. Not only as the Anemo Archon with a stolen authority from the ancient sovereigns, but a guardian of the barrier. And already, he had failed in his duty.

“Another… more soul crushing punishment was decreed just this week.”

He was aware. He had heard the trumpets, he had witnessed the trial, he had sat upon the physical manifestation of his throne and accepted the punishment. After all, he had no choice. Whatever the Heavenly Principles decreed was law. It was sacred scripture. It was carved into Irminsul, and there was no way of ever breaking free from these shackles.

He had let out a snort then. How ironic for the god of freedom to be chained. To be bound by duty, never actually— truly free. The shackles were there, invisible but there. He felt their weight in his heart and on his mind.

A hand gently grabbed his chin and lifted his now tear-stained face. Rukkhadevata, in all her tenderness and grace, peered back at him with a sorrowful look in her eyes. She knelt before him, softly rubbing her thumb over his cheek, swiping away his tears. Her other hand came up to rest on the back of his head.

She reminded him so similarly of his mother, but with more love and care wrapped in her heart. Maybe it had been because she was connected to the heart of the world— Irminsul.

With a hesitant motion, she pulled him towards her, enveloping him in a warm hug that he so desperately needed. He wrapped his arms around her, his head falling limp between her neck and collarbone. His body fell forward into her lap, and she cradled him in her arms as if he was a baby bird. His cries resounded through the Sanctuary, his tears staining her yellow-brown skin.

She rested her head upon his, bringing him in tighter, her brows furrowing together. They stayed that way for a while as the walls thrummed sadly, imitating the slow beat of a harrowed heart.

It had been a full two months since your first visit to the Blair family home. Upon realizing she accidentally bailed on you, Gwen invited you over for dinner the day after. That one night turned into two, and two turned into three, and so on and so forth until you were spending every night with them.

They were a jovial family, always playing music and regaling you with tales of adventures and old legends. Gwen would run off and grab an instrument, only to bring it down to the living room. She’d jump onto the coffee table and begin to sing, her voice filling the cabin with an exuberant atmosphere. Klaus and August would join in as Arbor stood from his seat and offered you a hand, bowing as if he was some prince asking a princess to dance.

He’d smile as he pulled you from your chair and wrapped an arm around your waist. You’d return his smile as you placed a hand on his shoulder. “Just follow my lead,” he’d tell you, and you did your best to match his steps as he twirled you around the room. Laughter pierced the air and wafted out through the open windows.

In those moments, you were able to forget everything and truly live in the moment.

Over the course of those two months, you learned how to wield a sword. Arbor was a ruthless teacher. His methods were quite… odd, but they were effective, so you didn’t question him. If it worked, then who were you to judge?

During those training sessions, you learned more about each other. His favorite color was a deep seafoam, akin to the ocean near his home. His favorite meal was schnitzel with warm potato salad. He loved sunsets, music, and to your surprise, graffiti art. He had a special ability to make every cat love him, no matter how feral one could be. He was a real momma’s boy before his mother died— always helping her out when needed and pledging his life to keeping her safe. He never admitted it, but you could see on his face that he blamed himself for his mother’s death.

You confided in him as he did you. You told him of the two men that felt like brothers to you— Diluc and Kaeya. You told him about your childhood, your family and how they’d host Oktoberfest in their house every year and the whole neighborhood would show up. You told him what your favorite meals and pastries were, and eventually, he started making them for you without prior notice.

You choked on air as your back hit the ground. Your sword flew out of your hands, landing elsewhere as you coughed and tried to regain your breathing.

Arbor hadn’t even broken a sweat. He stood above you, his body blocking your view of the sun as you stared up at the sky in defeat. He adjusted his grip on his sword and inhaled. “Get up.” He spat, nudging your thigh with his foot. “We’re not done yet. Not until you disarm me. Let’s go. The sooner you disarm me, the sooner we can go inside and have dinner.”

“Are you cooking tonight?” You questioned, your voice hoarse from your dry throat and the lack of oxygen.

He looked away. Uh oh. “It’s Gwen’s turn.”

You whined. Although the girl was an exceptional baker, she couldn’t cook for her life. If she was stranded on a deserted island by herself, she’d surely die within the first day. She was an incredible fighter— you knew that from the one time Arbor invited her to a training session. She disarmed you and had you on the ground begging for mercy before you could even blink. That had been the first and last time you allowed her to join.

(You even considered her a far more ruthless teacher than her brother.)

Even though all she harbored was kindness and love in her heart and a friendly smile was always present on her lips, she sure didn’t play when it came to combat. Her entire personality shifted, and suddenly you were face to face with a seasoned soldier. It was downright horrifying.

With a small groan, you hauled yourself up off the grass and grabbed your sword. Arbor was already in a fighting stance when you turned around. Not giving you the chance to take a breath, he dashed forward with that same grace and elegance he always possessed. Your reflexes— which had improved over the course of two months —acted quickly, and you raised your sword to block the oncoming attack.

Gritting your teeth at the force, you pushed on your blade, attempting to knock him back. He pulled away and for a moment, you thought he was going on the defensive, when suddenly he adjusted his grip, and you knew what that meant.

Swallowing, you readied yourself, despite the dread creeping up your spine. He leapt forward, his movements fast and precise, aiming for each and every weak spot you had. You blocked attack after attack, ducking just in time as he swung towards your head. You swiped at his feet, and he jumped effortlessly over your blade. You knelt and rolled, avoiding his midair attack.

You were too slow to your feet, unable to deflect the next blow as you turned. You were knocked back, slamming right into a nearby boulder. The force from the blow knocked the air from your lungs. You coughed harshly, a wheeze escaping your lips. Your entire back was aching, though it wasn’t nearly as bad as the beating he put you through the day prior during your hand-to-hand combat training.

As usual, there wasn’t a single drop of sweat coating his body. How the hell? Was he some sort of indestructible immortal being?

