#attempt at understanding the human heart and her own repressed emotions

[hypogryffin]

Erina and Sophie....

erina and sophie..... perhaps even sophie and erina....

[krisnb485]

How do Liko and Dot’s quirks interact with each other?

Ok so, to understand the quirk-related interactions between Liko and Dot, first we've gotta explain what their quirks are.

Liko's quirk is named Conduit. Her strong emotions generate energy which is pumped by her heart through her veins. She can transfer this energy onto others to power up their quirks, heal them and output her feelings onto them, which can either uplift their mood or make it horrible depending on how Liko's feeling at the moment. When she gets excess energy, parts of her body crystallize and crystals start growing out of her body in an attempt to adapt itself to the energy. She can use that energy for firing off blasts of energy akin to Tera Blast, manipulating the crystals and separating them from her body to create a shield similar to Terapagos' shell, amongst other things like powering up her own body. She can also willingly drain energy from other lifeforms' bodies in order to further amplify her power, but she can't drain too much or the other person will be greatly weakened or even die because of the lifeforce absorption. She can't have too much energy stored in her body, because if the crystals get too big and bulky, it will interfere in her fighting capabilities and her body will become unstable and could even bring her to death by her body exploding from the inside out, but she also can't output too much either, since once she runs out of energy acquired from other people, she starts taking energy from her own lifeforce, which as explained during the lifeforce absorption part, is fatal for the individual. Her body's warmer than an average human's because of this, and ofc this makes her have a really high emotional sensitivity, similar to her og part but multiplied by ten.

On the other hand, Dot's quirk is named Hydra. It's a mutation quirk that makes her body very reptile-like, with qualities similar to those of a Leviathan, and electric powers akin to electric eels. Her freckles glow depending on her emotional state, and she has two forms; a "repressed form" in which she's smaller and her reptilian traits are less noticeable, and she's weaker and slower in this form as well, and an unrepressed form which amplifies her strength and speed and makes her bigger, like six feet or smthin like that. Because of her reptile-like body, she gets cold easily and is very weak to low temperatures, and commonly craves physical touch with things that are warm and soft, so her comfort items (something something the tism) tend to be a big help in keeping her warm and calm.

Because of Liko's high sensitivity to emotions (and the tism), she tends to get overwhelmed and completely disconnects from her sensory input in order to focus herself on the emotion and energy input she gets, which is uh, NOT good lol. A big part of Liko and Dot's relationship in this AU is physical touch, since Dot's touch on Liko's skin allows Liko to keep herself grounded and not completely dissociate, since the texture of Dot's scales is very comfortable and familiar to her.

Not only that, but as Dot gets more comfortable with physical touch around Liko, her animal-ish instincts to keep herself warm make her crave cuddling with Liko, since Liko's quirk makes her body warmer and she overall makes Dot feel safe when she's around her (HOT/COLD CUDDLING PILE YAYYYYYY)

Going into the more angsty side of things, because of being enrolled in UA and constantly being forced into danger, the entire class 1-A often gets greatly hurt and thrown into Recovery Girl's office and the hospital. Liko would not only often try to help Recovery and/or the doctors and nurses on healing Deku when he gets hurt; which may I remind you, implies HEALING BROKEN ARMS WHICH WERE ALMOST BLOWN UP FROM THE INSIDE OUT, but she would also be really stubborn about healing Dot. But because of Dot's anatomy and her electric powers and stuff, her body requires a lot of energy in order to be properly healed from fatal wounds, and Dot would insist Liko about not trying to heal her and just letting her recover the hard way, since she knows the drawbacks for Liko's quirk. But Liko's so selfless and has so little sense of self-care that she's not stopped by Dot's attempts to make Liko be safe and healthy and heals Dot anyways, who can't really do anything about it since she's on a hospital bed after almost dying. Liko's gonna become super sick and weak after doing that, but don't worry guys Dot's gonna make Liko feel better by having a cuddling session with her on the hospital bed

Elaborating on the cuddling, Liko instinctively craves physical touch as well, since her body's way of self-preservation consists on passively draining other people's energy to make her feel better. So not only would cuddling with Dot make her happy and allow her to generate more energy for both feeling better and healing Dot, but it would also make the energy-draining part much quicker. Liko would have quirk-related trauma from the dangers of the energy absorption and combat properties of her quirk, so at first she would do her utmost effort to get Dot away from her so that she doesn't drain her energy off of her, but Dot would take advantage of her unrestricted form; which she would feel more comfortable with using thanks to Liko and her finding her un-supressed form cute, to keep her from getting out of her arms (I'M NOT NORMAL ABT THESE GIRLS AND THE PHYSICAL TOUCH FLUFF OK I LOVE THEM)

There's much more to this, but some stuff may or may not be too heavy spoilers for certain specific scenes and or story elements, so I feel like this rant serves its purpose.

[hihopelessromantics]

