#and this is the answer which makes the most sense to me

[randombush3]

the winner takes it all

alexia putellas x reader

summary: an unexpected invitation throws your world off-kilter

words: 6276

content warnings: it's a bit unfaithful

notes: in this universe real madrid is a proper opponent and rival to barcelona, in the sense that funding and history is relatively equal (so it's basically more like the men's rivalry)

idk where this came from tbh

Amb gran alegria, 

Alexia i Olga

T’invitem a celebrar la nostra unió matrimonial. 

10 d’agost de 2025

Gran Hotel Mas d’en Bruno

You haven’t read Catalan in years. You squint at the details. 

You wish you had forgotten it. 

Only Alexia would do this to you, twisting the knife as though it’s a favour, a compliment. Make it seem psychotic for not wanting to go, make it seem like it’s not a big deal. 

The invitation isn’t personalised. You are not special in her eyes. You have been allowed onto the guest list, you have no mark in her life. Surely Olga would have objected if she’d known, if she’d been told. Maybe Alexia doesn’t talk about it. Maybe she has heard your name on match reports and team sheets, announcements for captaincy, interviews with Las 16 who called you traidora then and call you traidora now. 

As if she knew it was coming, your phone begins to light up with messages from Alba. Apologies, perhaps, in her own Alba way. Stuff like ‘are you coming’ and ‘you don’t have to’ and then more buzzing, vibrating the shitstorm into a phone call. 

You don’t speak often. Why would you? But you answer it, listless, really, and unsure what the correct approach to this even is. 

“Hola, traidorita,” she says with a nervous giggle, reclaiming your nickname in Barcelona but reminding you of how you are perceived nevertheless. “I don’t know why you are on the guest list.��� 

Alba is like this: straight to the point, unafraid of her sister and unafraid to tell you what she thinks. They are very different, which is why she is the only one who has your current number in her contacts. 

“You told her where I live,” you respond. Your shock makes no room for manners. “Because no one there has my Madrid address, Albi.” 

“No one here has it, yeah. But she asked around. Well, Olga did.” She laughs again. Her nervousness is high-pitched and easily detected. “Told Ale that she has to have her childhood best friend at her wedding.” 

“Childhood best friend?” 

“Estranged childhood best friend?” she tries, and you can hear the smile and the teasing fucking smugness in it. You wonder if anyone else knows you have been invited. Alba because your address was squeezed out of her, sure, but… “And my mother thought it was a good idea too, before you try to murder a woman you have never met.” 

“I’ve met Olga before,” you say without thinking, because that’s far easier to focus on than the idea of Eli getting involved in this completely undesired reunion that is about two centuries too early. “When I was going out with, eh, I don’t remember her name. A model. You know what they’re like. Olga’s the one who works for… thingie.” 

There’s a sigh from the other end. “So many models yet not one name has been retained. Do you even ask them?” 

“We’re not usually doing much talking.” 

“Zorra.”

“Coming from you…” You smirk at the thought of all the little secrets Alba’s had you keep, a tradition that started young and became increasingly frequent when you removed yourself from everyone else’s lives. It’s like a journal, only you judge her. “You’re doing a good job of distracting me until I agree to go.” 

She hesitates, then. You’re not an idiot and you know why she called. Alba is supportive but she has her own agenda most of the time, and no one else knows the exact time you get back from training aside from your fellow teammates. Even then, most are too intimidated to contact you in general, let alone to ask about being invited to Alexia Putellas’ fucking wedding. 

Alba is also very manipulative, a professional puppeteer. And she knows exactly what to say. “It’s been fifteen years. Are you going to let her win?” It’s an infuriating provocation but it hits its target with ease. 

…

The first step of preparing for this wedding takes place in the form of the Euros: you’re going to win it and be happy enough to ignore the impending doom hanging over your off-season plans. Going into the competition with heavy medals round your necks makes cockiness the slippiest of slopes, and it is safe to say that most of your teammates are prepared to cruise through at least the group stages. 

An unexpected injury rips Jenni’s opportunity to play from her grasp (an echo of her ex-girlfriend, you briefly think), and she is flying back to Mexico before the tournament begins. Montse is a captain down – of course only this kind of disaster could happen to her – and before Patri can even open her mouth to volunteer for the role, you are dragged into a leadership meeting.

You’ve worn the armband before, though it seared and burned and blistered until you threw it in Jorge’s face and demanded someone else absorb the hatred it brought. He went ballistic as you’d said it, you remember, his face going red in the soft glow of your hotel room the night before the World Cup final. He’d leaned forwards, fist clenched, knuckles white and wanting to choke the life out of you.

“You have no respect!” he’d roared, voice splitting like thunder against the thin walls of your hotel room. “Not for me, not for your country, not for anything!” His breath was coming out in sharp ragged gasps. He spat. You’d wiped it off your body. “I thought you had scraped all the Catalan out of you, but here it is!” he’d screamed, loud enough to be heard but so comfortable in his power that it did not seem to frighten him. “Selfish and arrogant. You should have made it Seventeen.” 

He’d left in his rage, slamming his door. 

You regretted smiling in pictures with him, shaking his hand, kissing his cheek. You regretted the press conferences and interviews, the shaky defence you had constructed, the words of faith and trust you had professed and tried to believe. It had changed you, just a little bit, that incident. Made you think about who you are, where you come from. Made you remember someone you’d tried to forget. 

But Irene and Alexia, staring at you with both contempt and confusion as you take a seat at the conference table, don’t know any of this. Why would they? To them, this is the traidora. 

“Y/n is going to take Jenni’s place as third captain,” says Montse firmly, if she even knows how to do that. Irene and Alexia share a glance. Their roles have been restored for this competition and they are not prepared for an intruder to take that from them, although Irene will later remind Alexia that it is not your fault Jenni got injured. “I trust you three will come up with a suitable management plan. If you need me, you know where to find me.” 

None of you really do know where she lurks, but she is walking off before you can clarify. 

“We already have a strategy.” And she says it in Catalan, looking falsely apologetic when she is kicked underneath the table. 

“Good job, Alexia,” you tell her, so nauseatingly saccharine that you almost think of the nearest route to a toilet. She’s surprised you’ve granted her a reply though, which is satisfying enough. About to spit out another remark to divide yourselves further, you shift in your chair, stretching out your legs underneath the table. 

It is then that her ring catches your eye.

It’s delicate, shiny. A neatly cut diamond set in platinum with slight details that tell you someone thought about Alexia when they had this made and got it all wrong. Or maybe this is what she likes now. It’s not what you’d have given her.

She sees your eyes fall to her fingers, watching carefully as your gaze heats the metal and makes it almost too hot for her to keep on. You don’t really want her to know that you’ve seen it but you��ve made it bleeding obvious and so the predicament spirals and Irene wants, desperately, to leave you two alone – she knows shouldn’t, she’s aware of the health and safety risk. 

There is something about the way Alexia clenches her jaw, posture stiffening as she allows herself one flicker from your face to the ring, that tells you she is bracing herself for a bullet. She always did have an uncanny ability to read you, however unwanted it was. 

You lean back in your chair, aware of how the bystander is holding her breath, and decide to swallow the words burning on your tongue. You’ve accepted her invitation, and bitter manners are still manners. “Congratulations,” you say, words clipped and brittle, each syllable more venomous than the last. 

The chair makes a screeching sound as you stand. Irene flinches but Alexia does not move. She refuses to watch as you walk out of the room. 

…

Three hours later, Alexia is off the phone with Olga and knocking on Irene’s door with an embarrassed suppression of urgency. Shoulders hunched and lips downturned, the sight is enough for her to be ushered inside with only the quiet flap of Irene’s arms to beckon her forwards. With this part of the training camp being not quite tunnel-vision yet, Irene’s room is littered with toys and toddler stuff. Usually Alexia would be looking at them in quiet excitement. Right now, she is not so sure. 

“Second thoughts?” Irene asks, and Alexia half-jumps backwards in shock, about to furiously shake her head and profess her love for Olga– “I think the plan is good. I don’t think we need to worry about Y/n in the centre, seeing how she’s been playing there this season.” 

It slowly dawns on Alexia that Irene has assumed this is pre-tournament nerves, and that she is being shown such a vulnerable side of her co-captain because, well, who else can be? No one wants to see their commander gulp at the sight of the battlefield. 

“She still favours her left,” Alexia gets out. “She might drift, leaving a big gap for you to cover.” 

“She’s got offers from PSG, Chelsea, and Washington Spirit. It’s in her interest not to drift.” 

“She’s good at drifting.” 

Irene doesn’t respond to that. 

“Since when did you wear your ring to training?” is what she chooses to say instead, asking the question with a healthy fear of getting her head bitten off, taking a small step backwards to put her at a safer distance. 

Alexia doesn’t reply immediately, her fingers grazing the ring as she thinks. The weight of it seems heavier now, almost suffocating in the sterile air of the hotel room, as though this is everything she’s been trying to avoid. Her heart thuds against her ribcage. It feels like everyone is starting to notice. 

“I didn’t think it was an issue.” Her voice is tight, defensive, but with a subtle, betraying crack. She pulls her hand back from the air, letting it fall to her side. “We hardly did much more than pass the ball today so I kept it on.” 

It’s a poor excuse. It comes off for the cameras, not the contact of the game. Irene knows that. But, to her credit, she doesn’t push. She just watches Alexia, eyes narrowed slightly in an unreadable expression. “I just thought you guys were keeping it a bit more… private.” 

Alexia turns her gaze to the floor, staring at the scattered toys and items around the room. The simplicity of it all, the domestic innocence, makes her feel even more tangled. She feels an urge to lie, to say that Olga asked her to, worried that you’d misinterpret its absence, but Olga doesn’t even know she has reason to lose sleep. She hasn’t found the courage to explain. She hasn’t felt the need to. 

And, really, the truth is right here, echoing between them. Irene would have pieced together the story, as many of Alexia’s teammates have, hearing drunken retellings on nights out from whoever has known the two of you the longest that time. Maybe Alba has spoken to her, revealing everything after a round of tequila shots, as she tends to do. There are a few suggestions the older woman could make to her teammate, wounds she could open and then nurse, but she doesn’t and so she waits. 

Until, finally, Alexia admits, “it’s complicated. She has caught me off-guard.” It could mean many things, but it is either your captaincy or the acceptance of her wedding invitation that has done Alexia in. She wonders whether this feeling of dread and uncertainty is the game – or the life waiting for her after she comes back from Switzerland. “Look,” she says abruptly, “I’m not here for advice, Irene.”

“Then why are you in my room?” She doesn’t have an answer for that. Irene sweeps her outside, gently but firmly. “I’m not going to tell you what to do,” she treads lightly, “but when was the last time you had a conversation with her?” 

…

The training pitch in Switzerland is unseasonably hot, the kind of heat that clings to the air and makes tempers run shorter than usual. It’s almost a cure to homesickness but then the team look at each other and are back to hating every minute of this. There’s an undeniable divide. Montse either does not care or has not caught on. 

It’s about your twentieth rondo this session, the ball zipping across the wilting grass as it touches Barça foot to Barça foot, the girls obviously enjoying this. You’re only holding back because too much investment will lead to another injury, and you are getting somewhat tired of being called a traitor. The players surround you with a ruthless efficiency that is starting to fray your nerves, and you make a note to talk to your coach about training, knowing that it will be easy to manipulate her into following something akin to what the girls at Madrid are more accustomed to. 

Alexia is one of your taunters. Of course she is. 

“Just three more interceptions,” she calls out, false strain, false support, false encouragement. 

You bite back a retort, instead standing still as Aitana rolls a ball right past you. You wipe the sweat from your brow, feigning exhaustion, but the pretense is only that in name. Everyone knows you are one of the best defenders, the Barça girls especially, with their insane pride for La Masia. 

“Lazy,” Alexia mutters. 

You don’t respond, focusing instead on the fire in your chest as you forcibly break the circle and march towards Montse. She looks up from her clipboard as you approach. 

“We should split training.” She pauses and then nods. “Attack and defence, at least. And don’t let the press hear this, but, my god, Montse, I do not like how they’re all back.” 