He approached you, raising his sword once more as you painfully stood. Your shoulders were heaving, and your entire body was coated in a fine layer of sweat. Your hair stuck to your neck and forehead, and you wiped the sweat from your brow with the collar of your shirt.

“Again. That was pitiful. I’ve taught you better.”

Did he have an off button?

With a huff, you ran at him, and he sighed deeply. “This is your problem.”

“What is?” You scowled, beginning to get tired of his attitude.

He aimed for your chest and you jumped back just in time. His frown deepened. “Find it yourself.” He discarded his blade.

“Wha—” You paused for a moment. Big mistake. He hit your jaw, and you stumbled backwards.

“What have I told you? Don’t halt for a second. The drop of a weapon does not equate to surrender. The moment you hesitate is the moment you die.”

You scoffed. “If I die, it’s because you beat me to death!”

“No, if you die, it’s because of your own stupidity!”

He landed a punch right on your cheek, knocking you back once more. You skidded along the grass, dazed. He stood over you with a disappointed frown. “You’re weak still. You hesitate. You don’t channel anger. You fight with no purpose. That is your problem.”

You stared up at him, returning his glare. You couldn’t deny that his words hurt a little, if not a lot. Couldn’t he see you were trying your best? Couldn’t he see that you were putting your all into this training? You never skipped a lesson, and you always took them seriously. You listened when he corrected you and you were taking all of his advice to heart. Because of him, your reflexes and focus had improved, and you were reading your opponent’s movements at a rapid pace.

“Arbor.” A firm, cold voice called.

Both of you looked up to see Gwen standing in the distance, her brows furrowed and her lips drawn into a tight line. She was livid.

“Enough. She’s not like us. She’s not like Mother.” She remarked. “She wasn’t born from wrath. You can’t expect her to be the same when she’s…” she trailed off, her eyes flickering to you before fixing on her brother again. “Stop expecting so much of her. Results will come with time.”

He kept quiet, knowing better than to argue with her when she was so painfully right. With a huff, he made a beeline in her direction, his fists curled and his shoulders tense. She met his fierce expression with a challenging one of her own.

“She will fail if she continues like this,” he muttered bitterly, “she is nothing but a sorry excuse for a student.”

The look in Gwen’s eyes flashed to one of pure rage. She gritted her teeth. “Just because she’s not advancing at the speed you want does not mean she’s weak. Do you not see her trying her hardest to match you!? She’s learning quick for someone so inexperienced. For a mortal—”

You couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it was clear to you that they were arguing.

“I disarmed Lowen within my tenth training session. It was brief, but I did it. There is no reason she cannot do the same after two months.” He contested. “It doesn’t matter what she is. My teaching has been accelerated this whole time.”

Her eye twitched. “Arbor, you’ll break her if you continue like this—”

“This conversation is over.” He stormed off towards the coastline, ignoring Gwen’s anxious calls of his name.

“Why don’t you come inside?” Gwen questioned after letting out a sigh. “I came out here to let you both know that dinner is ready, anyway.”

You stood from your place on the grass, wincing at the ache that was present in every bone in your body. As you moved, your brows scrunched together, and she smiled apologetically.

“I’m sorry about him… he’s always been like that— hard on people, I mean.” Her gaze was distant as she followed the outline of his form on the coastline. “Our mother was the same way. He picked up more than a few of their habits…”

‘Their’?

Instead of prying, you followed her gaze. “Will he be okay? He seemed pretty angry.”

She scoffed. “He’ll be fine. It’s me that you should worry about,” she told you as she turned to head inside, “as soon as he gets back, I’m giving him a piece of my mind.”

You hesitated for a moment, your eyes lingering on Arbor’s shirtless form in the distance. From what you could see, he was knee deep in the ocean waves, his arms crossed over his chest. From here, you couldn’t make out the expression on his face. His back was somewhat turned to you.

You wondered how he must be feeling. You knew he was impatient and hard on you, but it was only because he wanted you to improve. Did you really meet his standards, though, if you kept failing?

You weren’t a fool. You could tell that his argument with Gwen had been about you and your progress. Although you couldn’t hear what they were saying, it was clear as day because of the way he had spoken to you before she arrived.

With a long sigh, you followed Gwen into the house.

With a swipe of her sleeve over her sweaty forehead, Gwen sighed heavily. That had been the last of the boxes that needed to be moved.

A man clapped his hands together, wiping off the dust and grime. He turned to Gwen with a grateful smile.

“Thank you so much for your help, Lord Guinevere,” the man said, giving a swift bow, “without your help, we wouldn’t have been able to move all this wood by sunset.”

She shook her head, returning his smile. “It was no trouble. And seriously, Arnold, you don’t have to call me that anymore.” She looked down. “Cairnfelle is gone…”

“Nonsense!” Arnold exclaimed. “Cairnfelle hasn’t fallen yet. You and Arbor are still with us, which means you carry its legacy.”

“I appreciate your loyalty, but…” she trailed off, unable to find the right words. She stared at the ground, unsure of what to say.

This was the first time she had been at a loss for words. What does one even respond to that with, anyway? Cairnfelle was gone. It died with its Queen. The winds had changed.

She took a deep breath and looked up. “A-Anyways— I will always be at your service.” She saluted him. “The Blair family will always be willing to help others, no matter what.”

Arnold nodded curtly, his gaze softening. He ruffled her oak brown hair, causing her to laugh under her breath. “The Blair family has done much for Mondstadt. Our thanks could never equate to the thousands of years of grace you’ve shown us.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Stop getting all formal on me! You know I’ve never done formalities! Also, it’s Gwen. Not Guinevere, and definitely not ‘Lord Guinevere.’”

He laughed, loud and full of mirth. He tipped his hat and nodded. “You got it, Gwen.”

“That’s more like it!” She smiled brightly at him, waving goodbye with a hand raised high above her head. “See ya! Don’t throw your back out while I’m gone!”

The trek back home from Springvale was a lengthy one. The Blair family home was tucked far beneath Starsnatch Cliff, right along the coastline. It was not only a far walk from Springvale, but a far trip from the city as well.

