#YOU CAN NO LONGER RELY ON YOUR SACRIFICE OF YOUR OWN DEATH TO RUN AWAY

[typenonsense]

hey. hey. is anyone else thinking about how this is the first time skizz gets to properly mourn a teammate. is anyone else thinking about the fact that this is the first grave he can lay flowers at, the first eulogy he spoke.

[wesimpforxiao]

Say My Name and I’ll Be There:  5.2

Author’s Note:  I saw this on pinterest and thought it applied to Xiao XD  P.S.  Do you readers like that the story is in 2nd POV, or should I change it to 3rd person?  My thinking is this POV allows me to get away without mentioning appearances or a chosen name so ya’ll could be put in OC’s shoes?

..............................

Is it just me, or is he looking my way?  You caught Childe in the act while you and your team retreated into the opposite tree line after Aether had taken the dragon tooth.  Something didn't feel right.  The trees seemed to close in on you like tunnel vision.  Was he planning on attacking you with the skirmishers at his side? Was he going to show his true colors now?  Is it time to face death?

He dismissed the soldiers and retreated from the direction you had all spotted the skirmishers in the first place.  He made a point to cast a meaningful glance your way.

I can't let it happen now, you looked to each of your teammates as you all ran through the snowy woods.  If he brought all of those Fatui agents on board with taking you out, the entire group would be overwhelmed.  The sheer cold puts us at a disadvantage.  Bennett could get hurt.  Xiao can't fight with his full strength.  When was the last time Aether and Childe sparred?  I can't rely on those results to protect me either.  

No one was paying attention; you could slip away and try to strike a deal with the Harbinger.  Bargain for Xiao's freedom and safety. You were hypersensitive to the weight of your coat on your shoulders, and the crunching of snow beneath your boots.  He can't hurt us now...not now!

You peeled away from the group and they continued to run towards a cave several hundred yards from their current position.  No one had heard you.  When you finally reached the first firepit, you found Childe waiting next to it.

"Oh there you are, ojou-chan!  Did you get the tooth? Where are the others?  They didn't run into trouble, did they?"  He greeted you with his signature friendly stature.

"Drop the act, Childe." You came to a halt maybe ten feet from him, with your back to the firepit.  It warmed your body significantly and you could finally feel your fingers and toes again.  He was on the far end of the open area.

"Whatever do you mean, ojou-chan?"  The mask didn't crack.

"We're alone now.  Is that what you wanted?"

Childe stared at you for a moment before breaking out into a loud fit of laughter.  "Oh ojou-chan, you know me so well〰"  He took a couple steps toward you.  "You should know I've been meaning to talk to you."

"That's close enough."  He stopped.  "I know what you're after."

"Oh?"  A dangerous glint sparked in his eyes, one that you've never seen before.  "Enlighten me then."

"I don't want Xiao dragged into whatever mess you brought upon us.  Whatever your plan entails, it ends with me."

"A noble sacrifice for a man that will not love you," he smirked.  "Why do you try to protect him when he can clearly fight for himself?"

"He's been through enough already," your hands closed into fists as you recalled his horrific past.  "I'll go with you, but only if you give me your word you won't take him too."

"Ha!  I feel no need to fight you, ojou-chan."  The sincerity in his voice attracted your gaze back to him.  "I don't wish to hurt you."

"Huh..?"  That's out of character.  Is this some sort of trap?

"I...have other goals in mind.  They require your cooperation, of course.  And your cutting of ties with the adeptus."

"Cutting ties?  Why would I do that?"  Your brows furrowed.

"My loyalty lies with the Tsaritsa, but I have a special interest with this mission after meeting you, ojou-chan," he made his way closer, and you stood in total confusion.  "I will personally see to it that you will not get harmed at all in Snezhnaya.  It all depends on your answer."

"You...I don't get what you mean.  What answer?  What exactly are you asking of me?"  Whatever it was, you sure as hell weren't going to agree with it.  But as soon as the questions left your lips, you knew.

He does like you.

Childe took note of the realization--and the fear--on your face and continued. "Surrender is a valid option, I promise I'll be gentle.  This is a simple route that avoids all the fighting and pain.  All you need to do is allow me to love you, and I won't harm your friends.  You have my word."

"L-love me?"  The words left a terrible taste in your mouth.  "I...I could never!  I could never love you, either!  You killed my Granny...you stole her house from her frail hands.  You...You!" Your sword made a metallic sound as it was unsheathed.

Childe inhaled and manifested his bow.  He nocked an arrow onto his finger and drew the string to his cheek.  "A most expected answer, ojou-chan.  Thank you for strengthening my resolve.  This will be much more enjoyable now."  Whatever turmoil that shone in his eyes was long gone  and replaced with pure malice.  "Let's make this a fair fight."  The arrow shot into the fire and extinguished it.

"Tch." You ran toward him as fast as you could in the snow, and crossed sword with lance.

"Not bad," your opponent grinned with satisfaction.  "Where'd you learn this technique from?"  You somehow managed to keep up with his unrelenting blows thanks to the muscle memory that belonged to Xiao.  "I don't recall the adeptus ever training you."

"Ngh!"  He landed a kick to your stomach and you fell into the snow.  Childe let you get back up, completely high on the thrill of fighting you and more than intent on dragging it out so he could watch your fighting spirit diminish.  I may be keeping up with him, but I can't land a solid blow like this.  You slowly removed your two remaining jackets and tossed them into the snow next to the extinguished firepit.  If I can somehow finish the fight quickly...You knew it was a hopeless battle.  A fight between a non-vision wielder and a harbinger that wields both vision and delusion? Complete and utter self-annihilation will ensue.

"I admire your tenacity, comrade," he watched the jackets fall.  "But now that I have my answer, there's no reason to wait any longer."  He shoved his lance towards you when your guard was down.

"I won't let you hurt him!"   You swung your blade to parry, and a sudden blast of material sent the two of you flying backwards into the snow.  Your vision was suddenly looking into the tree canopy.  "Ugh, wha--?"  You sat up to find ice shards scattered across the snow.  Something cool and metallic sat in your free hand.  You opened your palm to reveal what you least expected.

A vision.

You stared at your hand with bewilderment while Childe rose to his feet with a mixture of shock, admiration, and annoyance.  "I see.  An unexpected development," he remarked with cold eyes.  "It's a shame you won't have the chance to wield it properly against me.  He drew his bow and aimed for your chest.  Another block of ice manifested before the arrow could pierce you.

You placed the artifact into your jean pocket, and you rose to your feet with a newfound confidence.  Maybe you could beat him here and now.  Images of Xiao's fights involuntarily crossed your mind, and a lance of ice materialized in your hand.  You held it so that the tip pointed directly at Childe.

Another clashing of blades, this time converting Childe's into an ice sculpture.  But not before you had managed to freeze his leg into the snow for a hot second.  You ducked at his swings, parried his attacks, and followed through with a sequence of your own--or rather Xiao's--attacks.  It looked like you were gaining the upper hand until Childe caught your blade in his gloved palm.

"Thank you for the entertainment, ojou-chan," he growled.  "But this is where it ends for you."  Did you really think he hadn't studied your newfound techniques during your previous fighting session?  So naïve of you, ojou-chan.  You can't use the same tricks twice.

You retracted your weapon and lay waste another blow.  He easily parried it.  You engaged in a combo before swiping your feet at his legs; he leapt away before you could knock him down.  You were frustrated now, your movements becoming sloppier with each passing movement.

There's the real you, he mused.  His frozen blade dug into your dominant shoulder with such force that he had you pinned to a tree.  He felt nothing but sadistic pleasure course through his veins at the sight of you squirming in pain.

"Gah!" A shriek escaped your lips and your lance dropped from your hand.  You tried to claw the spear out of your body as he stalked ever closer to you.

"I don't even need Foul Legacy to kill you. You could never defeat me, not even in your wildest dreams," Childe stalked towards you as he twirled a new hydro polearm behind his body, stopping once its blade pressed against your neck.  He could kill you in an instant, and he would if he wasn't required to bring you alive.

You were seething with anger and hatred. It was stupid of you to go after him on your own, to seek a peaceful resolution to this conflict when you knew all along that there wouldn't be one. It didn't matter now. Your anger subsided, shoulders releasing themselves from the tension in your muscles once you thought of an idea. Even the pain in your dominant shoulder seemed to subside a bit.  Your sudden change in demeanor made Childe's grip loosen for a moment as he questioned the newfound peace emanating from you.

Your eyes closed and your lips curled into a smile. Adeptus Xiao, you called to him in your heart.Please hear me and answer my prayer for protection.

A sudden gust of wind blew against your back, and Childe faltered. He looked to you for an explanation, and you met his gaze through his mask. "I know, but he can."

Xiao burst into Childe at an incredible speed, knocking him square into another tree. The trunk splintered in half from the force.  He conjured his polearm and held its blade at Childe's throat. "Why the sudden politeness in your prayers?" He called out over his shoulder without taking his eye off the Harbinger.  I'm cursed with hearing her rambling whenever I'm gone, and only now she speaks politely to an illuminated adeptus?  Despite that thought, he actually loved hearing your voice reach his ears.

"I-I don't know.." WAIT, he COULD hear me all this time?!  Blush further tinted your pink cheeks that were red from the sheer cold.

"Tsk," Childe spit blood onto the snow and glared at the yaksha.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't decapitate you here."

Childe wasn't going to give him a reason and debated on conjuring his polearm instead.  Here he was, about to die at the hands of the damned yaksha, and all because he had decided to give you a chance to 'escape' a portion of the hardship that awaited you.  Signora would lose what respect she had for him if she ever found out.  Oh well.

"Ngh," you writhed against the tree.  Your feet were just inches from solid ground, making this injury all the more painful as you hung from the lance.  You couldn't move your dominant arm anymore.  Xiao let go of Childe's collar and moved to your aid.  He slipped your other arm over his shoulder so he could relieve the pressure off of your injury, then yanked the spear out without warning.  Your shout of pain scared the nearby foxes away.

Xiao gave the Harbinger one last glare before he lifted you in his arms and took off at an incredible speed.  It was only a matter of seconds before the two of you caught up with the rest of the group, who were waiting just inside a small cave that held mysterious lab equipment.

"Be careful,"  the yaksha set you on your feet but refused to remove your arm from around him.

"There you are!  W-where'd Childe go?"  Bennett paled when he saw your injury.  "Here, let me see that."  Aether, Paimon, and Xiao exchanged knowing looks while Bennett examined your shoulder.  "You should sit down.  This isn't anything I can't fix!"

"What happened? Did Childe...?" Aether trailed off once he returned with a bowl of water from a boiling pot.  

"Mn," you winced when Bennett peeled your shirt off of your bloody skin.  "I thought he was conspiring with those agents when we were making a run for it, so I followed him."

"A foolish decision," Xiao grumbled.  He took the water from Aether and held it to your lips.

"Were you at least able to find anything else out about his plans? Or Signora?"  Paimon spoke up.  "It's not worth getting hurt over if you just throw yourself in harm's way like that."

"I thought he was going to..." your eyes flicked to Xiao's for a split second before they fell to the ground.  '--Hurt you,' you wanted to say.  But the yaksha would not hear of it if you said something so foolishly naïve.  You were just a measly human after all, with little knowledge of fighting and a large heart that wanted to protect those around her.  A big heart could only go so far; it proved useless in your battle today.  Or did it?  You nearly jumped up when you remembered, "I have something! I got something from this!"  Your loud yelp scared the daylights out of Bennett, and he nearly yanked the stitch out that he had just put into your skin.  You dug into your pocket and pulled out the artifact.

"Is that--?!"  Paimon and Aether sprung to their feet simultaneously.

"A vision?"  Xiao's eyes widened slightly.  And a cryo one, at that.

"So cool!" Paimon spun around with excitement.  "You're officially one of us now! Er, not that you weren't to begin with--"

"Congrats,"  Aether nodded and flashed you a toothy grin.  

"Yeah, congrats!"  Bennett also flashed you a bright smile and observed the trinket in your palm.  "Wow, we're like, polar opposites!"

"Heh, yeah," you nodded with a faint smile.  Your eyes found Xiao's, which were locked onto your vision.  "Xiao?"

"You received a blessing from the very god that's hunting you.  Do you not find that odd?"  His lack of enthusiasm made your chest ache in disappointment.  

Was he not proud of such an accomplishment?

"Yeah now that you mention it," Paimon held her chin and thought.  "It is really weird.  Why would she make her target more powerful? Wouldn't that just make it more difficult for her to capture you?"

"Did Childe say anything about it?"  Aether prompted.

"No," you shook your head slightly and pursed your lips.  "He seemed as surprised as I was."

To be blessed with the cryo vision, one must commit an act that revolves around love, Xiao's brows furrowed.  Had she done something on the behalf of her grandmother, or is this all in the Cryo Archon's plan?  It never crossed his mind that you had gotten it on his behalf.

[myrulia]

An Oiran's Sacrifice - Kokushibou x Oiran!Reader

Oiran

Oiran (花魁) was a specific category of high ranking courtesan in Japanese history. Divided into a number of ranks within this category, oiran were considered – both in social terms and in the entertainment they provided – to be above common prostitutes, known as yūjo (遊女, lit. 'woman of pleasure')

Warnings: Strong language, prostitution

Word count: 3758

Next chapter

`` Why must you do this to yourself? ``

`` For my family. ``

`` Family means nothing if you are working as a self degrading prostitute. ``

`` It is what I must do if I wish to live. ``

               ◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

It was yet another late evening, alone in your compact minka, yet it never was a bother, for this was how you usually spent your nights. Due to your poor living style, your father was driven to thievery. It was the only way to keep the two of you somewhat fed, clothes on your back, and a roof over your heads. Your living style has helped you become more grateful of any small blessing that came along your way. Even the smallest fortune would put a smile on your face because it ended the little sorrow in your heart at the realization of your poverty.

``[Y/N],`` You heard a voice beckon to you. The voice you knew all too well at this time of night that originated from the only person who would even dare leave do commit such crimes. `` Coming father. ``

Getting up slowly from your dimly candle lit chabudai, you scurried your way to the wooden door of your minka, letting inside the only other family member you had, your father. Watching how he takes slow strides inside the bleak, wooden-paneled small space of your home, you mentally cursed yourself for ever allowing yourself to come to terms with your reality. Deep down you hated how the man in front of you risked his life nearly every night just to make sure the two of you were fed, yet, it is not like you could do much to change your misfortune, for it is your depressing reality.

`` Miracles do happen [Y/N]. I promise you, with this, we can finally turn our life around, and leave this dreadful place. `` Being intrigued by your father's words, you eyed the gleaming object in his hands that you unfortunately recognized. `` Father, why? From the Suzuki family no less? They will have our heads if we are to be caught..! ``

Your worry was bothersome to your father. He knew just as much as you what the consequences are if he was ever to be caught. It wasn't easy for the male to successfully loot the expensive statue in hand, so you didn't doubt he'd do his best to hide any evidence of his caper. You couldn't help but worry of your future, because the Suzuki family was the most wealthiest family in your little mountain-side village. Known for being ruthless to anyone that disrupts their peace and fortune, the Suzukis will not tolerate such thievery inflicted upon them, which is why your worry only increased even more because you did love your father of course, and to see his head served on a silver platter was gut wrenching.

`` [Y/N], rest assured that we will not be caught. We will use this to escape this little village and live somewhere safer, maybe in the forest like your mother always wanted. We can live a peaceful life without relying on thievery. Please, my beautiful blessing of a daughter, place your trust into me. `` You merely sighed at your father's declaration. You knew he'd pull the mother card on you just to persuade your emotions even more to agree with his actions. Obviously you do not, because at the end of the day stealing is bad and punishable by death, so the constant worry always lingered in your heart.

`` I do not care if we are the lesser fortunate of our village, I just want to you to stop stealing. I already have a job- ``

`` That barely pays you enough. This is why I do what I must to keep us alive. I am ending this conversation here, I do not want to hear another word from you [Y/N]. Now, please get your much needed rest, you are developing eye bags. `` With those somewhat encouraging words to actually get some rest, you trudge your way to your comfortable futon, which wasn't too much of a distance because everything was set in the same confinded room of your one room house.

Your father blew out the warm colored candle before getting comfortable in the similar futon next to you, letting out a small groan as his muscles seemed to relax. Letting a small sigh escape your lips, you turned over so that you were laying on your side. Whilst closing your eyes, you finally allowed yourself to escape into a somewhat peaceful slumber, since you strongly believed you were in the clear from being beheaded in public since your father managed to get away unscathed.

Just as quickly as you fell asleep, you found yourself waking up to the bright light of the sunrise that glistened through the only window of your home. Yawning, you covered your mouth while slipping out of the warm fabrics of your futon, peeling open your eyes slowly. From how quickly you woke up, you felt as though it was going to be a rather long day. Truth be told you wish you had the urge to sleep longer, for you did not wish to face the day with a guilty conscience lingering over your head as a constant reminder of what your father does in the wake of the night.

`` Father, we have lots to do today, please wake up. `` Expecting to hear a soft groan in return, you turn your head to the now empty futon before you. Shock was all that was found on your face, because your usual routine was to wake up your father and start the day by finding any food to buy from the market place, but that is not the case today. Your father was gone.

`` Father? FATHER?! ``

Worry took over your emotions just as fast as your shock did. The man who was usually still in bed was no longer there so obviously you'd do your best to look all over for him. Getting out of your futon just as speedily as you woke up, you slipped on your geta shoes and bolted out of your living space and onto the busy street of your village. It was all too sickening when you tried to make sense of the situation, but only one solution came to mind. That solution only seemed to make more sense as you ran through the people-covered streets, pulling up your kimono just a bit so it'd be easier to run around until a loud boisterous voice was heard from the townsquare that confirmed every suspicion you had.

`` This pitiful man chose to steal from me! How sad that his life must end like this. It is only fair that death is his punishment for taking a precious family artifact right? `` The cheers of those in the audience caused a ringing in your ears. That was your father they were wishing death upon, and yet nobody seemed to care. As long as their own heads were on their shoulders, they were fine.

Pushing past the multiple men and women in front of you, you managed to escape from the crowd, yet to your disapproval, you were now directly in front of the cause of all the commotion, Suzuki Kenta. Your act of boldness triggered all eyes to be on you, but you could care less. You did not want to lose yet another family member in the arms of selfish people. So, bowing down quickly, you mustered up the confidence to beckon out to the head of the Suzuki family. `` Suzuki-san, as this pitiful mans daughter, I beseech of you to please, spare his life. He knew it was wrong yet it was only to save us both from the misfortune inflicted upon us!! Please, I beg of you..! ``

In your desperate plea, your eyes became bloodshot since tears were welling up on your bottom eyelid. Now looking up from your bowing stance, Suzuki Kenta had prominent veins on his face that showed his distasteful attitude towards your cry of desperation. It was obvious the angered male did not want an interruption, especially from a poor female no less, so obvious agitation was expected.

`` This woman.. really believes she can save this scum of a man... how cute. `` Kenta took slow strides to your smaller, still beneath him, form. You could practically feel him looming over you in utter disgust for ever believing you could persuade such a powerful man himself. Deep down you had a feeling that both your heads would be severed off, or hanged and humiliated publicly for your foolish actions. Who would believe this is how you unfortunately came to your end. Desperately trying to save your thieving father, knowing what he did was wrong? Bitter. The Bitter truth always hurts.