“We’re a stronger team,” she says, but she’s smiling and you are definitely her favourite. Another deep breath and she is calling a water break. 

The girls retreat to the sidelines for ice and hydration, and you reunite with the people you like. Your club teammates prefer you at national camp, because there is something less reclusive about you. It’s as though you’re trying to prove that you get on. 

Olga hands you a water bottle, the contents of which you guzzle down in one go. She begins to comment on the absurdity of Alexia’s mandated rondos (“why do they have to keep reminding themselves how to pass a ball?”) and while you agree, your attention is diverted. Alexia is standing a few meters away with Mariona Caldentey. She’s listening to something the forward is telling her, face focused, finger twisting her ring around in circles. 

That fucking ring. 

You look away before you are caught in such a compromising position, wiping your forehead with your damp training shirt. 

“Oye,” Misa’s voice pulls you back, “are you paying attention?” You’re not even sure when she joined the conversation. Your relationship with the goalkeeper has always been overly complicated. You work very closely, what with you commanding the backline and her… also commanding the backline. But she’s friends with people who must have at least once wished you dead, so it’s hard to tell where you stand. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” you lie, screwing the cap back onto the water bottle and placing it in Olga’s held-out palm. 

“You’re never this spacey. You’ve been off since the meeting,” she presses, her voice gentle but insistent. “If this is about the captaincy–” 

“It’s not,” you snap, harsher than what was meant. Her eyes widen slightly and you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Sorry. It’s not about that. I’m fine.” 

Misa doesn’t look convinced but she nods, letting it drop. Gratitude relaxes your shoulders but the uneasy silence that follows is punishing enough for you to be eager for training to resume. 

Now that the rondos have been left behind until tomorrow, you divide into teams for a scrimmage. The squad is split into four and you throw yourself into the exercise. Every touch, every pass, every run is perfect, and you are unrecognisable from your lackadaisical lull only ten minutes ago. You’re pushing your body and it flicks onto autopilot, driven by muscle memory and determination. 

Your head’s not in it. You can’t outrun her shadow. You can’t think when your teams are against each other. 

The ring must have come off now, and she is getting stuck in. She’s relentless and irritating, evading your teammates’ tackles and drawing you into her. It’s almost transportative: back you go to gardens after school or being barefoot on the beach, forced out of your relaxation and into an endless game of ‘tackle me like you mean it’. She has that same glint in her eye, that same goading gleam. You consider it, but crutches at a wedding is a low blow. 

And so you lay off. Just on her, and only just enough so that she knows you are not trying. You do not care for petty squabbles. You are not willing to go back to those memories, to that time. 

Or at least, that’s the message you hope she gets. 

The games slowly wind down, prompted by Montse’s whistle to signal the end of the session. You stay on the pitch longer than anyone else, taking you time to collect the stray balls scattered across the grass. It’s partly an excuse to delay walking into the locker room, where the tension will be thick (you were not the right choice for third captain in the eyes of your teammates), and partly because you need a moment to breathe. 

The others slowly disperse, peeling off to the showers or collapsing onto benches. Alexia lingers longer than most, wiping away her sweat with her shirt, abs exposed and tensed. She watches you as you move across the pitch, and though her gaze is subtle, you can feel it blazing hotter than the sun lashing down on you. But, despite her staring, she too is eventually coaxed away. You’re unsure whether she is thankful for the interruption. 

When you finally make your way to the changing rooms, most of your teammates are in the showers, and the sound of running water mingled with laughter echoes. You take a seat at the locker you were assigned and let out a slow breath, peeling off sweat-soaked socks with mild disgust. You turn to fling them into your laundry bag, but their flight path is blocked by a blonde who has clearly delayed her own shower to talk to you. 

She’s looking oddly pensive. You don’t like it. 

“We need to talk.” It’s uncomfortable for Alexia to say and it’s worse for you to hear. You’re not sure you’re okay with her decision to become reasonable and mature. It’s quite the compliment to always be the cause for stoic, rational Alexia Putellas going absolutely batshit crazy. 

Driving her up the wall is fun. 

“I’ll send you an invitation. No need to tell me which room is yours.” You give her a smile. And, like you always do, you walk away. 

…

There’s a charge to the air that is choking you by dinner time. The upgrade to captain allowed for your own room, and it is easy to blow off teammates who want to have plans with you with the simple excuse of needing to talk to your agent. You technically do, since you are going to leave Madrid during the transfer window, but you have no intention of dialling his number until he confirms the best and furthest team wants you. 

You’ve spent the evening avoiding the majority of the players, which Montse took advantage of, encouraging you to spend dinner discussing tactics with her and her staff. You feel like the teacher’s pet. You know how angry it is making Alexia.

Collapsing on the bed when you back into your room, you let out a loud groan, sinking into the mattress. Your phone buzzes on the bedside table and for a moment, you think it might be Alba, allowing you no peace and quiet despite her distance. Instead, it’s a message on the team group chat from the strength and conditioning coach about tomorrow’s gym session. A wave of relief washes over you; anything but her. 

Still, as you scroll, you catch yourself lingering on the names in the group chat, your thumb hovering near Alexia’s. Your stomach tightens and the memory of her tone, her expression, pulls at you like a tether. 

She’s not going to drop this. 

It’s no longer a matter of avoidance in the camp. You’ve said you will be present. She must want to ensure you will not make a scene. 

A knock at the door, so quiet you are almost convinced it was imagined, breaks you out of your brooding. Your eyes watch the wood as though it will be splintered in a moment, but when you make no move to get up, a more insistent knock sounds. You sigh as you pull yourself off your bed, dragging your feet towards the door. Opening it, you find Alexia standing there, arms crossed and wearing an expression you can’t quite decipher. It lacks her usual burning hatred. She looks exhausted. 

You struggle to feel any sympathy. 

“What?” you snap. It’s a bit harsher than intended but you don’t let on that that’s the case. 

“Can I come in?” You guess that she didn’t pick up the hint when you gave her no invitation. You do not want to talk. You don’t do that to people much anymore. 

She expects the door to slam in her face – and you consider it – but it’s your hesitation that tells her she can, and so she slowly moves inside, shoulder brushing yours because you refuse to move out of the way. And then she raises a deliberate hand towards the door, pushing it shut. You ignore the ring. 

You lean against the door once it’s shut, arms folded as she wanders further into your room. She looks out of place somewhere so personal to you, standing awkwardly in the centre and trying not to look at the explosion of clothes and books that has been detonated on the floor. 

She reads the titles of a few – classics that look dense and boring. Something hungry inside her dulls a bit, because you have not changed in this respect. 

“You’re quiet for someone who wants to talk,” you prompt, mostly because the silence is unbearable. 

She doesn’t respond immediately. Her arms drop to her sides, fingers twitching as if unsure what to do with themselves. She tries to meet your eyes, but falters when she sees the cold indifference staring back. You’re looking at her like she’s a stranger. It stings more than it should.

“I didn’t invite you to the wedding,” she says finally. “Olga doesn’t know about us.” 

“There’s no ‘us’,” you snap, sharper this time.

Her jaw tightens and for a second, she looks as though she’s been struck. “Don’t lie.” 

“There is no ‘us’,” you repeat, your tone icy now. “That disappeared the minute I–” 

“Left,” comes her interruption, her voice trembling just enough for you to notice. She steps closer, her shadow crossing yours, and her eyes narrow. “Which was your decision, not mine.”

You scoff, a bitter laugh escaping you. “Don’t act like you didn’t have a say in it.” 

“I didn’t!” she fires back, her voice rising. There is something raw beneath it – something fractured. “You didn’t give me one. You walked out, and you shut me out like I was nothing. Like we were nothing.” 

Her words hang in the air and for a moment, you don’t know whether to shoot or turn away. But her gaze pins you in place, fierce and unrelenting, as though daring you to deny it. 

You hold her stare, your throat tightening. “And you didn’t try to stop me.” 

The silence that follows feels deafening. Neither of you moves. Neither of you blinks. You’re both standing on landmines and have nowhere to go. 

Her jaw clenches, her hands balling into fists at her sides. Her voice, though low, crackles with the heat of restrained anger. 

“You didn’t give me a chance to stop you.” And she steps closer, ready to bite. The door presses against your back as you instinctively move away. “You made up your mind before I even knew what was happening.” 

“Don’t pretend you didn’t see it coming.” You shake your head. “I didn’t just wake up one day and decide to leave, Alexia.”

Her expression darkens, something in her eyes flickering dangerously. “That’s not the point. You didn’t just leave the club. You didn’t just leave me. You left everything. Our family. Our life. Do you have any idea what that felt like? Watching you walk away as if none of it mattered?” 

Your chest tightens but you refuse to let her words land. “You don’t get to make me the villain here.” 

“I don’t have to,” she snaps, her voice rising now, accent thickening with her anger. “You were part of my family, part of me. You were at every Christmas, every birthday. My mother adored you. Alba still loves you like you are her own sister! And you just disappeared like none of it meant anything. Like we didn’t mean anything.”

You flinch at the weight of her words but force yourself into steadiness. “I didn’t belong there. It wasn’t mine, it was yours.” 

Her face twists in disbelief, voice trembling as it rises again. “That’s bullshit and you know it! You were my family. My first everything. My first kiss. My first…” She pauses, her voice cracking. You swallow hard – you don’t want the fucking itemised list. “My first time. You think I just gave that to anyone? You think that it was just fun and games?” 

Your stomach churns as she stokes a fire you’ve tried to smother for years. “It wasn’t nothing,” you agree, although it sounds like you are contradicting her in a way that causes her to falter on her drive forwards. “It was everything. That’s why I left. Because I couldn’t be what was needed anymore. Because I knew if I stayed, I’d only–” 

“Only what?” 

You gulp. 

She’s back in your face, voice laced with venom. “Hurt me? Ruin me? Let us all done? Guess what, you did that anyway. Leaving made it easier? Made it hurt less?” 

“I didn’t know what else to do!” you shout, voice splitting. 

“You stay!” It echoes and it bruises your skin. Her eyes are blazing now, tears threatening to spill but held back by sheer force of will. “You stay, because that is what you do when you love someone. When you love a family. You don’t just walk away from them. You fight.” 

You open your mouth to respond, but the words stick in your throat, caught somewhere between guilt and pride. She sees it and it only seems to enrage her further. 

Her voice drops, anger so torrid she has to purposely cool her tone. “You know, I thought that my world was ending then. I thought you’d done your worst. But I was wrong. Because your betrayal wasn’t just personal, it was… political. To not see someone you love except for when they are sitting at the feet of this. Corruption’s pet. Pandering to an organisation you hated, while the rest of us fought for scraps.” 

Heat rises in your chest. How dare she– “I don’t pander to anyone.” 

“Don’t lie to me,” she spits. She’s too close. She’s too inescapable. And her anger is no longer fiery but icy, piercing through your skin. “I’ve seen the way you act around them, bowing your head and playing the loyal soldier while they tear us apart. You think I didn’t notice how he favoured you? Or how Montse magically replaces an irreplaceable member of–” 

“It’s not like that,” you counter, but the words feel hollow even to you.

“Then what is it?” she demands. “What is it that makes you stand there and let them walk all over us? Let them divide us? And don’t you dare say it is for the good of the team. The team hates you for it. We all do. You’ve earned every bit of it, traidora.” 

The word hits you like a whip, lacerating and making you bleed. Your hands curl into fists so tightly your nails dig into your palms, the sting barely enough to contain the fury surging through you. “Don’t you dare call me that!” The sentence tears out of your throat, rough and jagged. You take a step forwards, the air between you crackling with tension, your voice breaking as you spit, “you don’t get to say that to me. Not you.”

“Why not?” she challenges. “It’s what you are. You left, you betrayed everything we stood for, and then you came back just to make things worse. You made your choices.”

For a moment, all you can do is stare at her, the anger and heartbreak in her eyes, eviscerating and leaving you hollow. But then, something shifts in the air between you, and you find your voice again, souring from before.

“Is that why you’re here, Alexia? To throw all of this in my face? To let out fifteen years of harboured emotion? Or is it something else?” 