If the land was still intact from before Barbatos’ sudden urge to purge the entire nation of its mountaintops, maybe the original Blair home would still be tucked away in the mountains.

Oftentimes, she found herself missing the comfort and harmony of the mountainous slopes and the chilling, howling winds. They wrapped around the entire kingdom like a safety net, protecting them from the outside world. It was a paradise, a haven for all. A place of peace and prosperity for not only Mondstadtians, but others from around the continent as well.

Instead of going back home like she planned, she took a last minute detour. The sun was fading steadily over the horizon, and making the journey up to the far northern borders would take more than a few days on foot.

This only meant one thing.

She let out a heavy sigh and braced herself for the pain. From her back, hollow bones sprouted, tearing the skin apart. A thin layer of muscle pulled itself over the bone, followed by glistening ivory that danced along the muscle and tapered down, down, down. Brilliant wings stretched high behind her, a burst of feathers filling the air. They fluttered to the ground, only to shoot back up again as she dashed into the sky.

The trip was shorter, thanks to her newfound way of transportation. She stumbled back onto the ground, tripping over her own feet.

It had been such a long time since she had flown like that. It was as if she was a baby bird just learning how to fly.

She caught herself, only to get the wind knocked out of her lungs as a heavy weight collapsed onto her back.

She cried out in pain, her wings still sensitive from just sprouting again after what felt like millennia of being hidden from sight. A groan left her lips as she sat up, gazing behind her only to see a heap of tangled limbs and messy navy hair.

“Lord Barbatos!?”

She didn’t mean for it to come out as a shriek. Quickly pulling him into her arms, she inspected his torn up wings. It was a sorry sight— dried blood coating his feathers and bones sticking out in some places. She winced as she placed him flat on his stomach.

“What happened to you?” She muttered, her brows furrowing as she laid his wings out as far as she could. “This is too much… even for me.”

With this much damage, there was no way she could heal him. It would have to take some sort of miracle. Yet, he was a god. Miracles came naturally to him. With just a snap of his fingers, he could fix this…

Or could he?

What if the damage was irreparable? Would he be cursed to a fate of having clipped wings?

She was already aware of the secrets he harbored and the burdens he carried. First, chained. Then, duty-bound. Now?

…Never to fly again, it seemed.

With a determined huff, she shifted onto her knees and hovered her hands over where feathers met skin. Maybe she couldn’t fix him wholly, but she could very well try her damndest to do something; even if it was as small as clearing the blood and ceasing the pain.

“Hang in there, My Lord.”

An hour passed, and her energy was still intact. She kept up as the sun fully passed over the horizon, replaced with a lone moon shining brightly in the sky.

Another few hours passed. The blood was completely gone now, though she knew that her level of healing could only do so much on a god. It couldn’t heal his broken wings.

At this point, she had no choice but to involve the other divine.

She picked him up, as gently as she could with the little strength she had left after expending her abilities for so long. Carefully, she took him into the abandoned cathedral that still loomed on a cliffside. The ornate roof was long gone, snapped off during the great terraforming process. And yet, that ethereal, sacred feeling of stepping onto holy ground filled her heart and mind.

A familiar power thrummed beneath the marble floors, and a small smile tugged at her lips as it swirled around her, greeting her with a soft breeze.

She carried the broken god up to the altar and laid him down. Pressing a hand over his heart, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her own heart was beating erratically in her chest, threatening to break free from its cage.

With a bowed head, she began the sacred prayer to the North Winds.

“Mögen die Winde deine Erinnerungen streifen und deine Seele durchdringen.

Mögen die Winde dich segnen und dich vom Bösen befreien.

Mögen Wahrheit und Aufrichtigkeit dein Fundament sein. Mögen Vertrauen und Treue dich leiten.

Mögen die Erinnerungen an die Vergangenheit, die Gegenwart und die Zukunft dein Herz sein.

Mögen deine Lippen stets von der Kälte des Nordens berührt werden und deine Zunge von den Feuern der Entschlossenheit entflammt sein.

Mögen die Winde die Seele und ihre Erinnerungen weitertragen, wenn sie gegangen ist, und den Körper von seinem Schmerz und seinem Leid befreien.”

For a moment, nothing happened.

Until…

A burst of blinding aqua light emerged from the altar. A whirlwind followed closely in its stead. The force sent her tumbling back, her back roughly hitting a stone pillar.

She groaned in pain, hearing a small crack erupt from one of her wings. She cursed under her breath and fell forward onto the marble floor. Small stones and tiny pebbles cascaded around her as the ground shook with enough force to topple the entire cathedral.

Then, the light disappeared, and the rumbling stopped. The whipping winds fizzled out into soft, murmuring breezes, and the air went cold with suspense.

A whimper sounded. Her head flew up, and sure enough, Barbatos was waking.

She stumbled to her feet, clutching onto the pillar for support before making a beeline for the altar.

Barbatos sat up, rubbing his temple as his vision slowly cleared. The ringing in his ears ceased, and his breathing evened. He looked up, cerulean eyes gazing up at the endless sea of stars above his head.

Where was he?

He had no time to process as the breath was knocked from his lungs and he was catapulted off the altar and onto the ground below a tall statue just behind it. The two figures tumbled to the ground, their backs hitting the base of the statue and causing it to shake slightly.

He huffed, attempting to catch his breath again. He looked down, only to see the familiar sight of brown and platinum hair. He blinked, his eyes widening in surprise.

How long had it been since he’d last seen her?

She was tightly hugging his middle, her head dug into his chest. It was then he noticed she was holding on for dear life, scared he might disappear from her grasp. Hesitantly, he brought a hand up to rest on her head, and the other to rest around her shoulders.

He laid his head upon hers, smiling as he sighed in content.

“So… You wish to know how to change fate?” Egeria looked down on him in mock disdain. “And why have you come to me for this matter? Why not Buer?”