`` Look at me. ``

And as just as quick as he said his order, you gave in and risen your head from the ground, your cheeks being stained by hot tears rolling down your face, looking even more pathetic than what you had wished. Although if it was going to save your father's life, then so be it. If you were going to look like the dirt that everybody walked on, then that is what you will do. Sacrifices like these were common you, especially saving your own fathers life multiple times before this so this was nothing new.

`` You are just as pitiful as your father. You wish to save this low life man who had the audacity to steal from me? `` Kenta snarled in distaste. You had no choice but to stay silent, for there was a blade in the male's hand that he could use any second to take your life, and if you wanted to live, you needed to be careful and word your sentences just as carefully. `` I apologize on his behalf, I wish to make it up to you Sakimi-san. ``

`` Clever girl.. I have taken rather a liking to you. You are smart and you know your place, I will respect that. `` Letting out a relieved sigh, you eye the weapon in his hand before averting your gaze back to his twisted and still somewhat agrivated face. Kenta looked as if he was contemplating something in his head, all the while his bodyguards made your bloodied father watch everything unfold before him without a say in anything.

`` You do have quite the beautiful face, and a body that compliments you oh so well. I will give you two options Miss Fujisaki, you either return the stolen item and watch your father die here and now, or, you become an oiran for my lovely son. Pick wisely, and immediately. I expect an answer now. ``

Murmers were heard from the crowd who also stayed to watch the commotion unravel before them. Of course everyone knew all too well what the life of a low ranking oiran is, and knowing that the options given were supposed to be a punishment, you were going to be no more than a yujo, working as a sex slave for Sakimi's sex hungry son. But, if it meant saving your father's life, then so be it. `` I will accept the life as an oiran.. Sakimi-san.. ``

`` Perfect! I didn't want to get this perfectly good suit dirty so gentlemen, let the scum go. `` Just as quickly as Kenta snapped his fingers, the bodyguards let your father go. Seeing his bloodied and beaten to a pulp body ignited a fire in your heart as he tried his best to make his way over to you. `` Father please save your energy, we'll get you some help.. `` you addressed as he pulled you into a tight embrace.

`` Oh do not worry! My men will get him the help he needs in due time, for now please allow yourself to be escorted to my estate for further details of your new living space. ``

`` I thought I was an oiran, do I not have the decision of going back home. ``

`` My lotus, please do not talk ba- ``

`` You will be nothing more than a yujo. Your face is sweet but your tongue is bitter, and so as a punishment you will be completely submissive for my son. ``

Your eyes practically doubled in size. The fact that Kenta believes you are so willing to not at least have a shred of your dignity left is beyond anything you ever thought of. After being publicly humiliated, you'd at least expect for him to understand how you felt, but at the end of the day, selfish rich people know no boundaries. Sighing once more with your father in your arms, you slowly stand on both your dusty legs, all the while helping your father keep his balance. ''Fine then..'' was all you said.

You found yourself now following the Sakimi bodyguards, for they were escorting you to the one and only Sakimi estate. It was rather large and sat on an even larger hill, so the trail up the grand staircase was a bit of a hike for the beaten man that you loved so dearly. During the entire walk it truly allowed you to comprehend your reality for the rest of your life. You were going to be a oiran, the lowest ranking form of oiran no less. It had your blood boiling with how easily you are so willing to save your father from death time and time again.

Since the small little hike would end soon, you took the chance to take in your surroundings. It wasn't like your previous way of living in the village, but a more extravagant way of living. There were statues with small-scale ponds in front of them that had different colored koi fish inside. The afternoon brightness of the sun reflected upon the water, but that was not the only thing because you could catch a glimpse of your dirtier form from your bow of respect from earlier. Looking back you realize the man who you will be working for deserved now ounce of respect, for your body was yours, even if you were to be a yujo you'd still keep your dignity.

Other than that, in your barely noticeable reflection, even under all the small specs of dirt and filth, your face resembled your mother. You pretty much looked like a copy and paste version of the woman so it was no surprise that you had her beautiful features. Above all that it still saddened you that from above, she'd be watching her daughter become a self degrading prostitute if it meant saving her dear father from execution. A reality, that was so tart to even look at in the eyes of others.

`` Ahem.. Fujisaki, ``you heard a feminine voice call out to you. It was shocking so your head whipped to the side to whoever called out to you. To your misfortune, it was the head oiran of the Sakimi estate. Lowering your head out of respect, you partially gripped your father's shirt out of nervousness because it would be the start of a new chapter in your life that you never wanted to reach. `` Now that I have your attention, let me look at you. ``

Before you knew it your father was ripped from your arms by the same bodyguards who held him at knife point. Your face of worry was noticed by those around you, so to direct your attention the head oiran, who you had yet to introduce herself to you, held your face in her amazingly soft hands. `` Ignore them, they're going to patch him up and send him home. You, my beautiful underling, will be coming with me and my ladies. ``

Her boldness wasn't shocking, so following her didn't make you as uncomfortable as you perceived it would be. The beautiful woman who held your wrist as you finally entered the large minka, had started speaking so quickly that your mind took a bit to process. `` I am the head oiran known as the tayu and you are my precious little yujo. I'm Sakura, over there is Jade, that's Blossom, and there is Waterlily. You will address us by our oiran names only and the same goes for you. You will no longer be "Fujisaki," but rather a lovely name, Lotus. ``

The irony in that moment made you want to cringe. You only permitted your father to call you such a thing, but now that it is what others shall be addressing you, it caused an obvious look of discomfort to be plastered on your face. Just as suddenly as Sakura stopped talking, she just as suddenly dragged you to another, more secluded, area of the minka. Inside the room she pulled you in looked like an oversized closet, easily bigger than your one room home.

`` In here is where you shall prepare yourself to look proper, right now you look like actual filth, so please, make yourself look presentable for Master. ``

Before you could utter out a single word, Sakura left you, alone in a pretty large room without any guidance. During the time your mother was with you, the both of you would pass men with many different beautiful women surrounding him. Despite being too young to fully understand their jobs, your mother simply said, `` They are called oirans my dear, beautiful women for service. ``

With that in mind, you remembered how the others look and tried your best to copy their image. Grabbing a nearby hakuhodo, you dipped the end into the white power and began gently stroking your face, turning your fair skin milky white. It was a longer process than anticipated so once you were done you had to message your muscles because making sure the powerdy substance stayed on your face took the longest. You felt embarrassed to call for help, so you being you decided to do everything yourself. Grabbing what you perceived to be an eyeliner pencil, you tried to keep your hand steady as you basically used yourself as a canvas of art.

Unfortunately it was another long process because a few strokes were a bit wobbly, but finally perfecting the look made you feel a sense of pride that you could do such things yourself. Grabbing one more brush, you dabbed the end into a red power and brushed lightly where the end of your eye starts and stopped just about before your hair line. Moving onto the multiple shades of lipsticks, you grabbed a bright red and began applying the shade onto your lips. `` I look ridiculous, don't I mother? ``

Your tilted your head up to imagine her soft laughter at how content you are with your actions. You still felt pride in the fact that you were able to successfully look like a professional oiran without help from the tayu. Smiling gently to yourself, you got up from the plush chair to look for your new kimono that'd you'd be working in starting from that point on. When you came to no prevail, you sighed once more while scampering your way to the wooden sliding door. `` Sakura-san? ``

`` Yes my underling? `` Was all the beautiful woman said from a little ways away. Telling by the gentleness of her voice, she wasn't too busy at the moment so you scurried over to her as quickly as you could.

`` If you are not busy at the moment Sakura-san.. may you help me with my kimono?``

`` Of course not my little lotus, come with me. ``

Following behind her yet again, she leads the both of you into the dressing rooms where you originated from. Her movements were fluid and as gracefully as she could, pulled out each layer of kimono you'd be wearing for the one they called "master." Placing each layer onto a nearby chair, she faces you with a softer expression while holding your face in her hands once more, like earlier. `` For a fresh underling, your make-up is more professional than most. I must admit that I am proud of you my Lotus, so please hurry and get dressed so I can give you a proper tour of the Sakimi estate. ``

And with that, Sakura left, leaving you to your disposal of getting dressed. Unfortunately she hadn't told you the order of each layer, so it was more like a ball game to see if you actually got it correct. From your eyes, it seemed like everything was a test to see just how much you knew about an oirans job. In contrast, you were a clever one, so it wasn't too tough to memorize the oirans you passed as a child, remembering each layer and how they dress accordingly.

Yet again, another long process which you figured out all on your own.

Looking in the mirror, you no longer recognized your mothers features on your own face. In your eyes, you saw another person entirely, that was no longer you. To everyone else you'd be known as Lotus, not [Y/N] Fujisaki. It was the future you brought upon yourself, so keeping your chin raised high, you took slow strides out of the dressing room and looked for Sakura who was supposed to give you a proper tour, but to no avail, you did not see the woman from earlier.

And so, you took it upon yourself to look around until you found yourself on the engawa that wrapped around the entire minka. The evening breeze hitting your face as you looked down at the small forest beside, taking in the sunset cascading down upon you. You hadn't expected for the entire day to simply rush by. It felt like just yesterday you were waiting for your father to return from his capers almost every night, but no longer shall he steal, owing to the fact that you'd make money as a yujo.

This was your life, and you had no say in how it was to go for the rest of your days.

◇◆◇◆◇✧◇◆◇◆◇

`` Ohhh..~ She is a pretty one Kokushibou-dono~ I want her as my next meal. ``

Kokushibou, who wasn't listening to the Upper Moon Two, eyed a woman who had changed entirely since the last time he had seen her. His confusion didn't go unnoticed due to the Upper Moon One usually having a stoic expression. `` You seem to have taken a liking to her? How pitiful she is nothing but a prostitute n- ``

Before the demon could finish his sentence, one swift movement of Kokushibou's blade had his head off in seconds.

`` Silence, Douma. ``

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

[the-dubstep-strawberry]

Blind Betrayal: In Defense of Elder Maxson

(I have no idea what prompted me to go full Elder Maxson Defense Squad late at night, but I’m having thoughts on this that won’t leave me alone, so here goes...)

Picture this.

You are Arthur Maxson. 

You’re a member of a famous family line known for leadership, courage, wisdom, survival, tactical genius, accomplishing feats of glory in battle, and so on and so forth. 

You are also the last member of that family line. 

As a result, you have not only been saddled from birth with Expectations of Greatness, but with the terrible knowledge that if you fuck it up, you have doomed your entire bloodline to extinction and potentially placed the future of your faction - your home, family, friends, comrades, and whole way of life - in severe jeopardy.

No pressure.

You’re also twenty years old. 

You were orphaned as a child and were quite shy, but you were also quite bright, creative, maybe a bit of a daydreamer. You liked to write stories and thought Liberty Prime was cool. The Scribe caste might have been a good niche for you. Unfortunately, you are Arthur Maxson, Last of His Line, and any control that you might have had over your own life has already been overridden by people older, wiser and more powerful than you. They’ve decided that you had to learn how to be a Knight and go charging into battle to perpetuate your family’s glorious reputation in combat, but also not to get yourself killed or else Your Whole Faction Is Doomed (again, no pressure).

So you learned to be a Knight, and probably got kicked up the ranks a little faster than most teenagers because not being a child prodigy was not an option for a Maxson. Luckily for you, you were able to live up to at least some of the hype, pulled off some brilliant tactical and diplomatic moves to crush Super Mutant invasions and incidentally reunite a rogue chapter, which became disillusioned on ideological grounds and left years ago, with the rest of your faction.

Nice job. Your fans will probably fill in the gaps with a little extra stardust and hype, so if you flubbed your lines once in a while, it’s probably not going into the Codex.

And now you’re Elder of the Brotherhood of Steel. Your entire faction looks to you for leadership and relies upon you for survival. You have quite a large army at your command and have cultivated an impressive reputation, and have now decided to leave your usual stomping grounds; you’ve embarked upon an ambitious campaign to liberate humanity from the sinister clutches of The Institute and the army of synths that they’re hoping to replace actual humans with. People expect nothing but complete and total victory from you. This is no time to screw things up.

(Did I mention that you’re twenty? Most guys your age are still finding their way around their Power Armor, goofing off in the barracks, chasing after girls, getting into hijinks on shore leave, and so on. But you are Arthur Maxson, and you have Responsibilities. No slack whatsoever will be cut here, and failure is not an option. If you go down, the Brotherhood of Steel falls with you and it will be your fault.)

Everything appears to be going well, the new Pre-War recruit is exceeding expectations and even grumpy Knight Rhys appears to merely resent their existence. All is going according to plan...

... until you find out that one of your men, Paladin Danse, a highly respected field officer of many years’ standing, is not what he appears to be.

You have long been impressing upon your crew the need to completely eradicate any and all synths because they are The Enemy and will destroy mankind, but one of them has infiltrated your senior command and knows all kinds of key strategic stuff about your faction, classified stuff, military intelligence, and other things that you really do not want The Enemy to know. If he’s been reporting back to them, they will soon know how to destroy your faction from the inside out.

He has also gone missing in suspicious circumstances and you think your new recruit, who was training under his wing, knows - or can at least find out - where he is. You’ve made efforts to keep this quiet while you tried to verify this intelligence with the rest of your senior officers - checking and double-checking, because holy shit, how could this have happened? This can’t be true. You don’t want it to be true. You trusted this man as a fellow officer and as a friend, and always spoke of his abilities and character in glowing terms. But this is not only a personal betrayal - it’s a professional one, with potentially far-reaching consequences. After all, how can your judgment be trusted if you confided in someone who was sent as an enemy agent to infiltrate and betray the Brotherhood? This could potentially destabilize the Brotherhood of Steel’s entire command structure and spell doom for yourself, your men, and possibly even humanity itself.

So now your faction is unexpectedly in mortal peril and the shit has hit the fan. Word has gotten out about this revelation and people are talking. Whispering, in fact. All the while, looking to you to see what needs to be done about this problem.

It’s clear what has to be done. However much you liked Paladin Danse, he is potentially a traitor with too much important information about your faction, and he cannot be allowed to run loose - or, worse still, report back to the enemy which placed him in your midst in the first place. So you send your new recruit after him, with the strict instruction that he is to be terminated. 

You are, naturally, very pissed about all this and want the problem to go away as soon as possible. A threat to the safety and integrity of your faction, which has already splintered off into rival groups once, to disastrous effect, over disagreements with the general direction and trustworthiness of its leadership, is an unacceptable existential threat. You are not about to let the Brotherhood disintegrate on your watch. You can’t. You have no choice but to keep this together.

Unfortunately, there is a problem. Danse is very sincerely professing to know nothing about his true identity and claims to have always served the Brotherhood with unfailing loyalty. Your new recruit is inclined to believe him and is refusing to follow through on their mission objective.

You have no idea if he is telling the truth, or if he has been programmed to say this convincingly - so much so that he possibly even believes it himself. You are most likely incredibly pissed off by this whole situation, but there are greater things at stake here. 

Like humanity’s future. And your faction and family legacy not being torn apart by internal division, with great risk of harm and death to the people who rely upon you for protection, justice and their very survival.

You can order that Danse be killed and know, whatever happens, that your faction will be safe from betrayal to its sworn enemy, even if the poor guy didn’t even know that he was being sent to spy on the people he was taught to call his brothers and sisters. You are very aware that this is a horrible outcome if he proves to be an unwitting party and genuinely unaware of his origins, but also acutely aware that if you start recanting your own statements about synths being The Enemy, you run the risk of undermining your entire campaign, losing the trust and respect of your men and your senior command staff, and possibly even being deposed as Elder. You were appointed Elder after a succession of unsuccessful candidates followed in the Lyons’ wake, and it’s very likely that whoever will take over from you will be - at best - a lesser candidate, and at worst, a potentially disastrous choice who will lead the Brotherhood into ruin, despair, madness, death, etc, etc.  You know damn well that weak leaders don’t last long in the wasteland, and neither do leaderless factions. This is potentially a choice between Danse’s survival, or the Brotherhood’s - you can sacrifice a single hapless soldier to appease the threat of Scylla, or opt for Charybdis to try to spare him and risk having your whole ship pulled out from underneath you, condemning yourself and countless others to a terrible fate.

Or... you’ve been given a potential out. You can declare the former Paladin dead, but spare him by way of permanent exile, upon pain of death should he ever return. Only the new recruit will know the truth. Danse will still potentially be running around as someone who Knows Too Much about the Brotherhood’s military secrets, which is obviously a less than desirable state of affairs, but he will no longer be in a position to continue to spy and report back, so that aspect of the (perceived or actual) threat has, at least, been permanently removed. This option is merciful and, if you’re really honest with yourself, you probably prefer this one because it lets you off the hook to a degree and you no longer have to kill a trusted officer and friend. However, it also requires you to assume a great deal of personal risk, particularly to your reputation as a leader. What are your men going to say if they see the “dead” guy running around the Commonwealth and it becomes clear that you have not only failed to execute a traitor, but lied about it to everybody in your faction? How are you going to explain why you refused to kill someone who was planted in your organization’s ranks by a sworn enemy?

You have to choose one or the other. You’re the leader of the Brotherhood and this is a particularly shitty dilemma which you would really prefer not to be in, but you were appointed because these kinds of impossible decisions frequently arise in times of war, and you know that effective leaders sometimes have to make deeply unpleasant choices, opting to sacrifice one man in order to protect many more.

Either way, there’s going to be a downside and you’re either going to be regarded as a complete asshole (even if people are forced to reluctantly agree that you didn’t have much choice in the matter and acted out of concern for the safety of the Brotherhood and the success of your mission), or you can risk a great deal - perhaps far too much - all for the sake of a man you’re no longer sure you can trust, because good leaders are merciful and Danse has never steered you wrong before, even though he’s had plenty of opportunity to do so in the past.

It’s a hell of a decision and not one to be made lightly, but you have to make it nonetheless. You may be twenty years old, but the world is depending on you all the same, and there’s no way out of this one. The fates of you, your men, your mission, Danse, and all of humanity are potentially at stake and riding on that one decision.

Choose wisely, Elder.

[traincat]

I feel like I've read a ton, but I'm honestly still pretty new to comics rn. That being said... What is one more day? Ik we don't like it and it happened a while ago, but that's about it [,=

Time for Spider-Man History With Traincat: Highly Controversial Storylines! And that feeling is totally normal with comics with huge canons -- you can read a ton and still have some fairly big blindspots in your understanding of the total picture. That being said, this is kind of a big one, both in terms of Spider-Man history/canon and in terms of how Spider-Man fandom functions. I would say probably no other storyline has had quite as much impact on how the fandom views and interacts with the source material as One More Day/Brand New Day. It's been the Wild West out here ever since it happened. (Which was in 2007, so like, yes, fairly long ago, especially when you look at how Spider-Man canon has evolved since, but in the grand scheme of things, also kind of recent. One More Day is not old enough to rent a car.)

So when people talk about Spider-Man's One More Day, they're usually actually talking about two related arcs: One More Day and Brand New Day. For the sake of simplicity, I'm going to be covering both. For the sake of transparency, I am going to admit that I think One More Day, as a self-contained story, is good, actually. This is controversial! I admit that! But I stand by my stupid opinions on this blog, for some reason. I think One More Day when you examine it on its own, by which I mean you ignore the decade and a half worth of canon that came after it, as a Spider-Man story and as a PeterMJ-centric story holds up under scrutiny and that people who don't like it don't like complicated love stories and might actually throw their own mothers under buses. No offense to the OMD haters. Little bit of offense to the OMD haters. Brand New Day, which is the continuation of One More Day, on the other hand -- largely bad. Very largely bad.