Her brow furrows in confusion. Surprise. And then her expression twists into anger. “What the fuck are you talking about?” 

You take a step forward now, and she is forced to retreat. “Do you not want to marry Olga, Alexia? Is that it? Is that why you’re here? Because you think you can come into my room, dredge all of this up, and make me the reason you’re unhappy?” 

Her face pales as she takes a deep breath, hands trembling at her sides. “Don’t,” she warns, firmly enough to signal you need to push.

So you do. 

“You came here because you’re scared.” She shakes her head but it’s rigid and forced. “Because you’re not sure you can go through with it and you want me to give you a reason to back out. Well, I’m not going to do that for you. This isn’t my mess. It’s yours.”

She says nothing and you feel sick. Her chest rises and falls with each gasping breath. She opens her mouth but again, you are left with silence, and the expression in her eyes flickers between defiance, confusion, and vulnerability. For a long moment, it feels like everything that could be said has been. 

The air between you is charged, but neither of you know which way it will go. 

You stare at her watching her waver. And it hits you: she doesn’t know what to do. 

All of this, all the anger and the pain, all the accusations and betrayals, has led her here, to this moment. She thought she had an answer, she thought she would be able to end this, but now? Now, Alexia is lost. There is too much here, too much to lose. And for the first time in a long while, you are feeling the same thing. You are both no longer sure if you want to fight. 

She takes a hesitant step closer and you freeze. But then, just as quickly, her hand moves – not to strike, not to harm, but to touch you. Her fingers brush lightly over the fabric of your sleeve, almost tenderly, before they fall away, and you don’t know if the motion was meant for comfort or something else.

Her breath is ragged, coming in slow, uneven gasps. Her eyes never leave yours. You don’t want them to. 

“I don’t know what to do with all of this,” she murmurs, the rawness in her tone shattering any remaining wall between you. “I don’t know what to do with you.”

How do you respond to that? You want her to leave but the thought is unbearable. You want space but she is not close enough. Something inside you stirs, something you can’t fight; a need to understand her and make her understand you. To make her see how tangled this, how impossible it has always been. 

Before you can form the word, before you can even think, she moves in closer, and there is no longer distance. She doesn’t ask for permission. She doesn’t hesitate. And then, without warning, her lips are on yours. 

It’s soft, tentative at first, as though testing the waters of something neither of you is sure of anymore. But then it shifts. Her body leans into yours, and the kiss deepens, more urgent now, as if this is everything that has not been said and has been at the same time. Your heart races, a million conflicting emotions crashing through you. Anger, betrayal, love – it is all here, you can taste it on her lips. It’s fierce, desperate, and it feels like an endless cycle of need and regret, pulling you both back to something raw, something irretrievable. 

Her hands find your waist, gripping tightly as though anchoring herself to something that could pull her under. You instinctively respond, pulling her closer, drawing in the heat of her touch, the scent of her skin, the pressure of her body against yours. For a fleeting second, everything else fades away. There’s no past, no future, only here and now. 

And then the fog clears. 

You pull back, breathless and worse off. You’ve fucked up again. Alexia is crying. 

“I’m not the person you think I am anymore,” you say, but it’s hard to meet her gaze. “I can’t be that person for you.”

Her eyes search yours desperately for lies, for deceit. She wants it to be wrong. She doesn’t know why. And she replies, “I don’t care what you think you’ve become,” because she doesn’t. It doesn’t matter to her.

You stare at her, heart pounding, and you want to feel like this will be worth it, but nothing comes except cold emptiness. You force yourself to stay upright. “I think the wedding will be good.” She swallows. “You’ll be happy with Olga. I’m sure of it.” 

It’s a death sentence. 

This time, it is Alexia who leaves. 

…

The wedding is beautiful. Blissful sunlight makes the venue seem to glow and it is hard not to be impressed with how they have set this up. 

The model at your side is also beautiful, but you remind yourself it is not a competition. You focus on the whispers of anticipation from the guests, the rustle of the dresses as people pass in merry groups, clinking their glasses and finishing their champagne as they take their seats. Everything looks perfect, plucked from magazines and tasteful brochures. This must be what Alexia wanted. 

Your date is occupying herself in conversation with the man seated next to you, who might be hitting on her, though you don’t care. She slides a hand over your thigh anyway. 

The ceremony begins, although you’re not really concentrating on it. You try to focus, listening as the officiant speaks, but the words have become a dull hum. It’s all so rehearsed, so expected, and it’s boring. You won’t be getting married anytime soon, that’s for sure. 

You know the flow of these things: the vows, the promises, the kiss, and the crowd’s applause. It’s a performance, though it’s not quite a farce. 

And then, it comes. The moment. The one that feels like a trap. 

The officiant pauses, glancing out over the gathering. “Si algú s'hi oposa, que parli ara o calli per sempre.”

For a heartbeat, time slows. The air thickens. Every muscle in your body tenses and the world around you goes still. You catch yourself holding your breath, gaze instinctively shifting to the woman standing at the front of the altar. 

Alexia. 

Her eyes flicker briefly in your direction – just a flicker, but it’s there, unmistakable. It’s her moment of hesitation, well masked but clear as day to you. But before you can make sense of it, she’s looking away, eyes fixed back onto Olga. Her expression hardens, more composed now, and you know that you are not going to break this silence. 

The officiant, oblivious to the storm passing between you both, waits for a beat longer before continuing, his voice echoing in the silence. 

And she’s married. 

You breathe out a sigh of relief. It’s over now. You’ve let her win. 

[void-speaks]

🌧"Hm, we don't really have those kind of luxuries nor the necessity for them, so I just dive head in even if its pouring. I do enjoy rain quite a lot. It's refreshing."

🍳"Well, I'm not exactly the best, but I do know how to make the most basic of things. Sigh, I do wish I had the chance to learn how to cook something more cool and interesting, but oh well. Oh, surprisingly enough, I do. I used to hate any and all kind of chores before, but now it's just something you can shut off your mind for and do on autopilot. Mmm, probabaly omelets. No particular reasons, I just think it's neat."

🧼"It's not like we get much of a choice. In this economy, we shower whenever we can. I do enjoy showering, but I haven't gotten many chances to bathe before, so I can't really tell anything. Again, it's a miracle if we find gel in this situation."

❌️"Obviously I would. It does depend on who is telling me what, but just in general, I would. Hmm... Probabaly Crane. He's seen some shit and has a good base of knowledge about the world, more than me and Aiden have."

🏳️‍"Well, it's hard to say right now. I can't really imagine anything that would make me give up, but there's probabaly something. Like, maybe if I was in complete despair? I don't know, hard to say."

📖"Gosh, don't even get me started on books! I really, really love books. I've always loved reading books even as a child. I mostly favored fantasy and detective novels and sometimes romance I suppose. Queer romance specifically because. Well. Guess. I wouldn't say I have a lot of opportunities to read in that sense that new books that I haven't read are a rare thing to find right now."

⛸️"I'm not... too into sports, to be fair. Would parkour count as a sport? Probabaly not right now. Hm... I guess Carnage Hall fights would be considered a sport? In that case, I don't really follow that stuff at all."

😷"I have an average immune system, so I don't get sick too much. Well, 'staying at home' right now isn't exactly an option, however, when I get sick, I tend to not overwhelm myself with chores, but don't stay in bed all day either. Well, medical masks are surprisingly hard to find, and just regular clothing pieces won't do much, so I tend to stay away from people or be very careful around them."

🥼"No, I don't. Hm, what kind of uniform... To be fair, and don't quote me on this, but Renegade uniform looks sick as Hell."

🥂"Huh, I never really thought about it. I guess I just pat myself on the back or don't really acknowledge them at all."

🛴"Parkour. It's probabaly impossible to get around on a bike in this environment, but it would be nice if I could. Traffic rules aren't really a thing right now, so eh."

🕰"Hm... Now that I think about it, we don't do that too much? Or I suppose we just use the sun as our guide most of the time. Or Peacekeeper sirens or church bells if it's in Old Villedor."

🥰"There's many things that can make me... Well, not happy, but bring some kind of positive feelings for sure. As for loved... I don't know how to answer that."

🐇"I don't. I prefer to live in the now and here. Believing in this kind of thing would be an escapism method for me, and I prefer not to do that."

🎺"I'm getting tired of saying it, but there's not much choice we have nowadays. I'm starting to sound like my grandma... I think. But, if I had to chose from all the songs I know, my current choice would be that tape that Aiden showed me recently. I don't know its name, but it goes like... 'Some people cheat, some people sin, but ohhhhh I play to win, tu-tu-tu-tu-tu-tu-u-u-u-u-u,' and so on. Sorry, I'm not the best singer. Mm, no, not really. Never had a chance to learn. Probabaly the violin. I heard it's a difficult instrument, which is one of the things that intrigues me about it."

💽"Yes! I like collecting books, newspapers from the 'old times,' audio tapes and stuff like that. Really to collect information. But especially books. There isn't a particular reason, I just enjoy doing it. Or I suppose the reason would be that I want to know as much as possible about Villedor and its life and how life was for other people in the hot of the apocalypse."

🧋"Tea. By God how much I love tea. Especially black tea with thyme. I can't even explain it, I just do. My second top tea is from a specific brand, but it's also black tea with apple and... and some other berry. I don't know its name in English. Oh, that entirely depends on the season and how I'm feeling. But generally, I lean more towards warm or hot drinks."

🌻 random in-character questions

an ask game where, instead of replying from your perspective, you answer as if it's your original character/muse/self-insert/etc. answering the question ✨

🌧️ "When outside during the rain, do you use a raincoat, an umbrella, or something else? Do you enjoy rain?"

🍳 "Are you a good cook? Do you enjoy cooking? What's your favorite thing to cook?"

🧼 "Do you prefer to take a shower during the morning or evening? Do you like taking baths? What's your favorite scent of shower gel?"

❌ "Would you do something that someone told you not to do? Why? Is there someone you'd actually listen to more than everyone else?"

🏳️ "What will make you give up?"

📖 "What kinds of books do you read? Do you have a lot of time to read?"

⛸️ "What's your favorite kind of sport? Do you follow sports closely or don't care at all?"

😷 "How often do you get sick? Do you stay at home when sick or do you end up going outside to, say, get some groceries? If you go outside, would you wear a mask?"

🥼 "Do you have to wear a uniform somewhere? If yes, how do you feel about it? If no, what kind of uniform would you love to wear?"

🥂 "How do you celebrate you accomplishments?"

🛴 "What's your preferred way of getting somewhere - own car, public transport, a bicycle, or something else? How well do you follow the traffic rules?"

🕰️ "What do you use to check what time it is?"

🥰 "What would make you feel happy and loved?"

🐇 "Do you believe in other dimensions?"

🎺 "What kind of music do you mostly listen to? Do you know how to play an instrument, and if not, which one would you want to learn to play?"

💽 "Do you collect anything? Why?"

🧋 "What's your go-to thing to drink? Do you prefer cold or hot drinks?"

[clourey]

kaiser detests the conundrum that has been created of his emotions.

he wants nothing more than to celebrate his team’s victory — his victory — with you. he yearns for your praise, for your kisses, yet he’s not next to you like he should be.

instead, he has found rest in a lonesome corner, keenly observing you from afar.

you laugh heartily, so engaged in your conversations with the others. actually— if kaiser were to put it more accurately, you not only engaged in the idle chatter, you indulged in it.

and it is at rare instances such as this, that kaiser begins to doubt himself. it’s almost as if he set tests for you, to gauge how much he means to you. he needs to know if you’d keep choosing him, even if he pushes you away.

so when you finally approach him, he (subtly) rejects it. he’s petty, but also equally as driven.

“regrettably, liebling,” kaiser waves his phone at you, which seems to have manifested from thin air, “i’m expecting an important call soon, why don’t you hang out with.. ness? you’ve been talking to him a lot.”

you mouth an “oh,” making quick sense of the situation.

you may not necessarily be the most perceptive person in the room, however, you’re confident in you ability to discern kaiser’s behaviour and what it means.