He chewed his lip.

Egeria, as gentle and adoring as she was at her core, could also be merciless and judgmental like the raging tides of the nation she oversought. Her piercing gaze was enough to send a shiver down his spine.

The reason he hadn’t gone to Rukkhadevata was simply because he wasn’t sure whether she could provide him with an answer. He was positive that none of the Archons would— except for one. One, who’s successor was already thinking of a way to change the fate of all Fontainians.

Maybe, if he could speak with her—

Egeria sighed long and hard, her striking blue eyes boring holes into the pristine blue floor. The air was filled with a tense silence as she pondered over his request.

None have ever changed fate before. The only person who had was a mortal, and even then, they had no knowledge of ever doing so, nor how they did so. Even the gods weren’t aware how someone so insignificant had the power to change their fate around.

She sat up straight, snapping her fingers. One of her oceanid familiars rushed forward, kneeling at the steps leading up to her gold and blue throne. She slammed the end of her trident onto the floor, the sound reverberating off the glass walls.

“Fetch Focalors.”

“Right away, Lady Egeria!”

Egeria leaned forward, beckoning Barbatos closer with a perfectly manicured finger. He slowly walked up the steps until he was face to face with her.

“My Focalors has not changed fate,” she began, “but she has been mulling ideas over on the ocean floor for many years. If anyone could help you, it is her. Or perhaps… you’ve considered someone else?”

She raised a brow, the knowing look in her eyes saying it all. You know someone who deals in fate. Why waste your time here?

He took a deep breath. “Cousin,” he regarded her in confidence, “I seek a trustworthy ally. Someone who will handle this mortal’s fate carefully.”

With an intrigued hum, she stroked her chin. So that’s why he came to her. Not because Rukkhadevata was not in the know, but because the dealer-in-fate he already knew was someone he could not trust as far as he could throw them. Which, as the Anemo Archon, was pretty damn far.

“And you believe my Focalors will be this honest person?”

“Yes.” He uttered without a second thought.

Just then, the oceanid familiar from before came walking in with a stunning figure in tow. Barbatos stared, his eyes wide and his mouth falling open as he met her mismatched eyes. The woman had white hair with blue highlights that reached her calves, and wore a gorgeous mermaid-styled white and navy gown. Gold earrings hung from her ears, and a polite smile tugged at her lips. There was a certain elegance about her that Barbatos had been captivated by. It was an elegance he was all too familiar with.

It was the elegance of an ancient god, though Focalors was anything but an ancient god. She paid him no mind as her careful steps resonated throughout the room. She bowed deeply before Egeria’s throne.

“How may I serve you, Lady Egeria?”

“Rise,” Egeria said gently, motioning for Focalors to come closer.

The oceanid turned human did as she was told and stood next to Barbatos with her hands clasped tightly together in front of her.

"The Anemo Archon seeks an audience with you. Consider yourself lucky to be in the presence of such an esteemed one as himself."

Focalors' eyes widened, and she turned to gaze upon the god standing beside her. Her eyes were calculating as she studied him. It was as if she was trying to ascertain why in the world he had wanted to speak with her, of all people.

He had come just for her? What for?

She had heard of his exploits from Egeria, and he truly was a man worth the devotion and praise. He had done so much for his people, for his friends, and for his nation. Someone like him was comparable to that of a hero; one written about in fables and bards' songs. It was ironic, given the fact that he was the god of music and song.

If the god of freedom, song, wind, and idylls was here for her, she would provide her aid to him in any way she could— but that did not mean she was not without her doubts on his true reasoning for seeking her guidance.

Despite her doubts, she bowed deeply. Above all, he was an Archon— he was above her, just like Lady Egeria. He sputtered, reaching out a hand as if to place it upon her shoulder. He stopped short, his hand lingering in the space between them before it returned to the place at his side.

"Please," he said gently, his voice calm and soothing in her ears, "stand. There is no need for formalities with me."

He smiled softly at her as she met his gaze once more, and she swallowed the lump in her throat. Egeria stood from her throne, her presence demanding all to look at her with reverence and respect. She used her trident to support her weight as she descended the steps. "I shall leave the two of you to your meeting."

She sent them a curt nod. It was Focalors' turn to start sputtering, her jaw falling slack in surprise. She raised her skirts, taking a few steps towards her Archon, when Egeria raised a hand to stop her in her tracks.

"My Lady, you will leave us alone? But that is not—"

With her back turned, Egeria sighed softly. "It is not my business what you speak of in this room. The Anemo Archon is trustworthy. I trust his judgment."

That was that. With a final flick of her wrist, she ushered the other oceanid guards out of the throne room, leaving Focalors and Barbatos alone. It was eerily quiet, save for the sounds of moving water beyond the glass walls. Focalors stared at the heavy prismarine doors her master had left out of, before turning to face the waiting Anemo Archon.

She stepped closer, keeping a reasonable distance between them, and clasped her hands in front of her. She cleared her throat. "H-How may I serve you, Lord Barbatos god of Freedom and esteemed Anemo Archon?"

He let out a chuckle and took a seat on the steps before Egeria's throne. "Come now, no need for all that. I told you before, I'm not one for formalities." Still... she didn't see it right to address him informally considering his standing. "Please, just see me as a friend... Alright?"

She couldn't. He was an Archon— a heavenly divine figure. He was revered throughout the lands. He was beautiful in every sense of the word, and his humanity was what made him truly divine. Despite her high praise of him, she attempted to do as he told her, and nodded. If he requested she see him as a friend, she would fulfill his wishes.

"Alright." She nodded. His smile widened. It was warm and welcoming, calming her nerves in an instant. Her shoulders relaxed somewhat, and she sat next to him. "What may I help you with, then?"

"Egeria told me you've been attempting to turn around the fate of the Fontainian people. I wanted to ask how you plan on doing so."

She certainly wasn't expecting that.

"W-Well, I—" she stopped, unsure. "I'm... not entirely sure at the moment. I need more time. After all, changing fate is a difficult task."