Through the Wall Chapter 2

Nanatsu no Taizai fanfic 

uh here’s part two of this! Let me know your thoughts on this one. we’ve got the perspective of a Weird minor character this time around 

~~~ Human Fortress near present-day Camelot

Nerobasta was biting at her nails and fingers. A horrible habit for a horrible moment, she thought, but she couldn’t help herself. Ah, he had finally taken notice of her, and even trusted her with something he thought was important, but this? How could fate be so cruel? She cursed the traitorous grumpiness and confusion in her heart.

How could she doubt him?

Her charge lifted black eyes to meet hers and glowered, his gaze burning like an Ark. With effort, she repressed a shudder, wrenching her eyes back to the window. Hiding the emotion boiling within.

How could she not?

After all, this was a demon child. An average, filthy (literately, the kid was splattered with dust, a sickening smell of miasma, and blood) demon child, deemed important by her Ludociel? She could barely stomach the notion. Noooooooo.

“A demon prince,” he had said. “He will be an important pawn, so keep a close eye on him.”

She severely doubted it. This kid looked barely old enough to speak intellegently- and if the incident report was of any merit, he had been abandoned by his kin. No one was coming for him. He was at the Goddess Clan’s mercy. But he seemed to understand neither of these things and had alternated between narrowing his eyes at goddesses as if in recognition or giving anyone who attempted to interact with him a thousand-yard stare. He made no move to fight or flee and didn’t even try to ask what his current predicament was. Was he intellegent enough to speak? Nerobasta couldn’t be sure. Whatever was wrong with him, he surely wasn’t going to be suitable for anything but making Nerobasta and the others uncomfortable. Not that they would admit that.

She would do this. For Ludociel, who she admired more than anyone. She would be waiting right here, making sure the little demon stayed put, until Ludociel came to reilieve her of this burden and grace her with another, better responsibility. A command straight from his own lips.

The blue sky outside the tower room called to her. Nerobasta wanted to be on the ground - wanted to feel the warmth of the midday sun eminating from the dirt, a fascinating sensation for one of her kind. The heavens were cold, the only warmth coming from the goddesses themselves. The sweet, pastel colors and brilliant blues and oranges were nothing like what you could find in Britannia.

She figured, perhaps she should say something to the demon.The room where they were situated was a guest room, the style of furniture unfamiliar but tactful, so the demon could assume he was more of an unexpected guest than a prisoner. By the way he sat curled up amongst the pillows, eyes flickering back and forth, she could tell he was uncomfortable. But besides that, she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. If Ludociel had taken pains to assure the demon that he was safe here... well, her anxiety might foil that plan. Her silence ould be interpreted as ominous.

“My name is Nerobasta,” she told him, forcing her eyes away from the window. He seemed not to hear. She rapped her knuckles on the windowframe and cleared her throat. “Are you lost in thought? I don’t blame you, with what just happened. I heard you were rescued from a village in the midst of battle. You must have seen so many unspeakable things...”

He turned his black eyes back on her but did not answer.

“What is your name, little one?” She spoke as sweetly as possible to counter the animosity in his gaze. “I don’t think you’ve said. Do you have one?”

Thousand-yard stare. Gotcha.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Do you speak Common? Or just your language?” After yet another moment of silence, she stepped closer and pointed to her mouth. “Do you. Understand. Common?”

The demon’s expression was contemplative. A nice change from blank and souless, Nerobasta thought, inching ever closer to her unwanted companion.

“If you don’t, I’m afraid I can’t do anything for you. But I hope I can convey... that I don’t want to hurt you. Niether does anyone else here. You’re no threat to us, or anyone. As a goddess, I can understand that.”

Still contemplative.

“I’m not afraid of you like the humans are.”

They sat in silence for an untold amount of time.

A gentle knock at the door drew Nerobasta’s attention. “Who is it?” She asked, incredulous that anyone would come to this tower after Ludociel explained what it held. “I’m not letting you in unless you have permission.”

The voice that answered was sweet and clear. It rang out like a bell signaling dessert was ready. The voice of a fledgling god.

It struck terror into her heart.

“Why, who else, Nerobasta?”

“Your Highness!” Nerobasta exclaimed, rising to her feet on impulse. “What..What are you doing here? I thought you were meeting with the Archangels in the Celestial Realm.”

“Oh, we finished early. There was a lot to discuss, but, you know how efficient we can get. Only took a few hours. So I came here to visit with our human allies, and, well, I heard we’ve got an unusual guest. Ludociel told me it was nothing to concern myself with-” at this Nerobasta almost physically recoiled, knowing that she wasn’t even supposed to be here, “and while I’m sure that’s true, I thought I should be a proper princess as I have the time. You know the other Archangels have trouble with socializing with humans. Heh, they’re so strict, they’ve got everyone on edge whenever they show up! It’s a pity... and I’m concerned the other races are going to see us as... arrogant and untouchable if no one takes the time to actually connect with them. Or at least talk casually with them. You know what I mean, right?”

She didn’t. But she said, “Of course. How dilligent and kind of you to come check on me, but I assure you, our guest and I are just relaxing in here. He might not... take kindly to more interaction than he’s already had to endure, in his state.”

“Ah. Ah, I didn’t think of that,” replied the princess. “No wonder everyone’s so worried... if he’s in a state... well, I’ll leave you be. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

“Be well, Nerobasta. And you, too - whoever you are.”

She listened intently until she heard her footsteps slowly fading. Thank the Supreme Diety. It would have been a complete mess if she had decided to interfere with Ludociel’s plans in any way, and Nerobasta didn’t have the willpower or status to stand up to her. Even for Ludociel’s sake... it just wasn’t possible. Even young and naieve as she was, a girl still growing into her power, Elizabeth was a force to be reckoned with.  

The smile on her face was a real one, of relief, as she spoke to the demon: “Did you hear? The humans are worried about you. Her Highness thinks they’re worried for your health, but, I wouldn’t put any confidence in her ability to read hearts. Nevertheless, with her here, everyone should be more at ease. We won’t have to worry so much about protecting you from them. That’s good news.”

The demon’s answering stare was blank. Her words weren’t meant to reassure him, but she didn’t expect that reaction. Maybe he really didn’t understand her after all.

Casting another practiced smile at him, Nerobasta went back to observing the clouds. Not a moment later, there was a bang on the door. And a hissed whisper: “Nerobasta!”

She couldn’t help but laugh - here she thought she was going to suffer alone. “About time, Asteraoth.” She recognized this voice too - it belonged to a dear friend of hers. She got up to open the door and her friend shoved a platter full of fruit and what she assumed were human lunch foods into her hands. As Nerobasta fumbled with the platter, Asteraoth slipped past her, only to stop in her tracks when she caught sight of the demon.

“Oh, dear. That is... ohhhh, lights above, that does not look - ah - sir - I mean - I don’t know what I mean. Uh. Do you come with a name?”

The expected answer: nothing. Asteraoth continued unperturbed: “Whoever you are, you look like you just walked into - woah, don’t glare at me like that! Are you completely unstable?”

“Confused, more like.” Nerobasta strode back into the middle of the room. “And I think I just figured out why. He doesn’t seem to understand what we’re saying at all. It’s possible he’s mute, but more likely that he just hasn’t learned Common.”

“Wha- so he doesn’t understand what’s going on at all?”

“Mh.” Balancing the tray of food with some effort, Nerobasta hastily set it right next to the demon on the bed.

“What are you doing, Nerobasta? Stand back!”

“He’s merely frightened, not angered with us.” At least, she hoped so. An angry and uncooperative demon would be a hinderance, regardless of his small size and unrecognizable power level.

“Even more reason not to stand so close!” Her friend rebuked her. “Are you so confident that he won’t freak out and attack you?” She reached out and grabbed her hand, her firm grip pulling Nerobasta close to her and away from the demon with barely a hint of effort. Her look of serious concern made the blood rush to Nerobasta’s face. Why was her other hand on her shoulder?

“Please,” she huffed, “I am not afraid in the slightest. Come closer and look at him. He’s no threat - just a child who hasn’t grown into his evil powers. He’s barely even a demon by our standards.”

“You think?” Asteraoth regarded her, then the demon, with a look of restrained horror. Or was it fear? “I sure hope you’re right. Bringing him into the heart of a human stronghold was a risky choice.”

“I’m sure the humans don’t mind at all. Unless you doubt our new superior’s charisma? Heh. Don’t you remember the speech he gave at our initiation? Our collegues basically melted at his feet!” She laughed, the memory of her appointment as a Divine Lance Corporal lightening her mood instantly. She had worked so hard for this.

“Leave it to humans to let a demon into their city just because of charisma.” Her friend’s smile and joking demeanor was quick to fade. “Still... I wish they hadn’t. No good can come from them bringing him here. Should have left him in the Demon Realm and let the demons take care of their own.”

Nerobasta gave her an admonishing look. “We don’t know the state the Underworld is in. It could be a disaster down there. Who’s to say they’ll even notice one missing child?” Asteraoth noticably cringed. No doubt the calls of frightened children were something she had experienced all too often, with all the time she spent down in Britannia fixing the horrid violence that was running rampant at the moment. Why Elizabeth had inspired her to stay on this course, Nerobasta couldn’t understand. She would never part with her squadron - never go out here alone.

“I assure you,” Nerobasta said more gently, “Ludociel did the noble thing by taking him in like this. From here on out, I’m sure, he won’t let anything terrible happen because of it.”

“H-here’s hoping.” Asteraoth looked over at the demon. “Can we at least get him to understand that food is for him?”

“He’ll come to the conclusion on his own.” She put a hand over the one on her shoulder. Instead of backing away or letting go, Asteraoth pulled her into a hug, letting go only to drag her over to the sofa by the window. “Okay. I guess it’s for the best. I mean, I have so much to tell you. You know that prince from that castle over yonder? Oh my stars, why are you making that FACE?”

“This is... like the tenth time you’ve mentioned him. It’s been almost a year since you helped end the war between those two kingdoms and officially finished that mission. I just... I don’t understand why you keep inserting yourself into his life.”

“Nerobasta. I told you. We had a deep connection.”

“He’s a human. Asteraoth, you are hundreds of years older than him. And you will continue to live, thouands of years after he dies. And all the time you’ve spent languishing in that human kingdom will just be forgotten. So I don’t... I don’t understand why you’re doing this to yourself. And I’m worried.”

“Worried?” A flash of emotion like dark thunder crossed her face. ”I’m worried! I can die, too, Nerobasta!”

“What are you talking about?”

As quickly as it came, the fire left her eyes. She sighed. “Things are... fleeting to humans. And, generally, they live and die subject to all sorts of abstract powers that make their lives hell. Still... they give it their all. Even if they don’t have a purpose... living for no greater goal... even if they’re wandering aimlessly through life... they live and they live so... with so much emotion. Being down there with them... it’s taught me a lot. Not just about politics and science and all their little inventions, but, about emotions too.”

“Well, I’m glad, since you seem glad about it,” Nerobasta replied, shock still coursing through her veins. Asteraoth stared at her. Finally, she spoke again, “... Heavens, Asteraoth, I don’t know what else to say.”

They were sitting side-by side, but her friend seemed farther away somehow. “Will you... forget me when I’m gone? Consider me a waste of time?”

“Of course not!” The words sprang from her lips automatically. She swallowed, something bitter and mysterious building up deep inside her. She tried to put as much love into her next words as possible. Asteraoth was her closest friend since childhood. Clinging to her for as long as she could remember. That lonely girl with empty eyes who sat on marble steps and claimed to think of nothing at all as she stared out into the sky, now a woman, who thought about silly things like this. Who said just the damndest things. “How could I? I could never...” her mouth dry as paste, she continued, “Asteraoth, I know I... think the things you say about humans are strange, but, I don’t think a bond like ours could just... be forgotten. What I thought I was - what I was saying is that,” she couldn’t find the words to describe the difference between them and humans, so she settled with, “...you could get really, really hurt if you’re not careful. So be careful, alright?” Don’t forget what you are.

“Right. I’m careful. I don’t intend to succumb to the horrors of war and grief anytime soon.” She took a moment to consider her next words. “You... you don’t make light of things like connection...and life... just because it’s different, right? Just because they’re so different?”

“No. What kind of a goddess would I be if I discriminated like that?” Nerobasta puncuated the remark with a warm smile.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

The demon lounging in the corner of the bed suppressed a laugh.

[fightingthetides]

Ravein wasn’t sure about how he appeared to others from an aesthetic standpoint as he preferred to not be perceived by others in general. Still, he was curious if there were truth to her words. Did others find them pretty and cute? Nunnally certainly fit the bill of pretty and cute, he thought. As for himself? Perhaps cute. It was what his mother would say to him most often when he was young, after all.

He was uncomfortable and on edge, but none of the people looking at them looked familiar, meaning they must’ve been your average civilian. That made things just barely okay for him. If he were on his own, he would have already escaped from the public eye and gone into hiding, but he wasn’t alone. There was Nunnally by his side and their holding hands had somewhat of a grounding affect on his nerves. Her smile was reassuring, and her attempt at comforting him went noticed.

Each time, he would learn something new, or remember something long since forgotten when he spends time with her. It made each encounter an enlightening experience for him, learning more of what life had to offer. Now, he was remembering just how lonely he was and how much it truly impacted him. Humans were meant to be social creatures, and though he’d gone numb to the feeling of loneliness, it didn’t mean that the pain of being alone wasn’t there. It had simply fallen asleep in the dark recesses of his mind that he suppressed them into.

With the flood gates open, the full weight of how lonely and scared he’d been for years come out in the form of tears. It was a truly painful and sorrowful feeling, and it would be a lie to say that he didn’t hate it. It hurt, and it was scary to feel such strong emotions again after so many years of repressing and denying.

Admittedly, it was a bit embarrassing to be crying out in public as he was, and they were certainly bound to attract more attention now than ever. People were usually nosey creatures, wanting to know the story behind something, and seeing a grown man crying warranted all the curiosities of any passing people.

The hand that gently wiped his tears felt caring, somehow, and he couldn’t help but lean into the comfort it provided. It didn’t seem like his crying was going to stop any time soon, so he only nods at her question to moving to a more secluded place. The piercing eyes of the curious onlookers weren’t doing him any good. He just wanted to focus on the moment of feeling like he wasn’t alone with someone he trusted rather than to be overly aware of the stares he was receiving from others. He takes the initiative, letting her go from the embrace to lead the way to take them to somewhere more secluded, away from curious gazes.

Once he’d led them aware to somewhere more secluded, he’d hugged her again, burying his face into her shoulder. He just wanted to let the moment sink in, and enjoy it for what it was. The tears? Still free-falling. His heart? It was doing something, but he didn’t understand what. He just knew that it hurt but also felt full at the same time, as odd as it may sound.

Oh! So, that was a problem. Too many pedestrians looking at them. That came as a surprise; Nunnally would not expect that friendly looks (as she did consider them more friendly than not) might cause anxiety in Ravein. But she should have guessed that the perception of the environment had to change if one was on a constant run.

“I think they just find us pretty. And cute.” – this wasn’t meant to dismiss his concerns; rather to point out that she suddenly liked the thought of them being together – “People often smile when they see something they like.” – was that what she really wanted to say? – “I mean… I guess…I just…” – Nunnally couldn’t really put her thoughts into proper words – “I am not sure how to explain it.” – she finally admitted – “But I understand that I am more likely to be wrong here then not.” – she smiled – “We should do as you feel is right. I…I don’t mind. I’ll follow your guidance.”

Though it turned out that there was little time for guidance as other things turned out to be more pressing. Her shy (but perhaps also awkward) hug had triggered something in Ravein. Nunnally didn’t know what to expect when she withdrew from their hug; but the young woman suddenly became embarrassed with her actions and feelings. And then Ravein fully and simply replicated her gesture. Now she was hold tightly in his embrace and that felt good. Safe. Warm. She didn’t remember (or she didn’t want to admit that to herself) when she felt so peaceful in someone's arms for the last time.

Nunnally didn’t have much romantic experience (and neither she truly wanted them too much), but Ravein was giving her feelings and thoughts that were so n e w to her. That were making her yearn for something she didn’t have. But she didn’t understand them. She didn’t know what they meant, especially given Ravein's and hers complicated situation. And Nunnally didn’t want to overthink all that. Talking would probably destroy that moment and that unexpected intimacy between the two lonely creatures. So, she simply leaned into Ravein’s touch; her body now pressed against his. She just wanted to stand there, think about nothing, and let them simply enjoy whatever they both found in each other’s arms. The world around them disappeared for her; there was only him and her, Ravein and Nunnally, and the bond between them.

She was so deep in her own confusing feelings that in the first few moments (or perhaps it was much longer), she didn’t realize he was crying. Was it a single tear that wetted her cheek or her shoulder that let Nunnally know about Ravein? Whatever it was, it made Nunnally slightly loosen her grip around him and rise her head (though she only took as much room as she needed to look at his face): --

“...”

“…R-ravein…” – that was a soft whisper; perhaps laced with a slight surprise. But it was not Nunnally’s intention to comment on anything she was seeing. She appreciated it much more than she could express with words; that he opened so much in front of her. To her? She reached her hand and wiped his tears gently. It was almost like caressing his cheek. She could hardly breath not sure if her touch is welcomed, or rather opposite, but in that moment she had to try. She’d understand (and truly would not feel hurt) if he refused to her touch.

“Shall we move…to a more secluded place?” – she did hope he’d understand.

[bratz-kitten]

random thoughts on the moon signs

moon in pisces is literally my favorite placement ever. something about these people makes me feel safe. as a capricorn moon, i repress my emotions constantly and i’m deadly afraid of showing vulnerability, but pisces moons give off this vibe of constantly being consumed by their emotions – and it’s fascinating. you make me feel like it’s okay to express my deeply emotional side; even better, you encourage it. you’re the type of people who i love crying with while eating ice cream, even cuddling with. your empathy and passion for your interests is your biggest strength.

moon in aquarius reminds me of that shrek quote of him being an onion – you guys have layers upon layers upon layers. my brother is an aquarius moon and sometimes i feel like i’m the only person who knows how emotional he really is. you hate showing this part of yourself – it’s hidden safely from prying hands; you racionalize your emotions, repress them, attempt to conceal them; but ultimately, your deeply compassionate and intuitive nature will be shown – even if only to the very few you trust. your dreams are your biggest strength.

i have never met a cancer moon without raging mommy issues yet who was deeply attached to their mother. you always share this very close bond and she’s very present in your life – yet its so obviously this very toxic dynamic. you guys get this fame for being the only ones with ‘stable’ emotions because your moon is exalted but you’re like.. not. your emotions aren’t stable; much on the contrary, and even if you’re very emotional, you don’t particularly like showing it. most of the cancer moons i’ve known are iffy about expressing their feelings. you joke a lot about your trauma, though, and so you give people the impression of knowing you when really, they don’t know the half of it.

moon in sagittarius makes it feel like life is worth living. you dream so much and so high; you’re so open about your love for adventure and freedom, so optimistic and fun-loving – to the point where most people don’t understand how turbulent your emotions are underneath the façade. you give off the vibe of the funny friend who’s depressed and afraid to show it because you’re supposed to be the one who raises the spirits. doesn’t it hurt when you try opening up to others and they almost seem bothered by it because they prefer it when you’re just this bubble of fun? you need to learn to take that weight off your shoulders – stop trying to entertain others and realize that they’re the ones who need to entertain you. this is your show, baby. your resilience is your strength.

is it possible to be a capricorn moon without having strict parents and a terrible childhood in which you had to raise yourself? because i think it’s kind of a given. it’s so funny how literally everyone sees you as this cold, unemotional, strong person yet you probably cry everyday. a lot of problems with self-worth every time you’re in a bad place mentally, which is constantly. extremely calculating – you always do shit with a clear purpose in mind and it can come off like you’re using people for your own gains. your ability to survive even unsurmountable odds stacked up against you is your strength. i almost feel like you thrive on pain because that’s how you’ve learned to grow and adapt.

moon in aries people are so smart, and most of all, dedicated. you make me want to get my life together so bad – you’re the type of people to set a goal and go through with it no matter what. you’re always on to something, looking for opportunities and recognition. you see what you want and you go for it. you’re so easy to rile up and lose it, though, it’s so funny how you’re so bold and passionate yet so big of a crybaby (all aries placements are tbh).