“you know, love,” you start, ever so discreet, “ness suggested that i spend some time with you.”

there, his brow twitched, “yeah? he wants you to spend time with you now that he’s, what, feeling guilty about taking you up to himself the entire night?”

make no mistake, kaiser is not one to be trigged easily—

“you sound mad,” you press.

“can a man not be appalled?” kaiser quickly retorts, scoffing as he crosses his arms. to hell with keeping these annoying feelings to myself.

—unless it’s you. yes, you always draw out the rawest of emotions that lay waiting in his heart.

“ness was talking to you like you’re his girlfriend, and you didn’t bother reminding him that you’re taken,” his eyes narrow, and his forehead creases, “or maybe you forgot that too, huh?”

your stupid giggles answer him, and he sighs defeatedly.

his attempt at nonchalance that was so effortlessly dislodged and replace with a tirade, was tantamount to entertainment for you. infuriating.

“you could at least tell me this, then,” kaiser clutches your wrist, pulling you closer, “am i your first choice?”

he already knows how you’ll respond by the time your hands reach to cup his cheeks, your utterances of love never failing to reassure him.

[a-d-nox]

mc persona chart observations

@yoursaintvalentine i don't really get what happened to your ask it wouldn't let me type and answer it - so i am just going to tag you! hope you enjoy!!

💼 1h gemini (3°, 15°, 27°) and/or mercury people excel at expressing themselves, whether through writing, speaking, etc. their wit and humor often make them seem "engaging" to others.

💼 1h gemini (3°, 15°, 27°) and/or mercury people often struggle with indecisiveness when it comes to committing to a single career path.

💼 1h gemini (3°, 15°, 27°) and/or mercury people come across as articulate, clever, and approachable in their professional or public life. communication is one of their most valuable tools for building their career and public reputation.

💼 1h gemini (3°, 15°, 27°) and/or mercury people are excellent at networking, solving problems, and thriving in complex working environments.

💼 1h gemini (3°, 15°, 27°) and/or mercury people excel in roles that require persuasion, teaching, and/or public speaking. their ideas often have a significant impact on their career. they naturally gravitate toward professions that involve communication, media, marketing, and/or education.

💼 1h scorpio (8°, 20°) and/or pluto people draw others to them, even if they’re not overtly seeking attention. its usually because of their aura of emotional intensity and general vibe of knowing all.

💼 1h scorpio (8°, 20°) and/or pluto people have the air of a natural leader, so people are likely to approach them as though they are in charge even when they are not. however, during a crises they are highly adaptable and resilient - they are the best choice for leading a group.

💼 1h scorpio (8°, 20°) and/or pluto people are deeply committed to their ambitions; when they set their mind on a goal, they pursue it with focus and resilience. obstacles only serve to fuel their determination - they achieve what they set out to do.

💼 1h scorpio (8°, 20°) and/or pluto people have difficulty trusting others or delegating responsibilities in professional settings.

💼 1h ruler in 1h often indicates others seeing them as a natural leader who is comfortable being in the spotlight.

💼 1h ruler in 1h indicates taking initiative in life. challenges are met head-on; they prefer to carve their own path rather than follow others.

💼 1h ruler in 11h people often like to be part of a group / surrounded by like-minded individuals. they may not be as productive alone as they are when around others.

💼 1h ruler in 11h people may naturally take on a leadership or prominent role in group settings. they often feel a sense of responsibility to organize / inspire collective efforts.

💼 1h ruler in 11h people's success often comes through collaboration, networking, and/or connecting with people who share their vision.

💼 aries (1°, 13°, 25°) mercury people's confidence is a strength, though they might occasionally speak without thinking things through, leading to misunderstandings and/or conflicts.

💼 aries (1°, 13°, 25°) mercury people's careers might involve starting something from scratch, whether it’s a business, initiative, and/or creative endeavor.

💼 aries (1°, 13°, 25°) mercury people are quick wits with sharp communication skills making them a formidable presence in professional debates/discussions. they make good defensive lawyers and/or politicians.

💼 sagittarius (9°, 21°) mercury people pursue careers or roles where they can continually learn and share knowledge. teaching, writing, public speaking, and/or mentoring are natural fits.

💼 sagittarius (9°, 21°) mercury people might struggle with sticking to one career path; they crave variety, exploration, and freedom. which often leads to frequent shifts or expansions in their professional life.

💼 sagittarius (9°, 21°) mercury people often spread themselves too thin because they pursue "too many" interests.

💼 mercury-pluto aspects often indicate their communication style being compelling and often holds a certain intensity that draws people in. they speak with authority - others are likely to feel that their words carry weight, even if when they don’t say much.

💼 people with mercury-pluto aspects are natural investigators, researchers, and/or strategists.

💼 mercury-pluto people have the uncanny ability to perceive the underlying motivations / hidden truths in situations; they are adept at reading people and understanding what’s really going on beneath the surface. they make great psychologists.

💼 asc positively aspecting nn people have the ability to attract people and opportunities that support their growth.

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[protectorcraft]

mutual liked the gripe post which reminded me to write it. okay hi im pyxis and im gonna talk about a trope the isat community falls back on a lot in writing that bugs me okay thanks

this is gonna be long and probably annoying so im putting it under a cut. open at ur own risk. heavy spoiler warning thanks.

okay. how do i start this. a thing ive seen in quite a few fics and theories, and its that the islanders are directly- and purposefully- responsible for their own disappearance. usually i see it framed as "the islanders made themselves disappear/attempted to wish away knowledge of wishcraft because it was dangerous" and like. hm! i dont think so.

take this with a grain of salt as ur local cracker but considering the framing of the island's disappearance- abrupt, sudden, disastrous- something everyone was talking about- the disappearance definitely falls more in line with the metaphor of some sort of disaster or, as is a significant theme in the game, colonialism/imperialism and the subjugation of cultures.

this was- 100%- not the islander's faults, and blaming them completely misses the point of the matter.

while people can say wishcraft is dangerous- and really, it is, there's no getting around it- it also seems like it was an important piece of the Island's culture and based off the few islanders we meet, probably used fairly regularly in day to day life. siffrin, for example, literally uses it on the regular without even realizing it. the knowledge of how to do it properly is probably pretty ingrained into the average Islander's brain. to them, it's just a fact of life! i mean, literally all the scriptures we see on wishcraft (and astronomy) ingame are written in the Islander language. they were The Experts on this stuff. (not to mention that this proves the knowledge was in the general public's grasp, even if it required knowledge of their language to learn about)

so it just doesnt make sense that they'd wish something so important to them away like that- sure there was probably discourse amongst them about the dangers of these practices, but they would know enough to know attempt something as risky as, say, wishing away all knowledge of their country or any one big thing. not to mention wishcraft is weird- technically speaking, siffrin's wish probably wouldve had a lot less effect if all the energy of the failed wishes hadnt culminated into their successful one.

and before you bring up how op the kings wish is- remember that a good 75% of the game is exposing all the ways the other characters foil siffrin, including the king. the king, who supposedly made a wish to freeze vaugarde- but did he?

a lot of the king's dialogue, when he isnt gushing about vaugarde and how much he loves it, is about his grief surrounding the loss of his own country. when given the chance, he'll grasp at any opportunity to remember anything about it, even if its putting trust in the hands of a stranger who is literally here to kill him for help. its pretty clear to anyone with a brain that he's not being ingenuine about this.

and, see, siffrin's true wish was masked over by their other wish. its one of the game's big red herrings. yadda yadda yadda how do we know that the king's true wish was really the "preserve" vaugarde, huh?

"where are you going with this we've gotten wildly off track" no we havent! get fucked! i think the kings true wish was the remember his country- and, yknow, there's probably a fair few islanders remaining. probably yearning to grasp even a fragment of their lost culture, hoping and dreaming and wishing for answers. not unlike the king, perhaps? perhaps a culmination of half baked wishes being fueled by one, fully formed wish?

yeah, you get where im going with this.

so perhaps wishcraft isnt quite as strong as we assume it is? that the soul intent of one person isn't necessarily going to give you godlike power in most cases- mind we're not quite grasping the full scope due to loops. Whole Situation. but that's not why we're here.

if the Islanders had enough faith in the rest of the world to provide them with their wishcraft knowledge- then i doubt they wouldve wished themselves or their knowledge away. nobody would do that.

and if the rest of the world did, indeed, have access to that knowledge, then there's a fair chance some other group could be responsible. a group who doesnt even recall their own responsibility because it's been wiped from their memories.

like, idk.... a more on the nose version how colonizer countries bury their own history of misdeeds from the general populace?

idk man. idk. just feels weird to me that so many people seem to have immediately gone towards the Cultural Suicide route for some reason. you have to be willing to acknowledge that the isat universe is definitely not the perfect, pristine world you think it is. and maybe folks just need to be willing to acknowledge the actual brutality the metaphor is alluding to.

after all, an entire island- all of its peoples and cultures- disappeared.

[lifenconcepts]

1/ Which category of alterhumanity do you belong to?

Hm. Just the umbrella term I prefer but perhaps otherkin in the sense of being some strange conceptkin and Divinekin who calls themselves angelkin over being this sensation of life and fate and existence as a whole.. I’m like- life. Just life. Life-kin, can I just say I’m me? I’m everything. Aaaaughehejjd also wolf therian. Beat me over that but also sometimes caninekin and like .. feeling like dogs depending on whatever mood I’m in and copinglink of a borzoi 💯

2/ What/who is/are your type(s)? sort of answered it in the above but I love lists. From highest relation to least (I vary quite often, and mostly am okay with being human except for a few rare instances and exceptions): Life and existence as a whole, wolf, a mutt/random canine, and.. some muskrat 😿 I love them but how the hell am I litterally a muskrat- OH AND I HAVE HUMAN PAST LIVES but I’m still confused over them. Like, some random guy with a car who loves the nighttime and was treated like shit, uhh.. about 80s/90s and in his 20s- maybe USA or UK, also USSR but not sure if it’s the same guy. Also a butler or someone of the sorts in another, just having a bunch of various strange jobs (or maybe it’s who I want to be.. idk I always struggle with knowing what’s my subconscious or what’s my soul)

3/ Do you experience shifts? If so, can you tell us your most common shifts and your strangest cameo shift (if you've ever had a cameo shift)?

Hm. Mostly mental shifts or something and the vague feeling of being a wolf but have had tail, ear, paw, and full body shifts. Also wings but they’re like random and in no way related to any identity.

4/ How do you experience your alterhumanity in everyday life?

Hm. I forget. Aha forgot- auh just being more understanding to those also like me and more connected to nature on an animalistic level and validating myself in my unusual-ness? Also sometimes craving the simple regressive state of being incoherent but understood, of being one with sensations and instincts but perceived by humans.. hehejdkjdhdhd

5/ What do you think of the community?

very nice! Also very sweet! Understanding of plenty, especially tumblr, but others may be more misinformed and rude elsewhere.. anyways just very sweet, good movement if I can call it that, it’s gained popularity definefely and for the better.

6/ What are the things that make you most comfortable and euphoric in your alterhumanity?

watching documentaries on canines, documentaries on ussr (don’t ask), forests and nature as an absolute whole (especially woodlands), and dog training videos. Fascinates me. Also being seen as a wolf. I used to go around telling people to call me Wolfy as a kid.

7/ Are you experiencing species dysphoria?

nope! Not really, and I find that great :)

8/ What advice would you like to say to a young alterhuman who has just awakened?

trust your instinct and this vague feeling of feeling ‘right’ rather than any set of rules or expectations.