He scoffed. "I'm aware... yet it isn't impossible."

Fate was tricky. He was more than familiar with it, as his own had been tampered with long ago. Although it hadn't been anyone else's fault but his own, he still wasn't sure how it exactly happened. But now... he needed to change it again.

He needed to change not only his, but yours. There was no way he was going to allow you to be subjected to such a horrible fate like the one the Heavenly Principles had given you.

Focalors glanced at him, seeing the far off look in his eyes. She sighed. The secret she had been keeping inside for a while now began to creep its way to the surface, lingering on the tip of her tongue as she opened her mouth. Would she regret telling him? She hoped she wouldn't.

There was something... off about him that made her uneasy, yet she couldn't place what it was. Gods had their secrets. She was well aware of that fact, as she could sense that Egeria had her own. But if those secrets would harm the lives of those around them... were they really worth keeping?

Egeria placed her trust and judgment in the Anemo Archon. That was enough to sway Focalors to speak.

"There… is a way you may be able to change your fate..." she muttered, watching as his eyes lit up with hope, "I've thought about it for many years. I'm not even sure if it's entirely possible, but... to change your fate, you need to bypass the Heavenly Principles, right? Well..."

She trailed off, wringing her hands in her lap. "If you want to bypass them, you would have to deceive them."

The words sat heavy in the air as Barbatos hung onto her every word. Deceive the Heavenly Principles!? That was an impossible task. Changing fate and altering time were tricky enough, but they were plausible. But... deceiving the all-powerful absolute authorities of the world? That was downright impossible, even for a god— for an Archon.

He might as well have given up. This endeavor was futile anyway. Why did he ever think he could achieve defying the Heavenly Principles?

Focalors watched the way his expression contorted into one of surprise, then of horror, and finally defeat.

"I wish there was another way..." she muttered, pulling at the sleeves of her dress. "But there isn't. And I'm determined to see my— no, Lady Egeria's plan —through. Because although it may seem impossible, I believe there's a successful way to go about this task."

Her words weren't getting through to him. She could tell. The look of utter defeat upon his face was heartbreaking. With her brows drawn together, she shuffled closer to him. "Lord Barbatos... it is possible. If there's no way, then I will simply make one. I will not give up hope— because the moment I do is the moment I doom the lives of the people of Fontaine."

That sentence struck a chord within him. She watched as a look of something unnamed flashed in his eyes. Letting out a sigh, she stood up and smoothed out her gown.

"I do not know what it is you are dealing with, nor why you are insistent on changing fate. But... I do know one thing," she paused, meeting his eyes, "we are the same, you and I. We have those we want to protect. And that is more important than lingering on the 'what-ifs' or what is or is not possible in this world. Anything in this world is possible if you have enough willpower. If you have enough hope and determination to see it through."

The room went silent, and she bowed her head in respect before exiting, leaving him alone with the weight of her words lingering in his heart and mind.

The air was thick with tension as you continued flipping restlessly through the pages of your notebook, your heart still beating wildly inside your chest from the argument you had moments ago with your mother.

The effects of her words still loitered in your mind, and unspoken insults still lingered on the tip of your tongue.

Your relationship wasn't one you could call stable by any means. Your mother, as far as you were concerned, was a stranger in your home. Your elder brother, a sprightly and burly man who dedicated his life to the protection of Mondstadt, was who you considered to be your true caretaker.

With your father no longer of this world, your mother had sought to continue the life she threw away before she had gotten married. She continued with her studies at the Sumeru Akademiya when you were a small child, and your brother had been left to care for you in her absence.

But you, unfortunately, were your mother's daughter. That same buzz and thirst for knowledge plagued your heart and soul just as it did her when she was a young girl. The similarities had once been something you cherished— something you held dear. You wanted to be like her. You wanted to study at the most prestigious school in all of Teyvat.

But now...

A bitter taste was left on your tongue from the argument you just had. How had things become this bad? How had everything fallen apart after the death of your father?

You let out a heavy sigh and slammed your notebook closed. The air wafting in from your open window was chilly, revealing it to be a cold and crisp winter night. Letting out a huff, you stood from your desk chair and grabbed your satchel, throwing your notebook and a pen inside before making a beeline for the door.

You had enough of sitting inside mulling over the effects of your dwindling relationship with your mother. Your brother glanced at you as you left the house, flinching slightly at the way you slammed the door closed.

He sighed. You were just like your mother.

You knew it too. And you hated it.

The wintry air of Northern Mondstadt greeted you like an old friend, embracing you in its hold as you allowed your feet to drag you out towards the plains that acted as a border between Northern Mondstadt and the icy ocean neighboring Snezhnaya.

No one could find you out here, not even your brother. It was the perfect getaway from that stuffy, warm house that only served as a cage. Out here, where there were no trees and the winds blew harshly, you could relax. The biting chill was a welcome feeling against your skin that still burned with the rage in your veins.

You spotted the familiar hill in the distance, a small smile pulling at your lips as you headed straight for it. The remnants of an ancient temple stood tall in the silence of the night, alight with an ethereal glow of divinity. You bid a small greeting to the old structure, running your fingers over the cold stone pillars.

This place always felt familiar to you in a way. It was as if— before you discovered it —you had been here before. It felt warm amidst the cold breezes. A soft thrum echoed through your feet and circulated throughout your whole body, calming your mind and rapid heartbeat.

It was a familiar feeling— one you felt every time you set foot in this temple. It only made sense for it to be the lingering effects of divinity left over from the death of an ancient god. Judging by the tenderness of what felt like a caress, you could only assume the god had been a kind and gentle one. It could only be someone warm and welcoming.

A bright, blue light wafted from the center of the main room. The fog around the bud curled around the nearby crevices and enveloped your feet as you got closer. You pulled your notebook from your satchel and sat on the marble floor, flipping open to an empty page and beginning to jot down anything you could on the anomaly before you.