But let's backtrack. One More Day is a four issue crossover storyline that takes place directly after Civil War, during which Iron Man and Captain America got divorced and divvied up the superhero community and Spider-Man made some startlingly bad decisions and made a fugitive out of himself and his family in a manner that got Aunt May shot, and Spider-Man: Back in Black (Amazing Spider-Man #539–543) which examines Peter's actions immediately after Aunt May is shot and ends with him humiliating the Kingpin in front of an entire prison. One More Day consists of Amazing Spider-Man #544 -> Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man #24 -> Sensational Spider-Man v2 #41 -> Amazing Spider-Man #545. In One More Day, Aunt May is dying, all of Peter's efforts to save her have thus far failed, and, consumed by guilt, he is rapidly running out of time. Approached by Mephisto, a literal demon from hell, Peter is offered a deal: Aunt May will live -- and Peter's identity, which was previously revealed to the world at large during Civil War, will once again be hidden from the memories of all but a select few -- if Peter trades him his marriage to Mary Jane. Peter and Mary Jane struggle with this, but eventually both agree to the deal. The clock strikes twelve, the deal is done, and Peter and Mary Jane's marriage fades into history.

(ASM #545) A reasonably simple premise for a story that caused so many problems -- most, I would argue, not actually the original story's fault. So obviously, this was an unpopular move -- Peter and Mary Jane had for a long time been a fan favorite Marvel couple, and in a fictional universe where most relationships are doomed as soon as they begin, the enduring Spider-Marriage was sacred ground. And then, with a snap of its fingers, it was gone: Peter wakes up in Aunt May's house, no longer married, with Mary Jane out of the picture. (She would not return to the book on any sort of consistent basis for over 50 issues.) In the wake of One More Day began Brand New Day, which is basically what it sounds like: a promised "brand new day" of "exciting" Spider-Man content and a publishing schedule where Amazing Spider-Man came out three times a month. (Which sounds good on paper but I think in practice caused more problems than it created good storylines.) Peter, newly single again, had new love interests! And also Harry Osborn was alive again for some reason! I generally like Harry's post-BND stories so that part's fine with me.

But overall? Brand New Day is a mess. It knows it wants to tread new and exciting ground with Peter -- tell new stories! ensnare new readers! make them fork out for a book three times a month. -- but it doesn't know what those stories should be. Readers who were invested in Peter and Mary Jane's relationship -- a major facet of Spider-Man comics for decades at that point -- felt rightfully betrayed that the marriage could be so easily traded in and that Mary Jane herself, perhaps the second most important figure in Spider-Man comics after Peter, could be tossed aside. From a personal point of view, I think Brand New Day fails in large part because it abandons what has always made Spider-Man such a compelling series, and that's the mix of Peter's personal life with his vigilante life. BND sees Peter with new friends, new jobs, new love interests, etc -- it is very much a brand new day! But it isn't a better day compared to the stories that came before it. I do like some post-BND stories, especially American Son (ASM #595-599) and Grim Hunt (ASM #634-637), but compared to pre-BND where I think the majority of canon is good, it's a very lacking body of work that is hurt by the way it divorced itself from the PeterMJ marriage as Spider-Man's central relationship.

"But Traincat, I thought you said you liked One More Day?" Yeaaaaah. I do. This is why I keep saying I like One More Day on its own merits, and not on the merits of the stories it opened the doors for. I like a good romantic tragedy in fiction, and the way Peter and Mary Jane's final scene in One More Day plays out is beautiful. I like the idea of Peter caught in this impossible situation, being asked to choose between two women he loves more than his own life. A really common criticism I see leveled against One More Day is that Peter should have chosen his relationship with Mary Jane over May's life, which is -- okay, I think it's weird that people keep insisting on this, not in the least because by asking Peter to sacrifice his aunt's life they're essentially demanding he commit a callous, out of character act in order to further his own interests. It's also weird because the thing is, Peter already chose Mary Jane over May -- that's what gets them into this situation. It's literally in the scene where May is shot:

(ASM #538) When the gun goes off, Peter's spider-sense kicks in, and he covers Mary Jane, leaving May in the path of the bullet. He does choose Mary Jane over May, regardless of whether he realized what he was doing. And that's why he can't make that choice a second time. His actions in One More Day do make sense for him as a character, whether or not any individual reader likes them, and Mary Jane's actions make sense, too -- after all, she's the one who ultimately tells Mephisto that they agree to the deal when Peter can't bring himself to voice it.

A lot of people also like to nitpick One More Day by going, well, why could (x) or (y) with life saving powers save Aunt May which is like -- yeah, I guess, but if we're going to ask that about this specific comic book near death setup, you kind of have to do it with every single one, and I'm not going to stake every single moment of comic book drama on whether or not that gold kid from the X-Men was busy at the time. Comics are soap operas in flimsy paper form: serialized longform storytelling that relies heavily on melodrama. Sometimes you have to go with things. Sometimes you sell your marriage to the devil. Stuff happens. That in and of itself doesn't make One More Day a bad story -- and while some people blame the Spider-Marriage's dissolution entirely on One More Day, I think that's a little shortsighted when you look at the history of Spider-Man since the turn of the century. It's clear -- and Marvel themselves have been perhaps a little too open about this -- that Marvel in the past few decades has had trouble with the direction they want to take Spider-Man. They WANTED Spider-Man to appeal to a distinctly youthful audience that they didn't think they were actually reaching -- understandable, considering that Marvel nearly went bankrupt around 2000 and was saved by Ultimate Spider-Man, an out of main continuity series which retold Spider-Man from the beginning and focused heavily on Peter as a teen -- but the problem was Spider-Man in the main continuity was at that point in canon a happily married man who was pushing the dreaded 30 whether or not they wanted to admit that. This is also why Marvel has continually pivoted away from Spider-Man having kids, because they feared that making him a dad would age him too much and make him unrelatable to their coveted audience of Teens. (This is also why almost every new Spider-Man property, especially the live action movies, perpetually stick him back into high school, despite that occupying a very small slice of 616 canon.) So around the year 2000, they started trying things in relation to the Spider-Marriage, which was viewed as a major problem -- after all, what's more adult than being married and liking your wife. First, they had Mary Jane presumed dead. Then, they had Mary Jane and Peter separate. Then, when Mary Jane and Peter had only recently gotten back together, One More Day struck. If One More Day specifically hadn't gone the way it had, it's pretty clear that the Spider-Marriage was going to go one way or another -- it's a little bit of a shame it happened when it did, because OMD is the end of J Michael Straczynski's run, and JMS wrote a really beautiful Peter and MJ relationship. But Marvel as a company and especially editor in chief at the time Joe Quesada viewed Peter and Mary Jane's relationship as a major problem in how they wanted to portray Spider-Man and thought that striking the relationship from the books would allow them more freedom in their portrayal of him as younger and more relatable to their Desired Audience of people who I guess really wanted to see Peter sleep with characters who weren't Mary Jane.

(ASM #546. Younger! Fresher! Less attached! Kissing random women in the club!)

The problem with One More Day has always been in the follow through -- from the content of Brand New Day to the pacing of events to the fact that Marvel withheld key information for such a long time that it allowed misinformation to thrive. After all, what does it MEAN to trade Peter and Mary Jane's marriage to the devil? It altered the events of canon in Peter and the majority of other characters' memories so that the marriage didn't exist, but it left people wondering -- did the relationship as they remembered it existed? How much of Spider-Man canon was altered? And the answers didn't come for over 100 issues of Amazing Spider-Man. One Moment In Time or OMIT (Amazing Spider-Man #638-641), which revealed that while Peter and Mary Jane never got married in the altered canon they did continue their long committed relationship up until just after Civil War, was published in 2010, so essentially readers were hung out to dry without answers for three years. That's a long time to string people along, but not as long as it took Marvel to confirm that the popular fan theory that Mary Jane retained her memories of the original timeline as part of her own deal with Mephisto was also true, which happened this year. I would say, at least from my perspective, a lot of the frustration doesn't come from the individual One More Day storyline so much as how Marvel has continually dragged out the aftermath, using the promise of a Spider-Marriage return to keep fans on the hook. Which is why One More Day continually comes up in discussion of current Spider-Man, because Spencer's run has relied very heavily on imagery from that period with a serious question of whether or not there actually was going to be payoff, something which is still up in the air.

This has been Spider-Man History With Traincat, brought to you by anonymice like you.

[pennylaneforthoughts]

Lokius Hogwarts AU

All right my dudes, hot take time:

I’ve seen a lot of Hogwarts AU headcanons floating around, and having thought waaaaaay too much about it, I’m here to add my two cents.

( @sortinghatchats has my favorite sorting system I’ve seen to date, since it goes so much in depth into themes throughout the HP series that good ol’ JK barely touches on in her pretty surface level commentary on the subject, so that’s the system I’m gonna use. Go to their blog to learn more about the way the system works bc I’m too lazy to go more in depth than I already have.)

This is gonna be Hella Long tho so I’m putting it under a cut.

Loki: Petrified Slytherin Primary/Slytherin Secondary - sorting: Slytherin House

Perhaps it may seem trite, but Loki really is a Slytherin Primary at heart. Yes he is ambitious and all that stereotypical stuff, but that’s not really what makes a Slytherin a Slytherin. Anyone can be ambitious. No, he’s a Slytherin because he unapologetically prioritizes himself and the people he cares about above all else. 

“Slytherin Primaries are fiercely loyal to the people they care for most. Slytherin is the place where “you’ll make your real friends”– they prioritize individual loyalties and find their moral core in protecting and caring for the people they are closest to. Slytherin’s reputation for ambition comes from the visibility of this promotion of the self and their important people– ambition is something you can find in all four Houses; Slytherin’s is just the one that looks most obviously selfish.”

However, Loki’s trauma has pushed him to something this system calls Petrifying.

“Whether through death, betrayal, abandonment (from either side), or through never having had any to begin with, the Petrified Slytherin has decided that having important people is too dangerous. Having those strong ties leaves you open to pain and weakness, and the pleasure of those connections aren’t worth the despair that comes from their seemingly inevitable loss. In this way, they close themselves off to meaningful connections out of what is ultimately fear (though from the inside, it’s far more likely to be experienced as a rational, sensible decision given the circumstances of the world), and gives them a stony exterior that seems impenetrable, resolute, and cold.” 

Loki wants love and acceptance so badly, but he is convinced that the kind of attachments and relationships that that comes from are far too dangerous and the risk isn’t worth the reward. He pushes people away, hides behind a mask of self-aggrandizement, and betrays others before they can betray him in an attempt to protect himself from potential pain.

In the series, however, we see him slowly unpetrify and move towards a more healthy style of attachment because of Mobius and Sylvie’s influence on him. Whereas his circle of priorities used to include only himself (and arguably Frigga and later, Thor, in the movie timeline), he proverbially “thaws” enough to let Mobius and Sylvie in, and tragically, because of that, the loss of them hurts him so deeply because by the end of season 1, they’re all he had.

His Slytherin Secondary, however, is obvious in his methodology. He’s the god of chaos. He loves improvisation, and plans only exist as long as another better idea doesn’t come along and usurp it. He’ll change and adapt (quite literally) to best fit the situation in front of him, and he takes joy in that. But beneath all the running and his many personas, he has his “neutral state” that he lets only a precious few see. Mobius gets to see it, and so does Sylvie, and as he progresses through the series, he starts to be more comfortable existing in that state where he’s no longer hiding behind everything he feels like the world expects him to be and he can just be himself. 

Mobius: Slytherin Primary (Hufflepuff Model)/Hufflepuff Secondary - sorting: Slytherin House

People like to put Mobius in Hufflepuff, but honestly? I don’t think that’s where he’d be most comfortable. Yes, he is kind and caring to basically everyone, and we see this over and over again in the series. The man radiates comfort. However, like it says in Inky and Kat’s description of the Slytherin Primary, 

“Wanting to help someone doesn’t mean you’re loyal to them. Wanting to help them at the expense of your comforts, your values, your commitments and sometimes even yourself–that does.”

Mobius is kind to a fault. But he is not kind at the expense of himself. Not to everyone at least. He is kind to the child in France, but he is not kind to the point of saving him from the resetting of the timeline, and he doesn’t feel guilty about that. He believes in a duty of care, but he does not believe he has any obligation to go beyond what he thinks that duty of care is. He unapologetically plays favorites, and this is mentioned on multiple occasions. Above all else, Mobius values loyalty as a virtue. Sure, he cares about the TVA and its accompanying morality, and he genuinely does believe it’s his duty to care about and be kind to others. He seems to vibe quite well with the Hufflepuff ideal of caring about people simply because they are people, but this is all secondary to his personal loyalties when push comes to shove. For Mobius,

“dropping that model in order to stand by someone you love, or in order to protect yourself, doesn’t feel like a failing. Sticking to that modelled morality at the expense of betraying or abandoning one of their own would make a Slytherin feel guilty and wrong. Being able to put the things and concepts you like aside for the sake of the people who need you feels more righteous than any moral posturing.”

It’s for this very reason that Mobius gets so angry and feels so betrayed when he thinks Loki has abandoned him for Sylvie, and when Ravonna lies to him and prunes him.

“Betraying your own is the worst kind of crime. Loyalty is precious and terrible; it makes you vulnerable. It’s given sparingly, deeply, and a Slytherin will stand by their loyalties through the same death and fire that a Gryffindor would brave for the sake of doing the right thing, or a Hufflepuff to help someone in need.”

Loki is Mobius’ own. Mobius prioritizes Loki over almost everything else, sticks his neck out for him over and over again, and is willing to sacrifice his own happiness for him. He’s even willing to abandon the whole of his former ideology and prior friendships for this relationship that has become closer to him than his own self, the highest tier of trust and loyalty a Slytherin can give.

“It’s an extreme Slytherin who would let the whole world burn for the sake of a friend, but every Slytherin Primary would be at the very least tempted.”

And Mobius very nearly does exactly that. Even says the words, “burn it to the ground” when Loki asks him what he’s going to do. And he doesn’t feel bad about it. Especially after realizing what the TVA has done to him and the people he cares about. He kicks the TVA out of his circle of care, and doesn’t look back. And he does it for Loki.

Mobius’ Secondary is where people get his Hufflepuff vibes from, I think. A Hufflepuff secondary is marked by “their consistency and the integrity of their method. They’re our hard workers. They build habits and systems for themselves and accomplish things by keeping at them. They have a steadiness that can make them the lynchpin (though not usually the leader) of a community.” And that is what Mobius is. It’s why he radiates that kindness and comfort. He quietly and carefully works at and invests in the relationships in his life to the point that people almost automatically trust him, and over time he has learned how to read people and figure out what makes them tick. 

He approaches new situations with a steady head and gentle hand that Loki is unused to, and it’s this approach that eases Loki into learning how to trust and rely on people. It’s an inherently Hufflepuff approach, and it’s the key to his success as an analyst for the TVA and an understanding friend for Lokis across the timelines.

Tl;dr - Application to an actual Hogwarts AU fic:

THEREFORE! There’s a compelling narrative to be had with a tiny, first-year Loki coming into Hogwarts. He comes from a pureblood family that’s very proud of their Gryffindor heritage (they don’t talk about Hela, and Loki and Thor don’t even know she exists until later in this story), and his brother had been sorted into Gryffindor a couple years prior, and Loki has heard very little other than contempt for Slytherin House and everyone in it. Loki doesn’t want to be sorted into Slytherin. He doesn’t want to deal with the disappointment and shame from his father and the sad eyes of his brother. But the sorting hat sorts him there almost immediately, and his heart sinks. He wanders over to the table miserably but determined. If he’s gonna be sorted into the “evil” house, might as well just run with it, right? Best not to get close to people though. It’s Slytherin. Who knows when someone will betray you.

Enter Mobius, the tiny muggleborn, bright eyed, bushy tailed, and having no clue about the prejudices between houses. The hat takes a hot minute sorting him, giving him the choice between Hufflepuff and Slytherin and telling him Hufflepuff would love a kindhearted and welcoming member like him. But Mobius has been eyeing the little black-haired kid who got sorted before him and is now sitting far apart from everyone, and he can’t help but feel like he needs to be this kid’s friend. And didn’t the hat just say Slytherin is where you’ll make your real friends? Friends are what Mobius cares about, so he’d like to go to Slytherin, thank you very much, so that’s where he goes, and he happily plunks himself down right next to Loki and sticks his hand out.

“I’m Mobius. What’s your name?”

 Loki looks at Mobius’ hand disdainfully and doesn’t shake it, but he does answer, “Loki.”

Mobius’ eyes go wide, and he smiles. “Loki? Like after the Norse god?”

Loki nods, eyeing Mobius suspiciously. People don’t often bat an eye at his name. Not in the wizarding world, anyway.

“Wow, that’s so cool! I loved reading about Norse mythology in school and Loki was always my favorite. Names have power, you know. If you’ve got the same name, then you must be just as awesome.”

Loki has no idea what to do with this kid, but he’s immediately aware of two things:

He’s absolutely sure that this Mobius kid is in the wrong house. No way a Slytherin can be this excited without a single hint of deception in his face.

He’s going to be eaten alive by the other students if Loki doesn’t protect him. What a pain.

Loki is completely wrong on both of these points.

[mysdrymmumbles]

Steadfast - October Writing Prompt

Thank you to @toastvogel for suggesting Chyrus. He is the best paragon <3 

..................

The Archon sits on no throne, but even without one, many kyrian often see her as a more distant figure. It is understandable. Even if she wasn’t a god, she is the leader of the realm. By her will is Bastion maintained, and by her hand are the ascended directed. There is more work that goes into doing even those two dealings than most will ever know, and she does so much more than that. It is a wonder she ever has time to address any of her subjects.

In that way, Chyrus can’t help but wonder—hope, really—whether she is at least somewhat protected from some of what is happening right now. She is not at the temples, watching their brethren fall before each other’s blades. She can feel the realm wither around her, in spite of her will, but she cannot see how that crushes the spirits of those relying on her unwavering resolve. She is spared their doubts.

Until those doubts become too powerful.

And then she is blindsided with the betrayal.

Because most anyone else could have seen something like this coming. Perhaps not on such a grand scale, but there were signs, clear as the skies over Bastion.

Chyrus frowns as the sound of a broken chime reaches his ears. With a quick inspection, he finds the culprit underfoot, half crushed under his large toes. Kneeling, he picks them up gingerly, the lute-like chimes tiny in his palm, and the ring they used to hang on broken.

It’s hard to imagine what could have damaged it so. Someone getting thrown into it and their weapon catching it just right? Or had one of their many attackers been so overcome with rage that the sound of the gentle instrument filled them with such animosity that they wanted to make sure they would never play again?

There has been so much heartache in Bastion throughout the eons.

Bastion’s pride is its noble cause, but perhaps it is because he does not cling to such emotion that Chyrus has always been able to see the melancholic undercurrent. The broken hearts sent back to Oribos to be judged anew because they could not relinquish the memories of their mortal lives has always been there. Friends and students alike have ‘fallen short’ over the years. He wonders where they’ve gone, sometimes—those he remembers.

And there are those who have done as was required of them, who sometimes quietly peruse their old memories, watching the foreign stories play out with a quiet resignation that their sacrifice was for the greater good. Still, sacrifices are nothing if they are not mourned from time to time.