9/ Do you have/want to have gears?

eueuhsgghhwcomplex question. Next! Aha kidding but like.. I want metal claws, and pretty metal gloves over my hand. Whatever that is. Hm perhaps also a wolf mask? Mm.. I don’t really like gear though, too ‘out there’ for me. I got a tail and paws and ears tho, but REALLY want wings— also kinda fucked up I don’t glow. Would drink glow sticks to glow- aha kidding.. unless-

10/ Do you know/have any theories about the origin of your alterhumanity? If so, tell us! (all beliefs are legitimate)

mine specifically? .. evolved from thinking wolves are mad cool then seemingly wanting to be a werewolf then really thinking I could become one (with my varying degrees of wolfness and humanness) then finding splice with being seen as a canine or with one, and turned quickly to ‘yeah I’m a person but being a dog or wolf would be so damn cool’ and searching immensely on caves near me with the idea I would go exploring and find a genie and wish to be a shapeshifter and then live in the forest and convince others I was human then in the privacy of my own presence embrace my instincts and dreams of being a canine and now it’s just. Confusion mixed in with ‘was I faking it??’ feeling and some sense of ‘but i like being human’ even with that same nagging feeling of sometimes just needing to be a dog for a bit to feel content in my skin and maybe it’s something leftover with my soul’s past life that I’ve gotten over or now transformed from being a childhood dream to merely related to the emotional state of freedom and being understood even with my strange behaviours and appearance that likely had been formed through having a nagging sense of not being understood enough even with being genuinely spoilt but trying to convince myself that nobody cared so I could excuse myself if I ever turned to drugs but then just finding ways to love and understand myself and finally realising that I am loved but sometimes my thoughts just aren’t understood because others have different views and then vowing to do my best to understand others and especially folklore creatures even after I- oh, have I went off script a tiny bit? Im wolf enough.

11/ Tag someone/a creature to answer these questions!ㅤᵕ̈

oh I’m an addict for answering this, thank you so much for tagging me! But.. I don’t know who to tag.. anyone who sees this! Perhaps @canines-crown ??

If you are a alterhuman, reblog and answer these questions!

(don't be afraid to write a lot, do what you want ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯)

1/ Which category of alterhumanity do you belong to?

2/ What/who is/are your type(s)? (if you have any)

3/ Do you experience shifts? If so, can you tell us your most common shifts and your strangest cameo shift (if you've ever had a cameo shift)?

4/ How do you experience your alterhumanity in everyday life?

5/ What do you think of the community?

6/ What are the things that make you most comfortable and euphoric in your alterhumanity?

7/ Are you experiencing species dysphoria?

8/ What advice would you like to say to a young alterhuman who has just awakened?

9/ Do you have/want to have gears?

10/ Do you know/have any theories about the origin of your alterhumanity? If so, tell us! (all beliefs are legitimate)

11/ Tag someone/a creature to answer these questions!ㅤᵕ̈

[abberant-butler]

Will you miss me?

WC: 583, Barbatos/MC TW: death mention, kind of. time bendy answers.

____________________________________________________

There's been a sort of resignation in Barbatos' attitude ever since your relationship turned to the more romantic sort. Not an offensive resignation, nor a dismissive resignation- simply the feeling that something between you is… inevitable. That your whimsey and your sorrow are both what confuse Barbatos the most, and yet make him even more enamored with you.

His patience sometimes seems endless, and even when you find a button to press on him, his irritation only lasts a few fleeting moments. Sometimes that's more infuriating than his passivity, but his learning of humans and his steadiness are as much a part of your affection for him as your impulsiveness and hard head are to him.

It's just… those quiet moments. Years into what has become comfortable, and second nature. The little lingering things that whisper to the back of your tongue, and make you ask questions you know you don't really want the answers to.

"… Barb?"

Even now it's as if he knows that such a question is coming. "Darling?"

"… … Will you miss me? You know. When I'm. … Gone for good?"

His thumb trails up to rub gently back and forth on the base of your neck, and there's clearly a debate going on in his head before he leans in to kiss you softly. "Is this something you would like an answer to, or simply comfort?"

It's your chance to give up the question, or rephrase it, or just pull him closer in the bed and go back to sleep. Still. It's been on your mind for the better part of a decade. Might as well try to settle it.

"An answer, I think. … Maybe… a little bit of comfort, too."

"I already miss you, my dear. Yet I am ever happy to spend each day with you in your perception of linear time. It's like… Trying to focus on a single line, when everything is still happening all around it. I've quite a bit of practice doing it, but with you… it's even more difficult. I try not to look at the timelines where something bad happens, or the lines where things I want happen, instead of things that you want." Why you thought there might be an easy answer to this, you're not sure.

"I have already seen you go, and watched others grieve for you. I have already steadied my own grief by living in memories with you- memories which are just moments of the past repeating themselves again. Time, for me, isn't the same. In some ways it gives me great power, and in others… great pain. For you, it is exactly when you think it is, and we are exactly where you think we are. That's the only important part. I am in your arms, and you are in my bed, and I am as happy as I hope you are." He takes a deep breath, and then leans to kiss your eyelids. "You are never truly gone from me, not in the same way as those who have left are gone from you. … But I will miss you, yes. In a way that is my own."

Sliding your legs to intertwine them with his, you try to make sense of it. It's all a little strange. The theories of times and alternate lives and past and present. In the end you just silently agree that he's right. The only important part is that to you, you're here, with him, and someday, he will miss you.

[mollywog]

Oooh tell me how what you find interesting about the “I don’t know how you survived this long” line from Peeta. Now that I think about it’s so interesting to me that Peeta thinks lying is a necessity for surviving, and actually says a lot about how he was raised?

Ooo thank you for the ask @mage-chocolate!!

"You're such a bad liar, Katniss. I don't know how you've survived this long." He begins to mimic me. "I knew that goat would be a little gold mine. You're a little cooler though. Of course, I'm not going." He shakes his head. "Never gamble at cards. You'll lose your last coin," he says.

Three different levels here: Living in Panem in general, surviving the Games, Peeta’s home life (this is more HC stuff)

In Panem

You’d expect Katniss would need to be a good liar with all her illegal activities, but fortunately she’s recognized this and has found other ways to stay out of trouble:

When I was younger, I scared my mother to death, the things I would blurt out about District 12, about the people who rule our country, Panem, from the far-off city called the Capitol. Eventually I understood this would only lead us to more trouble. So I learned to hold my tongue and to turn my features into an indifferent mask so that no one could ever read my thoughts. Do my work quietly in school. Make only polite small talk in the public mar-ket. Discuss little more than trades in the Hob, which is the black market where I make most of my money. Even at home, where I am less pleasant, I avoid discussing tricky topics. Like the reaping, or food shortages, or the Hunger Games. Prim might begin to repeat my words and then where would we be?

Not to mention, she says the peacekeepers are among her best customers (don’t execute bite the hand that feeds.)

In the games

Let me start with a kudos to @cutpaperbleedswater for their point from this ask

The idea of putting on a facade and pretending to be something for the sake of strategy is everywhere- from Katniss slipping her mask of indifference on and not crying as soon as she volunteers to her interview prep struggles:

"All right, enough," he says. "We've got to find another angle. Not only are you hostile, I don't know anything about you. I've asked you fifty questions and still have no sense of your life, your family, what you care about. They want to know about you, Katniss."

"But I don't want them to! They're already taking my future! They can't have the things that mattered to me in the past!" I say.

"Then lie! Make something up!" says Haymitch.

"I'm not good at lying," I say.

"Well, you better learn fast. You've got about as much charm as a dead slug," says Haymitch.

…

By the end of the session, I am no one at all. Haymitch started drinking somewhere around witty, and a nasty edge has crept into his voice. "I give up, sweetheart. Just answer the questions and try not to let the audience see how openly you despise them."

I’m also thinking about Katniss hiding her tears over Thresh’s death because it won’t play well for sponsors.

In Peeta’s home life

We know Peeta’s mother physically and verbally assaults him at least once in the past and it’s suggested it wasn’t a one-off occurrence.

So moving into the stuff of HCs: I imagine that Mrs. Mellark is sort of unpredictable - that she can be loving and charming (Peeta’s charm comes from somewhere and Mr. Mellark is often described as quiet), but she can also turn on a dime. And as a result the family walks on egg shells and Peeta, from a young age becomes accurately perceptive of moods (and then by extension others’), and learns to anticipate reactions and lie convincingly - skills he applies beyond just his home life.

[olderthannetfic]

I feel like you're constantly sent 'HOW DO I RATE' asks so i apologize in the past, but i have a question about E vs M (vs maybe even T? Def not G though) that I haven't been able to google/look on ao3 reddit for and find good accurate answers.

My current main kink is temperature play, and most of the fics that I write for it DO have explicit sex. However Im currently working on a prompt where there is no sex whatsoever, they're fully clothed, and then in their underwear, as they alternate between playing with hot wax vs ice, but in regards to actual sex, nothing hornier than making out and neck/chest hickies happen (though they do remove each other's outerwear).

The last scene is a fade to black scene when they strip and are heavily HEAVILY implied to engage in actual sex, but really it's 10k word of foreplay alternating between hotplay vs coldplay (not the band)

And it's very erotic to anyone who has the same kink to me, but no explicit sex acts, nor even really any explicit genitalia, is ever described, it's mostly just...emotional, I guess, or focused on how the hot/cold substances feel on the bare skin. Which again is def quite erotic, but typical erotic language isn't used, if that makes sense.

It's def written as jerk off content for anyone with the kink but technically the actual 'language' used is SFW and would likely just be...idk, flowery, to anyone who reads it for vanilla reasons.

I know i could just mark it is as not rated, but assuming I want to rate it, what's the best label in this type of situation?

--

Mature.

There's no explicit sex, so not E, but you mean it in a horny way, so not a low rating.

[the-iron-queen]

So. Listen.

What this scene gave to me is that what happened totally ran out of Bison's control.

At first glance, yes, it makes sense that someone threatened to be shot will take their chances by jumping into the water. However.

Bison knows Kant as someone who always has an answer to everything, even if half of them are lies.

Bison at least somewhat knows Kant as an instinctual survivor, even if Kant doesn't directly show that side of himself to Bison.

Bison is at this point very sure he knows how Kant will react in a given moment, simply because his knee-jerk mode is always the same. He always has an answer, he always tries to appease, he will in any case reassure Bison of his own feelings for him, no matter the situation.

So all of this put together, for Bison it was 100% to be expected that Kant would reassure him, and even more important react to him beyond a "please calm down".

I know people have slightly different interpretations of why Kant was checked out so hard, so I am going on my own interpretation here. I know from personal experience what having a deep-sitting trauma being triggered feels like - and i don't even know how bad it must be with flashbacks triggered, which Kant seemed to experience as well. To me, that's what I saw happening with Kant. His mind was so consumed by his trauma and fear at that moment that he wasn't able to deal with Bison, or the gun, or the questions.

And while Bison probably used his knowledge of Kant generally being afraid of the ocean to put more pressure on him while holding him at gunpoint and questioning him, he pretty sure didn't expect to have the situation go out of hand so easily. Overall he set the situation up to be able so that he would be able to interrogate Kant (even if it was only about his feelings, but he might have pressed for motives etc if he actually had gotten any answers). But Kant only asked him for Bison to please take him away from the situation at hand, and beyond that he didn't get any answers, he didn't get any reactions beyond Kant being scared to death - but the primary source of that fear was pretty obviously not himself.

Bison being already incredibly frustrated and hurt and betrayed and probably incredibly conflicted over what to do with Kant and especially the situation defaulted to threats, because that is probably how he usually gets answers.

Kant meanwhile had most of his mind being eaten by the incredible despair of being faced with the full force of his (most likely completely untreated) trauma, and in such moments it's hard to even grasp a proper thought, or follow your usual instincts. And when faced with a command at gunpoint by the person he both loves and betrayed so badly, it was probably the easiest to relent, to give in and take that step to just have things end somehow. Standing up to being shot would probably have needed resolve that he didn't have anymore at that moment. So he jumped.

I am 100% sure that Bison didn't expect that, based on every way he knows Kant. And we know that Bison is a person who needs control. This situation though that by all means should have been completely under his control spiraled out of said control so fast that Bison wasn't able to stop it.

I honestly wouldn't be the tiniest bit surprised if the first thing that Bison will do next episode is throw away the gun, dive after Kant and try to rescue him while asking him why he jumped, why he didn't fight back over and over and over.

Khaotung Thanawat as Bison (The Heart Killers, 2024-2025)

[wirewitchviolet]

The Big Lie of Transphobia

There is a lot of really horrifying transphobic stuff going on at the moment, even relative to the baseline. Like arrests and federal repression in the U.S. and don't even get me started on that new policy from Facebook and the propaganda amplification that's going to do. So you may find yourself wondering what you can do to help.