moon in scorpio stop being so pessimistic pleathe i will kiss you in the lips just don’t lose your faith in humanity /yet/. trust is the most important thing in the world to you which is funny because you have raging trust issues. so sensitive but you cover that up with anger. you be looking like you wanna commit sporadic murder when on the inside you’re just so hurt. you’re so dependable, things might be in deep shit but as soon as you’re in the room i know we’ll find a way to fix it. if the l*ve of my life doesn’t end up being a scorpio moon i’ll be so pissed.

moon in leo YOU’RE SO INFURIATING PLEASE SHUT UP OR I’LL FUCK YOU??????? massive egos, you know you’re the shit and you won’t shut up about it. likes to start arguments just to rile everyone up and then laugh maniacally in the corner at the chaos they created. always have a wicked plan in mind and i’ll go along with it because you’re also stupidly endearing. the best friends, literally always there when you’re down and sosososo supportive. i’ve noticed that feeling insecure is quite possible the worst thing you can feel, it’ll start to take a toll on your physical health. your ability to be a fucking idiot but also a /pretty/ idiot is your biggest strength.

moon in virgo if you say “well actually, that’s not how that works” one more time i’ll throw hands. incredibly nit-picky and obsessive but also the types of people to have a pile of dirt on their room?? mom friend, WILL take care of her babies/friends. you always ruin the mood yet.. you’re so fun to be around? how does that even work? i could listen to you talk for hours. i don’t think you know what the concept of relaxation is. also pleathe stop with that need to fix others. the fact that you’re so focused on your goals and willing to do just about anything is your biggest strength (it’s also kinda scary).

my mom’s moon is in libra and ma’am can you please stop transferring your mommy issues onto me? i get it, you had a codependent relationship with her and she showed you she loved you while also constantly criticising you and treating you like an extension of herself. my bestie is a libra moon too and it’s also like that. just.. mommy issues and insecurities for days. a passion 4 fashion and people love to be around you. also, i can’t understand how you feel. like, you’ll cry a lot and love so hard yet when you break up with someone you’ll never spare a thought about them again? it’s almost like you can turn your feelings off. which is funny, because that’s supposed to be a capricorn moon thing but i’ve never met one who can stop caring, they just act like they’re heartless to protect themselves. either way, libra moons can switch from sweethearts to cold and aggressive in a literal second and it’s scary but also cool.

moon in gemini please don’t ever shut up you have so much to say, your interests are so fascinating and the way you talk with so much passion about literally anything makes my heart do the flippy thing. also so complicated, can you name one person in this world who fully knows and comprehends you? very secretive, people feel like they know you because you talk a lot and are very open about certain things but as soon as something actually serious happens you turn into allison dilaurentis real quick.

moon in taurus why are you so pretty? you’re so extra too, you always leave the house looking straight off the runaway. you’re literally so caring for your friends and overprotective too, possessive of even them. you prioritize comfort a lot, wether it be on your home or concerning yourself. you’re very good with people, i feel like you’re the ex that your ex-boyfriend’s mom doesn’t ever shut up about because she misses you and wants you to be The one. you need to learn that change isn’t the enemy!! change is fundamental for personal growth. hold grudges for a crazy amount of time. very weird sense of humor, in an oddly endearing way. your mentality of “if they’ve hurt you, they’ve hurt me too” is your biggest strength.

[morsking]

uhhhhhh to better grasp why rin is a host for both ishtar and ereshkigal and why sakura is a host for both kama and parvati you’re gonna have to read the vn since that is the only place where you will be treated to the different dimensions of both their characters and dispel any illusions and misunderstandings the ubw anime created (about rin in particular). i can explain it well but if you have the ability to, you should read the vn to really let it sink in and appreciate things more organically.

there are times in the anime where rin feels like a caricature of herself since she appears so confident and fun-loving and tsundere about it (the vn sometimes does this too but manages to balance things out a little better) that it overshadows how rin is also in her own way extremely repressed. 

rin, while fashioning herself the ruler of her own world and a competent genius is still someone shackled to her duty as the last living tohsaka heir and denies herself a more profound and fundamental happiness because she reasons so long as she is the tohsaka heir, she can never be sakura’s sister, and wrongfully believes that sakura has moved on without her and belongs with the matous oblivious to what zouken has done to sakura for almost 11 years because it’s easier to think that sakura doesn’t care about her anymore than to confront all she’s taught and has lived for for so long is wrong and that she has a chance to make it right. rin however finds ways to keep running into sakura just enough that her true desires betray her efforts at keeping her distance, and if sakura just said “you are my sister, please let’s live together again” no doubt rin would be so torn to hesitate yet so hopeful to as to want it to be real. 

rin’s apparent emotional independence and reputation is a product of her purposefully distancing herself from making any real human connections because she has no idea how to be emotionally available from years of stifling aristocratic conditioning. if she puts herself on a pedestal, it’s easier for others to not approach her and see through her facade. apart from that, as much fun as rin could possibly have by herself there is still something that will keep her from feeling truly fulfilled, and that’s the lack of opportunity (and emotional bravery) to reconcile with sakura. it’s also easier to forsake sakura and threaten to kill her when she’s out of control because acknowledging the horror of killing her own sister would break her own convictions and denounce her, and the tohsakas, as murderers and frauds. ishtar is that side of rin that finds being herself and living as the person in charge of her own existence. ereshkigal is the unhappy part of rin that yearns for more than what she’s been given but feels too guilty and too bound by responsibility to seek it out, and therefore denies herself her wish to connect with the person who would make all the difference in the world (sakura for rin, guda for eresh). 

sakura is a naturally kind, gentle, yet strong-willed individual who has experienced that which would break and utterly annihilate most at a spiritual level. sakura only survived what she did because her mental fortitude, much like shirou’s, is so exceptional she will always retain her sense of self even if pushed to the very brink of suffering. despite that, she grew up extremely bitter, depressed, and with a disposition that utterly gave up on the world that abandoned her to the point where she wished others to fail and suffer at whatever they endeavored. if her life was pointless and fruitless as to be thrown away, why shouldn’t everyone else’s be too? 

it’s really not until she met shirou that she began to change her mind and desire to have more than just numbness. a boy who just wouldn’t give up no matter how many times he couldn’t clear that jump, and accepted the outcome without regrets, second-thoughts, and self-loathing left such a deep impression on sakura that she wanted that thoughtless drive to live freely and greet tomorrow as a given to be hers as well. 

little by little the broken doll with lifeless eyes restored more and more of her inner kindness and good faith, both because she gained a will that did more than just curse, and because there was someone who showed her what a real home, a real family looked like so she’d believe in love and happiness again. but much like rin, sakura struggled to believe she deserved happiness. years of abuse crushed sakura’s self-esteem, and thought her suffering made her unlovable and unnatural. her desire to be both loved and pitied clashed against one another, and were also contradictingly one and the same. it would be easy to be pitied, that means she would’ve been right about her hatefulness all along and she can just fade away along with the pain her baggage might’ve caused others. but if she’s loved, then how will she ever make herself worthy of it? how could she ever justify to herself that she’s being given love that hasn’t been earned? and even worse, what if she’s given love that can be lost?

sakura hides all the things that risk her losing all the love she’s accumulated, a desperate selfish tactic employed by a scared girl deathly afraid to lose the only light she’s ever known. if all her anger, bitterness, cowardice, jealousy, scars, and self-hatred were exposed, what would shirou think of her? once he does find out what she’s gone through, she pushes him away. she really believes she’s done for and has nothing else to come back to. even as shirou keeps asserting he does still want her in his life, she keeps hurling all the terrible things she’s done to him and herself without him knowing: that because he’s kiritsugu’s kid she spied on him for zouken, that she used him to run away from zouken and shinji, that she tried to kill herself, that she’s not a virgin, all to get him to reject her for good while guiltily clinging to the hope that he will still choose to love her in spite, or because of all that.

even after sakura’s killed shinji by accident and transforms into dark sakura, a part of herself is weak towards shirou. a part of herself lashes out when he’s around because she’s still rejecting him hoping he’ll forsake her so he’ll live without getting hurt by her while also begging for him to see how much she’s suffering so he’ll save her, going so far at the end that she tells rin to run away with shirou, having decided to kill herself alongside the grail. rin however, sees through sakura’s attempt to earn pity, but in her own fit of duty-induced forced apathy threatens to kill sakura herself before sakura has the chance to wipe herself out (jesus, rin) rather than comfort her and tell her she wishes for her to live. rin though fails to follow through with her plan. just as she overpowers sakura, she throws away all her lies and embraces her sister, telling her how she really feels, and the very first sincere expression of love her sister has shown her in a decade is enough for sakura to stop dead in her tracks and crumble in grief until shirou arrives to save her and insist that she deserves to live so that all the suffering she both caused and experienced and all the people she devoured can be given meaning. this parallels into how kama as beast iii/L wishes to render all love obsolete by drowning the universe in love to the point where all love becomes meaningless and kama no longer has to be hurt by love, with their defeat marking a change in their beliefs about the world and themself.

parvati tells you as much that she’s taken over sakura’s good side. she’s the earnest hardworking woman who is full of benevolence and enthusiasm after her purpose has become clear. however, what parvati doesn’t understand is that sakura’s good qualities are intermixed with her darker ones and fundamentally cannot ever be truly separated, and that’s why parvati also connects with sakura’s tendency to hide the ugly things about herself out of fear she’ll be rejected, and that it’s wrong and harmful for her to do that to sakura as much (if not worse) as it is for sakura to do it for herself alongside all the people that could be affected by that dishonesty. 

apart from the obvious gross reasons, there is in fact a good justification for kama’s ascensions in fgo. their ascensions go from child to adolescent to adult to demonstrate that kama has a parallel to sakura’s personal growth. they are both individuals who, after being betrayed by their own kind (the gods and the tohsakas) and having their bodies destroyed (kama becoming the cosmos, sakura being devoured by crest worms and having her dna rewritten), have lost faith in who they were before and the world around them. kama starts out in sakura’s child body: the young girl who was sacrificed for a greater purpose and whose heart has been filled with depression, cynicism, and hatred for the world around her. their childish disposition however, marks that kama has truly been reborn and is going through the process of recreating their identity after it was shattered by trauma. 

when kama is in sakura’s adolescent form, that signals that much like sakura around that age, they still cling to some anger and bitterness, but have begun to ease into forming new connections and their desire to be identified with love becomes complicated as it is both heavily resisted yet profoundly wanted. it is kama at their peak self-loathing, directing hatred to themself as much as their child form did to everyone else.

when kama shifts into sakura’s final adult form, it marks the period where they both have had some of their faith renewed in their existence. while it is still very difficult for them to truly know what love is and whether or not they’ve earned it, they nonetheless make it clear they want to believe in it again with the help of the person they’ve placed their trust upon (shirou for sakura, guda for kama). as the god of love, for kama to learn what love is is for kama to once more understand what it is to love themself again, and like sakura at the end of heaven’s feel finish constructing their brand new identity and move forward in a way that their happiness and reforged self-confidence can dignify their suffering and make up for all the damage they caused others and themselves.

this isn’t to say that pseudos as a concept are inherently good or anything. they are still very flawed because when mishandled for fanservice (and it happens a LOT) they do far more to displease both fans of the mythological figures and fans of the original fate/stay night characters simultaneously than to appease them both by robbing all characters involved of their complexities. regardless, that doesn’t mean that these gods wearing the faces of these girls is entirely pointless, lazy, and thoughtless. on the contrary, these girls were chosen because of all the different facets they have that match their possessors’ demeanors and themes, and i hope that this knowledge can help people see the connection with more clarity.

[jennycalendar]

ok you know what i think it’s actually really vital that i talk a little bit about tea time. buckle up kiddos.

first off, a brief and relatively spoiler-free summary: the premise of the issue is very simple. the kiddos (aged up, if willow’s mention of being engaged is any indication) are hanging out in the library to help giles with research, swapping stories about what it would be like were giles a vampire. each of them, save giles, gets a chance to tell a detailed story -- xander tells two! -- and each story plays out in a way that says a lot about the scooby that’s telling it AND the way they view giles.

obviously this is a VERY character-driven issue, and it’s a really really interesting look at giles and how he is perceived as well! shit like that is my bread and butter, so this has honestly become one of my favorite things that boom has put out -- possibly my ACTUAL top favorite issue if we’re being real here. 

below the cut is a spoilery dissection of every story told -- a literal summary of Every Single Thing that happens in this issue, as well as what it has to say about the scoobies and their perception of giles, so definitely keep that in mind.

as can be seen in the preview, xander’s first story is about giles rising from the grave as an ineffectual british caricature, who is easily defeated by smoldering, sexy xander harris (and xander in turn walks off with buffy and willow draped all over him, cooing about how amazing he is). it’s more of an intro to the premise than anything, but it still sets the tone pretty clearly wrt how xander handles this situation: there’s some laughter and levity, and he’s center stage. obviously a lot can be said about xander’s self-esteem issues and how he overcompensates by casting himself as the main protagonist both in canon and here. however, i wanna save my more in-depth xander analysis for his second, longer, story, so i’ll stop myself there.

willow immediately responds with skepticism: she’s of the mind that giles would be an incredibly serious big-bad level threat. the tale she spins involves giles as a dangerous vampire cleric with access to a cryptic altar, killing xander almost immediately and slaughtering buffy as a sacrifice to create eternal night. her view of giles is more clinical than anything -- and, i would argue, the most perceptive and realistic from a threat standpoint. the guy knows a fuckton of magic and he is incredibly well-read and powerful. he’d have some kind of terrifying master plan. where xander goes for comedy, willow goes straight for logistics, already looking at the battle like it’s a battle rather than laughs aplenty. 

xander and buffy have a bone to pick with willow’s story (xander is indignant that he’s immediately and brutally killed, buffy is of the mind that she would easily defeat giles in hand-to-hand combat even if he IS a vampire), so (after one more teasing story where buffy lives and xander dies) willow gracefully alters her narrative to reflect her friends’ objections: after a dramatic tussle, xander helps willow and buffy unceremoniously stakes giles in the heart. still pretty straightforward and plausible. willow sees vamp giles primarily as a threat -- one not easily neutralized. one who could easily wipe them out.

buffy, about to tell her story, is interrupted by xander, who “had an even better idea!” the web he weaves is this time purported as realistic and entertaining: while partying at the bronze, buffy and co. are interrupted by a bunch of balding, greying vampires in curlers and bathrobes, led, of course, by giles -- who is wearing a hair bonnet and disapprovingly informing the bouncers how late it is at eight PM. a knockdown brawl breaks out at the bronze -- old people feeding on and decimating the young -- and culminates in giles and the geezers taking over the band to sing “some terrible song” that’s “probably something really old and bad!” the rest of the story descends into b-movie chaos, with buffy throwing a broken guitar neck up at the stage lights to send the whole thing crashing down onto vampire giles and his vampire old person band. it’s categorically absurd.

the thing that really sticks with me about this story is how dumb it is. xander’s take on giles is not even slightly serious and wholly underestimates him. fandom at large talks a lot about how giles dropped the ball with xander, but i think tea time explores an easily overlooked factor: xander constantly, consistently underestimates giles. in canon, xander’s view of giles is not often challenged: to him, giles is a bumbling, british librarian who regularly gets his ass handed to him by vamps and demons and the like. certainly part of his story’s intent is about laughingly entertaining his gal pals, but there’s a very real and consistent thread involving giles being hilariously nonthreatening. 

giles, taking umbrage at this particular tale, calls out both xander and willow: xander’s story, in giles’s opinion, emasculates vamp giles and turns him into a ridiculous caricature -- and willow’s story, though much more flattering, lacks the kind of imagination that vamp giles would clearly have. he then offers a suggestion of his own. it’s worth mentioning here that both xander’s and willow’s stories get gorgeous multiple-page spreads depicting the vampy action, but giles’s is a simple and chilling little thing: this is his vampire story. this meeting, called to ostensibly “research” a vampire altar, is really an excuse to get the scoobies to do his dirty work and find the thing for him. they’re tired and silly because the tea and donuts he’s given them are drugged, and their library location is to keep them out of daylight. he laughs it off when he sees they’re bothered, and the meeting is then adjourned when willow finally finds what they’re all looking for. 

buffy’s left her phone in the library, so she doubles back, and accidentally wakes up a dozing giles. just as she’s about to leave, he inquires, casually, “...you never did tell your version of the story.”

and good god here is where it gets interesting.

see, buffy’s take is simple: she’s fighting giles in a cemetery, she’s given the chance to kill him, and she is entirely unable to do it. they share a tearful embrace as she sobs about the unfairness of it all -- “you’re giles! and you’ll always be! ...how will i do this without you? without your guidance?” and as the sun is rising, giles turns her into a vampire, with no resistance whatsoever from buffy. the next handful of pages depict bloody, indulgent violence on the parts of giles and buffy, the two of them cuddled up together as they watch the world burn. 

buffy’s tale is the most emotive, the most loving, which makes me so damn soft! i love this girl so much! she is unable to even joke about giles as a foe to be taken down -- he is her watcher. he is her friend. she loves him endlessly and that does not change when he’s a vampire. vamp giles as she portrays him is gentle and understanding, holding her as she cries, because he knows that they’re connected. it’s easily my favorite part of this whole issue.

notably, there is a definite buffy/giles bend that the comic itself tries to contradict. the art is sensual in nature -- vamp buffy all dolled up in a way somewhat evocative of drusilla, giles tenderly caressing her face as he waits for her to wake up. “watcher and slayer connected forever” being the quote chosen to describe the situation. i think it’s kind of what naturally happens in a vamp giles sitch, especially if he turns buffy -- the childe/sire bond is incredibly sexual in nature, especially in canon, and a lot of frustrating human sentiment gets translated into something sexual as well. sex is a big BIG part of the relationships between vampires we see in canon; it would make a lot of sense for that to hold true for buffy and giles.

the comic is reticent about Going There, which i can understand -- though buffy is decisively aged up in this issue (willow mentions being engaged to a woman, later revealed to be tara), the buffy/giles bond is always seen through a father/daughter lens in canon. i do think it’s also important to always recognize how desperately giles wishes to escape the label of father in reference to buffy, pretty much entirely because there is no way to parent a child soldier who you’re also training, but that’s a whole other kettle of fish. point is, buffy very pointedly refers to vamp giles as her father not once, but twice -- once as a human, once as a vampire herself. it’s a very clear attempt, imo, to un-sexualize the vampy experience. the reason it doesn’t totally work, at least for me, is the fact that -- like i said -- the childe/sire bond is VERY sexual (spike and dru, angel and darla, angel and dru) and it seems just totally implausible that vamp buffy/vamp giles (two people who, as human were both VERY repressed) would chastely remain within the socially acceptable version of their relationship.

i can definitely understand why they did their best to blur that line, though. the idea of buffy and giles being romantically involved as vampires is 1) Kind Of A Lot and 2) not exactly the target demographic that i think this comic is going for. but the subtext is there, to the point where the issue itself has to actively obfuscate it, which i think is .... so interesting? especially as a counterpoint to the way i often see buffy/giles in fandom, wherein the father/daughter subtext in canon is at times actively obfuscated in fic in an attempt to push a preferred reading. 