Leyline anomalies had interested you ever since you first stumbled upon this temple a few years ago. Leylines were peculiar things— known for inhabiting many areas around Teyvat and containing the memories of the people who live in those areas.

The memories in this one were odd. They made you feel sorrowful and chained down, as if the person who died here had died with many regrets. It was hard to gather more information other than just feelings. You couldn't see past the haze surrounding the bud of memories, and you couldn't uncover the identities of anyone inside the memories.

You felt lost. You wanted to understand the land— the world around you. You wanted to connect with Mondstadt's history and uncover truths hidden inside the very land you called home.

There was a noticeable gap in Mondstadt's history. Ever since the ancient library burned down over a thousand years ago, the nation had lost most of its original texts and documents. The people themselves began to forget their own history, and the founding of Mondstadt got blurrier by the year. Old traditions still celebrated lost their original meanings, and songs were forgotten along the winds.

The nation had slowly and gradually lost most of their history, customs, and memories with the destruction of a single building. It was catastrophic the way it happened. You weren't alive back then, but the sorrow and anguish you felt for the unfortunate event made it seem like you had been.

It affected you on an unprecedented scale— more than it had anyone else in Mondstadt. It was odd how strongly you felt towards an event that you hadn't even been alive to witness.

Maybe the reason you had been so intrigued in Mondstadt's leylines was because of how connected you felt to events that you weren't there to see.

"It's a little odd, I won't lie," Jean said to you once as you both laid sprawled out under the tree in your front yard. "I mean... don't you think it's weird? I mean, yeah, the burning of that library dealt a huge blow to Mondstadt, but no one really cares today."

You sighed heavily, enjoying the brisk breeze of mid-Spring as you sketched out that ominous temple in your notebook. "You don't have to tell me things I already know," you replied coolly, "I get it's weird. But, I really do feel... connected... to things that happened in the past... as if I was there to witness them in a past life or something."

She glanced at you, propping up an elbow on the grass. "Do you think you're a reincarnation of someone?"

You scoffed. "Nah, not at all. I don't believe in that stuff, anyway."

Jean's blue eyes studied you for a moment. She frowned. "Really? But what if you were like, a hero to Mondstadt or something? What if the reason you feel so connected to our nation is because you're a reincarnation of a prominent figure important to our history?"

"Well, if that's true, then do you think you're a reincarnation of someone too?"

She hummed thoughtfully, laying back onto the grass and staring up at the cloudless blue sky. She smiled. "Maybe. If I am, I want to believe my past incarnation was a wonderful soul— someone who helped Mondstadt in its time of need, just like my ancestors."

You stared at her for a moment, admiring her side profile. A warm feeling bloomed inside your chest the longer you stared, and your heart began to thump against your ribcage as she met your gaze. Her soft expression could turn you to mush.

"And," she continued, sitting up on her elbow once more and leaning over your face with a smirk on her lips, "I'd like to believe we were together in our past lives, too. I don't think I could live without you, after all."

A small giggle left her lips, and you felt your face grow hot. She pecked your lips before settling on the grass next to you again, curling into your side as you both laid in comfortable silence.

It was that very same day that led to your downfall. Her words struck something within you, and a newfound determination surged throughout your body. It was that day you decided to pour your entire life into studying leyline anomalies and their effects on not only the world, but the people of Teyvat as well.

Everything else was shoved aside, left to rot in the back of your mind as you pushed yourself to your limit and worked your life away. You didn't expect your obsession to become the very thing that drove your first love away from you.

Just like your mother.

"This is borderline unhealthy!" Jean cried, shaking your notebook in front of your face. "You're obsessed! Can't you see how this is destroying you!?"

You refused to listen to reason. "I'm doing what you told me! Figuring out if memories really do affect us, and if all of us really are reincarnations of past historical figures!"

She looked at you incredulously. "Are you crazy!? This isn't something to waste your life over! I understand you want to make a historical breakthrough, but it's not worth it if you're losing your sanity along the way!"

You knew she was right. You could feel it. But, at that point, you were too far gone.

"But I'm so close to—"

"You're ruining yourself!" She screamed, tossing your notebook to the side. A few drops of water hit your nose, and soon, it began to rain. "Don't you see!? You're becoming your mother! Isn't that what you always sought to avoid?"

A fiery rage swelled within you at the mention of your mother and you gritted your teeth. You balled your hands into fists. Before you could get an insult out, she sniffled.

"I don't deserve to be cast aside, (Name)." Her voice was shaky as she attempted to keep her emotions in check, only to fail.

"You don't understand how important this research is to me," you muttered bitterly, "it means more to me than my own life. I'm nothing without this. I'm not like you. I don't have a huge life ahead of me— I don't have a duty to Mondstadt. Half my family is gone. I don't have a purpose. But this— this is my purpose. This research is what I've been looking for since my dad died."

She stared at you in disbelief. She scoffed. "Did we mean nothing to you?"

You were silent, unable to answer the question as you were hit with a sudden wave of guilt. Your jaw fell slack as your tongue felt heavy in your mouth. You tried to tell her that yes, she meant everything to you, but the words got caught in your throat.

"You're selfish!" She spat, her words piercing like knives in your heart. "All you care about is yourself. And that idiotic research." Without even so much as a "goodbye," she left.

footnotes. please see this post for the full extensive notes of this chapter!!

#venti #genshin impact #genshin #genshin venti #venti genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin venti x you #genshin venti x reader #venti x you #venti x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #— thus always to tyrants 🪴#—stellaronhvnters.