As always the real answer to that is to just give all the money and other material aid you possibly can to every trans person you are personally aware of. Individually. Don't look for a charity to donate to, there really isn't one. Make those patreon pledges and write those checks and empty those wallets and cosign for those houses, go!

But if what you're really asking is, what can you do that won't personally inconvenience you, the best thing you can probably do is to really internalize that the Big Lie backing up all the transphobia out there is a complete lie, and convince everyone else you can too. And what's the Big Lie behind transphobia? "Trans women are men who believe they are women." As usual with these, I'm going to expound on that a ton under the fold here.

It really is the lynchpin of everything transphobes have to push. If you don't believe it, none of the things they're pushing for makes even the slightest bit of sense, but if you DO believe it, even if you aren't all in on the other hate stuff, it's going to warp the hell out of your perspective and make you a crappy ally. And wow is it ever deeply embedded in there.

So for what it's worth, as a reminder, when people make statements like "trans women are women" that is stating an actual fact. That's not some weird feel-good slogan that "really" means "you should treat trans women like they are real women" or something. It's just what we freaking are. We aren't men who have some strange mental illness that makes us think of ourselves as women, we aren't people who start out as men and for some reason make some kind of decision to become women. We're just women, always have been, just like any other woman.

If you've met a number of trans women, you can very clearly and plainly see that's true, but the thing is, most people haven't. And the lie gets pushed damn hard. Most people's idea of what a trans woman is, and for that matter, most other things about life, comes from what they see in TV and movies and the like, and on those occasions where a work of fiction features someone they'll call a trans woman, they tend to get some dude to put on a dress to play the part, which is usually also some sort of weird crazy murderous sex worker. Movies and TV also tend to depict cars as prone to burst into massive fireballs if anything goes wrong with them, glass windows as something you can jump through without being sliced up so badly by the shards you're basically going to die instantly, police as caring helpful people who try to solve crimes and return people's stolen stuff and such, and people with albinism as having strange magical powers. None of this is actually true in reality.

So yeah, it's not even a little bit true. If you look at the people who insist the loudest that it is, you'll notice they are completely out of touch with reality and preach all kinds of ridiculous BS. Get it into your head that there isn't even a sliver of truth to it, and it's easier to get on the right side of a lot of things.

Are trans women trustworthy? Yeah? I mean, as much as the next person. Why wouldn't we be? Because some freaking weirdo is sharing all kinds of weird conspiracy theories and setting up weird freaking stalker shrines about us? Pretty clear who it is you shouldn't be trusting there.

Is it OK for trans women to play sports? Yeah? Why would that even be a problem? We don't have superpowers or anything. We're just regular freaking women. Well OK a lot of us have pretty nasty health problems leaving us a bit less physically fit than most women, but you know, doing athletic stuff should help with that.

Is it OK for trans women to use public restrooms? Yeah? Like honestly, I know a lot of guys get weird about women going to the bathroom in groups sometimes but there's nothing sinister about that, just sometimes you need to pull someone aside to ask if you can borrow some embarrassing thing or double check makeup or check if someone's date is as big a creep as they come off and you need to run interference. Mostly though people just need to pee sometimes, and society generally prefers that people do so in a toilet and not the street or whatever.

What about children being trans? Like... everyone's a child at some point? A lot of the downsides to being trans come from associated medical issues which can be totally prevented if spotted early, so it's actually very good to have kids look out for whether they might be dealing with those and get the appropriate medication, which is true for basically anything.

Well what about [whatever stupid BS derailment]? Yeah I'm addressing a group of people who actually need to have it explained to them that women are in fact women and not men, let's not go confusing people with whatever weird sidetrack you want to get onto.

[ninatheelf]

goddard - law of assumption lecture notes :

“tonight will be on the law. i think you will find it a very practical evening.”

some notes i took on a lecture straight from the source himself! this is lengthy but worth reading if you want to learn more about loa directly from Neville Goddard, the man who widely taught and coined the term.

✦ a brief prelude :

please keep in mind that you do not have to read this entire post to shift. in the end, it all boils down to one point -

*what you believe wholeheartedly, without question, is what your reality becomes.*

that is all you need to know in order to shift.

this lecture is just an expansion on the idea for those who want to learn more about the details of the Law of Assumption. i’m posting this because i find the study of the loa fascinating, and i think these quotes and takes from Goddard are worth sharing with the community and shifters like me who appreciate an academic breakdown of these concepts.

i’ve tried my best to simplify the language i use to make this easier to digest. it’s a lot of info that i think is all important, but i’ve highlighted the key takeaways if you’re in a tldr mood :))

this lecture directly challenges Christianity. if you are a Christian, these ideas may seem like they go against your belief system. however, it is important to understand that by the nature of the Law of Assumption, if you believe in God, God exists.

the point is that you have the God-like ability to decide and therefore create objective reality through your beliefs, and if that is in Christianity, that is your decision (the same is true for those who practice Buddhism, Hinduism, atheism, agnosticism, general spirituality, etc.)

it is also important to remember that shifting does not go against any religion, and that the ideas surrounding reality shifting are prominent within certain religions.

— — — — — — — — ✿ — — — — — — — —

✦ you have the power of a god :

answering the question of “the cause of the phenomenon of life.”

uses Christianity as a reference / comparison point - likely due to the fact that the audience he was speaking to was predominantly Christian, as the lecture took place in America around the 1950’s in which Protestant Christianity was the most prominent religion at the time, practiced by nearly half of all Americans - provides various lines of scripture from the Bible and breaks down religious language as evidence to his claims (i’m not going to type out every quote, it’s all spoken in the linked video)

asks who is the "one God" that scripture speaks of? - when a Christian is posed with this question, the answer from them would have to do with someone/thing that is external to themself 

when posed with the question of who imagination is tied to, the answer has to do with the internal self - “. . .if i spoke of your imagination, i am certain you will think of no one but yourself. could it be that your imagination is the God of scripture?” - cites a particular scripture from the Bible as proof, “‘. . .That I, even I, am He. . .I kill, I make alive. I wound, I heal. And there is none that can deliver out of my hand.’”

references accessing the mental plane (4d) to manifest desires - “Shut your eyes, close your senses completely, and you can reproduce it [your desires] in fancy.”

so, through these points, Goddard is basically stating that you are God. i recognize the magnitude of that statement, it’s lot to take in haha- - but it makes sense! especially in regard to the Law of Assumption. we are the creators of our reality, the “gods” that decide how things go through what we assume about ourselves and the world. - Goddard is very adamant on the idea that you are God, but for those who believe in a higher power, it would make more sense to believe that you are God-like; the concept can change slightly depending on religious beliefs - ultimately, Goddard is making us realize just how much power we wield as shifters / followers of the loa, it is akin to that of a god’s.

✦ your imagination is your reality :

the (mental, 4d) image proceeds the objective fact (the physical, 3d) - “. . .objective reality is purely produced through imagining. . .It is all within us. Our own wonderful human imaginations. . .”

the individual is the cause of the phenomenon of their own life, and possibly the lives of others around them - “You could be, if you are vivid in your imagination, the influence in the imaginations of unnumbered people. . .If they are passive, they fall under your influence. . .those who are not in control of their imagination. . .simply sway from side to side as you in control move them.”

this take reminds me of how anything, from how false narratives created by the media to cult leaders, can literally construct new realities for people who trust in their words. people who are not willing to question the sources they get their information from live in a distorted reality created by a person who tells them what to perceive and believe in. - Goddard goes on to reference dictators as an example of this, “If you can’t do it, and some dictators have tried to do it, they’ll bring in their propaganda machines, and then they try to force Man into a certain shell, into a certain state. And quite often they succeed, up to a point. But you, without the aid of any machine in this world, you can change the structure of your world by the control of your own wonderful human imagination.”

once again, this is a loaded and frankly frightening realization, but it all leads back to the fact that we have access to a power that is incredibly far-reaching and influential. our ability is limitless.

✦ how to use this ability :

Goddard explains how “reason” (the 3d) can initially interfere with one’s assumptions and becoming aware of a desired reality. but as long as one is persistent in their belief, the 3d will change into objective reality. - “You can sit down in this very moment and begin to dream the most glorious dream in the world, concerning yourself. At the moment of the dream, reason denies it, your senses deny it. But if you dare to assume that assumption. . .and persist in that assumption, it will harden into fact.”

defines the Law of Assumption as: If I dare to believe that what I have said will come to pass, and not question it. . .it will come to pass. - “. . .if you really believe it, you can start now—this night—and change the world in which you live. . .What would it be like if it were true? If I am now the man I would like to be, or the woman I’d like to be?”

brings up the importance of once again ignoring the 3d until you have reached your desired reality. - “‘I resolve to be…’ and you name it. Not based upon the evidence of your senses, or what reason dictates, but a wish on your part.” - references Shakespeare quote: “. . .he which is one who wished, until he were. . .I am the man I wanted to be, it began as a wish." - “Your imaginal activity is actually producing objective reality.”

Goddard literally explains that shifting to a different locational desired reality is possible with the following quote: - “Man must be wherever he is in imagination. . .so I will simply imagine myself to be elsewhere, if that’s where I want to be.”

persistence in the belief of the new assumption is key to making it manifest in reality 

“It is entirely up to us, what are we going to do with this creative power of the world, when we ourselves are that power?”

✦ conclusion (my additions) :

honestly, it feels a bit egotistical at first when realizing the fact that you have always had a god-like ability, and you’ve never had to work to access it, because the power literally is *you* (well, technically your mind, but ykwim). - the Law of Assumption literally places yourself on the same level as a divine being- it’s insane to try to comprehend that.

but it is true, because you have the power to create- you’ve always had the power to create, and now that you’ve become aware of that, the options on what to create are limitless. - i think that humility is an extremely important trait to maintain regarding the use of loa. it is an honor to be able to know about this ability and the endless possibilities that come with it, and it should be used in a responsible manner.

as long as you are persistent in your assumptions, believing in them no matter what your physical surroundings show, you will find yourself in your desired reality. it really is that simple. again, there are no limits to what you can create.

i feel like this lecture has a “with great power comes great responsibility” vibe to it lol- like especially at the end Goddard is really trusting that we will do good with this information. - i think if he knew that the majority of those on shiftblr are using this knowledge to pursue their passions, experience magic, cuddle with their s/o, and engage in generally positive and fulfilling activities, he’d be proud. 

— — — — — — — — ✿ — — — — — — — —

this lecture was great to listen to! the loa is something that i’ve only recently become aware of, and it’s already helped me so much in terms of how i look at and go about the process of shifting. it’s made me realize that it really is that easy.

if you have any questions about these notes / the actual lecture (which i've linked as a content source- lmk if you have trouble accessing it), feel free to ask via the comments or "ask me anything!"

𝜗𝜚

[frostfires-blog]

Hello, it's MXTX Ask Game :

1.) From the 3 works by MXTX, who is your favorite (canon) couple? Why?

2.) From the 3 works by MXTX, do you have any non canon fav ships?

(FYI, I have at least 10 non canon ships from those 3 series, sorry)

3.) From the 3 works by MXTX, do you have any favorite quotes (from each series)?

4.) Who is your favorite love interest in MXTX three novels (luo binghe, lan wangji, mobei jun or hua cheng)? Why?

5.) Who is your favorite mc in MXTX three novels (shen qingqiu, wei wuxian, shang qinghua or xie lian)? Why?

6 a.) Which do you think is more tragic, Yi City arc or BeefLeaf arc or the Fallout between Shen Jiu - Yue Qi? Why?

b.) Can I ask your opinion on the comparison between bingqiu, wangxian, moshang, and hualian (their plus and minus sides)?

P.s 1 If you have not read SVSSS, it's okay, then you can answer based on TGCF & MDZS. But if you have the time, please read SVSSS, too. It's so funny. Yes, they're not as deep as TGCF or MDZS, but still have depth in the story.

P.s 2 As Jiang Yanli fan, do you love the canon ship of Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan? For me, she is too good for him, and I'm not really the biggest fan of JZX.