the ending i particularly enjoyed: after buffy leaves, it is lightly and ambiguously implied that giles might really be a vampire. works GREAT as a standalone, imo, and the end is like the cherry on top. it’s a really REALLY interesting issue and i highly recommend it for any giles fan. 

[brightly-painted-canvas]

How does it feel? (drabble, The Old Guard - Andy & Nicky)

I had this vignette sitting in my heart for a few days and I figured out I should write it down before I ended up losing its warmth. I am a sucker for fics about Andy’s and Nicky’s relationship and this is somehow a small attempt at describing how they communicate, even over a difficult topic like mortality.

.

It’s morning. Early and quiet.

Andy is sneaking inside the safehouse from the back door, sure she’d be the only one up at this hour until she rounds the corner and sees Nicky at the kitchen table, kneading bread with swift but vigorous movements.

She quickly considers her options: Nicky has for sure noticed her already, so heading toward her room without saying ‘hello’ doesn’t sit right. She also had wanted a cup of coffee to wash down the stale taste of alcohol sitting under her tongue after a long night of cheap drinks, so the kitchen had to be a brief stop before hitting the bed.

 She quietly steps inside, scanning the situation: flour stains are all around the main surfaces, the oven is already turned on and a fragrant smell of sweet baking cookies is filling the air of the small room.

Nicky doesn’t even lift his head, he just fixes his big, pale eyes on her and smiles that minute smile of his.

“Coffee?” he asks, his deep soothing voice still rough with sleep.

Andy nods once and Nicky is already moving, briefly wiping his hands on a clean dishrag before reaching the cupboard for a mug. The family-size moka he insists on keeping in almost all the safehouses they use more frequently is already filled with blessedly warm, bitter coffee.

She sits on one of the kitchen table’s chairs, near the momentarily abandoned bread dough.

Once he has placed the mug in front of her, she grins and says: “You’re a saint.”

He snorts.

It’s an inside joke between them: she doesn’t believe in anything holy. He doesn’t anymore (maybe).

But if there ever was anything worth calling sainted in Andy’s long life, it would always somehow be related to her Nicolò.

He wouldn’t agree, of course.

  Nicky gets back to his task of kneading bread to perfection, quiet and precise, like all of his movements.

Andy sips her coffee and enjoys the silence, the brief interruptions dictated by the oven’s ticking and the bread’s slamming over and over on the table’s board.

She observes Nicky’s profile like she has done so many times before, noticing his somehow always disheveled hair having grown a bit too long, the dark circles under his eyes having deepened in the last months, enhancing the tiny white scar under his left eye, the one connected to the cut on his mesophrium and over his right brow.

He was never specific about his life before his first death, but Andy somehow knows the story behind that long scar. She remembers the feelings she had in reaction to that lighthearted confession he uttered: disbelief and outrage.

After all her years wandering the Earth, that tiny information still had her despair about humanity, its obstinacy in bringing suffering to its own, repressing and oppressing what is pure and good and beautiful.

What she hates the most has always been feeling powerless in the face of injustice.

But if Nicolò may once have been a scared, vulnerable boy, he wasn’t anymore.

Andy’s gaze lingers on his strong arms, his wide shoulders, the set of his angular jaw, the muscles moving under his pale skin: he is a remarkably powerful man now, her brother. A forever 30 years old warrior who died in his prime, never to be seen aging and wilted if not for many, many years to this day. And not by her, it seems.

“Couldn’t sleep?” she asks, breaking their prolonged silence.

Nicky hums, a singular small sound, affirmative.

“What’s on your mind?” she follows, knowing all too well it’s pointless: Nicky never answers these questions if he can avoid it, if it’s someone else other than Joe asking, if Joe somehow doesn’t know already.

This time as well, he shifts his gaze to meet hers and smiles, tiredly but reassuringly.

Andy prides herself to be able to read all her brother’s tiny reactions, unsaid truths, hidden emotions: Nicolò may be the hardest one to read, but she has always managed.

She doesn’t know it as deeply as Yusuf, but she understands his core in her own way.

She uncurls her hand from around the mug’s handle and places it upon Nicky’s dusted with flour’s one, which immediately stills over soft bread dough.

Their eyes are still locked and Andy thinks back at all the times she had read deep into these pools of grey mist and green waters, threading out his emotions like a Moira spinning a seafoam yarn.

When he’s this particular type of quiet, unguarded and open, she can read him like a well-known piece of poetry, an ancient song.

“How does it feel?” he asks, and Andy feels like flinching, but he already has his warm hand turned, cupping her smaller one, resting the tips of his fingers on her wrist like it’s a casual position, not a subtle way to feel her life pulsing.

Oh, she thinks. Oh, my sweet one.

They hadn’t had time yet to talk about any of it.

They had to run and hide and let the dust settle, had to decide over the consequence of Booker’s actions, had to figure out Copley, had to wait for her to heal for the first time in forever, had to care about Nile.

Nicky had only had time to exhale a tiny sigh while still strapped on a medical bed, give his wise speech over immortality (wasted on the obtuse mind of an already dead man), ask her if she felt like facing yet another tiring battle.

He had accepted everything that came after with his usual grace, his absolute faith: trusted her leadership without faltering once over almost one thousand years, shielded her with his body like it was meant to be used that way, sacrificed yet some more pain, another death, to survival.

They had yet to talk about it, like they always do somehow in some way at some point, the two of them.

In their long, silent moments shared, just like this one, they always end up talking about what matters the most.

“I feel finite.” she replies, smiling privately at her beloved little brother.

He smiles back and Andy knows he has tricked her once again: he has let her in only to be able to see her in return, to gaze into her soul. Her clever, smart little brother.

She truly envies how effortlessly he manages to do that.

“It’s good.” she adds. She lifts her hand from his soft grip, caressing up his arm to his shoulder, the side of his face, the tip of his too long ash brown hair.

He lets her touch him gently, strokes the skin under his eye with her thumb, and holds the side of his head in her palm.

You are mine: my kin, my family, she tells him, through her silence. I will leave you, but you’ll always have me. I am right here.

“Finally.” she sighs, contentedly, conveying her calmness with her touch, the long awaited peace to her eternal inner turmoil now right there, close to the surface: she has a time now.

She doesn’t have to long for an end that never comes, anymore.

  His smile is a blessed thing, once again: a brief glance at unfiltered grace, the purity of a cherished soul she saw growing, learning, mending, finding its purpose and balance.

She is old and tired, but her love for this one will always bring her back to her primitive emotions, her loyalty, her animal instinct of offering and receiving protection.

She often recalls with amusement having been worshipped as a god, in the past: she had with Nile, right after meeting her. She sometimes thinks about what those ancient, forgotten people would had said and done for her Quỳnh, her Yusuf, her Nicolò. Her Sébastien and her Nile.

She’s sure they would have fallen for this remarkable man’s eyes like they did with hers, with his secret smiles and gentle voice. Worshipped his proud profile and handsome body in a manner that would have made Yusuf bristle with jealousy, exactly like he did back in the Renaissance, when a bit too many artists had their greedy eyes on the classical features of the other half of his soul.

She chuckles low, lost in her silly thoughts. Nicky doesn’t ask, but looks glad to see mirth on her face.

  The oven rings and Andy lets her baby brother go with a last stroke of his soft hair. He moves his head just enough to place a small, grateful kiss on the skin of her fingers.

“Let me get you those biscotti, they should be perfect with coffee.” he says, turning around to open the oven: warmth engulfs the tiny kitchen and Andy is sure it won’t take long for Joe and Nile to wake up now, following the sweet scent of food with rumbling stomachs, like the puppies they not-so-secretly are.

It means her quiet time shared with Nicky is coming to an end.

She accepts a plate of still hot cookies with a satisfied hum that turns into a shameless moan once she tastes the first one: “You’re my favourite!” she exclaims, like she often does in these cases.

“You don’t have favourites, remember?” he smirks, getting back to his softened bread dough.

“That doesn’t sound like me at all.” she smiles with mischief, gulping down some more coffee, as heavy steps start resounding from the floor above them, down the stairs, and Joe’s voice calling for his husband heralds his appearance at the kitchen’s door.

.

Hope you enjoyed! Sorry for any mistake, English is not my first language.

I’m on Ko-fi!

[pyroclastic727]

Luz is kinda right to be oblivious

I know you all are relentlessly teasing Luz for being completely oblivious to Amity’s clear romantic advances. And while you definitely have a point, Luz isn’t entirely wrong to do this. Luz’s assumption that her and Amity are just friends is her way of protecting herself and Amity.

Let’s start by laying out the scenario from Luz’s POV. You’re a human from another realm who visits a magic realm. There you meet a bunch of amazing people, but one lettuce-headed blushy mess sticks out to you. You start doing all these favors for her, things you would only do for Eda and King in the past. She returns a few of them. Then she starts getting comfortable around you, where she feels good enough to hug you and stuff. Well, then there’s this dance, and she doesn’t ask you out, and she feels bad because she’s afraid of being rejected by the person she does want to ask out. 

Well, duh, of course Amity likes her! But Luz has quite a few things to disprove that.

First off, we’ll start with the psychology that makes this possible. (This is what happens when the analysis blog takes a psych class). There’s this thing called confirmation bias, which I’d say a good proportion of you are familiar with. For those that aren’t: if you have a preconceived opinion, you’re more likely to look for things that support that, rather than those that disprove it. Everyone uses this all the time. Usually it’s fairly harmless, but when in the wrong hands, it is a powerful tool that can be used to influence elections and such.

In Luz’s case, her confirmation bias comes from good evidence. Any wlw who has actually lived on Earth knows that it’s dangerous to assume your friend likes you. First off, there’s the selfish aspect of it (you know, the “who am I to assume that I’m cool enough for someone to have a crush on me? You can’t control those things!”). Second, there’s the fact that straight girls on Earth can be very affectionate. One of my straight friends kissed me twice until I asked her to stop because I did not want to fall for her. In Luz’s mind, Amity could easily be one of those touchy straight girls. So of course she’s looking for evidence to stockpile and convince herself that Amity doesn’t like her like that.

And there sure is a lot of evidence to stockpile.

To start with, Luz doesn’t think she knows Amity that well. I mean, the girl has been to Luz’s house twice. They haven’t had a lot of time to spend together. And even their dates have been sporadic: Luz took her top student badge so Amity watched her get dissected, Luz and Amity fought to what should have been their death, Luz almost got Amity killed at the library, Luz almost got Amity’s friends killed at the Knee, Amity almost got Luz’s friend killed, and then they danced. That’s it. As for the rest of Amity’s life...that’s largely a mystery. Luz didn’t figure out that Amity’s parents are abusive until last episode! Amity was actively avoiding her on the first day (hiding out in the halls and such), so who knows what she was doing then? And she spends a lot of time with rich kids: what if one of them was her crush? There’s a lot of Amity’s life that Luz can leave up to her imagination.

Secondly, Amity has shown Luz explicit proof of liking non-girls. Particularly, Malingale the Soothsayer. While their gender was never confirmed, Malingale seems to be male or nonbinary. With Luz, this could be some extra proof of not liking girls.

Okay, well how has she not even noticed all of Amity’s blushing? She has. But here’s the thing about white people: we blush a lot. As a blush-prone white person myself, I will blush when I’m angry, when I’m humiliated, when it’s too hot, when I exercise, when I’m uncomfortable, when I’m insecure...the list goes on. From Luz’s point of view, Amity really has permanent redness. I mean, she’ll hold her breath when she’s angry and her face will go red. She could be always angry to be around Luz. And especially in the past two episodes, whenever she so much as looks at Luz, she blushes. With how red her face is, Luz could even think it’s how her face always is. Or, that it’s a skin condition she got recently. Yeah, a lot of that evidence is grasping for straws, but remember that Luz has confirmation bias working against her.

How about all those times that Amity did heroic things? Luz’s love language is literally acts of service, and Amity has done those several times. Like when she caged Luz because “you’ll only get hurt.” Or when she burst from the trees as the leaves formed a heart around her and T-posed in front of Luz. The truth behind that is that Amity is starting to pick up on how Luz shows affection and is reciprocating it in her attempts to be the type of person Luz can love. But there’s another interpretation, which Luz could easily be using. 

Luz was the one who started the acts of service. She was the one who decided to befriend the Amity, to burst in as Luzura and save her, to say she’s not actually a witch, to save her siblings, to learn an extra spell and be in Amity’s class, to go fix Willow’s memories...the list goes on. So for Amity to reciprocate that? Maybe she’s just making it up to Luz. Amity probably feels bad about all the times she has let Luz be the hero, and wants to make her feel better about it.

Amity has also shown Luz proof of liking another girl. Right before Grom was Understanding Willow, which was an episode about Amity reminiscing over her childhood crush and fixing the damage between them. Sounds like friends to enemies to lovers, the trope that She Ra showed us to be an emotional and rewarding trope. Since Luz is a fanfic type, she could totally be looking for that trope.

And besides, you saw Luz in Willow’s mind. She literally watched Amity and Willow hold hands, gaze into each other’s eyes, apologize, make up, and look like they were going to get married. Sure, Luz wanted to go in there and claim Amity, which is part of why she put her hand on Amity’s shoulder there. But she is big enough to know that when her crush likes someone else, she should back off and support it. She would rather see Amity happy than see Amity with her, if those happen to be mutually exclusive. Which she thinks they are.

Going off that, Amity’s last words before her fear was revealed were a bit suspicious. She said “I’m sorry.” Who the hell would apologize as she was saving her friend?

As audience members, Amity’s reasoning for this is clear to us. She did this because she thought Grom was going to out her in front of everyone. She thought Luz would see her crush and hate her for it. Which makes sense if you assume the point of view of Amity’s repressed self, where her only crush was literally removed by her parents, and proceeded to hate her for years afterwards. If Luz knew that a monster like Amity liked her, she would remember what happened to Willow and cut Amity off like she was a long hairstyle.

From Luz’s point of view, it’s much worse. Deep down, Luz knows that she likes Amity and wants Amity to like her back (although she might not have the words for it). And think about it: if Amity’s fear is romance-related and she’s apologizing to Luz for something, wouldn’t it be for not liking her? From Luz’s point of view, she has been pretty obvious about her crush. She literally risked her life countless times for her. She even faced her worst fear for Amity, even though Eda strongly cautioned her against it. And besides, it wouldn’t even occur to Luz to hate Amity for liking her. So Luz thinks Amity is apologizing because Amity knows that Luz likes her, and she knows that her crush will hurt Luz. That also explains why Luz didn’t recognize her own mudsona: she was looking for someone else’s face to be reflected in it, so she could maybe help Amity by being her wingman.

Also, Luz can’t even stay in the Boiling Isles. Let’s say that everything goes perfectly. Luz falls for Amity, Amity falls for Luz, they date, they kiss, they face the Emperor’s Coven together, they face whoever’s writing notes to Luz’s mom together, they call each other girlfriends...all that won’t last, because Luz has to go home. 

Luz knows this. She already knows that making attachments is bad. That’s why her mom is her worst fear: it means she loses her real mother figure Eda, her best friend King, her love interest Amity, and her friends Willow and Gus. So of course she wouldn’t want to fall in love! She’ll only end up breaking Amity’s heart, and breaking her own. She saw how Amity reacted to having to leave Willow. Do you really think she would do that to Amity?

So can you blame her for the pain in her voice when she said “that’s what friends do?” She knows that’s not what friends do. But she has to put up that wall or risk hurting everyone.

[rk1kheadcanons]

Markus and Connor are secret dating b/c Connor doesn't wanna be out to the world yet. The Jericrew (-Connor) go drinking and Markus gets *drunk* and starts rambling about his boyf after he rebuffs an advance made by a lady at the bar super sappily, but no matter how hard the others press him, they just get "oh, his eyes are the color of warm chocolate..." answers as to who this boyf is

You would never know Markus was drunk.

He didn’t stutter or slur when he spoke, he didn’t sway or trip over his feet. He didn’t giggle goofily or speak overly loud. He was perfectly composed, as much the charismatic android sober as he was when he was intoxicated.

What he did do, however, was go on long monologues like a Shakespearian stage actor.

Which would be fine, if Markus’ favorite subject to wax poetic about wasn’t his mysterious boyfriend, whom he’d sworn not to reveal the identity of until they were ready. Which would also be fine, if that mysterious boyfriend wasn’t Connor, who was often sitting right next to him (and slowly but surely bluescreening his way into that big Windows XP wallpaper in the sky) as he sang and lathered compliment after compliment, steadily giving away clues that were so blatant that it was a miracle that no one had figured them out yet.

Markus never remembered what he’d done the next day, and whenever Connor mercilessly played back his memories, his poor lover was as embarrassed as he was apologetic. Connor could hardly begrudge him (frankly he didn’t know what sane person on this planet could ever begrudge Markus, but that was just Connor’s correct opinion). What could they even do about it? Should he demand Markus consciously control himself? It wasn’t like Connor was any better at it. Give the RK800 too many AMB’s (Adios Motherboards) and he would be on top of the nearest table and scream-singing his every professionally repressed emotion, regardless if it was a karaoke bar or not. Hence why he never imbibed more than he could handle when they were around their friends. The last thing he wanted to do was sloppily propose to Markus after a long and terrible rendition of K-Ci and JoJo.

And Connor wouldn’t dream of telling Markus to measure the contents of his drink like Connor did. Not when his breaks were so rare, and getting him to relax and let loose was like pulling teeth.

It was just in the cards that their big revelation as a couple would be in a random bar at 3AM, with Markus saying something along the lines of “my boyfriend’s name starts with a C and rhymes with Donner”, and Connor had made peace with that.

“Scarlet woman!” Markus cried, at some random bar at 3AM, surrounded by their drunken comrades. Ah, would this be the night? Connor thought, on the correct side of buzzed as he watched on from the table right next to them, a heady mix of dread and amusement running through his computer soul. “Jezebel! How d a r e you solicit my happily taken hand!”

The waitress, who looked like she regretted serving their table, let alone attempting to get the number from the happily taken hand, raised her hands in surrender. “Sorry, sorry,” she said peaceably and with the calm air of someone who dealt with drunks as a job choice, “just trying to shoot my shot, ya know?”

Markus nodded at her magnanimously, because he was a kind and forgiving man even as a drunken buffoon. “Fret not. I pardon you of this most heinous slight, for if you knew the one to own my heart, you would understand that no other could compare.”

“Sure thing dude,” she said goodnaturedly, packing up and replacing drinks around their tables expertly, and parting with a “have a good night Romeo.”

“But who can no other compare to? WHOMST??” asked North, throwing her torso onto the table and looking up at Markus pleadingly.

“We’ve ruled out Jerry #451, Claudia, Baris from accounting, and Jerry #36,” Simon rattled off. He was looking down at a napkin that he had scribbled the names of all of their potential suspects. “I’ve got it. It’s Baris.”

North rolled her eyes. “We already said it wasn’t Baris.”

“Ohhh. Right, right.” Simon nodded his head and continued to not cross off the names of the people they had decided against, as he had been doing all night.

“How about you describe them a little?” Josh put in, reasonable, and therefore slightly less wasted than everyone else. “Hair color? Height? Eyes? Something?”

“Nay, I must not speak thusly!” Markus declared, back of his hand over his forehead and everything. “For if I were to tread down that forbidden road, I would surely not be able to stop myself from breaking our sacred oath of secrecy!”

“Oh my goOOOOOOOd I hate this fucking oaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaath,” North threw her head back and cried to heavens, which, considering her positon, was probably going to be hell on her neck come morning. “Come on! Break your oath! Be like Thor and wield oathbreaker goddamnit!”

“You might be thinking of Stormbreaker,” Connor added, the need to try and reason with alcoholics apparently embedded in his programming.

North narrowed her eyes at him, or rather his torso, since her chin was very resolutely still resting on the table. “If you think I’m thinking right now then you are drunker than I am.”

Connor lifted his barely touched glass to her in a toast because how dare she be lucid enough to clap back so quickly. A well deserved rebuttal fucking cheers.

“Glasses!” Josh exclaimed, snapping his fingers. “Do they wear glasses? That should narrow down some people.”

“That’s right! That’ll tell us if they’re an android or not. Androids don’t wear glasses! Our eyes are like...fucking...better and shit!”

“Unless….” Simon narrowed his eyes, pausing dramatically. “....they do.”

North gasped. Josh put his hands on either side of face, muttering; “holy fucking shit he’s right.”

Markus scoffed. “Their eyes do not hide behind paltry spectacles! His beautiful orbs, so soft and caring when his gaze lands upon my person, seeing into my very soul, are the warmest chocolate brown!”

‘Ah shit here we go,’ Connor thought, wishing not for the first time that he could just down his drink and join everyone else in blissful, idiotic cavorting. The soft, melodic piano and crooning words of All My Life playing over the speaker stayed his hand. Best not take any chances

“HE!” Simon burst out, tipping over in his chair. “He say he! Them is He!”

“Are we talkin’ Hershey’s or Dove?”