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langfield · 5 months ago

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do you think vinh was actually in love with safi? i know he starts doubting that he ever was in chapter 5, but if he wasn’t actually in love what do you think his true feelings for her were? emotional attachment maybe? on safi’s side, i think it’s interesting how even after knowing about vinh’s statement about maya she still decides to hook up with him for a time (only to eventually stop sometime prior to the game?? maybe they had another falling out idk). their relationship in general is just very fascinating to me lmao.

god, the safi-vinh dynamic is certainly one filled with intrigue because of all the intense emotions attached to the people within it ; aimed at each other and also at the bystanders whom haunted around their not so defined relationship. there’s just so much baggage attached to them, you know? mostly painful things and a general sense of betrayal or regret, creating a potion of this general wishy washy bullshit that’s hard to parse through … more so in safi’s case than vinh’s, but i’ll touch upon that later! as for your question about vinh and his true feelings, well.

maybe he was in love with safi once upon a time. maybe the fact he believed that he was in love with her is really all that matters. i suppose it depends on what your definition of romantic love and utter devotion is. it’s undeniable he cared fiercely for safi, enough so to become jealous of max ( safi’s object of obsession ), swear off serious relationships in hope she’d want him back, and to engage in a general meddling within her life to make sure she comes out of situations as unscathed as possible. i mean, he schemes to steal a cow skull and then proceeds to throw it through her windshield in an attempt to save yasmin’s and safi’s relationship … it is very extra of him to do, in fact it’s a literal crime, and the game has both max and safi acknowledge the intensity of said action in episode four. we see the memory of the hedgehog he proudly displays on his desk, the carelessness in which safi treats it, her ‘i’ll buy you another one if it breaks’, and how vinh simpers beneath that offer because he doen’t want a new one, he wants this one, the one safi gave him : a gift that was likely unprompted, some sort of surprise maybe, given to him on a whim and cherished better than any other possession he owns. we also see how he breaks it when she dies. then there’s photos upon photos of safi on his phone and it’s implied he takes pictures after they sleep together and -- that isn’t even touching upon how he practically gives up on himself after her death. the mask drops, he starts trying to branch out and find acting gigs elsewhere, wanting to leave caledon forever, and there’s a sense of raw anger and loneliness he feels when she’s gone. he stops hooking up and pushes everyone away besides max, whom he clings to, and it’s a lot, right? there’s love there. obsession, probably. in many ways he’s still the ‘puppy’ following safi around like gwen said, only without maya this time. he waits and stews and he wants, certainly, for her to love him … but was it purely romantic love? who’s to say!

i think vinh wanted safi as his girlfriend before, maybe when things weren’t so tense, and he still believed that fiercely even when he stopped wanting it. i don’t think he knew where his feelings started to dwindle into something less excited and more resigned, or when he started looking for someone else. his priority remained with safi and with yasmin and thus there wasn’t a lot of time to dissect his heart, a rather vulnerable act he already struggles with anyway. he’s a repressive sort of man. he doesn’t do a lot of introspection because he has an act to maintain, a reputation to follow. but i do believe that by the time double exposure takes place, vinh’s love for safi has indeed shifted because his attraction to max veers on something that isn’t purely sexual. there is an undeniable interest, both in dead and living world, that he’s either embracing or squirming away from … i do not think vinh had many crushes at all when he was in love with safi. i don’t think he allowed himself that luxury, because he didn’t want to move on from her, or put himself off the market in case she wanted him again, in bed or in some profound, loving sense. lots of waiting. lots of surrendering, ‘she’ll come around, we’ll make up’, and hoping despite himself. so his romance with max proves to me that vinh is somewhat right in saying ‘or i thought i was’ when talking about safi and being in love with her, because he was before, but he isn’t exactly in love with her now, if that makes sense? i’d say an emotional attachment is a good title for what they have by the time of the games events.

( i do not wish to diminish vinh’s feelings, but i also think there’s a case to be made that he was rather desperate when he thought himself in love with safi ; there was a lot of insecurity within him back when he was a student, weighed down by the fact he was poor and not your standard run-of-the-mill white man … as an adult he scoffs at his acting abilities and wields his power as head of abraxas with a rather tight fist, as though it’s the only control he’s ever had before. it’s rather clear his only two friends were safi and maya and that vinh hasn’t had any since them -- was desperate to stay on their heels despite the fact he was never really apart of whatever they had. it’s not a stretch to speculate that vinh was, perhaps, a cocktail mix of loneliness and desperation rather than strictly in love with safi. maybe confused his all-consuming need to be around her as desire, or maybe just enjoyed feeling wanted by safi enough to mix his wires. after all, why was it safi he was in love with and not maya? vinh also uses sex as a means of coping, as seen by his rather active sex life in game via hookup apps and reggie, so maybe his sex with safi was just that. coping. in it’s own way. regardless, he did love her, or so he thinks so, and to me i think that’s enough, speculation aside )

safiya’s side of things is much more difficult than vinh’s, who is more obvious about his feelings towards her than he thinks he is. there are some brief contradictions, like how it’s stated that safi doesn’t care for vinh ( which is true ) and yet she also acknowledges that when she split apart and lost herself, all that was left of her was moses, lucas, gwen, and vinh. we know that moses and gwen matter to safi, or mattered, and that at one point safi might’ve admired lucas … so where does that leave vinh? if she doesn’t hate him like gwen or lucas now, and if she doesn’t cherish him like moses or max, why is he still apart of her? what does that mean? is it just a metaphor for their times with maya, and how safi will always be connected to that past with vinh because of her love for the caledon’s personal dead girl? was her sleeping with vinh about maya too? or did she actually care for vinh once, albeit weakly and casually, and did that fleeting moment of affection count when she vanished into everyone who’s ever thoroughly affected her life? and, as you said, it’s so fascinating that she hooks up with vinh at all post maya death … it feels strange and odd and unlike her. even in their intimate picture together after fooling around she is nothing but angry, disinterested, her underwear and bra are already back on ( if they were ever off at all? ) and while that’s on account of safi just hating photos, i also think it’s a testament to how irritable she finds vinh’s presence when stuck in it. it’s not a happy photo really, even vinh’s expression is a little red-eyed, forced, like he was likely wasted the night prior. i wouldn’t be surprised if safi was only able to be with vinh if she was … you know … literally out of her mind drunk or high or what have you.