As Chyrus peers around to see if there are any other pieces of the little chimes to be gathered—to be given to someone with smaller hands who needs so desperately something to focus on other than the present—the sound of large wings grow closer.

He catches the last bit of pipe beneath his foot as Thenios lands, unintentionally scattering the debris left in the forsworn’s latest attack with his great wings.

Chyrus offers him a word of greeting before picking up the chime. It wouldn’t do to forget it, and even though there was no proof of it, Chyrus has often felt like little objects could have a feel to them. They could know when they are broken and appreciate when they are repaired.

It’s a notion Visephone smiles to think of, and one that Xandria will mull over before irritably asking questions that have no answers. Simple things that cannot be done in front of their charges, but are held precious in those fleeting moments when the paragons are alone together.

This is not going to be such a moment, Chyrus can tell, if only by the thin line of Thenios’ lips.

That doesn’t stop Chyrus from giving him a simple smile himself. “What brings you all the way out here?”

Thenios stands tall and firm, armor shining in Bastion’s radiance.

That in itself makes Chyrus’ heart hurt. Thenios does not don his armor for any occasion.

Or he didn’t. Not before the forsworn, before Devos’ betrayal. Though he would never voice it, Chyrus often suspects that Devos fall from grace affected Thenios the most severely of them all, hitting him harder than even the Archon.

How often had the two visited each other’s temples in casual attire to sprawl out together and read. Thenios usually brought the scrolls and books, and Devos was always pleased to see whatever it was that he had for her. She’d once told him he could make even the driest, most technical of reports sound fascinating.

Chyrus can still remember finding them curled up together, feathers fluffed up as they read through something that wasn’t work related, and how Xandria had hounded them about how adorable they were for weeks after, insisting to Visephone that she had missed something absolutely precious.

When it was just them, of course. When they have those fleeting moments where they can simply be people instead of unyielding leaders.

Thenios hasn’t taken his armor off since Devos’ death.

The paragon motions for Chyrus to follow him, and they both take flight, soaring out into the fields where they will not be overheard.

Their feet have barely touched into the soft grasses when Thenios begins to speak, unable to contain himself any longer. His voice is a mix of its usual matter-of-fact tone used to inspire confidence among his aspirants and something else, something almost accusatory. “The Maw Walker has recovered some records for me. Salvaging what the forsworn are so hasty to destroy in their hunt for whatever they think matters more.”

“We are fortunate to have such help—”

“They brought me this.”

There is nothing particularly noteworthy about the record in Thenios’ palm, but Chyrus knows what it will be before it plays. Funny that he was just remembering this aspirant as he surveyed the damage to his temple. She had been close to ascension when she fell. She came to him, telling him that the path had taken everything from her, made her into someone she didn’t recognize.

She had been the latest in a long line of those who were not meant for the path after all.

Chyrus listens to his own disembodied voice recount the incident and remembers musing about whether there was another way for those within Bastion, a way that didn’t require a complete abandonment of the past.

The reasons for the path’s current route were valid, of course. No good came from ferrymen who judged the souls they collected.

It was a hard path, but it was one that had served them well for almost all of eternity. And if it weren’t for the lack of judgment in Oribos…

Chyrus makes no offer to take the record from Thenios, more than a little sure that if he did try, it would be denied him. Instead, he waits for Thenios to make whatever point he is there for. A chiding perhaps that such a thing was left where aspirants could find it?

“Did she ever talk to you?”

The question is a surprise, a reminder that Chyrus cannot predict everything his fellow paragon will think or do, and it hangs between them.

“No,” Chyrus finally replies. The word feels cruel somehow in its succinctness. “The first—and only—time I heard of Devos’ dissatisfaction with the path was when she told us of Uther’s injury.”

Thenios flinches at her name. No armor can protect him from his memories, and Chyrus has been worried about what will happen to him. Forgetting their fallen brethren will be nigh impossible. Their paths were far too entwined and to take her away would leave him with so much emptiness…

Chyrus has already lost so many, his heart breaks at the mere of thought of who else may fall, of who might be left a shell of their former selves because of hearbreak they can’t overcome.

“She told me.” Thenios voice cracks at the last word. He is quiet a moment before clearing his throat, his composure regained. “I told her to be careful the sort of thing she said.” His chin inclines, gaze skyward. “I did not think…I did not know that you had wondered about this very thing.”

“Haven’t we all?” Chyrus offers gently. None of them are above doubts, after all. He reaches out and lightly places a hand on Thenios’ arm, a connection his friend so clearly needs. The action startles Thenios out of his thoughts.

“If I’d listened…if I had let her talk…hadn’t let her feel so—” Thenios curls his fingers around the record, practically crushing it in his hand as he lowers it to his side, fist shaking. “How could she have… the Jailer.”

His voice cracks again, and this time he stops talking, a tremor in his jaw as he clenches it.

With a quick step, Chyrus reaches out and wraps Thenios in a hug, ignoring the way the bits of armor poke into his bare arms. There is hesitation, and then Thenios grips Chyrus back, clinging to him like a drowning man in a stormy sea.

There is not enough time. There may never be, but here, now, Chyrus is acutely aware of how damaged his friend is and how there are people who need both of them to be unbreakable pillars.

It is cruel that he can offer Thenios so little of his time. Chyrus makes himself a silent vow that he will be there for his friend, to properly mourn what they have lost when things are finally set right.

When Thenios pulls away, a shiver runs through his feathers and for a moment, Chyrus thinks he may take his helm off.

Instead, he takes Chyrus’ hand, surprised to find the tiny bits of broken chimes already there as he places the record among them. “I would hate the forsworn to get this and think you would be a good target to convert.”

Chyrus chooses not to point out that they have already tried. “Thank you, my friend.”

Thenios turns away and then pauses, looking back at him. “If you need someone to listen to your doubts…”

Chyrus wants to tell him that Devos’ fall is not his fault, but there is no way for words to reach, much less ease, the guilt there.  Instead, he gives Thenios a nod and a gentle smile. “Of course.”

Thenios attempts something like a goodbye, but when he can’t trust his voice to hold steady, he instead dismisses himself without ceremony. Chyrus does not insult him by watching his retreat, instead turning his attention back to his temple.

There is much to be done.

[anonymouslyangsty]

Idea: Escape Room AU. Making a loose interpretation of that one horror movie. Some of the Danganronpa characters are invited to play in an escape room, but find that if they don't solve the puzzles in time the consequences are deadly. Not only that, but each of the rooms are deliberately designed to invoke past traumas of each of the characters. My main motivation? High stress Ishimondo.

YES. 100% yes. You don't know how much I crave action/adventure Ishimondo. Yes domestic fluff is sweet, yes the death game can be intense. But there's something special about people having to actively fight for their lives together, and solving murders just doesn't hit the same.

So yeah I like the idea, it almost gives me YTTD vibes (for those who don't know, Your Turn To Die is like DR but you win puzzles or die. I love it)

(If you're interested, there's a fic that kinda fits this idea. It's Beyond Despair. It's basically "everyone who dies comes back and now they have to do puzzles to survive. I'll try not to take too much inspiration from it for this concept)

But yeah I love this idea. I think things like this do best with smaller groups, so here's an idea: Leon, Hiro, Chihiro, Mondo, and Taka go to an Escape Room over the summer for Mondo's birthday. Then surprise! It's all death trap filled.

Just trying to think of potential rooms on the spot...I warn you that I've only gone heavily into the backstories of Taka and Mondo when it comes to DR1, so I might be missing out on some good ideas.

Hiro has to make a bunch of predictions to stop the others from getting harmed, perhaps a form of Russian Roulette. If he predicts where the bullet is incorrectly, he ends up shooting someone. He's probably not aiming for anything vital just in case, but it would still suck.

Not sure how this relates to trauma. Maybe he messed up an important prediction, and that led to someone getting seriously hurt?

Chihiro's great issue is weakness, which he tries to overcome. So maybe his room is having to hack something with a timer, where failing to do so in time leads to everyone burning alive. It would test his mental fortitude.

Or we could go the physical strength path. Like a situation where the solution is in an area so small that only Chi can enter, but something inside has to be forcefully pulled open. So Chi has to find the strength to do it, either by outsmarting the trap, or pure strength.

Or maybe it's both? Chi has to show both mental and physical strength to pass the trial.

Mondo has his own issues with strength, not to mention his guilt for the whole Daiya thing. Maybe he gets put into a situation where he alone can solve the puzzle, but cannot act. Instead, he has to tell the others what to do.

Think something like the game Keep Talking and Nobody Explodes. The basic premise of that game is: there are two players, one with a manual, and another with a bomb. The player with the manual has to instruct the other player on how to defuse the bomb. The player with the bomb cannot see the manual.

And that would be pretty stressful for Mondo. He isn't confident in his intelligence, so having to solve the puzzle alone would already be a problem. Plus there's the fear that he'll fail his friends, that he'll mess up and get them all killed.

For Leon...I'll admit that I don't have a solid idea for him. He wants to leave baseball and become a musician, right? So I'm not really sure how to infuse that desire into his room.

Plus I don't want to make his room just "hit this target to escape" because he can probably do that really easily...But it still needs to be involved with his talent in some way.

Here's an idea. It's not ideal because I'm not sure how well it fits into his character, but at least it includes his talent in a way that won't be horribly easy for him.

The group has to play a game of baseball, Leon vs everyone else (sure the teams are uneven, but Leon's the best baseball player around, so it's fair).

The game has to end with 12 home runs (why 12? there's a dumb reason.). For each point the enemy team gets, the other team is punished somehow. Each punishment is worse than the last.

Leon is a way better player than all of them combined, so it's not about him winning. It's about him deciding who gets hurt. Does he save himself, or save the others? It's a game of selfishness vs selflessness. Not to mention a delicate balance of ensuring nobody's too hurt to keep going.

As for the punishments, we could add another layer of selfish vs selfless actions. Maybe the losing team has to decide among themselves who takes the punishment, or they can all agree to take a slightly less harmful version of it.

And Taka. I'm...not sure? His character is all about morality, but Leon's trial kind of has that covered. There's also his role as a leader, but Mondo's trial covers that. Whatever the case, I'm just going to throw out ideas.

First thought is to focus on Taka's passion and strong work ethic. Think of it as kinda the opposite of Mondo's proposed trial. Taka's placed on some kind of pedestal that leaves him about 8 inches from the ceiling. On top of the ceiling is some kind of button, just far enough away that he has to reach to touch it.

While he's up there, everyone has...some kind of puzzle to solve. I don't know what honestly, probably some moral dilemma or something to keep on theme.

Now here's the point of this trial. Around the beginning of the room, Taka's shot with like half a dose of sedative. Not enough to knock him out, but enough to make the process of reaching up to hold a button pretty hard. Whenever he isn't pressing the button, water starts filling the room. If he passes out, they all drown.

This trial places him in a position of power, as everyone is relying on him to stay strong despite the struggle he's facing. And it's the opposite of Mondo's trial because he has no agency. He can't really help solve the puzzle, all he can do is keep that button held. But it's also similar to Mondo's trial because, if he falters, everyone dies.

The downside to this option is that it has nothing to do with morality. Mondo could just as easily have this trial, since it's more about hard work and strength.

Another option is something that focuses far more on morality. I'm not sure of the details, but perhaps it's a situation where he has to decide who of his friends to hurt to help everyone escape. And he wants to find a solution that leaves everyone unharmed, but that very well might not be possible.

Or maybe something like the prisoner's dilemma? (In very basic terms, you have prisoners A and B. If A and B trust each other, they both escape. If one betrays the other, the one who betrayed escapes with some extra benefit. If both betray, both get nothing.)

In this hypothetical situation, perhaps this is the last trial, just long enough for little resentments within the group to build. For the stress of the situation to make friendship become overshadowed by self preservation. Can they really trust one another to do the right thing, or will they get betrayed?

This is more morality related, but it's also not specific to Taka. Taka doesn't play a lead role, they all do, since they all have to face the dilemma.

Final idea, and admittedly the least formed one. They’re in...some kind of puzzle, with a timer of course because we need the pressure to be one. In the room with them is someone none of them know, bound and gagged.

They can spend time trying to solve the puzzle the hard way, or they can do it the easy way. But the easy way means killing the captive (Maybe they have a key in their stomach or something). And you want to do the right thing, but there's a timer and the moral option takes so much longer.

Taka continues his role as moral compass for this trial. He has to be the one to declare if they go the easy option. If he choose it, he personality has to get the key. There's a knife provided for the task

It could feed on Taka's fears of corruption and morality. Is it better to sacrifice one to save the group? Is he being selfish for trying to save a stranger rather than his friends? Taka has a very black and white view on morality, and this trial would force him to shatter that.

It could also lead into a fear that he'll become just as corrupt as Toranosuke. After all, if he can't solve this trial without any deaths, how can he be a good man?

Honestly? While I called this one the least formed, I think I like it the most. It's a real moral dilemma.

[professorrw]

All I Want, Remus Lupin Fanfiction

Chapter Eighteen

Warnings: fluff, eventual smut, death, violence, swearing, age gap, slight angst, major spoilers for Deathly Hallows, fighting

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed this! If you did, like, comment, and reblog! If you would like to be added to my taglist (permanent or for this series) tell me and I’ll put you on there!

You helped Remus hobble through the crowd to stand by Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. Harry was being held by Hagrid, who was sobbing. Voldemort was standing in front of Hagrid with Nagini draped over his shoulders.

The four of you yelled out to Harry. He didn't respond or move. Following your yells were others, shouting Harry's name and saying things about Voldemort and his followers.

"SILENCE!" Voldemort yelled. He shot out a spell and everyone around you seemed to fall silent. "It's over! Set him down at my feet Hagrid, where he belongs." He had a venomous smile that stretched across his pale face. Hagrid walked over and laid Harry down onto the grass gently.

Ron was stirring next to you, fist clenched and eyebrows furrowed.

"You see?" Voldemort said, walking back and forth next to Harry. "Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now? He was never anything more than a boy who relied on others to make sacrifices for him!"

"He beat you!" Ron yelled from beside you. That seemed to break the charm and everyone, including you, began to yell as well. Voldemort seemed pleased with all the cries and shouts. But of course, he wanted to talk again so he sent out a more powerful spell, immediately ceasing all voices.

"He was killed while sneaking off the castle grounds. While trying to save himself."

Everyone knew Voldemort was lying. Harry would never do such a thing. If anything, Harry was probably trying to sacrifice himself.

Neville was a short distance away from you and he was struggling. It looked like he was trying to break out of the spell. It worked, he ran at Voldemort but he wasn't quick enough. Voldemort disarmed Neville and he hit the ground with the sheer force of the spell.

"Who is this? Who has volunteered to show everyone what happens when you continue to resist my power?" Voldemort asked with a sly smile.

Bellatrix laughed from his side. "Neville Longbottom, Lord! He was the son of the Aurors. He's been causing trouble at school."

"Oh, yes. I remember you." Voldemort strolled over to stand above Neville's body. Neville was getting back to his feet slowly, obviously out of breath. "Aren't you a pureblood, boy?"

"So what if I am?" Neville spat back.

"You have spirit and bravery. You come from noble blood. You will make a fine Death Eater. We need people like you."

"I'll join you when hell freezes over! Dumbledore's Army!" Neville shouted.

The crowd erupted in shouts and cries of "Dumbledore's Army!" Voldemort's spell was once again broken.

Remus seemed to be gaining his own footing, no longer leaning on you as heavily. "Are you alright?" you whispered. He nodded and fixed his gaze on Voldemort. Voldemort had continued speaking but you were talking to Remus. When you looked back towards Neville, Voldemort stood above him with the Sorting Hat in his hands.

"There will no longer be Sorting at Hogwarts. You will be united under one House. The House of my ancestor, Salazar Slytherin." Voldemort pointed his wand at Neville and forced the hat onto his head. The Death Eaters had their wands positioned and ready to strike at anyone in the crowd.

Voldemort flicked his wand and the Sorting Hat was set afire on Neville's head.

"Neville!" you and Hermione shouted. You and many others seemed to surge forward at the same time, seeing Neville unable to move and on fire. A giant had come around the side of the building yelling, "HAGGER!" He must not have been one of Voldemort's, for a whole group of much larger giants charged him. Arrows began to fall upon Voldemort's side as Centaurs began to run from the trees.

Everyone on Hogwarts' side was running forward. Your attention was drawn to the spot Harry once was. He was gone. Neville had also broken out of his curse and reached into the Sorting Hat, pulling from it the Gryffindor sword. Neville swept the sword through the air and it sliced through Nagini.

Hagrid began to yell Harry's name and chaos ensued. Everyone was being pushed into the castle by the group. Death Eaters and defenders of Hogwarts shot spells at one another. Bodies dropped onto the ground as the mass of people moved.

You and Remus were in the middle of the mass and a moment after you entered the hall the house-elves ran in carrying knives and screaming. You were pushed into the Great Hall near Ginny, Hermione, and Luna. You all caught sight of Bellatrix and began to shoot spells at her. She was extremely quick, avoiding and blocking spells with ease.

The four of you shot stunning spells, disarming spells, and even Avada Kedavra at her but none fazed her. You lost sight of Remus and he had separated from you. Jets of light continued to pass between you, Luna, Ginny, Hermione, and Bellatrix. She sent out curse after curse, nearly hitting you multiple times.

Mrs. Weasley ran in from behind Bellatrix screaming, "NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!"

Bellatrix cackled as Mrs. Weasley pushed the four of you out of the way. You had never seen her so determined. It was absolutely terrifying to see the two duel, both trying to kill the other.

Bodies littered the ground. You had backed onto the wall next to Hermione, watching the fight between Molly and Bellatrix. Remus stumbled over to you, panting, but not appearing injured. You both cast a Shield over as many students as you could, wanting to protect them.

After doing as much as you could, you turned back to the two duels going on.

"What will happen to your children when I've killed you?" Bellatrix taunted. She was sneering while sending out curses and avoiding Mrs. Weasley's spells. "When Mummy's gone the same way as Freddie?"

You knew that did it for Molly. That had poked the fire even more. She screamed back, "You-will-never-touch-our-children-again!"

Bellatrix laughed maniacally. She lost focus for one second and Mrs. Weasley used that second to send the killing curse at her. She was hit right over the heart. Her smile faltered and she collapsed to the ground. You let out a shaky breath as Voldemort shrieked.

In a sudden movement, his three challengers were sent flying. He pointed his wand at Molly but not before someone shouted "Protego!"

You looked around for the source of the yell and so did everyone else. A few yards away was Harry. Harry was alive. You gasped, shocked and shaken.

Harry and Voldemort circled each other. "I don't want anyone to try to help. It has to be me. It's got to be like this," Harry spoke and everyone heard him.

"Potter doesn't mean that. He doesn't do that. Who will you use now Potter?" Voldemort hissed.

"Nobody." You don't have Horcruxes left. It's just you and me. Only one of us can survive. One of us will walk out of this."

"Horcruxes?" Remus breathed. Something seemed to click within Remus as he nodded to himself.

"One of us? And you think it will be you? You survived by accident and because of Dumbledore."

"It was an accident when my mother died to save me then? Accident when I fought you in the graveyard? Accident that I didn't defend myself tonight and still survived? I'm still fighting," Harry stated.

"YES! ACCIDENTS!" Voldemort screamed. Nobody moved. Everyone stayed against the wall and watched the scene happening in the middle of the Great Hall. "Nothing but accident and chance that you were able to weasel away and hide behind others that were much greater than you."