“Ghirardelli you fucking plebs!”

“Oi!” North banged her hand on the table so hard it left a handprint indented in the wood. It was one amongst many however, and not all of them left by their party. Such was the price for serving android drinks at a human bar - you either shelled out for sturdier furniture or the dents and chips became a charming aspect of your décor. “Don’t get spicy with us Sir Lancelot!”

“Apologies fair maiden,” Markus responded easily. He took her hand delicately and made a sweeping bow over it. “Alas, my passions got away from me.” He dropped her hand and whirled around, coat billowing with the movement and most assuredly by accident, placing both hands to his thirium pump. “Conjuring up the magnificent images that is the love of my life oft times sends my emotions into a tizzy! His hair; cloud like in my grasp as I run my fingers threw earthen chestnut tendrils - ”

‘Hhhhhhhhhhhhn so many adjectives Markus whyyyyyyyyyy,’ Connor wheezed internally. He didn’t bother trying to keep down his blush. Markus was nowhere near done laying on the compliments and he’d be subjecting himself to an endless loop of canceling the process. Besides, he could just blame it on the alcohol. Blame it on the a a a a a alcohol - wait no. What!? WHAT. Connor looked down at his drink and saw, to his mounting horror, that the glass was emptier than it had been a few minutes ago. Goddamn his automated rest mode cycle for transforming into fidgeting whenever he was nervous! He resolutely pushed the glass out of his immediate reach.

Nines, who was quietly sitting next to him, hunched over and taking notes on his own napkin, snapped his head up to attention when the glass brushed against his arm. His younger brother was looking from Connor to Markus, eyes narrowed suspiciously as Markus carried on. Connor didn’t like that look at all. It was always a risk inviting Nines to their little outings, the only thing Connor could bank on was Nines passing out - as his dear little bro was a notorious light weight - before his deductive skills could pierce through his drunken haze. Apparently Nines had chosen tonight of all nights, where Markus had never been more obvious about their relationship, to bloody pace himself.

If he could, Connor would be sweating bullets.

“ - a wit SO SHARP!!” Markus declared, foot now planted on his chair and shaking his fist to the ceiling as if it had insulted one of Carl’s paintings, “that neither an UNDEAD HOARD nor a POLITICIAN’S EGO could survive it’s precision strike!!”

“Brown hair, brown eyes, banger body, smarty pants, good at analyzing shit, likes animals” North listed off, holding a hand up and ticking a finger down. “Well that rules out all the Jerrys; they’re all redheads and they’re pretty aggressive about it - except for Jerry #86. Is your man-squeeze Jerry #86?”

“No no no last I heard Jerry #86 is dating Hatsume Miku’s bodyguard; Android Lucy Lawless.” said Simon.

“Tch. Lucky,” pouted North.

“Oh wow, she really kept that name huh?” Josh said, voice faint with wonder and disbelief. “That’s such a mouthful.”

“And who are you to question a Queen!?” snapped North.

“Huzzah and many blessings to the fortuitous couple!” Markus cheered, toasting a stein of frothy blue intoxication that looked as cartoonish as it did poisonous to the sky, knocking it back in several impressive gulps and slamming it back on the table. “BUT NEITHER OF THEM CAN COMPARE TO THE BEAUTY AND GRACE THAT IS MY LOVE!!” he boomed, louder and more British by the second. “WHO’S CURIOSITY AND INTELLECT A CHERISHED BOON TO I, BUT A WEAPON OF MASS DESTRUCTION TO HIS ENEMIES - !”

North slapped her hand on the table several times, the proverbial light bulb lighting up in her eyes - oh. No not proverbial. There was currently little lightbulb emojis pictured in her pupils. Yet another drunken download added to the bill. Connor was glad he’d drawn the long straw on ‘irresponsible buying duty’ tonight. No doubt there would be a lot of strange receipts to sort through in the morning. “Oh! I know I know! It’s Josh!”

So startled by this declaration/accusation, Josh jumped in his seat. “What!?”

“Brown hair, brown eyes, hot, obnoxious, smart - everything FITS!”

“...he didn’t say obnoxious,” Josh muttered, then physically shook sanity back into himself. “It can’t be me. I think I’d know if I was dating Markus!”

Simon leaned in closer towards Josh, arm on the table, determination in his mien. “But what if…” Without breaking eye contact with his friend, he smoothly cracked open his Thirium berry blast bahama mama banana punch wine cooler, and proceeded to pour it just two centimeters off from his glass, all over the table. “You don’t know.”

Josh was shook in the face of this evidence. North narrowed her eyes so hard that they were just closed at this point. “Highly suspicious.”

“No. Nooooo. No? No! Of course I’m not. Right Markus?”

Markus steepled his fingers together and cackled in a way that most people would find concerning, but Connor just found it adorable. He would saving that in his memory banks. “I’ll never tell~,” he sing songed.

“H i g h l y s u s p i c i o u s.”

“I know who it is,” Nines suddenly said, calm but with such confidence that he was easily heard amidst the ruckus. He had his elbows planted on the table, chin resting upon his entwined fingers. Steele grey eyes swept over the now quiet group, everyone waiting with baited breath.

“Grant us your wisdom ‘o soothsayer,” Markus whispered, eyes wide with anticipation and literally perched on the edge of his seat. Connor seriously measured the pros and cons of just throwing his portion of the tab on the table and yeeting himself out of the window.

“It’s Sixty.”

Immediately the room erupted into scoffs and hisses of disbelief. North gave him a thumbs down and cupped her hand to her mouth, letting a long, “Booooo!”

“Why are you booing me I’m right!”

“BoooOOooOOOOOoooooo!” Markus, Josh and Simon joined in.

Connor blinked, and suddenly felt all of his concerns about Nines’ being the lynch pin in solving this mystery evaporate. If Markus transformed into a C grade Shakespeare impersonator when drunk, and Connor subconsciously wanted to be recruited by America’s Got Talent, then Nines became a consummate dumbass.

“That’s it!” North exploded. “Ten dollars says it’s Jerry #92! I caught him in a wig once!” She stood up, her chair sliding back from the force, and slammed a note on the table.

Simon also stood up with equal intensity. “Twenty says it’s Josh!” He reached into his pocket and slammed its contents onto the table. When he removed his hand six lego pieces, a My Little Pony leg, and two actual diamonds were revealed. Connor hoped dearly that the bartender cut Simon off soon.

“It’s not me!” Josh said exasperated. He paused, then pointedly pulled out some money and threw it in the pot as well. “I put forty on Brenden.”

“Bull! Shit!” North declared. “Fitness guru Brenden!? No way!”

“He fits the criteria.”

“I doubt ‘How To Tell If An Android Has Welded on Parts from China vs Russia in their Selfies’ videos on his YouTube channel is the kind analysis Markus was talking about.”

“You don’t know that! He didn’t specify...”

As the two continued to argue, with Simon chiming in with some non sequitur, and Nines tutting about these ‘ignorant fools and their blindness to the evidence presented’, Connor looked over to Markus. He was quiet. He had his elbow perched precariously on the edge of the table, his cheek resting on his fist, a small hat (that was not there literally two minutes ago) was on his head, folded from one of the bar napkins.

And he was looking at Connor as if he hung the moon and stars.

‘How could the world not already know,’ Connor thought, soft and warm inside, happy merely to be in his line of sight, ‘When he looks at me like that?’

Connor picked up his glass and lifted it. “One hundred dollars on Sixty.”

Chaos erupted. Nines threw his arms up and hooted like he’d won the super bowl. Josh tried to explain to him how that was mathematically impossible. North shook her head and warned him that he would live on the streets with an answer like that. Simon pulled out a Yu-Gi-Oh! Card and said he would give him this Charizard if he agreed with him that Josh was Markus’ secret boyfriend. Connor withheld himself from trying to convince drunk people that this was not how betting worked.

Maybe Connor shouldn’t worry so much about their relationship being discovered after all. At this rate, no one would know about he and Markus being together until the wedding invites.

[mageofseven]

Thank you both for requesting! I was originally gonna split this up into two posts, one for a good ending and one for a bad ending, but I think I found a way to keep both within this post with how I decided to format it. However, while I was writing Satan's section, I hit the word limit for a post. I didn't even realize that was a thing 😳

Basically, that's why this ask is still gonna be separated into multiple parts, likely 3 but we'll see. I honestly didn't think I'd write this much, but this ask got me so inspired, it's crazy.

So everyone! This is gonna continue off from the pregnancy discovered in this post. If you haven't seen it yet, it's worth a read.

Below is Lucifer, Mammon, and Levi's sections.

Part 2 | Part 3

~

Lucifer:

The man thought he was prepared. He thought.

Lucifer expected all different kinds of physical ailments that he would have to help MC cope through; he didn't expect the ailments to be mental.

He noticed it start around her fourth month. Before that point, the demon was surprised at how calm things were. His Love went through the usual struggles of human pregnancy, like the morning sickness in the first trimester, but that was all. Nothing odd had happened and though he was grateful, Lucifer was also suspicious.

The start was subtle. His Love's spirits had been seeming down, despite keeping a cheerful outlook for all the weeks before this. She was happy for this child and it was infectious, easing the Avatar of Pride's worry about fatherhood and making him look forward to this child as well.

That was shattered when the low spirit had suddenly progressed into a heavy depression. MC couldn't even leave their bed most days and getting her to eat had become a challenge for the first brother.

He simply couldn't understand the sudden nose dive in mood and any questioning came up empty. MC didn't know why she felt what she felt and that scared her.

It was the end of that month when the fear really set in though.

Lucifer had a meeting with Diavolo at the castle. He had laid in bed and cuddled his girlfriend close beforehand, giving her a kiss and promising he'd be back in a couple hours.

He had only been gone for 10 minutes when he got a call from Mammon, who was freaking out. The older brother couldn't fully make out what the second brother was saying, but he heard his Love's name in jumble that was his brother's words so he hung up and rushed back home.

Discovered all six of his brothers in his room, trying to calm a panicked MC, who was screaming and crying on the floor.

The demon rushed to her side, trying to calm her down and figure out just what was happening. His Love clung to him and he could feel the her heart beating as if it meant to break free from her chest and the man felt powerless.

Luckily, it only took about a minute of being in his arms for the woman to stop screaming. She cried in his arms for a while and slowly, her heart beat settled.

Lucifer was so confused. What happened and why? The man shooed his brothers out of the room before carrying his Love back to the bed.

Discovers that after he left, an uneasiness set in that quickly turned into blind panic. The woman didn't even notice the brothers or hear any of their attempts to calm her.

To say that the demon was concerned would be an understatement. He had to convene with Diavolo at once for a new reason.

The man laid with his girlfriend till she fell asleep, exhausted from her previous panic.

Lucifer called his friend and apologized for his absence before explaining the situation. Lord Diavolo, now concerned as well, decided to come to House of Lamentation instead.

The two discussed the issue in his study. The lord listened to his friend's predicament before explaining that this was likely a side affect of MC's angel heritage.

Right now, their baby was trying to form its soul along with its body and the demon child needs dark energies to do so. The woman's body is trying to absorb this dark energy for the child, but her repressed angel spirit is trying to repel it all, causing her own body and soul to fight. Her brain is the battle ground.

The reason it triggered in his absence is likely a psychological thing. Lucifer himself, as all demons do, radiate the very dark spiritual energy his child needs so, despite her soul's rejection, her great trust in her boyfriend gives her feelings of safety and has her mind lend support to her body to absorb the energy the baby needs.

To sum it up, his presence is the only thing keeping his girlfriend and child alive right now.

At this news, the man changes up everything about his schedule to stay near MC. He does all his paperwork at the desk in his room instead of in his study, he stops attending RAD the few days a week he still was at that time, made his meetings with Diavolo limited to only the most important work issues and always take place within his study at House of Lamentation. Sometimes he did have to leave her side, like for said meeting or simply because he had to grab food or use the restroom.

During those times, he'd call one of his brothers in to watch her. The demon had discovered that though her trust in them was not as great as it was in him, that trust still provided somewhat of a psychological cushion for her.

However, though their presence prevented full blown panic, it wasn't enough stop her from crying incessantly.

Most of his brothers could not handle her tears so it was usually Beel or Satan that accompanied her during these times.

It was hard for all of the men to watch, Lucifer included. He couldn't help blaming himself, knowing his carelessness had gotten her into this situation. Still, he had to keep it together for her sake.

The months went by and her belly grew. Lucifer missed that excitement he felt in the beginning of all of it when MC glowed with positivity. Now, unlike the times he was smiling and rubbing her belly as the two cuddled and discussed baby names, the emotionally exhausted demon saw it nothing more than a visual timer, reminding him that this will all be over soon.

Good Ending:

After a long nine months of his Love's mental and emotional suffering, the time finally came. It was late at night, around 3am when his Love awoke with labor pains. Lucifer was already awake and at his desk doing paperwork. He immediately called the doctor that Lord Diavolo had recommended for them before approaching his love and trying to calm her. This was it. It will all be over soon and his human will finally be happy once again.

Five and half hours later, the couple was greeted by a beautiful baby girl. The small baby had her mother's hair, her father's red eyes, and a bit surprisingly, her father's black wings. MC cried as she stared down at her daughter; her tears were accompanied by a smile though. A smile. That was enough for Lucifer, who started to tear up at the scene.

"You did so well, Love." He leaned down and kissed his girlfriend's head, staring down at the baby, now drinking from her mama's chest. "I'm so proud of you."

All the days before this were tortuous for the couple, as well as the rest of the House of Lamentation, but finally some happiness was lighting up the household.

The two end up naming their daughter Ksenia.

Bad End:

The demon sighed. He was at his desk, going through paperwork while his Love slept in bed behind him. It was 1am and though that never used to be such a late time for him, these last few months had him exhausted him. His worry and care for his girlfriend took up most of his energy these past few months. MC was already entering her eighth month of pregnancy. The two were just so close to putting this all behind them and being happy. So close.

Lucifer gave a huff and laid his pen down on the desk. His concentration was waning regardless of how much he fought it. He glanced over his shoulder at MC, watching her sleep peacefully. That's the only way she finds peace anymore, by shutting off her mind and losing consciousness. Every waking moment for her is a heavy one and moments she even perceives that she might be alone causes her heart to race in her chest... all she's knows anymore is that pain and sadness yet she pushes on for the sake of their child.

Lucifer stood up and approached the bed, staring down at his Love with a guilty heart. He leaned down and kissed her forehead as he laid his hand on her round belly. There were so many moments during all of this that... he cursed his child for doing this to her. Never aloud, just within the confines of his heart. It was always followed by a reminder that the fault is his own though, not his child's. Their child didn't make any decision nor was it actively trying to hurt their mother. No, this child exists because of him and MC, because of his choices and carelessness. None of the blame truly falls on his child; it falls on himself.

He gave her belly a gentle stroke, a silent apology to the child he felt that he had wronged. Already, he felt that he was making his previous words ring true; he's a terrible father to his child. The night that MC told him she was pregnant, he confessed this fear to her.

"I should have been better. Now what's stopping me from making the same mistakes with our child?"

"Me." She answered, without missing a beat. "Lucifer, you're not alone anymore. This... we can do this together."

He still remembers those words and they roll through his head every time the fear of fatherhood decides to rear its ugly head within his mind. No matter how scared he is on the inside, no matter what happens now, he cannot let himself be engulfed by it all. No. MC needs him now and he refuses to break for her sake.

The demon steps away from the bed and heads towards the door. He shouldn't leave her, he knew that, but sometimes he just had to. It was maddening, confining himself to his room for months on end. Occasionally, and only when his Love is asleep, he allows himself to step away from the room and head downstairs to his office.

Here he sat at his desk, pulling a bottle of demonus from his drawer. It would probably look bad to anyone finding him drinking alone in his office at a time like this, but the man was stressed and he only gave himself the luxury of doing so every two weeks or so.

The man lost track of time while he was down there and before he knew it, the sun was rising. Lucifer sighed before hiding the bottle back in his desk and went back upstairs to join his girlfriend in bed.

Instead, he found her lying on the wooden floor. He raced up, calling her name and pulling her into his arms to better check her.... she was cold. The demon's eyes widened as he checked for a pulse. None... no pulse, no breath...his Love was gone.

Later, he finds out what happened from Barbatos, who checked into the past for him. His Love awoke in a panic after a nightmare to find herself all alone. The usual panic from that compounded with the fear from the nightmare and it was too much for her heart, causing her to have a heart attack. No one heard her because her last moments were filled with her desperately trying to mute herself because she didn't want him or his brothers to hear and burden them with herself once more.

Lucifer was completely torn about this. In the space of a couple hours, he lost both his girlfriend and his daughter (Barbatos told him) because he left his room at the worst opportunity and because he didn't know she felt that way. The emotionally exhausted man never knew she saw herself as a burden. It never occurred to him that she could actually have believed such a ridiculous thing. But he should have. He should have spoke out more. As many times as he told he loved her, as many times as he told her everything would be okay, he never told her specifically that it was okay to lean on him because he didn't know that she needed to hear that.

And now they're gone. And now Lucifer has to live with feeling like he was both a bad father and a bad boyfriend.

Mammon:

It all started off pretty simple in theory: morning sickness

MC's morning sickness was strong and unfortunately, didn't just happen in the mornings.

The two had to skip a lot of school days at RAD. Lucifer allowed this, but had a hell of a time negotiating with their teachers, especially Mammon's, so they aren't penalized too much for this.

MC really couldn't eat breakfast. Or lunch for that matter. If she tried, she'd end up puking it up before even finishing the meal.

She could eat dinner, but it had to be something pretty light for her stomach.

It became so much more complicated as the pregnancy progressed.

Morning sickness usually ended during the first trimester, but it never actually stopped for MC. In fact, the farther she got into her pregnancy, the less her body could keep down.

This freaked Mammon out and he kept running to Lucifer, asking if there's something, anything he can do to help this.

For a while, all he could do was comfort his weakened human... but it was hard.

During her sixth month, it was hard to even look at MC some days because, despite being pregnant and her belly sticking out, the woman had actually lost weight since becoming pregnant; other than her growing belly, she was all skin and bones. Her legs, arms, even her face, all boney and sunken. She started to look as if the life was being sucked out her.

Somehow, the human stayed cheerful. Honestly, her boyfriend didn't understand it; their baby was practically starving her, but she still smiled.

The only time she showed any fear was when she'd tell Mammon how worried she was for their baby; she hadn't felt it kick yet and she was worried it was too weak to do it.

Everytime she spoke this worry, Mammon would hold her close and start rubbing her belly.

"Now, don't go talking like that." He leaned in and laid a kiss to her temple. "Baby is gonna fine."

"But they--"

"But nothin', babe. You know it's a bit on the early side for that anyhow."

"It's early for others to feel something, but I should have felt something before this, a flutter or something but they--"

Tears poured down her cheeks, breaking her man's heart. Mammon froze for a moment before leaning in with a kiss.

"A-Are you sure they'll be okay?" She sniffled, looking up into his eyes.

"Of course, you think I'd lie to you?" He asked before giving her belly a gentle rub. "Look how our kid has grown already! If something went wrong, they wouldn't still be growing, now would they?"

"I... I guess."

Despite everything he said, the Avatar of Greed was scared shitless. What if she was right and something already went wrong? What if he already failed her and his kid? Those thoughts were too much for him though so he did whatever he could to push them aside.

It was during her seventh month when Lucifer discovered a potion she could try, one that could help with the nausea and help her keep more food down.

Mammon had to give it to her every morning, but it helped her keep most of her meals down and regain her strength.

The first few days, they kept her on light meals just in case, but afterwards, she had free reign to eat whatever she craved.

This was when the late night food runs started happening. In all honesty, Mammon never thought he'd be so grateful to be woken up at 2am to get weird food combos like ice cream and beef jerky (MC seemed to have a thing for sweet 'n salty food combos).

Things were finally starting to seem okay; MC was eating, regaining her weight, and just seemed so happy. Not forced positivity, but some real happiness.

Then, around half way done with her 7th month, it happened. MC was sitting in the living room with Mammon and a couple of his brothers she suddenly gasped.

"M-Mammon!"

The man jumped up and rushed to her side. All of the brothers were now standing too, alarmed.

"Shit! What's wrong??"

She grabbed his hand his hand and laid it on her belly. He gave her a confused look for a moment till it happened. A kick! Their baby actually kicked!

MC cried, but also smiled as she saw his face light up.

"Holy-- see! I told you our kid was alright!" He grinned. "Just goes to show that you need to be trusting The Great Mammon more!"

The other brothers settled back down in their seats. Beel actually smiled at the happy couple, grateful that things seem to be turning around for them.