P.s 3 As Yushi Huang fan, too, I'm so happy and excited that you include her in your top 5 fav characters in TGCF. You're the first one that I know of that include her in top 5 favorite. Until now, I thought it's just me (and I have been TGCF fan since 2020). Also, who do you ship her with? I ship her with Pei Ming (sorry, please don't be mad). It's just funny that playboy like him meet a woman that he can't seduce like her. Oh and in the new revised version, it's canon that Pei Ming have a crush on Yushi Huang.

Sorry for my long ask.

[Hey! Once again, thanks for sending me this! Sorry, it took me so long to get around to it. To avoid offending anyone, I would want to stress once more that these are just my personal opinions.]

1.) Some of you will call me predictable for this... I'm sorry, but it has to be HuaLian. They are the epitome of enduring love and devotion to me. They embody so many tropes I love while remaining so refreshingly impactful. Their journey, their struggles, their aesthetics... I just adore everything about them. I've mentioned this before, but their relationship feels so authentic and sincere because their affection for one another is built up so steadily and meticulously. Their affection for one another is truly palpable through every held glance, melodic sigh, and subtly delicate touch. Undoubtedly what makes them not only my favourite MXTX ship but also my favourite ship of all time is that they embody the concepts of loving someone without expecting anything in return and loving someone at their worst; that sort of unadulterated, unconditional love is something I aspire towards but will likely never find.

2.) Regarding non-canon couples, I support many fan-favourite ones, but I am not as passionate about them as most other fans are. In fact, I partially understand MXTX's decision not to make any more side ships canon. The ones I'd say I have positive feelings about are the following...

⚬ BeefLeaf: They're my favourite non-canonical side ship in the MXTX universe. Admittedly, I didn't take much note of them on my first read-through (which is my attitude towards most side couples). I wanted to feature them in my side edits earlier this year, but sadly there wasn't enough material for them. ⚬ Pei Xiu x Ban Yue: Underrated but pretty cute ⚬ Pei Ming x Yushi Huang: I'll expand on them at P.S. 3 ⚬ FengQing: A classic. ⚬ QuanYin

⚬ SongXiao: Another classic... I've heard that the Yi City arc was supposed to be a separate story entirely, so I feel like this makes sense. They remind me a lot of another ship, but I can't put my finger on it.

⚬ A lot of you are going to be mad at me for this, but I really like LiuShen—as in Liu Qingge x Shen Yuan (aka our Shen Qingqiu). SVSSS is the only MXTX novel where I ship the protagonist with anyone else other than the main romantic interest. While I could see certain characters having one-sided feelings for Xie Lian and Wei Wuxian respectively, I can't see either of them returning those feelings at all. Shen Qingqiu is just so shippable for some reason—so I totally get why he is shipped with a lot of other characters. As for LiuShen I just like their easy dynamic—namely the trust they place in each other and them being on almost equal footing. Also the tension, the denial, the pining...

3.) Honestly, there are a myriad of quotes I like—but for the sake of keeping this brief, I've picked out a few that I found impactful. Since I've only read SVSSS once—and haven't done a hanakotoba analysis post on it—I didn't have a list of quotes at hand like I did for TGCF and MDZS...So there are fewer quotes listed for it. Additionally, the tone of SVSSS is very different from that of TGCF and MDZS, so finding fitting quotes was more difficult... Everything Shen Qingqiu says and thinks is especially hilarious, but I didn't want to post anything crude or too colourful here...

+ Bonus: My favourite non-serious quote from each series...

4.) Definitely Hua Cheng (surprise surprise). I just love how sincere, charming, and straightforward he is compared to the other male leads. I think he has the coolest design out of the four as well. While he might not have as complex of a backstory as the others, his sheer commitment and charisma more than compensate for that. His sassiness and snarkiness is really endearing as well. I really do like Lan Wangji, but I have complicated feelings about Luo Binghe. Somehow I always forget about Mobei Jun—he just doesn't have much presence, though his awkwardness and stoicness are entertaining in their own way.

5.) I truly like all the MCs though, which makes this choice a lot more difficult. Shen Qingqiu is so funny and relatable—as is Shang Qinghua. Wei Wuxian is so multi-layered, charismatic, and inspiring. Xie Lian is so profound and endearing. In the end, I'd have to say Xie Lian is my absolute favourite, though. What sets Xie Lian apart for me is that his kindness stems not from him being unable to see the bad in people, but from him actively choosing to believe in their goodness. Despite being subjected to tremendous adversity, he continues to be resilient and virtuous. Even so, he is not a perfect character and has made mistakes—but he has learned from them and has grown immensely from his experiences. This makes him not only incredibly captivating but also immensely inspirational. Furthermore, his awkwardly blunt humour is both relatable and endearing.

6a.) Damn, this is a tough one. They are all impactful scenes in their own ways so I'm going to go by process of elimination... The "fallout between Shen Jiu and Yue Qi would probably be in last place. This isn't to say it's not tragic but rather that I wasn't as emotionally invested in either character as I am in the others. It was a necessary part of the plot and I can understand both of their situations. That is to say, I couldn't see things turning any differently. Next would probably be the Black Water/Beefleaf arc. This arc didn't really hit me on my first read-through because I was mostly focused on HuaLian. Also, I was very suspicious of Ming Yi so his betrayal felt a little anti-climatic—not to brag, but I have a pretty good eye for that kind of thing. That being said, I still was somewhat taken aback by his motives. On my second read-through, I started becoming more invested in all of the side plots, and it all hit me much harder. What pulls this down to second place is that I can greatly sympathise with He Xuan. While Shi Qingxuan didn't deserve to be punished for something, he had no active part in—He Xuan's feelings were justified. Given that their respective conclusions in the series' final volume have left room for a possible reconciliation—I selfishly and delusionally hold onto the hope that they will.

This leaves the top spot for the Yi City Arc, which gripped me from the first time I saw it. This hits me so much harder since, by its end, 4 lives are irrevocably changed. Xiao Xingchen, Song Lan and A-Qing truly deserved better. While this arc is often overlooked and criticised, I think it's one of the most complex and powerful arcs in MDZS. The dynamics between Xiao Xingchen, A-Qing and Xue Yang are incredibly complex—with the latter's motives being much more complex than simple revenge. A-Qing's strength and bravery truly stood out to me while Xiao Xicheng's compassion and selflessness were truly moving. Although the arc mostly consists of flashbacks, it still ties in well with the present storyline. The parallels drawn between the main cast and the Yi City group are very clever and add depth to the series. What truly makes this arc heart-wrenching is that its conclusion leaves no room for any hope whatsoever. It's truly a heart-wrenchingly beautiful story.

6b.) In all honesty it's difficult to compare them given their respective complexity and differing circumstances... While I'm not sure if I answered this in the intended format, I did my best.

i) BingQiu: ➜Pros: ⦁ Binghe's assertiveness complements Shen Qingqiu's evasiveness and willful ignorance well. Considering that Shen QIngqiu would likely never be honest about his feelings unless prompted. ⦁ They are the most complex MXTX pair, as both characters are grappling with numerous actual-life problems (such as comphet and abandonment issues, respectively), which lends them a sense of nuance and authenticity. ⦁ Shen Qingqiu shows commitment to learning to be more accommodating of Binghe's relationship needs towards the end of the series while Binghe is learning to make necessary compromises. ➜Cons: ⦁ They have differing values, with Binghe caring only about Shen Qingqiu while Shen Qingqiu cares about other characters, which is a source of contention between them. ⦁ Sometimes, Shen Qingqiu doesn't respect Binghe's agency or personhood and makes high-handed decisions on his behalf. While this is not done maliciously, it nonetheless hurts the latter. This stems from them never truly stepping out of their roles as student and master. ⦁ Oftentimes, Binghe's possessiveness and jealousy terrify Shen Qingqiu (and me)—this causes him to flee from Binghe, aggravating the latter's abandonment and control issues. ⦁ Shen Qingqiu's lack of transparency with Binghe—and himself—is another issue. While the system prevented him from being transparent for a long time, I was disappointed that we never saw him come clean to Binghe at all.

ii) MoShang: ➜Pros: ⦁ The trope of an author's love for their character being reciprocated is very indulgent and gratifying. ⦁ They gradually bring out the best in one another—with Shang Qinhua becoming more standoffish and bold while Mobei-jun becomes more expressive and compromising. ⦁ While they face many of the same issues as BinQiu, I feel like they efficiently subvert many of them. For example, the uneven power dynamic of Mobei-jun being much more powerful than Shang Qinhua and the latter's fear of him is subverted by Shang Qinghua being the creator of PIDW and thus having a degree of omniscience over its characters, setting, and plot points. ➜Cons: ⦁ The physical violence and master/servant aspects of their dynamic are off-putting. ⦁ The lack of straightforward communication between the two results in many misunderstandings. ⦁ In comparison to the other main pairs, they are not as noticeable, defined, or developed due to their limited screen time and prominence in the series.

iii) WangXian: ➜Pros: ⦁ Their natural chemistry is exemplary with each of them supplementing the shortcomings of the other. ⦁ Despite their opposing dispositions and approaches to things, they share similar values and priorities—which enables them to respect and trust each other and collaborate effectively as they mature. ⦁ The extras highlight how, after getting together, they continually work to understand each other's boundaries and learn to accommodate each other's needs. ⦁ Their adaptability is another one of their strong points as a couple. Although they are both pretty headstrong, in Wei Wuxian's second life they gradually learn to make concessions for one other. ➜Cons: ⦁ Their differing communication styles caused a lot of miscommunication and distance between the pair in Wei Wuxian's first life. Although I feel like they've considerably worked through this by the end of the novel and balance each other out nicely now. ⦁ Lan Wangji's limited expressiveness and directness are another point of contention. While Wei Wuxian's obliviousness is legendary, if Lan Wangji had been more transparent, Wei Wuxian wouldn't have misconstrued things to such a large degree. If not for Lan Xichen's intervention, Wei Wuxian might never have realised the extent of Lan Wangji's affection for him. However, over time, Wei Wuxian learns to better read Lan Wangji overcoming this obstacle.

iv) HuaLian: ➜Pros: ⦁ The age-old trope of "even if everyone abandoned you, I would still stand beside you" is unmatched. Hualian embodies the sentiment of loving someone not just at their best but also at their worst; which is an unparalleled depiction of unconditional love. ⦁ Their relationship was founded on a good friendship centred around mutual respect, open communication and sincerity. As such their interactions in the present time always feel comforting and natural as opposed to the other pairs. ⦁ Hua Cheng is very respectful of Xie Lian's agency and supports him in his endeavours. That being said he will step in when Xie Lian is being careless with his own wellbeing which is something the latter needs. ⦁ They greatly complement one another and have both helped each other overcome their respective issues. Namely, Hua Cheng being strong enough to help shoulder Xie Lian's burdens and continue believing in him even when everyone else abandoned him. In the same way, Xie Lian gave Hua Cheng a reason for existence and a place to belong—this not only gave the latter direction but also helped him to value himself more (since someone cared for him). ➜Cons: ⦁ They are sometimes perceived as dull in comparison to other pairings because most of the trials they face are of an external nature, which means they rarely deal with disagreements with each other. ⦁ Hua Cheng's lack of well-developed friendships with anyone other than Xie Lian is somewhat disconcerting.

P.S.1) I have read all three MXTX novels, though I rarely speak about SVSSS. This is mostly because I'm not the biggest fan of BingQiu and Binghe in general. This isn't because SVSSS is a bad book, but rather that I went into it with very high expectations and it was very different to what I thought it would be like. I'm not the biggest fan of the teacher x student trope or large age gaps, so that threw me off as well. Someday I want to reread it and take more time considering it as I do—since I feel like I've greatly misunderstood some characters' intentions midway, especially Binghe. Maybe I'll come to appreciate more someday after becoming more open-minded...