"You won't be killing anyone else. You won't be able to kill any of them ever again. Don't you understand? I was ready to die to stop you from hurting these people-"

"But you didn't!"

"-I meant to and I did precisely that. I did as my mother did. They're all protected from you. Did you notice none of your spells are binding? You can't touch them. You don't learn from your mistakes, Riddle."

Harry taunted Voldemort, saying he knew things that Voldemort did not. He told Voldemort about things you didn't know of. That Dumbledore had planned for Snape to kill him months ago. That Snape loved Harry's mother and had been on Dumbledore's side all along. That shocked you. Dumbledore always insisted that Snape was on his side but you didn't believe it and neither did Harry. If Snape loved Harry's mom and Voldemort killed her then of course he would turn.

Voldemort didn't seem convinced. "Dumbledore tried to keep the Elder Wand from me! He intended for Snape to be the true master of the wand! But I reached the wand before you! I killed Severus Snape three hours ago and now the Elder Wand is mine! Dumbledore's plan went wrong, Potter!"

"Yeah it did. You're right. But before you try to kill me, think about what you've done. Try to have some remorse, Riddle."

"What is this?" Voldemort seemed taken aback by that. It had set him off and shocked him.

"It's one last chance. It's all you've got left. I've seen what you'll be otherwise. Be a man. And try... try for some remorse."

Harry continued to explain to Voldemort. He told Voldemort that the wand wasn't his. It wasn't Snape's either. It belonged to Draco Malfoy. But that wasn't all. Harry had overpowered and taken Draco's wand while all of you were at Malfoy Manor. That meant that Harry was the master of the Elder Wand. All these new revelations shocked everyone in the room. So much information had been found in the past few months and it had all come down to this. Harry and Dumbledore had outsmarted Voldemort.

It had been hours since you arrived at Hogsmeade and the sun was coming up. Red-orange light poured into the room.

There were two yells, one saying "Avada Kedavra!"

The other shouting "Expelliarmus!"

There was a bang where the two spells collided and the Elder Wand flew from Voldemort's hand. Harry caught the wand. At the same time, Voldemort fell to the ground.

Taglist: @bellamy1998 @sxsalvatore @ottjord @lina1945

[fanmoose12]

Jean wiped the tears from his face, thinking if he had made the right choice after all. Remembering Magath’s arrogant and condescending expression or Reiner’s apologetic one, he wasn’t so sure anymore.

What was wrong with him, if he decided to risk his life to save the assholes like them? Why should he help those people, who hated and despised him, who called him a monster just because of his blood?

Maybe, Floch was right, Jean though bitterly. Maybe, he should have joined him and let all those people die. Then he would be safe, he would be free and… he would be guilty for the deaths of millions of innocents that had cost him his happiness.

“Goddamn it,” Jean whispered. “Goddamn it, Marco, sometimes I hate you,” a small grin appeared at his lips and a few tears escaped his eyes, as an image of his friend, smiling at him, came to Jean’s mind. “If it weren’t for you and your stupid words… I would have been the same old Jean… the same jerk, who didn’t care for anyone, but himself. But look at me now,” he chuckled, that sound mixing with his quiet sobs. “I’m going to fight another war, fight for the people I don’t even know. All of it is your fault,” despite the accusation, his voice was soft. “Oh, I miss you so much, Marco. Sometimes I think it would have been better, if you survived and I died in your place. You would have known what to do. You would have made the right choice, I’m sure.”

Jean took a shuddering breath, raising his head to look at the night sky. “Do you think I’m a good person, Marco?” he asked, his voice too loud in the quiet forest. “Do you think I can be called that, if I have doubts? If I still want to run and hide?”

Jean covered his eyes with his hand, taking another deep breath. All this pondering was pointless. He made his choice already. People were depending on him now. His friends were depending on him, Hange-san was depending on him. Even those fucking Marleyans were probably depending on his help as well. It was too late for doubts now.

Jean wiped his face with a sleeve, hoping that all sights of tears were gone. He would rather die than let anyone see him like that. Using tree as his support, he shakily got to his feet and dusted his coat. Then he started to walk back to their camp.

He hoped that everyone else was asleep. Someone asking why his eyes were so red was the last thing he needed right now.

But of course, because apparently the universe fucking hated him, as Jean neared the camp, he saw that someone was still sitting by the fire.

When she heard the quiet sound of leaves rustling under his feet, Hange turned to face him.

“Took you long enough,” she commented with a lopsided smile. “I was honestly starting to get worried.”

“What,” Jean took a sit next to his Commander. “Thought I was going to ditch you and join Yeagerists?”

“No,” Hange shook her head. “I never doubted you. But forests are quite dangerous at night.”

“After fighting with Titans, I don’t think it would be that hard to defeat a bear.”

Hange softly giggled. “Yeah, maybe, you’re right. By the way, I saved some stew for you,” she passed Jean a plate with a spoon. “Emotional breakdowns can be quite tiring.”

Accepting the stew, Jean smirked as he looked at Commander Hange. “Speaking from personal experience?”

She replied him with a smirk of her own. “That’s classified information. Commander’s secrets and all that.”

Jean gave a short laugh and then looked down to his plate, busying himself with eating the stew. As he ate, out of the corner of his eyes, Jean kept looking at Hange. She was absentmindedly stirring the ambers in the fire. There was a faraway look in her eyes, and she appeared to be deep in thought. Jean glanced slightly to his right and saw Captain Levi, resting beside her. From time to time, Hange also threw Captain a quick look, as though making sure that he was still here.

Jean suddenly felt sorry for his Commander. At least, he still had his friends and his mother, but Captain Levi was the only person Hange-san cared about. She had lost everyone else.

“Hange-san,” Jean lightly bumped against her shoulder, attracting her attention. “Have you ever…” he trailed off, feeling that his question was too personal and intrusive.

“Yeah?” she prompted, looking at him with a gentle look in her eye. “Have I ever what?”

Well, Jean started it, he may as well finish his question. “Have you ever wanted to escape? T-to leave all of this shit behind and just run away?”

Hange let out a short laugh, however that sound was devoid of any mirth. “I’ve been fighting this war for much longer than you, Jean,” she looked away from him, her eyes darting to Captain Levi’s still body. “I’ve suffered many losses and endured a lot of pain. I… of course, I’ve thought of leaving. More times than I can count. When Levi got injured, when I saw him, lying there in a pool of his own blood, the wreckage of that damned explosion surrounding him…” Hange’s voice shook slightly, but she continued, turning her gaze back to Jean and staring right at him. Making him see all of her pain. “That’s all I could think of. I wanted to run, I wanted to find a place to keep us, to keep him safe, and never leave it. But I couldn’t,” her lips curved into a sad smile. “I knew I had responsibility, one I couldn’t escape from. There are people, who still rely on me,” she paused, shaking her head. “For some idiotic reason you and your friends still believe in me. And… they… all of the friends that I’ve lost, all of the comrades, who sacrificed their lives for us to keep fighting, I can’t betray their trust. I can’t let their sacrifices be in vain.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Hange fixed the glasses on her face, putting on a cheerful, but obviously fake smile. “I’ve dumped all this onto you. It’s probably not something you’ve wanted to hear. Before an important battle, one that probably will decide the fate of our world, I don’t think you want to hear that your Commander was this close to giving up.”

“No,” Jean shook his head. “You’re wrong. I did need to hear it. I was thinking of the same thing. Right before you came to visit Mikasa and me, I was having the same doubts. I thought it would be better to accept Floch’s plan, to let Eren do his thing and… and continue living my life, safe and happy. But then… I remembered Sasha’s smile and Marco’s kind eyes…”

“Marco?” Hange interrupted, cocking her head to the side with a curious look in my face.

“Oh, of course, you didn’t get to know him,” Jean looked away from her, feeling his eyes fill with tears once more. “He was with us in 104th, but… he died in Trost.”

“I’m so sorry,” Hange lowered her head. “That’s the boy you’ve mentioned before, right? When you punched Reiner?”

“Yeah,” Jean nodded, looking at his bruised knuckles.

“That was a good punch.”

“Should have hit him harder,” Jean protested. “That Titan freak will regenerate anyway.”

“Mm, I was kind of envious of you,” Hange commented, a mischievous grin appearing on her lips. “You can’t imagine how much I wanted to punch Magath’s stupid face.”

Jean couldn’t help it – he burst out laughing. “Then why didn’t you?”

“Ah,” Hange sighed. “I’m afraid that’s one of the many cons to being a Commander. Now I can’t go around screaming at people or threatening them with violence.”

“Mm, I remember, you were quite wild back in your days.”

“That I w— Wait!” Hange glared at Jean. “Back in my days!? Am I that old?”

“Of course, not,” Jean put on his best suave smile. “I’ll be honest, Commander, if I was a bit older, I’d have the biggest of crushes on you. Although, I don’t think it would have been reciprocated – I am not Ackerman, after all.”

“And neither am I,” Hange replied, her eyes darting to Mikasa, who was sleeping not that far from them.

Jean’s cheeks flamed up, but he decided not to hide his embarrassment. “Am I that obvious?”

“Not really,” Hange shrugged. “But I am quite observant. Couldn’t become a Commander if I weren’t. And don’t worry,” she hugged Jean by the shoulder, her other hand coming to ruffle his hair. “You are still young. You still have time to win her over.”

Jean chuckled, a warm feeling spreading through him. “Thank you for that talk. I really needed it. And… maybe, I won’t get another chance, so I wanted to say something to you. I know you don’t believe it, but you are a great Commander. You’re doing everything you can, and, even though, we’re in the deepest shit we’ve ever been, I’m not afraid, because I know you’ll be the one to lead us. I… really respect you and I’m honored to serve under your command.”

“Jean…” Hange swiftly pressed him to her chest, squeezing him tightly in her embrace. “Thank you,” she said with feeling. “It means a lot.”

Jean wanted to wave her off, to tell her that it’s nothing but the truth, but he was interrupted, when they heard a quiet grunting behind.

“I’m sorry,” Hange shot him an apologetic look. “It seems like my patient needs me. You should go and rest, by the way. Who knows when we’ll get the chance to do it next time.”

“Yeah, alright. Good night, Hange-san.”

She nodded and giving him one last smile, she turned to Captain Levi.

Jean searched for the spare sleeping bag, and when he found it, he lay down, closing his eyes. However, it didn’t seem like sleep was going to come easily to him. So he opened his eyes again, and watched Commander Hange and Captain Levi.

“Are you feeling any better?” Hange asked, starting to slowly and carefully unwrap Levi’s bandages.

“Not really,” he grumbled in reply. “How were negotiations? Had any success?”

“Not really,”Hange hummed. “But they’ve agreed to help and that’s all we really need from them. I wasn’t planning on becoming friends anyway. Now, come on,” she gently lifted Levi up, until he was half-sitting. “Let’s get you something to eat.”

As Jean continued to watch Hange and Levi out of the corner of his eyes, an image suddenly appeared in his mind.

He saw a small, but cozy cottage somewhere deep in the forest. Captain Levi is sitting on a porch, rocking in a chair with a cup of steaming tea in his hands. There is a small, but happy smile on his lips, as his eyes are focused on Hange-san, who was playing with two puppies or, maybe, she was chasing a couple of black-haired kids with big brown eyes? After finishing his tea, Captain Levi slowly gets to his feet and puts the cup down. He makes his way towards Hange-san, kissing her on the lips and taking her by the hand. He joins in on her fun, that same smile never leaving his lips and Hange-san’s laughter ringing through the woods.

And maybe— maybe, Jean will get to visit them. Maybe, if he’s extremely, extremely lucky, he won’t come all by himself. Maybe, a certain Ackerman will visit their superiors with him. And maybe, if Jean will become the luckiest man in this world, Mikasa will be holding a beautiful dark-haired girl by the hand, while Jean will be carrying a small boy in his arms.

Suddenly, and quite unfortunately, Jean’s fantasies were disturbed. A quite chuckle brought Jean back to Earth. As he turned around, meaning to send that person a mean glare, his eyes widened. Behind him was Mikasa. There was a soft, small smile on her lips as she watched Commander Hange and Captain Levi. As she saw that Jean was looking at her, her smile became bigger and her cheeks reddened ever so slightly.

Jean felt his own lips curving into a smile, as he gazed at Mikasa’s face.

He felt hope blossom inside his chest as his remembered Hange-san’s words. They were young. And even if their world had come to shit, maybe, they still had future.

And maybe, if he’s extremely lucky, Jean won’t be spending his future alone.

[miekasa]

do share your thoughts on the SnK final chapter and ending if you read it! <3

OKAY!! Here are just some of my thoughts, none of which are uniform lmaooo and are subject to change if I think about it long enough <22 lots of stuff I haven’t completely figured out or reconciled with yet, but here we go 

Eren’s death

I wanted him to die, and one way or another, he was destined to die; so this is kind of the ending I asked for. 

I wanted him to die for a few reasons, most of which revolve around my desire for him to finally rest and not have to shoulder all the burdens that have been put on him for any longer. So, his death definitely did that for me, and I wouldn’t change it. 

BUT it was heartbreaking to see that, for once, he genuinely did not want to die, and wanted to have time to spend with Mikasa after everything. Eren has asked to die multiple times in the past, and his death was inevitable at some point in time; so to see that in his final moments, he finally said/realized he didn’t want to go made it so bittersweet. 

The thing I’m happiest about the most is that he achieved his original goal: to kill all the titans. As a titan himself, he was always a part of that plan, so, again I’m okay with his death. But it’s a twisted, beautiful sort of tragedy that in wanting to kill himself to achieve his dream, he found a sense of personhood that made him think life was worth living [even if his goal wasn’t achieved]. 

Another important reason I believed he needed to/should have died is because I didn’t want him to have to suffer at the hands of any other government or empire again. Even if none of the shit with Marley or the other nations happened, and he found away to “free” everyone without murder, the government of Paradis wouldn’t have trusted him. They never really did. 

Eren has been locked up and/or under constant supervision since he was 15. And when he wasn’t, it’s because he was kidnapped and somebody else was preying on his death. Even when he desperately pleaded to help and showed that he wanted to use his titan to help, he was treated like a criminal, and less than human.

You can’t... you can’t treat a kid like that and expect him to turn out normal 😭😭 or to not want to go to extremes, or to become a pacifist, or to spinelessly hand over his own life and ambitions. (Honestly... think he should have started with murking a few people in Wall Sina, but whatever 🙄)

This is all to say, that if he continued to live, free of the 13 year curse, he wouldn’t have been free in any nation. He probably would have been executed, or at the very least, locked up until he died. So, I’m happy that he was able to die at his own hand (and Mikasa’s, too). 

Eren’s character

I obviously still love his character, and I don’t think his actions in the final season ruined him for way. There’s a lot to come to terms with, but I like that about him. I’ll work through all the details one day, and I’m okay with that. In fact, I don’t think Eren even ever got the chance to figure himself out independent of his titan.

His secret keeping was questionable, but not out of character. He’s always ruminated until he figures something out, or gets stuck and needs help—he’s always had the whole thing about doing everything on his own. 

Until that one conversation with him, Mikasa, and Armin after the fight with Jean in s3. I’d always read that as him beginning to understand that he didn’t have to everything on his own, and that he was going to be relying on his friends from thereon out. But, sometimes, I feel like that realization got erased...? I don’t know, maybe the more I think about it, the more it’ll make sense, but that’s one part I’m still working through. 

The only other thing I didn’t understand is how he got so smart LMAOOO. His plan and actions required quite a bit of thought, foresight, and sacrifice that he’s never really shown before; at least not to this degree. Like I said though, if you factor in how his was treated, and how his life always had an expiration date, it begins to make sense why he was so quick and insistent to act, so it’s not completely out of left field for me—and I could even make the argument that he wasn’t really that smart and was just as impulsive (ish) and hot-headed as he’s always been; but like I said, I’m still figuring it out. Not sure what it was that awakened his braincells but I’ll get there LMAOOO

Eren + Mikasa

Fuck y’all I like Eremika goodnight. I can’t help it, I’m a simple bitch: I see childhood friends to lovers, and I fold. You should too smh.

I... don’t think the little cottagecore timeline from 138 was out of character for either of them. I see the arguments that it was, and that’s cool, but I see it as something very real and plausible. 

Eren showed that he did all of this to ensure that even if he couldn’t bring peace to the whole world, at the very least, he could do his best to make sure his friends live long, happy lives. An alternate way for that would have been to give Mikasa the opportunity to spend his remaining years with him. 

Eren has always done his best Mikasa and Armin, even if his methods seemed harsh or apathetic. The way I see it, running away with Mikasa in his final year is not only becoming and telling of the kind of friend/person his is, but it would have been his way to atone for being an idiot and not acting upon his feelings [in a more traditional sense] earlier.

He knew either way it was too late, but he also knew that he owed her—and himself—even a piece of peace before it all ended, whichever way it was going to end. And I think that’s a part of Eren’s character that’s often overlooked. 

Mikasa’s ending

I think that Eren ultimately killed himself, but it’s undeniable that Mikasa helped, and I’m glad she did. If Eren was going to die by anybody’s hands, I wanted it to be Mikasa’s or Levi’s. 

I think Levi would have been symbolic, given his speech in the courtroom in s1, about how killing Eren is the best he could do, and that there was no in-between. But I’m happy with Mikasa doing it too, because, in a way, I think she ended up being able to do the one thing Levi didn’t have the physical strength left to do. I also like it as far as Mikasa’s relationship with Levi goes; she kind of becomes him in this complicated way, and it shows how far they’ve come in terms of trust. They’re a pretty good team. 

I don’t see why anyone would give her shit for sitting at Eren’s gravestone. It had been only three years since he died, and regardless of the amount of time that had passed, if it was the anniversary of his death, that’s a perfectly normal thing to do...? So many people hate her for being in love Eren and I don’t get it. She’s just mourning, and she’s well within her rights to do so. 

Actually, I think that Mikasa being shown to have loved and mourned for Eren so outwardly were the most profound displays of bravery in this whole series. 

It takes so much courage to love, especially in her world, but Mikasa has never shied away from it. I would even go so far as to argue that she is the character with the strongest sense of self and self-worth. I don’t think people realize how much it takes to know anything about yourself that assuredly—so many characters are left with unanswered questions about their world, themselves, and their place in it—but Mikasa has always known that she loves Eren. 

That’s an insanely hard thing to know and to do. And she wasn’t blind about it either, nor did she believe her love was unconditional (and if she gets shit for having hope for Eren, then so should Armin, but we know why he doesn’t get the same heat for it). She heard out the concerns of her friends, she let go of the scarf, and she killed him in the end. 

I would have liked to see her talk to Kiyoomi again, and perhaps see her being associated with that nation/country/whatever it was. But she’s still thee baddest bitch and the best girl. 

Levi

WE IN THIS BITCH!! WE ABSOLUTELY IN THIS BITCH!! 

ROUND OF APPLAUSE LADIES AND GAYS AND THEYS FOR THE MAN, THE MYTH, THE LEGEND HIMSELF!! 

If he died, I would have rioted. On god. 

This is the EXACT ending I wanted for him. I’m so happy that he gets time to rest knowing that none of his decision were in vain; and that he shouldn’t regret anything he did.

l know the wheelchair was literal in the sense that he was injured, but I also think it’s metaphorical in that he no longer has to standing on his own two feet, and carry everyone on his back. For once, for fucking once, he can literally sit back and read a fucking book in peace. 