Good Ending:

The rest of the pregnancy went smoothly, thanks to the potion. The couple's worries seemed to disappear for the most part. MC was eating again and healthier; their baby was kicking and seemed pretty lively. There were even nights where the kid kept their mother up (and in turn, their father) with all their kicks and movements, but they were glad to trade sleepless nights for the confirmation that their child was healthy too.

It was her 39 week, just barely missing the nine month mark, when MC went into labor. Mammon panicked in the beginning, causing MC to have to calm him down through her labor pains. The demon eventually got a grip on himself and started helping his girlfriend. After six hours of labor, the couple was greeted with a baby girl, who had her daddy's white hair, her mama's eyes, and surprisingly, two little nubs on her head, which will likely grow into horns just like her dad's. The couple cried along side their bundle of joy. Mammon leaned down and kissed his Human.

"You did so good, Babe. Just look at our girl there."

Most of the pregnancy... it definitely wasn't easy, but when the couple stared down at their little girl, they knew it was all worth it.

The couple ended up naming their daughter Cassia.

Bad End:

It was during the beginning of MC's eighth month when she went into labor. Mammon still remembers her panicked tears as she kept saying over and over that it was too soon. The second born had Lucifer call the doctor as he just held her close and tried to calm her. He gave his all to stay calm himself, but his Human's fear and pain really broke him down inside to the point where he'd have to quickly wipe a tear of his own away before she saw it.

In the end, MC's body was just too weak. Even though she recently had been able to regain some of her strength, it didn't erase the months before that of her body being near starved. The doctor was barely able to save his daughter. Mammon can still remember the look on his girlfriend's face when their girl entered the world, a weak smile of relief. She went to say something, but suddenly exhaled her last breath, leaving her body permanently stilled.

And just like that, he lost the only person who he felt gave a damn about him. He remembers collapsing in on himself while his brothers only saw him stare far away into space. He remembered when his younger brothers started throwing insults and blame his way, saying his stupidity killed her. And he remembered throwing himself against the brother closest to him, later noticing it to be Belphie, just punching him and crying. This shocked them to the point that no one, not even Beel stepped up to stop him for the longest moment. This wasn't Mammon. Mammon never laid a hand on his brothers.

Lucifer was the one who snapped out of it first and pulled the second born off of Belphie. The room was silent as he cried, practically in unison with his daughter in the other room. That was the moment where each of his brothers started to realize just how much Mammon loved MC. All of the brothers cared about her and were hurting from her death, but this was first moment where they really took the Avatar of Greed seriously with his own feelings.

The Brother's were a lot softer with Mammon from then on. No matter what he stole from them, no matter how much debt he racked up, they kept a certain tenderness in their heart for the brother who lost it all with MC's death.

As a dad... Mammon tried his best. No one doubted that, even when the other brothers had to jump in to feed the girl or quiet her cries while her father either cried in bed or searched for some sort of distraction to calm his mind. Looking at Cassia... it was hard for the dad. He'd look down into her eyes, the same eyes she got from her mother, and could only think about how MC should be there with him now... but how she's not.

As a baby and toddler, Cassia was mostly raised by Asmo and Beel. As a child, she had gotten closer with her Uncle Lucifer. Mammon was a loving, but distant dad who constantly tore himself down even when his brothers no longer did.

Leviathan:

Levi and MC got a good five months before facing any major difficulties.

Outside of the morning sickness in the beginning, everything was pretty calm with the pregnancy till then

And what happened at this point in time... honestly, no one could have predicted this.

The two were sitting in his room, each reading their own chosen manga.

When the woman had risen from his side, the otaku didn't really give it any thought, just assumed that she needed to go pee or grab another pillow.

It wasn't till heard a splash to his left that he looked up from his book and saw his pregnant girlfriend at the bottom of his giant fish tank.

Panicking, the demon dropped his book his and rushed up to the top of fish tank. He didn't even notice that he transformed into his demon form before jumping in and swimming down to the human

He quickly swam up with her and carried her back out and onto his floor.

"Shit shit!" The man stared down at the unconscious human, brain being uncooperative as he realised they were not breathing. Then it clicked and Levi put both hands on his Human's chest and repeatedly pressed down, starting CPR.

When his girlfriend eventually coughed up the water in her lungs and came to, he nearly fainted in relief.

He scooped her into his arms and started crying.

"W-What were you thinking???"

The demon didn't understand what just happened. His Henry almost drowned. And she was the one threw herself in! Was she trying to kill herself? Was the whole pregnancy and parenthood stuff getting too scary for her? Was he not taking care of her good enough? Oh devil... what if she thinks he's gonna be a bad dad and just wants to end it all now??

As the Avatar of Envy always did, he thought of the worse outcomes that he could blame himself for.

"I... Levi, what happened?"

??!!

"What do you mean, what happened? You tried to drown yourself!"

The woman's eyes went wide and she frantically shook her head.

"I... no! I would never do that to our baby!"

Even now, she wasn't even thinking of her own life. Just their child's. Levi was scared for their kid's life too, but got so panicked over her's that he didn't mention it before.

As he looked down into her horrified expression, the demon knew she was telling the truth. Or, at least she believed she was.

For a second, the man doubted what he just saw, just experienced. Her drenched hair and clothes were the only things that cemented him in the knowledge that he was right.

But then why did she sincerely believe differently?

Levi texted Lucifer that there was an emergency and needed him in his room now before he helped MC get changed out of her wet clothes.

By the time Lucifer came to the room, MC was in Levi's pj pants and one of his tshirts with a blanket wrapped around her to keep her warm.

Lucifer could sense something different with MC the moment he entered the room. As a demon skilled with magic and curses, he could sense the energy shift within her

And once his younger brother explained what had happened, it had all clicked into place for the first brother. Granted, it was just a theory at this stage, but all signs still pointed to it.

The situation seemed to be a side affect of her pregnancy and a magical one at that. Her baby needed something that they weren't getting so they took the reigns and made their mother give it to them.

That something? Water. The baby seems to have inherited they're father's affinity for water.

Levi was frozen where he and MC sat on the couch.

Basically what the third brother was hearing was that this was his fault, that he almost lost his girlfriend and baby because he has a connection to water.

The demon was ready with a slew insults to express his self blame, but was stopped by MC's quick kiss.

"Hey... none of that." She said softly. "It's okay, it's not your fault. Besides, you saved me."

She knew her boyfriend well enough to know when he was gonna tear himself down but this... she couldn't let him blame himself for something this big.

As per Lucifer's advice, MC started lounging in the bath a couple times a day to see if that would curb her baby's need to be surrounded by water. And surprisingly, it worked.

But as her pregnancy progressed and her belly grew, so did her need to be in water. She'd be fine for a few weeks then suddenly there would be another fish tank incident (though luckily, Levi would stop her before she would even get her feet wet) and her boyfriend would rush her to the bathtub. Each time this happened, the amount of sessions and length of said sessions in the bath increased.

In all honesty, it probably wasn't good for her skin to lay in water so much, but considering this was a life or death situation for her and the baby, it was worth dealing with pruney skin.

It got to the point where it felt like most of her day was spent in the tub and the woman hated it.

Actually ended up convincing Levi to join her for some sessions and loved snuggling up to her boyfriend in the tub.

Honestly, it was something the human wanted to continue between them even after her pregnancy.

Levi had to keep a close eye on her for the remaining months, which was stressful for the otaku, who couldn't really indulge in his usual hobbies, knowing he'd get too absorbed and possibly miss it the moment she needs him.

Still, the demon took care of his Henry well.

Good End:

The woman so ready to birth this baby. MC was so tired of spending her days in the bath tub and being sore and pruney so when the day came, she was nervous, but relieved. She was about a week overdue when her water broke and she went into labor. Levi was a nervous wreck for a most of it, but MC was very patient with him, despite her pain.

After six and half hours of labor, MC held their baby boy in her arms. Levi just stared in wonder at his son. His son. Who would of thought this would ever happen? If you would have told him before he met MC that he'd be a dad someday, he would of said something was wrong with you. If you would of said it after they started dating, he would of told you there was no way MC would wanna give him such a gift.

But there he was, staring down at the son that MC spent hours pushing out and even almost drowned once, just to bring him into this world. This... MC really was amazing.

"Do you wanna hold him?" She smiled at her boyfriend, breaking his thoughts.

The man tensed up, but gave a shy nod.

His girlfriend explained how to hold the baby before setting their son in his arms and telling him to make small adjustments. Levi stared down at his child, who had his hair and MC's eyes. Heck, the little boy even had a tail just like his. The man started tearing up and the human laughed.

"Don't... I'm not crying, I swear..."

After reviewing some of the baby names they talked about, the couple decided on the name Kai.

Bad End:

MC was halfway through her seventh month when it happened. They had recently had another incident of the woman finding her way to the fish tank and had to adjust her bathing schedule again. Bad news: MC had to spend another two hours in the tub each day. Good news? The woman should be incident-free for another couple weeks.

This was why Levi felt it was okay to leave the house, something he rarely felt like doing. He used to never mind spending most of his time in his room. Before this pregnancy, it was his safe haven, where he retreated into in order to avoid all of his troubles and the judgement that he felt he got from the world. Since MC has been pregnant though, that has been the room she spent all her time in, especially since things got... complicated.

His room was no longer a safe place; on the contrary, it was where all of his stress and fears lied. He still powered through it most days for MC's sake, but on transition days where the pattern showed her to be safe, he'd leave the house to go to the comic book store (which also sold manga). He made sure his brothers would keep checking up on her while he was gone.

But they didn't. For a variety of reasons, none of this brothers checked in on her until it was too late. Lucifer was busy working in his study. Mammon left for his modeling gig. Satan was out plotting things with Mephisto. Asmo was in his room, talking on the phone with someone while he did his nails. Beel was in the kitchen, trying to cook dinner and fighting the urge to just eat the ingredients. Belphie was asleep.

Eventually, Beel made his way to Levi's room to check on MC and found her floating face-down in the fish tank. Levi didn't come home until an hour after she was found. He started heading to his room when Lucifer stopped him and called him into the living room. His heart sank when he entered and saw all his brothers sitting around the room. Asmo was crying. Mammon was pretending not to be. The rest of his brothers simply look depressed.

Apparently, MC skipped a bath time while he was gone. She was just so on edge and didn't want to force herself into the water yet. The baby did though. And now they are both gone.

And just like that, the third brother was alone again. Levi locked himself in his room for months after her death, not leaving for school or to even eat. His brothers brought his meals to his room, but he often needed encouragement to eat. The man just wanted to cave into himself and hide away from it all, but the one place he could hide was the same room the human he loved died in... because he wasn't there to comfort her and have her take her bath.

He was so utterly alone. No Henry. No baby. And he felt that he had no one to blame but himself.

~

Part 2 | Part 3

[k-s-morgan]

Will’s vs. Hannibal’s Ways of Expressing Love

The fact that Hannibal loves Will and is in love with him is openly stated in the show several times. Will’s feelings, on the other hand, are more ambiguous, which is why some viewers often doubt whether Hannibal’s love is reciprocated. I think that exploring the ways these two men experience and react to love can explain the varying degrees of their openness about it.

I’ll put TLDR right here: Hannibal is more open about himself and his feelings, including love, hence he doesn’t have many challenges with admitting it. Will is closed off, stiff, and emotionally repressed, so he expresses his feelings in a much more subtle way.

Let’s start with Hannibal. Details about his past are scarce, but we know that he admits to loving two people throughout his life, his sister and Will.

E3 of S3.

*Bedelia: What your sister made you feel was beyond your conscious ability to control or predict … I would suggest what Will Graham makes you feel is not dissimilar. A force of mind and circumstance.*    

*Hannibal: Love.*

Undoubtedly, Hannibal’s love for Mischa was traumatic and unhealthy. He loved her so much that he ate a part of her body after she was killed, devastated by this loss. But it was still love that made him feel all the related emotions, so Hannibal has some experience with it. From what we know of him, he has a very broad mind. He despises limitations and overcomes them, and he is not ashamed of who he is. He isn’t embarrassed to cry in the opera or to be the first to stand up and applaud; he delights in stereotypically ‘feminine’ hobbies like cooking and clothes selection; he draws fan-art and openly expresses his admiration when it’s due. For this reason, Hannibal doesn’t have many problems with expressing love either.  

Upon meeting Will, he is immediately drawn to him. He sees him as his potential partner and decides he wants to try and build a family with him as early as E2 of S1. That’s when he starts planting the idea of Abigail being their shared daughter in Will’s mind. He does the same to Abigail, urging her to see him and Will as her parents, even giving her shrooms to evoke the desired associations (unsuccessfully since Will doesn’t come to dinner). So, Hannibal acknowledged his pull/infatuation with Will from the very start, and he acted on it right away.

It’s not 100% love at this point, but Hannibal still easily follows his emotions. He doesn’t stop to consider how strange it is to want a family with a man he just met; he doesn’t agonize over the idea of how his life has more risks now that he allows another human being to know him. When these feelings progress at the end of S1/start of S2, Hannibal is finally taken aback. While he never planned to leave Will in prison and it was a part of his plan, he still didn’t expect to miss him so much — he admits it to Bedelia, looking forlorn, in E1 of S2. He repeatedly pines for Will by sitting in front of his chair at the time of his supposed appointment, glancing at the clock despite knowing Will is not going to come. This is a shift to an actual love, but Hannibal still doesn’t fight it. On the contrary, he embraces it, and he spends the entire S2 doing repeatedly romantic gestures for Will. Namely:

1) Protects Abigail to reunite Will with her later.

2) Shares a part of himself he doesn’t seem to have ever shared with anyone else. He talks to Will about Mischa, reveals his views on murder and God, acknowledges he cared about Abigail, and shows vulnerability. He shares his teacup ritual with him, which is something precious and deeply personal.

3) He digs up fake Freddie’s corpse and decorates it as a way of courting Will (as directly said by Alana).  

4) He draws a fan-art of himself and Will as Achilles and Patroclus.

5) He is ready to abandon his well-established life in Baltimore and reputation to run away with Will. In Hannibal’s view, no one truly suspects him and there is no evidence against him, but Will is in danger. So he’s willing to discard everything he’s been building for 20 years for him.

Finally, he calls Will a loved one more or less directly in E13 of S2 (in fact, he implies that they both love each other).

*Hannibal: Do you know what an imago is, Will? … An imago is an image of a loved one buried in the unconscious, carried with us all our lives.*

*Will: An ideal.*

*Hannibal: The concept of an ideal... I have a concept of you, just as you have a concept of me.*

Will hurts him with his betrayal, and Hannibal still finds himself unable to kill him. He is openly crying in the finale, admitting how Will hurt him, breaks his (and his own) heart by killing Abigail, and flees to Europe to start a new life. But things don’t go as he hoped they would. Bedelia is not a worthy substitute, and Hannibal is increasingly slipping into a self-destructive state because of his love for Will. He kills Anthony, who was an improved copy of Will, and turns him into a Valentine heart for him. Again, this is a very explicit and open emotional action. Hannibal doesn’t hide his feelings. He’s an emotional wreck with Bedelia in E3, and as they are talking about Will, he admits he’s in love with him.

*Hannibal: You cannot control with respect to whom you fall in love.*

Bedelia points out his self-destructiveness.

*Bedelia: You're going to get caught. It's already been set into motion … I know exactly how I will be navigating my way out of whatever it is I’ve gotten myself into. Do you?*

After Hannibal keeps spiraling and kills Sogliato, she adds: *You're drawing them to you, aren't you? All of them.*  

Hannibal gets so self-destructive over Will that he lets Jack beat himself almost to death, not even attempting to fight him. The first words he says to Will after they reunite in E6 are:

*Hannibal: If I saw you every day forever, Will, I would remember this time.*

He’s a romantic. The courtship, the Valentine heart, the romance — Hannibal did have some struggles, but overall, he accepts these feelings and isn’t afraid to act on them.

When Will pulls a knife in E6, Hannibal classifies it as another betrayal. This is where he decides to kill and eat him in the hope to put an end to this misery (which is what he and Bedelia discussed back in E3). However, even blinded by another heartbreak, Hannibal tries to save Will at the same time. He knows the police are coming and he puts off the moment of sawing for as long as he can, first fussing over Will and his wound, then waiting for Jack, then doing everything slowly as hell.

Everything changes in E7, when Hannibal faces the real risk of losing Will and comes to terms with the fact that a hope of life with him is better than life without him. So Hannibal carries Will home bridal-style, takes care of him, waits for him to wake up and writes formulas to reverse time. He directly tells Will that Will won, and that he, Hannibal, is at Will’s mercy.

*Hannibal: Your memory palace is building. It's full of new things. It shares some rooms with my own. I've discovered you there. Victorious.*

He gives himself up, sacrificing the freedom he’s been fighting for back in E2 finale, in the hope that one day, Will is going to come back to him. After this, Hannibal is all about Will, with all his heart. Throughout the second half of S3, he says things like, *“I gave you a child. You are family, Will. Was it good to see me?”*, etc. He agrees to risk his life by agreeing to Will’s plan, knowing he’s planning something but not knowing what and if he’d die in the process. In E13, Hannibal says:

*Hannibal: "No greater love hath man than to lay down his life for a friend"* and shields Will from the bullet. Later, he allows Will to push them both down, and he stays with him afterward.

Conclusion: Hannibal is very accepting of himself, so he doesn’t undergo severe challenges on the path to acknowledging what he feels for Will. He knows what love feels like because he felt it for Mischa before, so he embraces loving Will pretty quickly, even though he doesn’t know how to best approach it at times. That’s why we get direct and explicit confirmation of his feelings several times.

Now, on to Will.

Unlike with Hannibal, there is no evidence that Will has ever experienced love before (at least love for people). We know he had a father and was lonely as a child.

E4 of S1.

*Will: We were poor. I followed my father from the boat yards in Biloxi and Greenville to lake boats on Erie.*

*Hannibal: Always the new boy at school? Always the stranger?*

*Will: Always.*

His choice of words indicates that his relationship with his father wasn’t all that good (for instance, *I followed my father* instead of *My father and I had to…*). So, it doesn’t look like Will ever had meaningful connections. More than that, he says:

*Will: There’s something so foreign about family. Like an ill-fitting suit. Never connected to the concept.*

We can suggest that he doesn’t know what love is or how it feels like. From E1, we know he isolates himself because he hates himself for who he is: he understands he’s different, that there is darkness in him, but he desperately tries to subdue it and deny this fact. He’s rude, twitchy, and unhappy, but like Hannibal, he understands the extent of his loneliness only upon meeting him. That’s when he tries forming relationships with others.

Will’s relationships with Alana and Abigail are a good indication of his problems with love. He wants to be with Alana because he needs to feel normal. In 99% of cases, he remembers about her only when she comes to seek him out first. He kisses her for the first time at the moment of particular vulnerability, fearing that he’s finally losing his mind (in E8). When Hannibal calls him out on it, Will doesn’t deny it and semi-nods. He actually had to agree with it verbally according to the script.

*Will: I feel unstable.*

*Hannibal: That’s why you kissed her. A clutch for balance.*

*Will: Because I’m losing mine.*

So, it’s not that Will feels romantic love for Alana — he uses her because he desperately needs to feel like everyone else. Alana is a pretty, smart, normal woman who fits this goal perfectly. He doesn’t allow himself to be genuine with her unlike he does with Hannibal, to whom he opens up.

Will confesses to Hannibal that he loved killing Hobbs in E2, which got him down and made him panic. Hannibal supports him, and Will keeps coming back to him. He talks about everything important with Hannibal, opening parts of himself that he guards from everyone else. Will asks Hannibal to look after his dogs as early as E4 — he doesn’t have other friends, and he’s already focused on Hannibal. He buys into an idea of having a family with him and Abigail, which is amazing for Will, who has just said he could never relate to the concept of family.

When Will buys a gift for Abigail in the same E4 and freaks out, Hannibal asks him:

*Hannibal: Feeling paternal, Will?*

Will’s reaction is instant and defensive:

*Will: Aren’t you?*