P.S. 2) I do like Jiang Yanli x Jin Zixuan (I would've mentioned them at #2 but you only asked about non-canonical ships). That being said, I totally understand your feelings—especially since I used to feel that way too. I only started appreciating the ship after having watched the live-action and rereading the novel. During the intial arcs, Jin Zixuan doesn't have much respect or care for Jiang Yanli—which was really upsetting. However, judging by the context given one can slighly empathise with his discomfort. After all, no one wants to be forcibly married off to someone they barely know, especially when your peers don't think highly of that person. The disolution of their enagement was something I think was totally necessary at that time. After the war, he grows up a bit—he realises how compassionate Jiang Yanli is after the Soup Incident... This is when his feelings start to shift and he starts pursuing her. Yes, his mother is encouraging him—but at the hunting tournament, he states that he is pursuing her out of his own volition. Added to this, the fact that, even as prideful as Jin Zixuan was, he was willing to put aside his beef with Wei Wuxian and not only invite him to Jing Ling's One-Month Celebration but also go to Qiongqi Path to fetch him to make Jiang Yanli happy really moved me. The live-action's added scene of him having lotuses planted at Golden Carp Tower so Jiang Yanli wouldn't get homesick was endearing as well. Ultimately, Jiang Yanli deserves to be happy, and she was happy with him, so I have no issues with their relationship. They both deserved to see their son grow up...

P.S.3) I'm glad you like Yushi Huang too! She's incredibly underrated—I fear most MXTX female characters are as well... I do ship her with Pei Ming as well—but I'm not too disappointed that MXTX never made them official. I also like the idea that Pei Ming for once wants what he can't have. Xuan Ji's curse on Pei Ming has indeed turned into a self-fulfilling prophecy of sorts... How awkward he is around her is incredibly amusing. As prideful as he is, he respects her. Somehow he consistently finds himself being saved by her despite his male chauvinism, which humbles him. I quite like their dynamic and wish we had gotten more scenes of them—hopefully, the donghua will expand just as they did with the Fangxin Arc. I've heard about the revised version but haven't checked it out yet. I'm quite attached to the original, and the bits and pieces I've heard about it have given me mixed feelings. I do like that MXTX expanded on Pei Ming's feelings towards Yushi Huang and hope to find time to read that part sometime soon.

[ Ahhh! Sorry for rambling so long...I wanted to make sure I covered all my bases, and ending up getting ahead of myself again... ]

[damnbluewires]

She set up her instruments for a routine autopsy, and realized she has run out of gloves. Having no one else in the facility to fetch them for her, she headed out to the supply closet down the corridor. The lights were muted, but she liked it that way, being used to stay overtime. The work was indeed grueling and demanding, but this, staying this late, was out of her own volition. Not to be a walking stereotype, but she much preferred the company of the cold, dead cadavers to the company of her cold, and emotionally as good as dead coworkers.

Not mentioning, that the cadavers were far better conversationalists as well.

She didn't choose the profession because of her gift, it was more like the gift chose her because of her profession. Yeah, that didn't make sense to her either.

All she knew is that one day she was opening up some old man's chest cavity to investigate the potential cause of death, and the bastard started hitting on her.

She had nerves of steel, never even as much as grimaced during all of her training, despite how bad the smell was, but this, she must admit, made her yelp and stumble onto her metal tray. She eventually was just glad nobody was there to make fun of her. Apart from the man with a scalpel still poking out of his ribs.

She learned that day, that sometimes she can see the corpses rise from the dead, for exactly ten minutes, before collapsing back, that time for good. What surprised her more, was that most of the people who were brought to her morgue were already more or less prepared to die, so they were just glad to have one last opportunity to have a chat with her.

She adjusted to that new aspect of her job rather quickly, never once thinking of quitting. She would stitch some poor sod's guts back into their body, while talking to the other next in line, about nothing in particular. She would listen to odd stories, treasured memories, and what it felt like to die. It was rather nice, all things considered.

She mused on that, as she grabbed a new box of gloves from the supply and headed back.

The one she had today was some bloke they found in the alley in a pool of blood. What was odd, is that he had no injuries on him. She would have to ask about that.

She put the gloves on, rechecked the instruments, took a scalpel, and started to feel for the right muscle to open the chest from, with practiced grace. When she found the right spot, she began the incision, and heard an inquisitive and amused: "Not even going to buy me a drink first?"

"I don't drink, thanks. Half a year sober." She answered, unfazed as ever. She wanted to continue the cut, but realized it's probably impolite to do so, and raised her eyes at the man, who was dead silent.

He was quiet for a while, and then uncertainly mumbled: "…Congratulations?"

She smiled at him, "Thanks! It has been hard to resist drinking something you know you shouldn't, but it just felt so damn good. You know?"

"I might be aware of the feeling, yes… But, hold on, why am I the stunned one? Why are you not running away, screaming?"

"And miss all the fun? Plus, that honestly sounds exhausting, and I have some more people after you, so I'd rather not waste that energy." She rationalized, while the man tried to collect himself. What the fuck?

"Right. Because the corpses coming to life is just another Tuesday for you."

"It's Wednesday, actually," she beamed again. "But, yeah! Pretty much." Is this hell? Was he finally in hell?

"Are you a demon of some sort?" There was no other explanation.

"Aw, flattery? And who was asking about a drink first?" Yeah. Hell. Most definitely.

"But, no, just your average clerk. Say, how did you end up in that alley? I've been dying to know." That's it. He had to get out of there.

"I have to get out of here."

"Oh, no, you don't. I don't need another runner, thank you very much."

He swooped off the metal bed and bolted to the door. Which was locked.

"Look, I know you are confused, I shouldn't have started with the jokes, but I really need you to go back to the bed. You will collapse somewhere on the street in less than ten minutes, and I really don't need another cop on my ass."

He paused his attempts to get the door open. "You have a cop on your ass?"

"Had one in my ass also, but that was long ago."

He slowly turned at that, and stared at the mortician, who was still just sitting idly on her stool with an innocent smile.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you will be dead again soon, and won't be able to tell anyone."

"I have been dead for a while now."

"Oh, really? Would love to know about that, if you come back and sit down. I'd offer you a coffee, but I will have to be the one to clean up the mess later, and I would honestly rather not."

He did come and sat back down.

"I don't drink coffee anyway." He said, almost to himself.

"What do you usually drink then?"

"Blood of my enemies."

"Ha! And i thought i was the one with dark jokes around here." He didn't say anything to that.

"So, back to my original question, what were you doing in that alley?"

"Drinking the blood of my enemies." He said deadpan.

"I complimented you way too soon, that joke was only funny the first time." She said, and he swears, she almost sounded disappointed. He should not care. He really shouldn't. But…

"You should try it. Tastes better than any alcohol in the world."

"It does sound good, I can't lie. But I bet Becky's blood will be gross no matter how much I hate her. She's on that new 'raw meat' diet. She adds butter to her coffee!" She made a disgusted noise and a face, and his head spinned a little. Must be from the disgust as well. Must be…

"I can understand raw meat, but butter in coffee? Really? Some people just do not care about what they consume, I swear to g-" The word stuck in his throat. He forgot for a second he couldn't say it. But the mortician seemed to not catch that.

"I know, right! But I do prefer my meat cooked. I honestly don't know how I'm not a vegetarian yet. The sight of blood doesn't make me hungry at all."

He quirked his brow at that, "Not even a little bit?"

"Not in the least. Just reminds me of my job. I do love my job, though, comes with its perks."

"Like what?"

"Like talking to you."

She smiled at him yet again, and something warmed inside the place where his heart used to be. But her smile vanished, as she raised her arm to check the clock. The ten minutes must be coming to the end, and she was dreading being in silence again. Alone. Always alone in the end. Only these rare moments of genuinely nice company is all she ha-. She froze. Twelve full minutes have passed.

It was the man's turn to smile at her confusion.

"What's wrong, doc? Forgot to put in the time of death?" He seemed to be amused all over again. "You are a bit too late for that. About two centuries too late."

She looked up at him, for once lost for words.

"I told you I was dead for a while now."

"So, in the alley…"

"Yes, I was actually drinking the blood of my enemies. And it did have a strange aftertaste. Maybe that horrid diet trend is spreading." He mused.

"You are not a ghost?"

"Ghost?! I am deeply wounded by that assumption. I am something much better than a mere ghost." He lowered his voice seductively. "I am a vampire."

She blinked. "…Like in twilight?"

"Oh for fucks- Why is that the first thing people think about? There was not a single vampire in that whole production."

"There are vampires in movie production?"

"In good movie production - yes."

"I have so many questions."

"So how about that drink? Bubble tea sounds good? There is a good place just across the road, and it is still open, I know the owner. Meet you there in ten." And with that, he winked, transformed into a bat, and flew out the window.

She sat there for a while. And then snickered, starting to get ready.

"Curiouser and curiouser…"

okay I had a BRILLIANTLY UNHINGED story idea for someone to write

a mortician has the magical ability to speak with the dead so she doesn't realize anything is unusual when one of her corpses sits up and starts sassing her

only to discover that her conversationalist is actually a vampire

and said vampire very confused about why the mortician isn't freaking out, normally this prank gets 'em every time

[butchsophiewalten]

There's this interconnected web of Walten Files Information that keeps coming back into my mind which I meant to make a post about a while ago. Which is as follows:

-We know from the Richie audios in Findjackwalten/caretakerlibrary that Rosemary had already been banned from (or at least highly discouraged from entering) Bon's Burgers by the 1st of July, which is quite a ways away from when she disappeared on the 19th. I definitely wouldn't put it past her to sneak into the restaurant during its off-hours, but we know at least that her being there wasn't formally sanctioned.

-From the way he talks to and interacts with Susan in TWF4, it seems that Bon's 'Selection Process' for who he 'beautifies' is not arbitrary, nor is it necessarily opportunistic. Which is to say that he's not picking people at random, and he's not picking people only because they would be an easy target. He watches them, and chooses them based on criteria they exhibit which appeal to him. In essence, he picks people he likes, who he thinks belong in his Wonderland.

-There's a near-undeniable but Implicit fixation that Bon has on Rosemary, which we only learn through many, many small things. The 'shrine' we see him create for her in Souvenir is relatively elaborate, (in that it seems to contain more than one object that is associated with her,) and he put her in Sha, which is the companion animatronic to his Bon. Rose's death scene in TWF2 also makes it seem like he spoke to her, as the Bon animatronic, before killing her. What he says exactly is notable, too. "Rose broken. Will fix you. You will beautiful." It's, one, an explanation of what he's doing. Bon did this for Susan too, but not in the 'physical world,' before he actually hurt her. Also, it's comfort. A soothing reassurance. I'll fix you. You'll be beautiful. Then also, of course, he calls her Rosie. "I know where he is, Rosie," is a line that haunts me forever, thinking of it coming from him.

This all paints a specific sort of picture in my mind. I like to think that Bon likes Rosemary a lot, and that she's a favorite of his, because she designed The Showstoppers. I think he likes Susan quite a lot for a similar reason, she was the woman who gave him his flesh and his bone. Who forged the vessel that he now lives for. But Rosemary is the artist who made it what he loves. She was the visionary who made him Beautiful.

So I think that Bon had his heart set on Rosemary for Wonderland. And it makes me wonder if the contentions between her and Felix that kept him away from her really pissed him off. But the core of my 'theory' here is just that Bon wanted her in the restaurant, that night. That she maybe wouldn't have been there at all, if someone hadn't asked her to be.

[hypewinter]

Jazz wasn't crazy. People might argue that burning her childhood home to the ground with her parents still inside would be an indicator of insanity. But how else was she supposed to react after coming back home from college to find out her parents had brutally killed her brother via vivisection?

Dying her hair blonde wasn't crazy either before anyone asked. Plenty of girls dyed their hair when they needed a change. Besides, she could never live with herself if she kept the same hair color as that vile woman.

Admittedly Jazz would have to secede moving to Gotham had been a little crazy but it was the perfect place to start fresh and blend in despite her "quirks". She had even picked out a nice new identity for herself.

Clearly Jazz was not crazy as she had managed to land a job at Arkham Asylum as a psychiatrist. If she were really insane would they have ever hired her? No they wouldn't have.

Jazz was not crazy. She was very much sane. Just like her precious Mr. J.