Also Gabi and Falco taking care of him is so fucking cute, I loved that so, so, so much. 

Others

I don’t think Hange needed to die, goodbye. I get why they did, and I’m glad they went out in a way they wanted do, but that doesn’t mean I’m happy about it BYE. 

Pieck is far too sexy for her titan to have been that ghastly. Porco, too. Speaking of Porcupine, I fucking love him. I didn’t think I would like him this much, but I do, and now I miss him. 

When did Connie get so s*xy

I stand by the belief that this wouldn’t have happened with Erwin around—and for the worse. Yes, I think Hange waited longer than they should have to act; but I understand they were overwhelmed, and had a lot of responsibility, and regret, clouding over them. 

That being said, I think Erwin would have been 10x worse LMFAO with all his secret keeping and mystery. With all the shit going on, all the information being revealed to Paradis, and with Eren’s own secret keeping, I don’t think Erwin’s character and way of planning would have been conducive the new environment. RIP tho Erwin, you a legend for the shit you did, big ups on that my guy. 

I... guys, I like Reiner. Like, a lot. What goes on. 

I still hate H*storia and I think she caused a lot of problems that could have been resolved relatively quickly if she left 😐😐  yeah, yeah, girl power or whatever, but I don’t like it. I don’t like her. Bye. 

I have more thoughts on Marley and the other nations, but that’s a whole separate rant that I will spare you from for now 

[9pandas]

I recently ran into a post on here where there was some disagreement about the importance of blood sacrifice in the christian religion. As a studious and dedicated former christian it was very disturbing to me to see that there were people out there who did not seem to understand some of the core tenets of their own christian religion. It is incredibly important that people understand the full beliefs of any religion that they are a part of so they can make educated decisions about how to handle their personal spiritual journey.

Therefore I have written a long (8 page???) essay on basic white evangelical christianity and its relationship with blood sacrifices. 

I will explain in full under the cut if anyones interested as this is incredibly long.

Christianity’s central core tenant is undeniably our complete reliance on blood sacrifice for salvation.

I will be speaking about the beliefs of your generic american evangelical church as I don’t know much about other sects of christianities beliefs. And will be referred to these beliefs are christian beliefs because I'm lazy and don't wanna type that much.

I will be relying on memories from my twenty sum years in multiple churches as well as the numerous bible studies I was in; including but not limited to several by Beth Moore and Kay Arthur including her Covenant and Jeremiah studies. 

I will be using the New American Standard Bible (NSAB)for all bible passages unless indicated otherwise.

This will include some beliefs that are really fucking anti-Semitic. These are the beliefs of the groups discussed and not my own.

I do not believe any of the things I will be discussing. I did for many years, but I have learned, grown, and changed and no longer do.

We’ll start with the covenants and original sin and then a small communion rant..

We’re gonna go through the bible in the order of the books in the NASB and the whole fucking blood sacrifice thing is wrapped up in the idea of these covenants (fancy christian word for promise or deal that's super old timey/biblical or a serious religious commitment like a marriage covenant or your relationship with god) god made with different people and groups of people. I’ll only be going through the big covenants and as some of them don’t really apply, I’ll just give a quick summary of those ones.

One of the crucial things you'll have to understand is the concept of original sin also known as sin nature.

Pretty much christians believe that when Adam and Eve fucked up in Genesis 3 by eating the fruit that all their descendants (all the people) got “infected” with sin. Like everyone has badness inside of them (Sin Nature = the ability to fuck up sometimes) and that god cannot be around that infection, that badness because he is the opposite of that badness and they cannot coexist because he gets like a migraine or rage episode or something IDK, so he had to do all this stuff so some of us wouldn’t be separated from him forever (sent to hell). 

Side note: most christians believe you won’t get automatically sent to hell due to having a sin nature. They believe that your brain must be developed enough to “understand” right from wrong and must have the ability to sin or misbehave on purpose to be sent to hell for your sins. There is no biblical passage I can cite for this its just what many chrisitans have decided to be canon. Some christians believe you gain responsibility for your actions around age 3, some around age 13, and some believe it just depends on your personal brain development and that there is no real way for us to tell.

Anyway what god did to “save” us from hell as a punishment for being people who can sin (fuck up sometimes) is all about the blood and the covenants:

NOAHIC (Genesis 9:8-17)

The first, like, BIG covenant is called the Noahic Covenant where god promises not to kill everyone again with a flood. It's not really important to my point but here ya go. 

This covenant involves the deaths of pretty much everyone in a rage killing by god because he thought they were wicked (Genesis 6:5-7).

ABRAHAMIC (Genesis 12,15)

The next important one is the Abrahamic Covenant. In Genesis 12:1-9 god just like tells Abraham to leave his life and wander off with his wife and that god will make a great nation from him and make his name famous in a good way and punish everyone who's a dick to abraham. And then after he leaves and gets to a good area god tells Abraham that god’s gonna give him this particular land.

And then like some stuff happens and later in Genesis 15 things get really weird and taken probably wildly out of context by christians.

Verse 1-7 Abraham is like god you said I’d have descendants but I don't have any kids so what the fucks up with that. And gods like, I'm badass, don't doubt me dude. And god has Abraham grab some animals (ram, birds) and cut them in half (not all the birds). And some vulture type birds come and eat the carcasses and Abraham drives them away and then falls asleep. Then god tells Abraham to trust him again and night comes. Then a smoking oven thing and a torch appear and like float back and forth between that animal parts and god promises again everything he’s promised before.

Now the fuck do we care?

 It's because this is the first covenant god makes to Abraham that leads to Jesus. And christians believe they are the spiritual descendants of Abraham replacing all biological descendants in the eyes of god and therefore any promises made to Abraham about his descendants are applicable to christians and not to Jews, Muslims, or any other groups. 

This covenant also involves the blood of animals. Christians believe that this is one of the proofs that all covenants must be “sealed” in blood. This makes the promise more like a business contract and makes it extra hard to get out of. Like a pinky promise verses a regular promise because you killed something or someone.

Next is the MOSAIC COVENANT

Ok, so if you don't know at this point Abraham had some kids and they had some kids and they all moved to Egypt where they are all slaves and there are tons of them now and they’re called Israelites and pretty much it the Prince of Egypt happening now. So the one Israelite kid Moses gets adopted/raised by like Pharaohs daughter or wife (some English versions say different things) and then kills some dude and runs to the dessert for like years and then Moses sees this bush that's on literal fire (but not being damaged by the fire) and god or an angel (it depends on what version you are looking at) speaks through this bush and tell Moses to go rescue the Israelites from slavery and he goes and talks to Pharaoh (who he like knows) and Pharaoh is like hell no; and then god punishes Egypt until Pharaoh sends the Israelites off into the dessert and some stuff happens and then they all camp out by this mountain Sinai and god tells Moses in (Exodus 19) that if the people hold to his covenant with them they’ll be his special awesome chosen people.

Again this according to christian beliefs. I understand that other religions believe differently about this passage. Christians believe they have replaced these people in god’s eyes and that this covenant ended with the death of Jesus and was replaced with a new one; we will get there.

And then in Exodus 24 they all make the covenant official and have a little ceremony.  

Exodus 24:5 And he sent young men of the sons of Israel, and they offered burnt offerings and sacrificed bulls as peace offerings to the Lord. 6 Moses took half of the blood and put it in basins, and the other half of the blood he sprinkled on the altar. 7 Then he took the Book of the Covenant and read it [c]as the people listened; and they said, “All that the Lord has spoken we will do, and we will be obedient!” 8 So Moses took the blood and sprinkled it on the people, and said, “Behold the blood of the covenant, which the Lord has [d]made with you [e]in accordance with all these words.”

Again, this covenant was cemented/sealed with the the spilling of blood. And christians believe all the sacrificial laws in the OT are part of this covenant so I will go into christian belief about one of these sacrifices and what role they believe this sacrifice plays in this covenant..

Ok so we’re going to be using Leviticus chapter 1

The sacrifice is the burnt offering.

Christians believe this was offered in atonement of sin. This is a hugely important one to remember to understand the beliefs I will be laying out when I tie this all together later.

Leviticus 1:4-5

4 And he shall lay his hand on the head of the burnt offering, so that it may be accepted for him to make atonement on his behalf. 5 Then he shall [a]slaughter the [b]bull before the Lord; and Aaron’s sons the priests shall offer up the blood and sprinkle the blood around on the altar that is at the doorway of the tent of meeting

So christian believe that you would magically transfer your sins onto this animal and the animal would then be killed to assuage god's anger at your sin. 

They call this the principle of substitution. The animals blood supposedly “covered” the sin of the person so god’s “sin-dar” wouldn’t go off and so he wouldn’t “have to” send that person to hell.

This is an example of a blood sacrifice to avoid punishment for your sin.

DAVIDIC COVENANT (2 Samuel 9)

This one just said that David’s kids would be kings forever and is used by christians as proof that Jesus was the chosen, special one who is the true king and totally the best ever. Because again they believe they have replaced the Jews as god's favs and that Jesus is their legit prophesied god/king. They believe that this covenant is still in effect as Jesus rose from the dead and is still alive and will return to establish a perfect kingdom on earth later after the rapture and shit (no I won’t go into end time stuff right now)

AND NOW THE NEW COVENANT

It's called the New Covenant or the Everlasting Covenant.

It is the deal christians believe they have with god right now. It's the covenant they believe they are under. The believe this covenant is what protects them from eternal damnation.

Christians legit believe that the only way to be cleaned enough from the sin nature/”ability to fuck up” you inherited from Adam and Eve is to either die and suffer in hell or sacrifice someone/something else.  Because as Romans 6:23 lays out “For the wages of sin is death, but the gracious gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.” This is believed to be saying that the deserved punishment for sin is death. (And in this context death is believed to mean death as it would be without divine intervention. Death and eternal punishment in hell. Because remember, christians believe god is saving them from hell by cleansing them of the sin that he cannot tolerate to be around due to his divine nature that he cannot change.) and that by utilizing the death of Jesus we can be saved from that punishment. 

What does that mean?

They believe that in the OT people used animals but that it was a placeholder until Jesus made it down to us and died as the last sacrifice needed. He's special enough to count for everyone as a sacrifice because he was human but had never sinned because he was god as well but still todally human. 

And to be saved from punishment, for the sacrifice to “count” for you, you must be spiritually cleaned in his blood. That's why they say shit like “I plead the blood” and “let your blood make me white as snow” and all that fuckign wierd ass shit. They believe that by “accepting Jesus into your heart as your lord and savior” he actually, like, bonds with your soul and cleans it with the power of his sacrifice.

Like you magically put your sin onto Jesus, he died, and not that sin doesn’t “cling” to your soul because his blood cleaned you.

Here's their evidence:

Back to the Old Testament: Jeremiah 31:31-34

31 “Behold, days are coming,” declares the Lord, “when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and the house of Judah, 32 not like the covenant which I made with their fathers on the day I took them by the hand to bring them out of the land of Egypt, My covenant which they broke, although I was a husband to them,” declares the Lord. 33 “For this is the covenant which I will make with the house of Israel after those days,” declares the Lord: “I will put My law within them and write it on their heart; and I will be their God, and they shall be My people. 34 They will not teach again, each one his neighbor and each one his brother, saying, ‘Know the Lord,’ for they will all know Me, from the least of them to the greatest of them,” declares the Lord, “for I will forgive their wrongdoing, and their sin I will no longer remember.”

Christians believe that this is the first mention of the New Covenant. They believe they have fully replaced “the house of Israel and the house of Judah” and are now living under the terms of this new deal with god promised in this passage. 

A couple days before he dies at dinner with hid buddies Jesus said:

Luke 22:14-20

14 When the hour came, He reclined at the table, and the apostles with Him. 15 And He said to them, “I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer; 16 for I say to you, I shall not eat it again until it is fulfilled in the kingdom of God.” 17 And when He had taken a cup and given thanks, He said, “Take this and share it among yourselves; 18 for I say to you, I will not drink of the fruit of the vine from now on until the kingdom of God comes.” 19 And when He had taken some bread and given thanks, He broke it and gave it to them, saying, “This is My body, which is being given for you; do this in remembrance of Me.” 20 And in the same way He took the cup after they had eaten, saying, “This cup, which is poured out for you, is the new covenant in My blood.” 

Verse 16: I shall not eat it again until it is fulfilled in the kingdom of God.

Verse 18: for I say to you, I will not drink of the fruit of the vine from now on until the kingdom of God comes.

It's believed that Jesus is saying he won't eat/drink until he dies and his death fulfills the sacrificial need that must be met for christians to “be saved”. The kingdom of god will come when Jesus dies and the need (christians believe they have) to be cleaned in blood is met because once people can be cleaned in blood then the kingdom will be fulfilled and will have come. Does that make sense???? Jesus dies, people can be cleaned of badness, and that is the kingdom of god aka life under the new covenant (and some end time stuff that I will NOT do into right now).

Verse 20: And in the same way He took the cup after they had eaten, saying, “This cup, which is poured out for you, is the new covenant in My blood.” 

Christians believe that Jesus is saying here that the new covenant (that christians believe protects them from hell right now) was made using the blood of Jesus to save them.

SUMMARY

Christians believe that when Jesus died on the cross he took on all the sin of 2 groups of people:

The first group is: All the people who would have believed he is the legit son of god, also god (I am not going in to the trinity right now guys), if they had heard prior to his birth

The second group is: All the people who believed he is the legit son of god and god after his birth

And with his death cleaned all their sin off of them so they could be with god in heaven because they had no more sin for gods “sin-dar” to detect.

If we didn’t need Jesus to sacrifice himself to clean us from our sin then why did we need him at all? Without the need for Jesus blood there is no need for christianity. Christianity is all about the blood, all about the blood, all about the blood of Jesus. Because what can make me whole again? What can cleanse me white as snow? No other fount I know, nothing but the blood of Jesus.

And all chrisitians should know this because this is literally what communion is about. This is literally every good Friday service.

What is Communion and what does that have to do with all this?

For those of you who don’t know communion is a thing christians do usually do during the singing part at the beginning of a church service. It's a ritual to remember how Jesus died to save them from the punishment of their sins. Essentially it's a re-enactment of the scene from the verses I put in earlier Luke 22:14-20. 

So everyone gets a little cup of grape juice or sometimes real wine for the adults and a little piece of bread and everyone eats it and drinks it and thinks about how lucky they are that Jesus saved them from the punishment they believe they deserve.

Communion is literally remembering and spiritually partaking in and acknowledging this blood sacrifice that Jesus made.

1 Corinthians 11:23-26

23 For I received from the Lord that which I also delivered to you, that the Lord Jesus, on the night when He was betrayed, took bread; 24 and when He had given thanks, He broke it and said, “This is My body, which is for you; do this in remembrance of Me.” 25 In the same way He also took the cup after supper, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in My blood; do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of Me.” 26 For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until He comes.

And if you “do” communion with the wrong attitude can and sometimes does punish you. There's a story in the bible about a church that all got brain tumors from god because they had communion with the wrong attitude but a quick google search isn’t giving me the reference for that so if anyone knows that one please share it with me!

But here's more from Corinthians about Communion and appropriate gratefulness:

1 Corinthians 11:27-32

27 Therefore whoever eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy way, shall be guilty of the body and the blood of the Lord. 28 But a person must examine himself, and in so doing he is to eat of the bread and drink of the cup. 29 For the one who eats and drinks, eats and drinks judgment to himself if he does not properly recognize the [p]body. 30 For this reason many among you are weak and sick, and a number [q]are asleep. 31 But if we judged ourselves rightly, we would not be judged. 32 But when we are judged, we are disciplined by the Lord so that we will not be condemned along with the world.

It says that if you do “not properly recognize the [p]body” during communion you are bringing punishment on yourself. This means that if you do not show appropriate gratitude for Jesus' blood sacrifice for you, you can be punished by god; but “ we judged ourselves rightly, we would not be judged.” If you show appropriate gratitude for Jesus' blood sacrifice THEN you will be cleansed and allowed into heaven. 

IN CONCLUSION

The blood of Jesus, the blood sacrifice Jesus made, is part of every aspect of christianity. It is the core of christian beliefs. You cannot deny that the need for a blood sacrifice is the literal core of christianity. Without the need for blood, there is no need for Jesus.

[aquadrazi]

Find Someone to Carry You

Chapter 4

*****Thirteen years after the death of the Yiling Patriarch*****

“I heard the Jin Sect Leader died” “Died inside one of his whores is what I heard” “I heard the new young sect leader has been training with the Ghost of Gusu” “I heard that those young cultivators are the best in generations” “Is it true that the Second Jade of Lan turned down Chief Cultivator?” “I’m not surprised. He’s only seen around his group of Juniors when they are on night hunts” “Jin Guangyao seems to being a good job running the Jin Sect in the boy’s absence” “It seems the Jin and Lan sects are becoming closer and closer” “Maybe, but it doesn’t seem that the Ghost of Gusu cares about sect politics”

........Mo Manor…….

Lan Wangji arrived quickly after he saw Sizhui’s signal flare light up the night sky. He liked to keep his distance these days to see how his Juniors handled hunts on their own, and then would come when summoned if there were problems. They had been asked to rid the Mo Estate of some resentful energy, so apparently things were more complicated than they were led to believe.

As the Juniors recounted the events that led up to them signaling for help, Lan Wangji surveyed the area. One particular area drew his eyes.

He walked towards a run-down shack and signaled for the Juniors to follow him. The demonic hand would be dealt with, but he had a feeling there was more to this story than first appeared.

The Juniors had swarmed past him before he had finished taking in the scene, with their weapons drawn.

“Wait” He stopped them. “Tell me, what do you see?”

“Senior Lan, there is a demonic cultivator laying in the center of an array. We must kill him”

“Oh? Why must we?” Lan Wangji realized that it was high time for this lesson.

“Because demonic cultivation is evil”

“Who told you that?”

“Master Lan”

“Why is it evil?”

There was shuffling and silence.

“Is it the cultivation itself that is evil, or is it the cultivator?”

“Master Lan says that demonic cultivation erodes the mind and turns the cultivator into a monster”

“The Yiling Patriarch used demonic cultivation and he killed thousands before he was finally defeated”

“He killed my parents” Jin Ling added quietly, loud enough to only be heard by the few standing around him.

“Do you see a monster?” Lan Wangji asked calmly, despite the reference. He did not miss that most of the Juniors tensed up at the mention of Wei Ying. They had learned at a very young age that talk of the Yiling Patriarch was not tolerated around him.

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe”

“What is the array even FOR?”

“I see a boy in need of medical attention.” Sizhui said stubbornly while putting his sword away. The other Juniors followed suit. Sizhui had assumed a leadership role amongst them, they all seemed to follow his lead regardless if it was a night hunt or what game they were going to play after lecture.

“Alright. Sizhui, you take charge of seeing that Young Master Mo here doesn’t bleed to death. The rest of you, see what clues can be found in the room as to what happened here.” Lan Wangji was proud of his son. He had hoped that being raised in Cloud Recesses wouldn’t cause him to see the world as black and white, as it had for him when he was growing up.

Lan Wangji could see little bits of Wei Ying in the boy, even though he didn’t remember his time in the Burial Mounds. A-Yuan was so young when everything had happened, and when Lan Wangji had found him, the boy was suffering from a terrible fever. He still has nightmares from time to time, but Sizhui would brush them off as crazy dreams, and not memories of his past.