Hannibal easily says “yes”, which disarms Will. This is a great contrast between them: Hannibal isn’t afraid to talk and acknowledge his feelings while Will is embarrassed of them and shies away from them. In fact, this is a repeat of their conversation in E2.

*Hannibal: You saved Abigail Hobbs' life. You also orphaned her. It comes with certain emotional obligations.*

*Will: You were there. You saved her life, too. Do you feel obligated?*

Again, Will deflects. He’s wary of emotions, especially of admitting them out loud.

Will shows a hint of romantic interest in Hannibal in E7. He brings him a bottle of wine out of blue, but unfortunately, he stumbles upon the party Hannibal is preparing. Hannibal invites him to stay, but Will says he won’t be good company. He’s shy and awkward, smiling nervously and dropping his gaze in embarrassment. Then we have this lovely line:

*Will: I’ve got a date with the Chesapeake Ripper.*

So, in S1, Will makes considerable emotional progress. He realizes he wants a family after all, and while he makes several half-hearted attempts to court Alana, he’s mostly focused on Hannibal and Abigail. He opens himself up to Hannibal, receives official guardianship over Abigail with him, arguably flirts with Hannibal (like in the wine scene above), and covers up murder to protect their family. But then Hannibal betrays him. Will doesn’t know his reasons yet, but this betrayal plunged him into darkness, bitterness, and new stage of emotional repression. It’s worth mentioning another point of Abigail here: in the end, Will doesn’t know her. He spoke to her only several times, and even fewer times were genuine. He loves the idea of her, and this idea was introduced by Hannibal, not by Abigail’s presence. It’s Hannibal who forced Will to confront his need to love and be loved.  

In S2, Will is incredibly conflicted. He acknowledges to Hannibal that he hurt him, tries to kill him via Matthew, but when he recognizes that Hannibal wants him as a friend (as spoken in E7), his attitude changes. Will doesn’t plan to forgive him, he’s still angry at Hannibal for killing Abigail (which is his biggest conflict, as evident from his talks with Hannibal himself and Freddie), but now, he can’t bring himself to harm or betray Hannibal.

He gets his first chance in E7, after being released from prison. He threatens Hannibal with a gun and has a perfect chance to make him pay, but he doesn’t. Instead, he conspires with Jack and decides to cultivate co-dependency, creating an environment where only he “and the fish exist” (E8). What does Will do to start? He makes himself physically attractive, grooming and dressing prettily. It’s a seduction on all levels, and Will plans to use emotions to hurt Hannibal back. At the same time, Will admits to being confused over what he feels for Hannibal.

E8 of S2.

*Will: I envy you your hate. Makes it much easier when you know how to feel.*

E9 of S2 (talking about trying to kill Hannibal with Margot).

*Margot: Did he have it coming?*

*Will: What do you think?*

*Margot: I can't say that I know.*

*Will: Neither can I.*

He spends the rest of the season lying to both Hannibal and Jack, unsure whose side to choose, too lost in his own feelings to make sense of them. At the same time, he has a dream where Hannibal calls him beloved in E9. It shows that Will contemplates the idea of love in relation to Hannibal. In E10, Will tries to fantasize about Alana as he’s having sex with Margot. However, he sees the image of Wendigo near the fireplace, Wendigo who he’s used to associating with Hannibal. Two interesting things (copied from my other meta): first, Will actually sees Hannibal’s room and consequently, he sees himself in it (or he sees their rooms united). Second, he sees the Wendigo near Hannibal’s fireplace. Fireplace has many meanings, including passion, sexuality, home, family, and resurrection. It emphasizes the sexual and romantic subtext of this uniquely shot scene, where people destined to be together have sex with the wrong partners. Will’s vision begins to contract, focusing on Wendigo: he is having an orgasm at this very moment, imagining the Wendigo’s face very close, approaching him. Still through the misty eyes, he tries to focus on Alana again, but his gaze moves up to Wendigo above her, as if he can’t help himself. He and Hannibal reach orgasm first, with Alana and Margot following them. So, Will dragged Hannibal into his sex fantasy. It’s both symbolic and physical: he tried to imagine Alana just like he tried to have a relationship with her before, in S1, out of his desire to be normal. But his attention is inevitably drawn to Hannibal, who’s his “real deal”.

Based on this scene, it’s underlined once again how Will struggles with emotions. Even in the safety of his own mind, in his own fantasy, he tries to think of Alana but still ends up with Hannibal. Will is always fighting himself and who he is. He refuses to accept his darkness just as he refuses to admit he loves Hannibal. It’s the essence of who he is, denial is his second name.

Among the important moments, there are Will’s words to Hannibal:

*Will: You are right. We are just alike. You are as alone as I am. And we are both alone without each other.*

So, Will accepts the bond with Hannibal, and at this stage, he even has the courage to voice some of his emotional thoughts. His progress is slow, but it’s there.

In E11, Will has a nightmare. He sees a burning corpse of ‘Freddie’ in a wheelchair, a symbol of his betrayal of Hannibal, and he hears his own increasing screaming. It’s easy to interpret, knowing the context: Will feels guilty for lying to Hannibal.

When Margot loses her child, Will feels renewed anger at Hannibal. He fantasizes about killing him and gets to realize his fantasy with Mason’s help in E12. But at the last moment, Will changes his mind and chooses Hannibal. He does the same thing in E13 by calling him. When he sees him, he doesn’t even try to point a gun at him: he asks why he didn’t leave as he was supposed to, and he even leans forward to accept the knife, accept the punishment for betrayal.

So, Will chooses Hannibal over Abigail, for whom he wanted justice; over his and Margot’s child, for whom he wanted revenge; over Jack and Alana, who were his only semblance of friends; over his own confusion and desire to be normal. For someone as emotionally stunted as Will, it’s huge. It proves that he loves Hannibal and is willing to compromise all other relationships he has formed as well his own beliefs for him (while Will is dark, he tries to fight it because he doesn’t think people like them are normal). Is it romantic? Will’s dream with the word “beloved” and his sex fantasy, as well as his acceptance of the idea that he and Hannibal were Abigail’s fathers (which makes them partners) imply that yes, romantic feeling is a part of it.

Hannibal’s romantic feelings became explicit in S3, and so did Will’s. But since Hannibal is more open and self-accepting, his were discussed out loud while Will’s were mostly portrayed silently, implied, and alluded to.

Will builds a boat to sail and find Hannibal, which is pretty romantic by itself. He spends his time in Hannibal’s house, in the kitchen where their bloody break-up happened, imagining Abigail near him. When Alana comes to find him, he asks her to leave. He’s cold and indifferent toward her — she’s not what he wants, and he’s not interested in even friendship with her. All he wants is to mourn his lost family with Hannibal and Abigail. Again, Hannibal is Will’s priority.

Will imagines his perfect world as the one where he and Hannibal killed Jack together. This scene is intercut with his Mizumono memories, namely, with Hannibal's face that emerges every time he moves yet another part of the engine. This is a vivid demonstration of Will trying to repair what is now broken. When Jack asks him why he called him, Will is indifferent and genuine:

*Will: I wasn't decided when I called him. I just called him. I deliberated while the phone rang. I decided when I heard his voice … I told him to leave. I wanted him to run … Because he was my friend. And because I wanted to run away with him.*

That’s a big admission for Will. This is the first time he openly acknowledges Hannibal as his friend in front of another person. Chilton calls Will and Hannibal’s interactions a “flirtation” in this episode, which once again points us in the romantic direction.

The entire E2 of S3 is dedicated to Will’s love for Hannibal, where he argues about it with himself in the form of imaginary Abigail. This is another proof of Will’s problem with emotions in general and emotions for Hannibal in particular. He can’t just think to himself as normal people do — no, he can’t admit how much he loves Hannibal this. Instead, he imagines Abigail and talks to himself through her to make it easier. He berates himself for lying.

*Will/Abigail: We were all supposed to leave together. He made a place for us. Why did you lie to him? He gave you a chance to take it all back, and you just kept lying.*

Will is reverent about Hannibal; he keeps talking about him over and over again.

*Will: This isn't Hannibal, it's just where he begins. Beyond this, far and complex, light and dark, is the vast structure of his mind. A thousand rooms, miles of corridors. Everything he remembers, wonderfully and fearfully reconstructed.*

Will goes as far as lies at the place where Hannibal’s Valentine heart for him was, reconstructing this image and trying to feel close to him. The heart comes to life the moment Will touches it, which is romantic. Will says:

*Will: A valentine written on a broken man … I do feel closer to Hannibal here. God only knows where I would be without him … He left us his broken heart … He misses us.*

He looks on the verge of tears, so Hannibal’s gift touched him. Will is overcome by emotions. At this very moment, his more frightened side suggests that Hannibal is also playing with him.

*Will: Hannibal follows several trains of thought at once without distraction from any, and one of the trains is always for his own amusement.*

We know it’s not the case, especially here, but Will has trust issues and a low self-esteem. He’s worried that Hannibal’s feelings for him aren’t as strong as he thinks they are, which is why he’s not sure how to react himself. He asks himself, *“You still want to go with him?”* and replies, *“Yes.” He wonders about what life they’d have if they left.

*Will: What if no one died? What if we all left together? Like we were supposed to. After he served the lamb. Where would we have gone? … In some other world.*

Pazzi comes and tells Will that he hopes they’ll catch Hannibal together.

*Will: What makes you think I want to catch him?*

Later, Pazzi says:

*Pazzi: He let you know him. He sent you his heart.*

E2 ends with Will scaring Pazzi and telling him, *“You don’t know whose side I’m on.* Then he tells Hannibal he forgives him, which is also a huge step in his direction.

This entire episode proves that yes, Will loves Hannibal. Considering how he isn’t awkward from receiving a Valentine or hearing that Hannibal gave him his heart, Will shares the romantic aspect of Hannibal’s feelings for him. He regrets not running away with him and their daughter, he places himself on the floor where the heart was to feel closer to him — this is such a rich romantic subtext that it’s practically text. Especially for Will, who remains so conflicted and emotionally restrained all the time.

Will’s attitude changes after seeing Chiyoh. He becomes more bitter. Considering how dark he is in these scenes and how he constantly compares himself and Chiyoh, he likely sees her as someone Hannibal was supposed to love but easily abandoned. It makes Will draw the parallels between them, and he starts to doubt that Hannibal loves him, that his “broken heart” has any authentic meaning. That’s where he starts thinking about killing Hannibal again. He still says:

*Will: I’ve never known myself as well as I know myself when I’m with him.*

This line also speaks volumes. Hannibal gave Will a precious gift of understanding himself; he showed that he could accept him, and Will is drawn to it. Will admits the depth of their connection to yet another person. Then he makes a firefly from Chiyoh’s prisoner, a tribute that is clearly done with Hannibal in his mind, considering the style and the central topic.

Chiyoh sees right through Will’s emotional constipation. She implies that he should “kiss” Hannibal rather than keep being “violent”:

*Chiyoh: I told you, there are means of influence other than violence.*

She kisses Will then, thus showing him what others means exist. He doesn’t get it, though, since he responds to her kiss despite not feeling anything for her, and she pushes him off the train, likely admitting he’s a hopeless case.

Meeting Jack, Will tells him that a part of him will always want to leave with Hannibal. This is yet another declaration from him. Will isn’t scared of the consequences — he speaks of his feelings openly now. It’s a great development of his character.

But the feeling of doubt about Hannibal likely resurfaces further after Will sees that Hannibal replaced him and Abigail with Bedelia in E6 (hence his hatred for her since that moment). He mocks her alibi and then leaves to reunite with Hannibal. The following moment was deleted, but it still discloses some of Will’s romantic feelings:

*Will: I looked up at the night sky there. Orion above the horizon and, near it, Jupiter. I wondered if you could see it, too. I wondered if our stars were the same.*

From the words that did get into the episode:

*Will: You and I have begun to blur ... We're conjoined. Curious if either of us can survive separation.*

Will doesn’t just admit the bond between them, he elevates it the level of soulmates, implying they are one and the same. It’s also a declaration of love in his language. But love doesn’t stop Will from being vindictive, hurt, and angry, so after meetings with Chiyoh and Bedelia that affected his perception, he pulls out a knife as he and Hannibal are walking together.

There is a brain-sawing disaster after this and E7, where Will looks done and tired from the madness and his constant attempts to figure Hannibal out. He does bite Cordell before looking at Hannibal, seeking his approval; he uses “we” pronouns when speaking about Hannibal with Alana. One example:

*Will: You helped Mason Verger find us.*

So, he still sees himself and Hannibal as a team, but he’s still tired and bitter, so after everything is over, he hurts Hannibal by saying he doesn’t share his appetite and by attacking him emotionally.

*Will: I miss my dogs. I'm not going to miss you. I'm not going to find you. I'm not going to look for you. I don't want to know where you are or what you do. I don't want to think about you anymore.*

This is all personal and emotional. It sounds like a break-up, which is exactly how Bryan Fuller and others referred to it. When Hannibal leaves and Jacks arrives, Will puts on his glasses, an indication that he’s hiding again.

Fast-forward 3 years. Will is married now, but from the very start, we see that this marriage isn’t all people usually expect it to be. The first scene shows the family apart. Molly and Walter have gone fishing, which is something Will loves. He had dreams about teaching Abigail how to fish, but he doesn’t go to do that with his family, preferring to stay alone instead. It’s the first hint that his heart isn’t in this relationship, that he’s too hung up on the past to move forward and make new happy memories.

Jack came to drag him to Dragon’s case, and Will makes it look like he’s reluctant. At the same time, he doesn’t send Jack away, even though we know from the past that he has no qualms being frank when he wants to. More than that, he asks him not to show pics to Molly, but when they have dinner, Will deliberately leaves the house with Walter, leaving Jack and Molly together. At night, when Molly’s asleep, he crawls out of bed and goes to read Hannibal’s letter. He doesn’t tell the truth to Molly about himself and his dark urges, about everything he has done – Molly clearly has no idea who he truly is, considering how she jokes about his ‘criminal mind’ in later episodes and how Will immediately closes himself off from her. He never initiates physical touches with her; he doesn’t return her “I love you”, which is an even bigger indication of his lack of commitment. Will is emotionally stiff with Molly for the most part, and the only times he laughs with her or shows any emotion is when they are talking about superficial stuff in the former case and when he’s furious after Francis’ attack in the latter one. Other than that, there is no closeness or honesty.

Another point of Will’s inability to express or even give his love to someone is in his scene with Walter in E11. This child, his step-son, has just been attacked by a serial killer with his mother. His mother was hurt and they barely escaped. Will doesn’t hug him or offer him paternal emotional comfort; he’s very awkward. All he says is, “You're both safe here,” which is something an officer might say but not a father. Will was much more emotional in his fantasies about Abigail.

This is what Will says about Walter’s reaction to Jack:

*Will: He read about me in a Freddie Lounds article. I had to justify myself to an eleven year old.*

He’s resentful and not emotional. He doesn’t say, “I had to justify myself to my son!” – he distances himself from him. Will is cold. He has expressed his feelings for Hannibal at this point in rather poetic ways, but he can’t be bothered to do this for his wife and his son.

He treats Hannibal in a very reserved fashion too, in comparison to how he acted 3 years ago. However: first, there is the fact that he came to visit him in the first place. Will didn’t need his help, we saw very clearly how he managed to easily reconstruct the crime scene the night before. It proved that his mindset is in a good shape, so he didn’t need Hannibal’s assistance. But it’s Hannibal he requested to see right away.

Will distances himself from him by calling him “Doctor Lecter” and insisting that he’s more comfortable the less personal they are. His eyes glisten, though, and he can’t look away from Hannibal. The impersonal approach doesn’t last very long, too, and soon, they are talking like they always did. Hannibal accuses Will of marrying for false reasons.

*Hannibal: How did you choose yours? Readymade wife and child to serve your needs. A stepson or daughter. A stepson absolves you of any biological blame. You know better than to breed. Can't pass on those terrible traits you fear the most.*

Will doesn’t bother to deny it, though any man would have been offended, particularly if he truly loved his family. In Will’s case, from the experience and all the precedents, silence = agreement.

In E10, Will seeks Bedelia out. He acts catty and jealous, targeting her personal connection with Hannibal.

*Will: You didn't lose yourself, Bedelia, you just crawled so far up his ass you couldn't be bothered.* - personal, targeted against Bedelia's attachment to Hannibal.

*Will: You hitched your star to a man commonly known as a monster. You're the Bride of Frankenstein.* - personal, attack with romantic connotation. Bedelia catches up on it and mocks him:

*Bedelia: We've both been his bride. Have you been to see him?*

*Will: Yes.*

*Bedelia: Haven't learned anything, have you? Or did you just miss him that much?*

*Will: Have you been to see him?* - personal again. Will wants to know if Bedelia is keeping contact with Hannibal.

*Bedelia: I've seen enough of him. I was with him behind the veil. You were always on the other side.*

*Will: Something we should talk about.* - again, personal. It's all personal, which is why Bryan and Hugh called them Hannibal's jealous bitchy exes. Will is palpably jealous and he shows his resentment to Bedelia openly.

Later, we have some more romantic references.

*Bedelia: My relationship with Hannibal is not as passionate as yours. You are here visiting old flame. Is your wife aware of how intimately you and Hannibal know each other? … Your experience of Hannibal’s attention is so profoundly harmful yet so irresistible, it undermines your ability to think rationally.*

So, there is romantic text, parallels between Hannibal and Will’s wife, and Will doesn’t deny any of this again. He keeps coming to Bedelia because she’s the only person he can talk about Hannibal to without being watched.

After Hannibal sends Francis after Molly and Walter, Will spends about a minute being angry with him. Then he accuses Hannibal of staging a competition between him and Francis. It is startling: Will spent months, years mourning the loss of Abigail who he didn’t even really know personally, yet he forgets the gravity of what happened to his wife and won very quickly. He leaves Molly and Walter and tells Bedelia that they are finished. One traumatic event, and Will left. It coincides with something very important that happened here: after this, Will finally figures out Hannibal is truly in love with him. So he goes to Bedelia to discuss it with her.

*Will: Is Hannibal in love with me?*

*Bedelia: Could he daily feel a stab of hunger for you, and find nourishment at the very sight of you? Yes. But do you ache for him?*

Will is predictably silent. Obviously, if the answer was no, he would have said no. But he struggles because like we established, he has issues with expressing emotions. He only managed to start referring to Hannibal as his friend openly in this season, opening up about some of his feelings, but he’s not ready to go this far. It would be absolutely out of character for Will to say, “Yes, you know, I’m in love with him! Thanks for helping me see it.” Every confession Will makes is preceded by struggles and heartbreak. But he’s going to reply to Bedelia’s question, only not explicitly-verbally.

Will sets up Chilton and then comes to allegedly say good-bye to Hannibal. He lies several times in their conversation (about Chilton and Molly with Walter), so all his words are automatically suspicious. Regardless, he destroys Hannibal emotionally and walks away. Personally, I believe he was already planning to break him out, so he was playing it up for cameras and also taking a chance to hurt Hannibal for everything again. But whatever his plan was, what happens next is that Will conspires with Francis against Jack, Alana, and the FBI. They agree to break Hannibal out together. Will lies to Jack and then gets to ask Hannibal for help. He’s being flirty and manipulative in this scene.

*Will: I need you, Hannibal … You're our best shot, Hannibal. Please.*

He’s smirking, he leans close to Hannibal, he sends him a flirty look from under his eyelashes. Will is thoroughly enjoying himself, and he does it best when he has some excuse to hide behind.

Later, he lies to Jack and Alana again, leaks info to Francis (who nearly killed his wife and son), and gets many officers killed by proxy. He tells Bedelia the truth that he doesn’t “intend Hannibal to be caught a second time.” He also implies that he’s going to let him go free, which is why Bedelia should pack her bags.

*Bedelia: Can't live with him. Can't live without him. Is that what this is?*

This time, Will agrees, although in his way.

*Will: I guess this is my Becoming.*

For Will, Becoming was always connected to his feelings for Hannibal because accepting himself and his darkness meant being free to escape with Hannibal.

*Bedelia: You found religion. Nothing more dangerous than that.*

In E3, it was stated that love is a God (you can find more here https://www.reddit.com/r/HannibalTV/comments/7w54dg/lovegodreligion_s3_parallels/), so it’s possible to say that religion = love in this context. It certainly makes sense. Will is accepting himself and his emotions, and the trigger was establishing for sure that Hannibal is in love with him.

Will and Hannibal drive to the cliff house. When Hannibal asks Will if he intends to save himself by killing them both (Hannibal and Francis), Will replies:

*Will: I don't know if I can save myself. And maybe that's just fine.*

This is the first time he confesses that he might be incapable of killing Hannibal. Predictably, when Francis comes, Will can’t handle seeing Hannibal killed, so he reaches for his gun.

Will and Hannibal work as a unit and protect each other. Hannibal is shot, nearly strangled, thrown onto the ground, and he is still weakly holding on Francis' leg to prevent him from going after Will, even though it leaves him in an open and vulnerable position — Francis does kick him in the face with his other leg. There is fierce determination on Will's face as he stands up despite the pain and runs to save Hannibal. They act in synch, consummating their relationship.