though, that’s just speculation of course. my vague take on things is that safi went to vinh whenever she was partied out or if she was feeling particularly destructive that day ; choked with self loathing over her mom or maya and so sex with vinh was a means for her to feel even worse. some sort of self harm, some sort of outlet where she could be particularly cruel and evil without consequence, because vinh would take it and roll over -- could even be her way of controlling things too, like vinh with abraxas, because we know vinh has no issues with being led around in the bedroom, so that’s some food for thought. i don’t think she thinks about it after or remembers it much … she really doesn’t think about vinh unless it suits her or if she needs to. i always notice how, in episode four, safiya immediately knows what max is talking about when she asks if safi’s ever transformed into amanda, gwen, or lucas. she owns up immediately, confesses, and understands intimately what situation max is referring to. but when max asks about vinh and the phone, there is a brief moment where safi just stares blankly at her -- like she’s thinking about it, like she doesn’t even remember, before it finally clicks after a beat. either she wears vinh’s metaphorical skin a lot ( which, to be fair, she does pretend to be vinh a lot in game ) or she literally thinks of him so little she’ll forget everything about him in minutes. both are likely! she doesn’t even recall what type of alcohol he likes, calling it bougie japanese brandy ‘or whatever’ … and can’t be assed to remember his phone’s pin number exactly, only vague details about a magician scientist that she clearly thought was boring and lame when vinh told her said story, if her hostility and complete forgetfulness is anything to go by. for me, it’s easy to get caught up in a ‘safi did care! she had to!’ angle about vinh, although the game repeatedly shows you over and over again that she does not. she doesn’t even care that max kissed him really, if anything, she’s more jealous of vinh being with max given some of her remarks :

( i know, technically, safi’s ‘come again?’ is more nervous than jealous per se … but there is a certain air to it, especially given the ‘i can be your new boyfriend’ comment as seen above lol. if she loves max and doesn’t care for vinh, i can only imagine how she’d feel about their romance in particular! )

and, of course, there’s that part in episode four where safi can disguise herself as vinh in order to tear lucas a new one. i enjoy that part for many reasons! seeing how safi feels so much more comfortable in someone else’s skin than her own is fascinating and makes for good foreshadowing … but there is also the reveal of her opinions on vinh, unabashed and shameless, when she is finally giving him an ounce of thought :

it’s interesting! she doesn’t care for him, really, doesn’t loathe him like lucas or gwen or her own mother, but there’s a level of vitriol regardless. she thinks him fake. she thinks him a coward. she thinks he’s scared of facing consequences and that he only acts in his own self interest and she hates every bit of that. while safi can confess to doing maya wrong and hating herself for it, she never allows vinh that same courtesy. even says as much to max, claiming that only she had the humanity to regret her choice while vinh apparently didn’t. and yet … she doesn’t hate him? doesn’t feel strongly towards him? he’s still apart of her, a large part, and she can get along with him fine on crosstalk if she so pleases and she can hate his guts but, when the raw truth is revealed, she apparently feels nothing towards him at all? it is fascinating to think about is all. how she doesn’t wish him dead but doesn’t care if he’s alive either despite everything they’ve been through, even though she hates gwen and lucas and her mother more. it’s rather mean, though that’s what makes it so complex and interesting. it shows that safi only ever cares ( and oh, does she care fiercely, obsessively ) for a very slim group of people, and that when push comes to shove, everyone else can fend for themselves for all she cares. she would protect moses and max in a heartbeat, without thought, and the piece of her within them tries valiantly to keep them safe by locking them away from the world ( another thing to dissect, certainly! ), but she doesn’t really extend such empathy towards the innocents caught in her crossfire. she may be tormenting lucas and gwen specifically, but everyone else was going to be collateral damage and safi was fine with that. at least a little bit. vinh falls in that category of inevitable damage, i think, despite their closeness and despite their history, and you can tell that’s what really wounds him at the end of things. safi couldn’t even torment him, didn’t have the want or energy to do so, he was valiantly apart of her and safi didn’t even care about that. very interesting! it’s also heartbreaking in many ways to see two people who should’ve been able to lean on each other, who should’ve loved one another, be nothing but strangers at the end of things. an example of how tragedy doesn’t always bring people closer. sometimes it drives you worlds apart from the one you should be grieving with, which can be seen in other life is strange games, most notably with chloe and joyce, i think.

anyway! tldr : it’s complicated and worth exploring. there are many ways you can interpret their relationship and i highly encourage everyone to find what angle is most interesting to them! and i don’t blame you for finding their dynamic fascinating because it’s easily one of my favorites in double exposure … i don’t think of it often, but it’s always lingering in the back of my mind. regardless, i hope this word vomit is helpful! if i brought up more questions than answers, i do apologize. but thank you so much for such a fun question <3 it was an absolute blast, and tickled my brain enough to pump this out asap.

#my asks.#life is strange double exposure #vinh lang #safiya llewellyn fayyad #ohhhh these two. THESE TWO!!!! i genuinely have no clue what’s going on with them #but there’s a palpable sense of pain no matter how you swing their dynamic and i love it #lots of yearning and dismissal and an ache you know? hate. betrayal. love. obsession …#you could name the feelings between them but putting an actual label on things is what’s most difficult #which. ironically. fits their relationship in its entirety haha #many thoughts and feelings — i just hope this captures even a sliver of them anon!!!#i will also say i tentatively think safi and vinh slept together before maya’s death at LEAST one time #because that makes sense as to why safi would be more inclined to do it again. even after #i also think she stopped after max came into the picture. as vinh words it ‘she was obsessed’ with max #and never stopped talking about her … so i think she stopped with vinh entirely. she’s so far up max’s ass she stops having time for him #or something like that. lol #ANYWAY! i do think vinh loved safi and i do think four years ago safi at least cared for vinh #but she certainly doesn’t anymore. and though he’ll always love her i don’t think it’s romantic anymore either #that’s my take!!! as bland as can be!!!!#thank you sm again !!!

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