“Senior Lan” Jin Ling whispered next to him. “I think the spell was designed by the Yiling Patriarch.” He had found a bunch of papers and was presenting them to Lan Wangji.

How could he possibly know that?

“I- I recognize the handwriting.” Jin Ling’s hand trembled a little as Lan Wangji took the papers from him. As the Juniors grew older, Lan Wangji had spoken out loud to them less and less. However, since they had spent so much time together as they grew up, the Juniors all had an uncanny ability to read Lan Wangji’s miniscule changes in facial expressions and body language. Lan Wangji didn’t have to say anything to prompt the boy to continue his explanation.

“When I went back for my grandfather’s funeral I went looking for…” He looked around to see if anyone was in earshot, then spoke again even quieter “…the screaming man. I went back to the room I had seen him in with grandfather and Uncle Jin when I didn’t see him in the receiving hall. He wasn’t there, but there were a bunch of items that had belonged to the Yiling Patriarch there. I’m guessing that my grandfather had them collected so he could research demonic cultivation. I… read some of the journals. His writing was…distinct.” The boy almost looked ashamed as he finished his explanation.

It only took a glance for Lan Wangji to confirm that the spell was designed by Wei Ying. “You are correct”.

“It seems that the spell was designed by Senior Wei, probably during his time in the Burial Mounds with the Wen remnants.” Lan Wangji announced to the room. “So we now know that we are dealing with something that we probably haven’t seen before.”

“The Yiling Patriarch?”

“So it IS demonic cultivation.”

“I wonder if it worked…whatever it was”

Don’t be emotional.

Let them find the clues themselves.

Let them put it together.

Let them come to their own conclusions.

They are good kids with open minds, they don’t see the world as black and white.

They’ve been taught to think and gather evidence before they judge.

“Senior Lan. I’ve compared the array to the one in Senior Wei’s drawing, it was correctly drawn. I see no reason for the spell to not have worked. Also, it appears this spell is a Sacrifice Summon, so Young Master Mo would have given up his soul and offered his body as a vessel to…something… be it a demon or another spirit, to…get revenge for him.” Lan Jingyi reported.

“Has anyone found a note?” Sizhui asked from where he was tending to the boy. “If it was a Sacrifice Summon, then there would be a note with instructions for what the spirit needed to carry out.” He channeled spiritual energy into the slashes on the boy’s wrist. The ones that would only go away once whatever it was that the boy wanted done was accomplished. His eyes widened when they closed up. “Wait! The spell didn’t work. The wounds closed.”

“So that IS young Master Mo then”

“Oh good”

“What? He’s still a demonic cultivator”

“I heard he was crazy”

“At least he isn’t an ACTUAL demon”

“He must have been in a lot of pain to want to give up his life, and all future lives for revenge”

“What do you mean?”

“The caster gives up their body to another, and their soul is destroyed in the process”

“So he was expecting to die”

“Why would anyone do that?”

Uncle would be very irritated at the Juniors chattering while looking for clues. However Lan Wangji didn’t discourage it. He liked to hear what they were thinking, and where their thought processes were going. He found it was easier to teach them if he KNEW what they were thinking, rather than guessing. The irony was not lost on him. If he had been more verbal with Wei Ying maybe things would have turned out differently. He would not make that mistake again.

No, he encouraged his Juniors to voice everything they thought and felt. He wanted them all to know that they could rely on each other no matter the situation. He never wanted to see another cultivator on their own, battling the world, misunderstood. His Juniors would have each other, even after he was long gone.

“I found a note!”

“What does it say?”

“Who was he trying to summon?”

“Who did he want revenge on?”

Their questions were broken by a sudden screaming coming from young Master Mo. “No, no please. Please stop. Please let me go, I’m scared. I don’t want to. Please, it hurts. I’ll be good, I swear. I’ll be good. Please!”

Sizhui pulled the boy into his lap and held him tightly so he couldn’t thrash about. “It’s okay, Just breathe. No one here will hurt you. Can you breathe for me?” He said soothingly to the boy while rocking him.

The boy continued to sob and beg pathetically into Sizhui’s shoulder as Sizhui whispered into the boy’s ear and rocked him gently.

“He was trying to summon the Yiling Patriarch. He wanted revenge on those who…had abused him.”

“But the spell didn’t work.”

“Does that mean that the Yiling Patriarch is alive?”

“That can’t be. The Jin clan saw him burst into a million pieces”

“Well, if he is definitely dead, then that must mean there wasn’t a soul to summon”

No soul.

Wei Ying’s soul was destroyed.

Wei Ying hasn’t just been avoiding Inquiry for the past 13 years.

He wasn’t just hiding, feeling hurt and betrayed.

His soul was destroyed, so there was nothing left to talk to.

Wei Ying would never reincarnate.

Wei Ying no longer existed.

Lan Wangji felt like someone had reached into his chest, ripped out his heart, and was squeezing it in front of his eyes.

“Se-Senior Lan? Are you okay?”

The Juniors were staring at him with looks of concern. “Mn” was all he could manage for them.

“Let’s regroup back at Cloud Recesses.” Sizhui suggested, realizing that his father was having some sort of emotional crisis. The Juniors murmured and nodded in agreement as they took samples of the talismans hanging from the walls, and all the papers that had been found, and exited the shack.

The boy in his arms whimpered as Sizhui lifted him up, even though he was careful not to press against any of the injuries he could see.

“It’s going to be okay now. No one is going to hurt you again.” Sizhui tried to soothe the boy as he carried him out of the shack. “We will help you”.

“Senior Lan, can you fly on your own?” Lan Wangji felt an arm on his shoulder, steadying him.

“I will be fine” Lan Wangji responded. It wasn’t a lie, he was sure that he would be fine to fly. The Junior stayed by his side as he left the shack, which he was glad for because his legs were fighting him to stay standing up. “I will just need a minute.”

The cool night air helped him to focus on the present. There was a young boy who needed their help, and a demonic hand to get to a secure place. There was also the information that the Jin sect had Wei Ying’s work from when he was in the Burial Mounds, and had been using it in experiments for years. Young Master Mo was one of Jin Guangshan’s bastards, and had been kicked out for being crazy. Perhaps he had been part of the experiments. That would explain the demonic cultivation.

Lan Wangji breathed deeply and steadily until his mind calmed down. They would travel back to Cloud Recesses, the boy would be tended to, and they would look through the clues and try to get a better picture of what was going on.

Once those things were taken care of, then he would allow himself to fall apart.

[riviae]

there are times when the grief of it all—what he has lost, the hand he played in marching his friends into the very maw of death—overwhelms geralt.

he has never found sleep easy, but there are some nights where the memories eat away at him. the guilt has a hunger that threatens to strip him bare, leave nothing but the bones and aches of a life lived on the edge of a bloodied sword. geralt had never been afraid of death until he had people he cared about. perhaps he had been afraid of the pain, the suddenness, or worse, the possible torture of a slow death, but death itself? it was a mercy all witchers sought at one time or another; when you are shown only hate and fear, when your only option is to be shunned or despised, any end to that would be seen as a gift.

geralt cursed to himself. he had been wandering aimlessly through the night, and yet, he found himself in front of a certain graveyard. 

when he had first visited the mère-lachaiselongue cemetery, before he knew that regis was alive, he had found that unlike most places he passed in his travels, mère-lachaiselongue tugged stubbornly at his heart, so much so that a sprig of homesickness seemingly took root overnight. there was something achingly familiar about the ivy-covered mausoleum nestled within the forest of gravestones and oaks, something familiar in the scattered dark feathers of the ravens roosting on the roof that stared back with ancient, coal black eyes.

(it had only been a moment, but as he ushered roach back onto the dirt path, geralt had thought he caught the familiar scent of herbs--of basil, cinnamon, and thyme--in the wind. but then it was gone, just another ghost of a memory he could not put to rest.)

now, as he approached the crypt, he saw that there was a lantern by the door, its flame glowing a soft gold in the dark. it was a new moon, and despite his mutations his sight was limited, the pitch-black of night swallowing what existed in his periphery, leaving him with what amounted to tunnel vision unless he took another potion of cat. instead, he picked up the lantern with a soft smile and found himself opening the door and descending the stairs before he could convince himself that he shouldn’t.  

the vampire’s living quarters did not smell of death or decay--there was but a light musk of the old tomes that lined the wooden shelves and geralt felt some measure of tension leave his body at the calming scent of herbs. once upon a time, the scent had been strong and pungent, but like any scent someone is subjected to long enough, it eventually loses its strength. now, it reminded him of a forest, of six figures huddled around a campfire, of a home that only existed in his memories. 

“geralt,” regis says, tone pleasant and light as he continues to stir the contents within the large black cauldron, his back turned to the witcher. “what a lovely surprise. can i help you with something, my friend?” 

whatever reply rests on the tip of his tongue suddenly does not feel enough. he wants to say regis, i’m sorry. and why don’t you hate me? you died because of me, and everywhere i go in toussaint brings back another memory i’ve tried to bury and it feels like i’m losing my mind. instead, the witcher says,“did you know that the kitchen table in beauclair palace hasn’t been replaced yet?” 

the vampire turns around, leaving the large ladle in the cauldron without a forethought. geralt blinks once and then regis is in front of him, less than an arm’s length away.

in the dim light of the crypt, regis’ eyes glow a haunting silver as he reaches towards geralt. the warmth and weight of the vampire’s hand against his own is not unpleasant and he doesn’t even realize that regis has gently extracted the lantern from his knuckle-white grasp until it is resting alone on a nearby slab of stone. the witcher’s hands are trembling as if he’s stayed out too long in a frigid downpour, but he can’t understand why they are shaking now. he’s not afraid of regis--never has been, really. not even when he had first flashed his too-sharp teeth in a mocking sneer all those years ago. 

there’s a sudden, strange sense of dissociation, as if he’s not really in his body--as if it’s not his body at all. he doesn’t recognize it, the sudden trembling, the quickened heart-beat thudding in his ears, but it reminds him faintly of what he feels at the cusp of terror. the times where he had stared death in the face with nothing but a sword at his side. 

there is nothing to fear here, yet his legs crumble underneath him all the same, the dull ache in his bad knee rising to a painful crescendo. it is only thanks to regis that he doesn’t shatter his kneecap again, the vampire’s strong hold allowing for his knees to only lightly skim the floor. the witcher is barely supporting his own weight now, his heart still galloping at a rate much faster than it should as regis tugs him closer, tucking him gently against him. 

“it’s alright... you’re alright, geralt,” regis says softly, listening to the minute changes within the witcher’s circulatory system. “i’m here, with you. i’m not going anywhere. you’re safe here.” 

the words pierce through the fog within geralt’s mind, bringing him briefly back into the present. even in the worst of times, regis had been an anchor, something to cling to when he felt like his world was crumbling around him. 

(& then, suddenly, he had withered away--became ash, a crumbling pillar, another casualty that geralt somehow survived. a thing he shouldn’t have survived, but did. he outlived so many of his friends, so many of his companions... how much loss could one person take before it drove them mad? geralt wasn’t sure, but he felt himself teetering on the edge of some great precipice, unsure of what rested on the other side.) 

he hasn’t had regis back for long and he was still getting used to having the vampire in his life. in having someone he got to keep, to cherish. someone who knew what he had gone through, who had seen it with his own dark eyes and emerged from the rubble all the same. it was difficult, learning to rely on others, but geralt felt his hands unconsciously dig into the soft fabric of regis’ shirt, felt himself press closer to the vampire, still trembling, still on the edge of breaking, but soothed somewhat by the gentle beat of regis’ heart. 

“i still hear it,” he confesses, sorrow stuck in his throat. “everyone’s screams. your screams.” 

“geralt...” regis breathes, this time running a comforting hand through the witcher’s hair. “you aren’t to blame for any of that. we knew what we signed up for. everyone knew the risks, the likelihood of survival. it was our choice, geralt. don’t ever think that you had some nefarious role in this; you did not force anyone to go to stygga. you did not kill them. their deaths are not your burden to bear.” 

“that may be true... but if we hadn’t all met, if i had just gone on this journey alone... they’d all still be alive. you wouldn’t have suffered the way that you did, regis. that i know for sure.” 

“that may be true, but they also wouldn’t have lived. don’t you see, geralt? we loved being in your company. in becoming friends. our lives all collided for a reason--and i think we all became better people because of it. i don’t think anyone--not milva, dandelion, cahir, or dear angouleme--would have chose a different path even if they knew how it was all to end. destiny was not kind, in the end, but i daresay knowing you, geralt, changed us all.” regis paused, voice soft with adoration. “you have no idea how you affect people. how your natural kindness, your desire to do the right thing, no matter how difficult, inspires goodness in others. i know you would sacrifice everything for us... it’s only fair that you let them do the same, without guilt. let them rest, geralt. there is no need to torture yourself over things you had no control over.” 

at his words, geralt felt the rare sting of tears. his mutations had almost made the ability to produce tears impossible--but perhaps it was the years of loneliness, years of wishing things had gone differently, only to hear the kind words of one of his closest friends absolving him of such guilt, that made the tears spring forth. he cried silently, wetting the edge of regis’ collar. 

the vampire said nothing, but held him tighter all the same.

he cried until he could cry no longer, until he was so tired that his eyes began to close against his will. it was a start, he thought, just as he slipped into unconsciousness. it was a start in accepting all that had happened in his long life. but he had regis, he had ciri, he had yen, he had dandelion, and he had the other wolf school witchers--his own family of choice. the family he had made for himself. 

he didn’t need to face his grief alone. never again. 

[aph1wonderland]

Achilles Come Down(Songfic)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T_V76Dm42bY

(by Gangs Of Youths) Happy late birthday Kay {1/11}]

Achilles

Achilles

Achilles come down, won't you

Get up off

Get up off the roof?

She heard stories, how people get visions blessed by archons, when they know they have lost something dear to them. It's selfish for her to claim she has so much, but how can she bare face with the honorless daughter who selfishly granted a wish to her desperate mother? To be given freedom, but at what cost? The obedient daughter can no longer learn because her household refused her to excel in her gifts they sold her.

You're scaring us

And all of us

Some of us love you

Achilles, it's not much but there's proof

She could only acknowledge the sacrifices of her mother’s paranoia and insanity driving her to act out of her driven mind. Forced to push her first daughter gifted to leave the nest before the danger of a curse to seal her away. What a feeling she learned when fought as a child, not entirely understanding why her fragile and injured mother could dare teach her violent arts of breaking bones. No matter what she could with the trait passed down to obey like she did, the inhuman strength was supposed to be her brother’s. Was she supposed to be a man, or play a coward of a woman like she was last time she saw her.

You crazy assed cosmonaut

Remember your virtue

Redemption lies plainly in truth

Perhaps it was insane to teach her child to fight and out of turn for her to act this way on the day she was supposed to depart away to Fontaine.  To run, a virtue truly from her heart, passion but plainly she didn’t know how to fly by herself if she nested warmly alone in her noble home. But maybe it was a better hesitation than she thought distracted by the differences of Liyue Harbor the sounds, the unknown to the factors of cultures shifted from them and herself. 

Just humour us

Achilles

Achilles come down

Won't you get up off

Get up off the roof

She was bringing too much attention to herself. A distraction to few of the many bustling crowds, it did not help if she was holding her vision from Inazuma. The crafted origin of her homelands if only it was possible to cover it up, but she cannot do anything to god blessed item. Afraid to break such a glorified object that could possibly bring her even more fear brought among her. She could not say much but the expensive silks of her layers of clothing on her and mora tied as the side of her sash. Perhaps this was a better choice to exchange for more temporary stability.

Achilles

Achilles

Achilles come down, won't you

Get up off

Get up off the roof?

Parting for her meticulous layers, as if she felt bare to foreign weather. It was an uncommonly shifted need to adapt. To live is to survive the world that felt dangerous in the as if shores she arrived at the port, soaking her soles. As the hydro element felt attuned as she gazed over it, perhaps she mistaken it for cryo for a few seconds. The newly acquired clothing felt perhaps embarrassing to be seen wearing it, but it must be done. Exposing skin could throw them off of her, needing eyes to attend too afforded a pair of glasses to wear. No longer blinded and blurred by the setback. 

The self is not so weightless

Nor whole and unbroken

Remember the pact of our youth

She planned back to see the village of her mother, in which she thought would be best to rely on them for a settlement. As quick she wanted to live again, the feeling of the forest life once again she’ll dearly make it possible to work away her favor and honor. The face of her selfish wish from her mother’s demands, for once she’ll do her justice in living in the truth then the lie. She was the selfish one in the end to drink the god’s gift in the journey of living outside the box.

Where you go

I'm going

So jump and I'm jumping

Since there is no me without you

The hardest part was truly talking to the leader of the community of Qingce Village. Basic knowledge of contract is the word of the old in Liyue, for that it must be fair to do so as a way to be accepted. As long as she can work what she can there’ll be no one to stop her from becoming something unexpected. Perhaps if she’ll survive the jump she’s making herself take, someday she’ll see her mother smile once more. One day she will not need to hear rumors of the walls that could speak about her siblings and the warmth of the sun not the gaze of cold expectations.

Soldier on

Achilles

Achilles come down

Won't you get up off

Get up off the roof?

As if her eyes hesitated at the time she heard from the old woman, she warmly laughed off her noble character she played. She felt warm, her own layer of her mask cracking and her face wrinkling in confusion. Perhaps one day she’ll understand why she left, accepted into the community and warm tears to the location to her new home. Gazing at the moon and the stars  among the indigo sky, on the roof. Feeling alone at the end of the ledge wondering why does she feel this sadness?

Loathe the way they light candles in Rome

But love the sweet air of the votives

Hurt and grieve but don't suffer alone

Engage with the pain as a motive

It had been an additional two years she had hesitated a few times to work her way into the community  once again, when the old woman told her to visit the night of the lantern festival and live a bit. Scolding her for something as tedious as working too much for others and not herself. She wishes to stay, tending her home, to the children in the village. Listen over to the elderly and middle aged for things to do, when she returns from the commissions in the early morning before. She could not see herself anymore as a woman who could stand sitting looking beautiful in wealth in silken in silence without someone or a book in hand. Yet here she is fidgeting to do something in Liyue Harbor, gazing at the port away from the festivity waiting for it to end. Hands shaking over the candle lights, flashing sounds of fireworks behind her. 

Today of all days

See

Leaning against the stone fencing far away from the peaceful cold tones wondering about Inazuma. Her 2nd younger sister, Kaori was already sent to Fontaine after her brother 3rd youngest Daichi was prepared. Who knows where, but hope the best for him. That his wife would not stop him from doing what he loved in the end. Becoming an alchemist and a doctor, something she felt taken from her life however perhaps this is the exchange of her natural build taking away his inhuman strength. She loved every single child born in that house. Chie, she has yet to entirely meet, but she must have been close to a mischievous child she was when she was younger running in the fields. Last time she remembered from her nanny telling her before sending her off from the interception of her mother that week she fled.

How the most dangerous thing is to love

How you will heal and you'll rise above

Thinking about it now she was alone on the side of this world, the chills returned. It felt suffocating and an uncomfortable delusion to find herself drowning in the sea of doubt. The constellation of her verse was a siren, or a mermaid. They long and lost their dreams and here she was living the dream not of hers but someone else's, what could she say now but choke back the mourning not of death but the new life given to her. Perhaps she’ll love the gods for this life for hers, the opportunities to breath in the beauty of Liyue. Live for the virtues of Justice, but for now she shall wait for the day to be taken back home, not alone but with others in strength. 

Achilles

Achilles

Achilles

Jump now

You are absent of cause

Or excuse

She flinched when she turned to look to the side to see a tall man, he was beautiful. Awed at the sight of the strangely encapsulating man who was glowing entrancingly from the lights and the moon as well. Mostly his vision of his eyes from the mid ranged distance, she panicked once again when he caught her staring. Flustered in beyond her life had she met a man who made her feel so out of place. He was confused why she suddenly looked away, “Miss? Perhaps you are a traveler? Considering I have yet to see you before in this country? Have finished experiencing the festival in Liyue?” She froze, right the festival that is taking place right now. Was she dreading for so long to not realize the time?

So self-indulgent

And self-referential

No audience could ever want you

One thing is for sure she was embarrassed herself once again, no way to correct the fact she had nothing to tell this man to answer that. “Perhaps you are asking for an introduction from a stranger like myself, but it does not seem fair if you do not return the favor first. In all honesty I did not partake in the event, I tend to busy myself too much in working around Liyue as an Adventurer from the guild. Well I don’t know how to experience these events. It’s best for me not to attend and perhaps ruin it all. Good night Sir.” She shouldn’t bother this man at all, leaving was the only thing on her mind.

You crave the applause

Yet hate the attention

Then miss it, your act is a ruse

“Would it be possible for me to guide you through the festival? Of course I am Zhongli of Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, a consultant, may I ask for the name of your Miss?” She stopped, “I would not mind if you were to show me the knowledge of yours of your beloved Liyue. I am Kay of Haru, please do not mind my hesitancy and not honor among me to be called anything as Miss. Kay is enough for me to be called in such a fluency.” Returning a feeble gaze up to him, taking him as her guide for that night to return alive that day. 

It is empty, Achilles

So end it all now

It's a pointless resistance

For you

Achilles

Achilles

Just put down the bottle

Don't listen to what you've consumed

Open to opportunities and refreshed and ready to work her life for another day to look for Mister Zhongli had inspired her to take on learning the world the best she can starting with Liyue. From the whole trip listening to him speak the loveliest tunes of a tone, enchanted possibly. Yet she began to notice how little time she spent on her commissions in which she decided to ask Katherine in a few hours for more things to do. In which she began to enjoy the thrill of control she realized of her life envirgated by the thought itself grew her confidence and growth in her skills. Passing 5 years had affected her bond with Mister Zhongli to increase in size on her personal affections to his personal side of feelings towards simple things in life. Someone who could answer her curiosities in the best way they could and confide, not once thought about leaving the country of Liyue.

It's chaos, confusion

And wholly unworthy

Of feeding and it's wholly untrue

Yet with few time he found her as often as he could in Liyue in finding her in returning to Katherine filing in the many commissions built as she carried on her shoulders. He gave her glaze lilies on her birthday each year, not sure how he knew, but perhaps the old woman told him. Cooking was one her specialties in which she began collecting recipes after trying to find a way to return back to Mister Zhongli to acknowledge his distaste in seafood as a reminder. Perhaps he was too addicting to let go, however was that alright to call him something close to a friend. Would that be alright with him?

You may feel no purpose

Nor a point for existing

It's all just conjecture and gloom

Yet she would miss him as much as she thought when Childe took on his arrival. Perhaps the fact alone that she took on now is the gnawing hunger, she was childish to share a desire of hers with him. Considering the truth, he always found her and never the other way around. She did not see him that much anymore, feeling like a distant memory that returns every week he does. Never once complained for the fact she enjoyed his company, for the returning fact, she was lonely.

And there may not be meaning

So find one and seize it

Do not waste your self on this roof

Perhaps for once a longing will not leave her and let her stay on the roof of her home given to her and the children of those who breathed in this village. The moon was always lucky to know it was never alone, possibilities of her insecurities to eat her. Was she not worthy to know the fact she is not considered in the spotlight, but entirely on being known? Still he gave her glaze lilies on her birthday.

Hear those bells ring deep in the soul

Chiming away for a moment

Feel your breath course frankly below

See life as a worthy opponent

Driven to bite back the petty thieves in Liyue with her strength reporting to the adventurer’s guild and stealing treasures and effort from others. She did not like them, she made sure to take note of base locations from each leader she fought, monsters she battled and planned meticulously in a clean beat down. Same old same old, spending Mora on things she could think of. To one she could tend to a bird; Kyu a loving bird with a blank expression but a silent affectionate one in the end of it all, who carries packages and wordless secrets of her loneliness. Perhaps her own feelings she can express is what tearing her apart over and over again. Life was hers to learn more of as her commissions made her wander to Monstadt’s region but never once thought about entering into the city of freedom.

Today of all days

See

How the most dangerous thing is to love

How you will heal and you'll rise above

Crowned by an overture bold and beyond

Ah, it's more courageous to overcome

She faced Childe in a confrontation when Mister Zhongli brought him over for dinner that week at her home. Why did it take a year for her to finally meet Childe, Mister Zhongli? She frowned, but bonded slowly with Childe, he was pretty sketchy around her, but nonetheless she wasn’t alone if Childe actually had something to confide with family. Considering they had similar visions from the same values of Justice but different archons blessed. He gave white lies with reason, sometimes it was cruel to keep to himself. While Kay herself was one who hesitates but nevertheless her strength is for the good reasons that are proven. Yet even the harder things get she won’t give in so easily she rather die fighting for things that are right, failing to do so does not mean she’ll stop. The moment she’ll stop if she dies breathing blood. Perhaps that’s why she talks with him often, even that does not satisfy her.

You want the acclaim

The mother of mothers (it's not worth it Achilles)

More poignant than fame

Or the taste of another (don't listen Achilles)

But be real and just jump

You dense motherf*cker (you're worth more, Achilles)

You will not be more

Than a rat in the gutter (so much more than a rat)

You want my opinion (no one asked your opinion)

My opinion you've got

You asked for my counsel (no one asked for your thoughts)

I gave you my thoughts

Be done with this now

And jump off the roof

Can you hear me Achilles?

Mister Zhongli lowered his visits to her compared to Childe who was able to find him whenever he needed to talk to him. However another person, the traveler, arrived in Liyue a few weeks ago. However Mister Zhongli had briefly mentioned her if they needed any assistance. Not sure how to feel if he was using her, unsure if their bond would be truly mended and here she was letting him into her own heart every time he came. Why does she hesitate when it comes to him? Someone who could destroy all her defenses and weaken her to the point she doesn’t help but stutter. She’s not sure if Mister Zhongli realizes as she doesn’t entirely, she is hurting. She is selfish to continue this cycle she let herself eat till he leaves her. This is not entirely healthy, she’s disgusted to look how encapsulated when it comes to him. Perhaps it’s better to give up before it ruins her, she thought. She’s selfish to think he would see her again. Does this mean she’s drowning by the sea  with no shores for her to rely on.

I'm talking to you

I'm talking to you

I'm talking to you

I'm talking to you

Achilles come down

Achilles come down

“Kay.” She stood by the cliffs and turned around to see Mister Zhongli with the Traveler. She is confused yet a bit sad by her own thoughts of self pity. “Mister Zhongli. It’s been too long hasn’t it?” The Traveler worriedly looked in between them. “Hello dear Traveler, I hope you’ve been well, I hope I did well to help you in Liyue.” She ignored the fact Zhongli was about to respond to her, but ended letting him continue since the Traveler nudged him to do so. “I apologize, if I left you too much in the dark. Perhaps we could mend for a few moments with a story to tell. I will confess the fact I was not honest in my reasons for disappearing too much.” Her eyes conflicted, whether or not he was truly speaking his mind, but knowing him for years regardless of his disappearance. She sighs, bitterly but allowing his invitation to tell about the salt goddess that late evening. 

Throw yourself into the unknown

With pace and a fury defiant

Clothe yourself in beauty untold

And see life as a means to a triumph

Today of all days

See

One thing she could even do was not judge him, but comfort him as a human like she was born to do. Sure she was angry, but nothing could compare over the immortal and emotional wounds that cut deeply over time and left a swollen temperament of a situation. She cannot help but relate once again leaving her fragile over the fact she wasn’t smart enough to understand him, but connect through the empathic nature she was. In the end she knew she'd join the Traveler to Inazuma to finish her parting justice for her country. Perhaps one day she’ll understand to feel more, if they joined them. Perhaps she’ll tell people in Liyue about her choice in following the Traveler.

How the most dangerous thing is to love

How you will heal and you'll rise above

Crowned by an overture bold and beyond

Ah, it's more courageous to overcome

She loved this man to the end of her aging life, even if he would not take it for granted compared to her existence. After following her beloved traveler to the end of their journey, healing her country she must take over duties as next head with the revived honor of her clan. She realizes Mister Zhongli will wait for her, not the reason she wants to believe. In which she cannot return the sentiment that he plans to give back in the end. That is not the love she needed from him, nor can force it. For that she will settle for another, her children will remember the age or gods in her place. She will heal and forgive him over and over again. For she will love him to not feel forgotten for eternity. Perhaps he was right to compare her to glaze lilies on her birthdays.

[tlbodine]

What Zombie Movies Teach Us About COVID-19

As I write this, it is April 20, 2020, and  42,514 Americans have died of COVID-19, the disease caused by a deadly novel coronavirus first discovered in late 2019. South Korea has just  237 deaths from the disease. 

The two countries learned about the virus at roughly the same time, and had the same amount of time to respond to the disease. But the responses took wildly different paths, with vastly different outcomes -- as you can see. 

But I’m not here to talk about that, not exactly. I’m here to talk about zombies. 

Train to Busan (2016), directed by Yeon Sang-ho, tells the story of a zombie outbreak in Korea, with the action focused predominantly on the passengers of a train. It’s one of my favorite zombie movies, in large part because the flavor of its zombie narrative is so different from the types of zombie stories we see in America. It’s a fresh spin, driven by cultural influences and the director’s vision, and it’s a movie that’s been at the forefront of my mind since watching the vastly different responses of South Korea and the USA to the current pandemic. 

Train to Busan is a film concerned with the morality of classism, a theme repeated in many South Korean exports (see 2019′s Parasite for another example). Innate in that premise is a moral statement about collectivism, cooperation and kindness that runs contrary to everything American zombie fiction holds dear. 

Train to Busan’s main character, Seok Woo, is a fund manager, a white-collar businessman who operates in the financial sector. In his introduction, we see him reviewing reports of the biological leak that we the viewer already know is responsible for zombies; he advises a concerned investor not to sell his shares, as the reports could be false or the worry is premature -- and then, a moment later, hangs up the phone and sells his own shares. It's implied later that his role in financing the company may give him some moral responsibility in the disaster -- ie, he invested in a company, knew that it was harmful, and reacted not by blowing the whistle on that harm but instead by selling his ownership and thus profiting.

The film treats this as morally reprehensible. Indeed, Seok Woo's storyline is a tragedy: We will see him brought low by his flaws, struggle to overcome them, but ultimately fall short.

This is quite different from American zombie narratives, which more often than not place the hero as a working-class underdog who finds himself suddenly uniquely equipped to deal with the threat at hand. Consider police officer Rick Grimes (and, for that matter, hillbilly archer Daryl) in The Walking Dead, or retired U.N. investigator Gerry Lane in World War Z. Perhaps the best example of the type is Zombieland's Tallahassee, a quintessential "Florida Man" -- rough around the edges, crude, eccentric, socially inept but good with a gun and  a willingness to adopt the role of patriarch in the post-apocalyptic found family narrative. 

Implicit in American zombie fiction is a promise of role reversal, of a social upheaval in which established ruling classes will no longer matter and in which new lines of power can be drawn -- and that power rests squarely on a foundation of guns, violence, and a small but tightly knit family structure united against external threats both human and supernatural. 

Of course, guns can’t serve as a currency of power or survival in Train to Busan because there are no guns. South Korea has some of the world’s strictest gun laws, and nobody riding on a passenger train would have a firearm at the ready. This makes for a much more thrilling narrative thanks to the balance of power shifting heavily in the zombie horde’s favor; it also forces characters to work together for survival, relying more on wits than strength.

Like many zombie film protagaonists before him, Seok Woo is a father -- a disengaged, overworked father, but one who’s trying his best. But unlike some horror movie kids, his daughter Su-An is more than a victim-in-waiting; she’s the moral centerpiece of the story, an external conscience who serves to gently remind her father of his misplaced priorities and call him on his bullshit.

Fleshing out the rest of the cast are more unlikely heroes: a high school baseball team, a homeless man, a pair of old ladies, and a middle-aged man, Sang-hwa, traveling with his pregnant wife. Sang-hwa is an especially important character, holding up a mirror in some ways to our protagonist: he has a successful, loving marriage where the hero's has failed; he is a doting, patient father where Seok-woo is out of touch.

It is hardly coincidental that this core group of characters is comprised almost exclusively of vulnerable people. And once the zombie disaster strikes, it becomes clear that the job of the less-vulnerable is to step up and protect the most vulnerable, even within a group where no one is especially skilled, heroic, or well-trained to deal with this.

Self-sacrifice is the recurring theme of Train to Busan, delivered with a bludgeoning regularity -- but each death is valorized, the narrative making it clear through its storytelling techniques that these sacrifices are meaningful and heroic.

It’s worth noting, too, that the self-sacrifice that drives the narrative is made necessary by the selfishness of others. Sang-hwa is bitten and stays behind to hold back hordes of zombies only because another group of survivors locked them out of their car.

Those exclusionary survivors -- a group spearheaded by a rich businessman who declares himself early on to be too important to risk his life -- receive their comeuppance soon enough. Here's the clip in all its satisfying glory: 

All of which is not to say that self-sacrifice is not a trope that shows up in other zombie media as well. But I have never seen it the focus of a film with such brazen commitment before. 

In Hollywood storytelling, self-sacrifice all too often comes in two flavors. The first: The only righteous path a fatally flawed anti-hero can take. The second: A heroic cop-out, where the character sacrifices him/herself but fails to actually die thanks to unexpected circumstances -- suggesting, thematically, that willingness toward self-sacrifice is all that is required, and that good things come to those who deserve them. 

In a lot of zombie media -- and post-apocalyptic media in general -- storylines often flirt with the morality of sacrificing other people for the greater good. Heroes will grapple with the decision, and the one who pulls the trigger may ultimately succumb to guilt or plot karma (Shane and Otis in The Walking Dead, for example), but the discussion is given serious weight and consideration. 

Train to Busan makes it clear that such cold calculations aren’t just villainous, they’re cowardly and pathetic. 

Other popular zombie tropes that fail to make an appearance in the film include: 

A self-appointed leader calling the shots and telling others to get in line 

The asshole pragmatist arguing with the self-appointed leader

The untrustworthy outsider and/or villainous mole 

The weak or cowardly idiot who gets people killed by virtue of being useless and/or careless 

Utterly useless or corrupt government/military/authority 

In many zombie stories, man is the real monster, and this holds true in many ways for Train to Busan. But the focus is different. Rather than the monster being the outsider who comes for your supplies, or the stranger who you trust only to be stabbed in the back, the worst humans in Train to Busan are those who act with distrust and selfishness. 

Declaring yourself the leader, securing a perimeter, and making a difficult choice to turn away strangers at the gate in order to protect your own group is the action of heroes in a show like The Walking Dead. In Train to Busan, those same actions are villainous and ultimately lead to ruin. 

On the flipside, soft-heartedness in American zombie films is often both foolish and disastrous. Consider, for example, Hershel’s barn in Season 2 of The Walking Dead, where walkers are corralled in dangerously high numbers out of an optimistic belief that they can be cured. Just as heroic self-sacrifice becomes a recurring theme in Train to Busan, an endless cycle of trust and betrayal is the signature of The Walking Dead, and the show routinely rewards its moral centerpieces -- like Dale and Hershel -- with deaths that are treated not as valiant but as senselessly tragic. 

But let’s get back to my central thesis. What does any of this have to do with COVID-19? 

When South Korea first became aware of the threat of the novel coronavirus, its government immediately launched a response called TRUST:  “Transparency, Robust screening and quarantine, Unique but universally applicable testing, Strict control, and Treatment.” 

The heart of the program was testing, not just of obviously sick people but of those without symptoms or known exposure -- and then carefully tracing the contacts of those found to have a positive result and isolating anyone who was infected. But the price of this widespread testing goes beyond the monetary needs of dveloping and administering tests; it comes too at the cost of certain freedoms. The South Korean government is able to track down and contain its citizens through credit card records, cellphone data, security cameras and other Orwellian security devices that would make most Americans' skin crawl. Add that to a cultural norm of wearing medical masks in public and obeying social distancing as a matter of course (less casual touch and physical contact, greater personal space) and South Korea’s spread of disease has been quite slow. 

Meanwhile, in the USA, people across the country are breaking social distancing rules in order to gather in public and protest the quarantine measures that have left many without jobs and which, some say, infringe upon civil liberties. Mixed messaging about the efficacy of masks, and a long history of masks being associated with crime, have also made it hard to win Americans over to mask-wearing in public -- even though if we could get 100% of people wearing masks, the spread of disease would drop dramatically (and the economy could open sooner). 

Countless political, historical, and socioeconomcic factors are at work differentiating these two nations, and the situation is infinitely more complex than any movie. But I do think viewing the coronavirus through the zombie apocalypse lens helps to make sense of these wildly different responses to the disease. 

Time and again, America’s zombie media has hammered home certain essential lessons: 

When times get hard, you will be called on to step up and take decisive action 

Difficult decisions will need to be made, and the people who are too soft-hearted or cowardly to make those decisions will put others at risk 

The safety of your own family (or found family) is paramount, and any threat to the family must be immediately destroyed 

Survival will be a matter of strength, guns and resources 

Institutions like the military, government and police are useless at best and often corrupt or downright murderous; you can trust only in yourself

Viewed in that context, it’s hardly surprising that the United States response to the pandemic has involved hoarding supplies, buying guns, distrusting scientific authorities, and even staging protests. 

By comparison, the take-home lessons from Train to Busan are quite different: 

No one person is above or more important than anyone else 

If you have power, it is your duty to protect those who are more vulnerable

Selfishness invites trouble 

Self-sacrifice is heroic and sometimes necessary for the greater good 

All of which is not to say that there is no value in the American lessons. There are times when the values of individualism, decisive action, self-sufficiency and suspicion may well be exactly what is needed for survival. 

But during a pandemic of a disease that overwhelmingly affects the already-vulnerable -- the elderly, those with disabilities, those living in poverty -- it seems self-evident that values tied to protecting the weak and working together to protect public safety are the values that will prove most successful. 

At the end of Train to Busan, the survivors of the ordeal is not the strongest, best-prepared, or cleverest of the people on the train. They are young Su-An and  Seong-Kyeong, the film’s most vulnerable characters -- and also its kindest. In an ending reminiscent of Night of the Living Dead, they emerges the sole survivors to face the path of armed military men who at first mistake her for a zombie. But Train to Busan is, for all of its tragedy, a film devoid of cynicism. The soldiers stop just short of shooting when they hear Su-On singing and realize that she’s alive. 

In the end, it is quite literally her humanity that saves her. 

Living in a time of coronavirus means making self-sacrifices, including personal liberty and livelihood. And while none of our sacrifices are likely to be as dramatic as those made by characters in Train to Busan, they are no less heroic or necessary. 

And that is, to me, a lesson worth remembering.