Then, Will admires how blood looks on his hand and repeats Hannibal’s words:

*Will: It really does look black in the moonlight.*

He remembers the words Hannibal said to him weeks ago in one of their endless interactions. A bit earlier, he perfectly recalled the words Hannibal told him *years* ago, back in the middle of S2.

*Will: I understand that “blood and breath are only elements undergoing change to fuel your Radiance." Hannibal said those words. To me.*

So, Will remembers everything Hannibal told him. He stores these memories. It’s a small but still important proof how important Hannibal is for him.

At the cliff, Will finally accepts the truth.

*Hannibal: See. This is all I ever wanted for you, Will. For both of us.*

We know what Hannibal wanted: a Murder Husband. What does Will say to this?

*Will: It’s beautiful.*

This is a loud “yes” to Bedelia’s question about his feelings. Will acknowledges, accepts, and admires them. He doesn’t feel awkward, as he would if he knew Hannibal is in love with him but didn’t feel the same. No, he reaches forward to embrace him, and such physical contact from Will is mind-blowing because he almost never does it. He clings to Hannibal, puts his head on his shoulder, touches him as if he wants to melt with him. Then he gives the fate a chance to stop both of them or to set them free. They fall into the ocean under the Love Crime song, another romantic element.

Water symbolizes reborn, and post-credits scene indicates that Will and Hannibal have paid a visit to Bedelia and are in the process of eating her while she’s hiding the fork to stab one of them as he approaches. The deleted epilogue to the series shows that they are in perfect harmony now.

**Conclusion**: Will has passed through a long, painful journey. He went from hiding from emotions and deflecting to not denying and carefully acknowledging them. We don’t hear words “love” or “in love” from him in relation to Hannibal because Will is not that kind of person. He doesn’t use these words freely, and for him, every small emotional step is a struggle. He tried to deceive himself and other numerous times; he tied to deny the truth and manipulate his own mind, but with each season, his feelings for Hannibal became more and more explicit. Will reaching out for physical contact, Will saying “It’s beautiful” are his way of saying, “I ached for you. I love you.”

This is a story of mutual love and obsession, about soulmates, about unique type of connection that few people share. It’s not about Hannibal falling in love and Will not feeling the same. Their feelings are equally strong, but they express them differently, particularly as Will’s are tied to the acceptance of his own darkness.

[feeling-weirdy]

“I always thought Mr Darcy was overrated” for the quotes? (Obvs don’t worry about doing this immediately, finish all your other prompts first! I just can’t get the notion of Wanda and Vision as an Austen-like romance out of my mind 🤣) and thx for all your prompts, your writing is awesome 🥰☺️

With a loud groan, Wanda threw herself on the couch beside him. Laying her head against his thigh, Vision smiled down at her as she found a comfortable position.

"My everything hurts," she whined. A soft smile appeared on his face, running his hand slowly through her hair.  Holding his book back up to his face, he continued reading as they stayed in this position for several minutes.  She hummed softly in approval of his soft motions.

Her training had become more rigorous than she had expected. The other new members of the Avengers had moved on, already proving to be valuable members of the team.  Natasha felt that Wanda needed extra training with how uncontrollable and unruly her powers seemed to be.  Vision quite agreed with this idea.  Despite how in control Wanda appeared on a regular basis, it had been a far different affair in the heat of battle.

She had to be ready.  Far more so than she was at this very moment.

"What are you reading?”  Wanda’s peered up at him from the corner of her eyes, a soft yet exhausted smile gracing her delicate face. 

“The book you suggested.”  Vision closed the book, showing her the cover.  He had been close to finishing it, having no trouble with how long he found it to be.  “Pride and Prejudice.”  Wanda had confided in him how important the Jane Austin books had been to her and ever since that night he had looked forward to reading them.

“And?”  Wanda turned so that she was laying on her back, clearly interested in his reaction and thoughts.  

“It’s...quite different than I expected based on the title.”

“It’s quite the love story,” she sighed.  Reaching to the book, her fingers traced along the ornate design of the outside cover.  Clearly this book had been beloved by more than just Wanda herself as he had been told it was a classic, released many times over.  Vision’s eyes scanned her face, continuing to run his fingers along her forehead and hair.

“Indeed.  It’s fascinating.  I find myself drawn to this Mr. Darcy character...almost as if I can understand him on some level.”  The desperation that Darcy felt was mirroring his own heart.  A need to be understood and express himself in a way that would be reciprocated.  A pure, unfiltered love that was no longer able to be caged despite his every attempt.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.  It only gets better the more you read so don’t stop.”  Wanda pushed herself to her feet, stretching out her arms and rolling her head from side to side.  “I should probably get changed...”

Wanda started across the living room, causing his heart to jump in his throat.  His circuits tangled, chest feeling heavy, unable to keep himself at bay any longer.  He had to tell her.  These sweet moments of trust they built up together over the past few months were more precious to him than she could possibly understand.  While his feelings felt as if they were overflowing, words repeatedly failed him.  The beautiful confession he had read earlier seemed more perfect than anything he could come up with.

"’In vain I have struggled.’”  Vision stood, the words jumping out of his mouth without warning.  She stopped, turning back to him with wide, confused eyes.  “’It will no longer do.  My emotions will not be repressed.  You need to permit me to inform you the way ardently I appreciate and love you’," he quoted Mr. Darcy’s confession, hoping the true meaning would shine through his awkward demeanor.  Vision moved toward her, gently taking hold of her small hand as he desperately tried to convey these unusual emotions boiling within him.  “My apologies.  It seems my own words have once again fallen short.”

She was quiet for a moment, her mouth hung agape.  After a moment, the corners of her mouth twisted with a small chuckle.  "I always thought Mr. Darcy was overrated."

"And yet it was still your favorite."  Vision’s head fell to the side, a knowing glint in his eye.

"Touché…"  She responded softly, her gaze falling to their joined hands.  

“I...My feelings for you are quite the same however," he continued. "I find it difficult to fully express these emotions, but I do feel them.  Unable to escape and with nowhere to go.”  Vision cupped one side of her face with his hand, forcing her to look back at him while staring deep into her eyes.  “I don’t know if my feelings are to be returned, but I felt you must know.”

“Vis, I...I don't know what to say.”  Wanda obviously struggled with her own words, her fingers playing with his as she searched for her answer.  “I'm just...not sure. So much has happened to me since I arrived.  Spending time with you has been everything to me and I just...I need to think...”  She shook her head, face contorting at her endeavor.  “I-I-”

“There’s no rush for an answer.”  He stopped her, squeezing her hand one last time before letting go completely.  “Take all the time you require.  I’ll be here.”

He could feel Wanda’s bright eyes looking straight through him.  His chest tightened at the weird response he had received.  Through all the confessions he had seen or read about in his deep exploration into humanity, he could not recall it ever going quite like this.  Regardless, he knew what he must do.  Despite his need to know her reply, she needed time and that was exactly what he was going to give her.

“Soon, okay?  I just need time to...figure things out.”  Wanda smiled up at him, her brightness filling the room.  

“Of course.”  Vision ran his thumb over her cheek, a soft smile gracing his lips as he watched her turn back towards her bedroom.  She paused before entering, glancing back at him one last time as she gripped her door frame.

"So...you love me, huh?”  

"Most ardently,"  Vision nodded.  Watching her disappear into her room and shut the door, their eyes stayed connected until they no longer could.  The grin that danced along her face would be ingrained in his mind forever.  He would get his answer soon...or perhaps he just did.

Check out my other drabbles here or feel free to request some!

[specterchasing-a]

Eddie Carridine & Dani Edwards

A first attempt at analyzing Eddie’s relationships.

CONTENT WARNINGS: Depression, suicidal ideations (in the form of disregard for their own lives), and generally heavy topics such as loneliness and death.

At first glance, Eddie and Dani don’t seem to have much in common. She’s a dedicated slayer with a strict code, someone who values the importance of supernatural secrecy above almost all else. He’s a loose-lipped kid with a camera, preaching about how wonderful supernatural beings are. Needless to say, they clash—hard, but dig a little deeper than surface level and these two have more in common than they might ever know.

SOCIAL LIVES

Dan’s moms kept her on a rigid training schedule with little room for interpersonal relationships to develop. Eddie’s parents, albeit with vastly different motivations behind their actions, tried their best to keep him quiet and obedient. As one would assume, this kinda fucked them both up in a major way. Neither is particularly well-versed in navigating social situations, though that disadvantage presents itself in different ways between them. Dani keeps her emotions to herself and prefers to keep people at arm’s length while Eddie throws himself at whoever shows him an ounce of kindness. Different, yet alike, you feel me?

VIEWS ON DEATH

As a slayer, Dani’s gift is death (sorry, not sorry, for the Buffy reference) and Eddie, being a medium, has been surrounded by death since childhood. They cope with grief in different ways but both view death as something inevitable, maybe they even think that’s a good thing. Dani’s purpose is to die for the sake of humanity. If she doesn’t, she’s a failure. Eddie believes he doesn’t have a purpose outside of shepherding the dead and exposing the truth. Beyond that, he’s just a corpse waiting to happen. Neither Dani or Eddie view death as something to be afraid of. It is what it is, and it’ll probably come sooner rather than later.

STUBBORNNESS 

Yes, Eddie and Dani hold directly opposing views on the subject of supernatural secrecy but, more than that, they’re both assholes about it in the same way. When they first reunited at the grocery store and Dani saved Eddie’s life, Eddie blew up at her. He told her exactly what he thought and didn’t pull punches. It was not the first time Dani had been assaulted with narrow-minded stupidity and probably wouldn’t be the last. Initially, she bit back as she asserted her own views. Neither listened to the other, not really. Both of them were dead-set on believing the other was wrong, leaving no room for growth or understanding. They were like two unfortunately similar magnets pushing each other away.

IDEALS

Another instance of Dani and Eddie being alike, yet different can be seen in what motivates their actions. Clearly, they go about things with oppositional methods, but they are both driven by a need to make the world a safer place. Dani, rough-n-tough slayer that she is, is more interested in protecting humans and ridding the world of supernatural threats. By doing her job, she literally makes the streets of White Crest safer for its squishy, mortal  inhabitants. Eddie, on the other hand, wants the world to be safer for supernatural beings. He sees them as outcasts with targets on their backs, bogged down by unwarranted prejudices and falsely spun bad reputations. In his idea of utopia we’d all hold hands while we sing ‘We Are The World’ and outgrow things like murder and human sacrifice. If you ask me, neither of them have realistic expectations for how the world should treat supernaturals, but what matters is that they firmly believe they’ve got it all figured out and that the rest of the population needs to catch up with their massive brains. I realize this echoes a lot of what I said about their stubbornness but this is my impassioned rant about two idiots and I’ll be redundant if I want to.

ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIPS

Dani, considering she was raised to be a murder machine with a quickly approaching expiration date, doesn’t see love as a possibility for herself. For other people? Sure, but such luxuries shouldn’t be wasted on someone with a terminal birthright. Eddie, though this is quickly changing in lieu of his budding relationship with Alfie, never saw himself as someone who would fall in love either. Because of repression and guilt, he wanted to be right, too. Romantic love, whatever shape it took, was wonderful for everyone else. Let them fall into each other’s arms and make five-year plans together, Eddie would keep himself busy memorizing gravestones. Love scared him, so he left it alone. From what I can tell, Dani’s not scared of love—it’s just inconceivable to think she might experience it. Still, recent growth on Eddie’s part aside, they used to both be resigned to going through life alone.

LONELINESS

Okay, yeah, they’re resigned to going through life alone but, unfortunately for them, human beings are social creatures. Dani, I believe, might not always be aware of how much she needs other people but, at times, she reads as an exceptionally lonely character. On dash, characters have reached out to her after crises and her initial responses were always heartfelt and, most importantly, crossed out. Her first instinct is to show affection and concern because she does, in fact, know on some level that she needs people in her life but… that’s not supposed to be in the cards for her. Dani shelves her unfeigned distress in favor of lukewarm receptions. Some exceptions might be with Athena or a few other characters at times but, for the most part, Dani tends to isolate herself.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, we have Eddie. If someone says so much as one nice thing about him, he’s prepared to commit atrocities in their name. He’s not shy about it, either. He loves deeply and without prejudice. Recently, people have shown up in his life that give him countless chances to show-off how much devotion spills out of his heart on a daily basis. But it wasn’t always like that. For most of Eddie’s life, the majority of people he met made him feel like a freak. High school was hell for him, not that he’s unique for that. His fellow students tormented and ostracized him, his parents wanted nothing to do with him, and he struggled for a long-time trying to figure out how to love himself when no one else seemed to. That particular obstacle is still an issue but it’s thankfully becoming more manageable. However, even with new friends and old relationships being galvanized, it’s hard for him to believe the past won’t infect the present and future. Yesterday’s heartache comes back to him in aftershocks of loneliness and fear. No matter what, Eddie cannot  completely escape feeling alone. So, he and Dani sadly have that in common as well.

[hiscyarika]

Some Things You Just Can’t Speak About

Word Count: 2.5k

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Summary: Reader and Javier work through the emotional baggage that comes with their jobs in Colombia. (Unofficial Prequel to When It’s Finally Over)

Warning(s): Heavy Angst, Hopelessness, Grieving, Mentions of Death, Blood, Mentions of Violence/Terrorism

A/N: So like a lot of people, I’ve fallen in love with Taylor Swift’s new album folklore. And when I heard the song “epiphany” (which I highly recommend you listen to while you read. I would link it but I’m afraid the post wouldn’t show up in the tags. The hellsite has been weird about that lately), it immediately sparked the idea for this oneshot. I just hope that this hasn’t been done yet, because I’ve already seen that a couple of authors have used songs on the album as inspiration. I really hope you guys enjoy this. It’s taken a couple of days to get it just the way that I want it. And a special thanks to @bestintheparsec​ for beta reading this for me! I love you Lauren! ❤️

Masterlist

Tag Lists (Open!)

Gif by @pascvl​, originally from this post. Please let me know if you’d rather me not use the gif! I’ll take it down immediately with no questions asked.

The thing about Colombia is that even after the smoke clears, the blood remains. It’s a crimson river that runs through the streets of Bogotá, then dries as a deep, lingering stain. The blood of men, women, and children. Guilty and innocent alike. And so long as Pablo Escobar lives, the stain will never wash away.

Even the sky burns scarlet with the dying sunset when you finally step out of the hospital. Ambulance sirens glow bright as paramedics attempt to bring more people into the already overwhelmed building.

Early in the afternoon, over two hundred pounds of C4 had been detonated outside of a crowded shopping center. Dozens were killed on impact and the death toll has continued to rise throughout the day. For hours, you haven’t stopped moving, trying desperately to save those who’d survived long enough to get to the hospital to be treated. Fortunately, recovery will be possible for some, but what weighs more heavily on your shoulders are the countless others that you could do nothing for.

Even now that you stand outside with a chance to breathe, your lungs can’t draw in enough air. The sharp stench of antiseptic still burns your nose, turning your stomach in violent knots. Every muscle is sore with a bone deep ache as you force one foot in front of the other in the direction of your car. But none of it compares to the stabbing pain in your soul, the helplessness and defeat that throbs more fiercely with every passing second.

You climb into your car, meeting your own eyes in the rearview mirror. You tear the nursing badge from your scrub shirt and toss it onto the passenger seat, not caring when it slides off the vinyl and onto the floor. Immediately, you have to close your eyes at the sight of the bloodstains on your clothes, a gruesome token of a day spent battling death.

All your years of schooling never prepared you to fight this war. You know how to read vitals. You know how to staunch bleeding and stitch wounds. You know how to intubate someone, to breathe for them. These are all things that can be taught. And you’ve learned them well.

But watching a woman die on the table, one close to your own age, is something entirely its own. You never get used to the shrill cry of the heart rate monitor as it flatlines. Nothing can prepare you for standing in front of an elderly woman, telling her that she’s outlived her daughter. They can’t teach you how to crouch down in front of a six-year-old boy and explain to him that he’ll never see his mother again. There’s no way to gently shatter someone’s world. As their reality crumbles, it takes a piece of you with it, and you only have so much of yourself to give.

The drive back to the apartment passes in a blurred haze, your mind on autopilot as you navigate your way in the growing darkness. You repress every emotion that threatens to bubble to the surface of your consciousness. Forcing numbness is far easier than letting your humanity tear you apart.

The last of the light dies from the sky as you pull into the parking lot, right next to Javier’s Jeep. You find your only solace in the fact that he’s home. In what little news you’d been able to hear, you’d learned that the DEA had been called to the scene. Escobar had never claimed responsibility for the attack, but a confession wasn’t necessary to know the truth, so you knew Javier would be part of the investigation.

Sucking in a deep breath, you try to prepare yourself for whatever state of mind he might be in. Javier brings work home in the form of endless files and a guilty conscience. Both he processes with whiskey and sleep deprivation. But you understand. You’re fighting with him on the front lines of this war. Losses are shared just the same as victories. Even the hard ones.

You drag yourself from the driver’s seat, locking the car up once the door is closed. The stairs to the apartment seem so much steeper as you stare at them now, and it takes what little remains of your perseverance to make it up.

The usual squeal of the front door grates on your nerves as you enter the apartment, more so than it normally does, anyway. You stop for a moment in the doorway, toeing off your shoes and listening carefully for any sign of Javier. From where you stand, you can see the soft yellow glow of the lamp in the living room and after a moment you realize that the voice you hear is coming from the television.

Padding quietly into the room, you feel your heart clench when you see what’s playing on the screen. It’s one of the local news stations, replaying footage from earlier in the day. You’re too tired to mentally translate the quick Spanish that the news anchor speaks, but when the numbers appear next to her to note the casualties, it’s not something that you can ignore. There are more than you thought.

You lose yourself in that news report, your mind running back through all of the trauma that you’ve seen. The shouting and screaming and crying becomes the soundtrack of your thoughts, all blended together in a somehow deafening cacophony despite the fact that it’s all in your head. You see that little boy again, the confused look he had given his grandmother as he asked her when his mother was going to come back from heaven. Oh, how her tear-filled eyes had pleaded with you to give some kind of an answer. And you’d tried. You really had.

You’re pulled from the violent reverie when the news report is replaced by a commercial. You pay it no mind, instead looking around the room for any sign of Javier. It doesn’t take you long to find him.

He’s passed out on the couch, sitting up with a glass of whiskey still in his hand. Even in sleep, his brow is furrowed, and worry lines cut deep into his forehead. Upon further inspection, you find the liquor bottle and a messy array of manila folders on the wooden coffee table in front of him, just as you expected.

You shake your head slightly, though he can’t see the action. The ache in your heart grows stronger as you watch him, his lips parted slightly as he breathes deeply and evenly. You suppose it’s the one thing that you have to be grateful for. As closely involved as he is with the hunt for Escobar, every night he comes home is a blessing. And for him to be sound asleep despite the day’s tragedies is truly invaluable.

You decide to leave him. Better for him to rest uninterrupted than to wake him. And though you know it’s better to work through the horrors you’ve been subjected to before you sleep, you don’t have the energy to face any of it right now. So you step closer to Javi, carefully prying the glass from his hand. Against your better judgement, you finish it off. You wince at the way it burns down your throat as you place the empty glass on the coffee table, but the warmth in your chest that follows is a welcome relief.

You scan the room then. It takes you a minute, but eventually you find the remote on the floor by his feet, probably dropped after he’d fallen asleep. You don’t hesitate to press the power button on the TV, and it brings you a bit of peace to watch the screen go black. Silence falls over the room, interrupted only by a soft snore from Javi.

You turn back to the coffee table, making sure that there’s a paperclip in each file to mark where he’d been. All the while, you try to avoid reading over any classified information, not that your brain could truly process a word of it in your current state of exhaustion. You then close the folders and stack them neatly on top of each other, letting out a heavy breath as you push yourself to stand upright again.

Your face falls in sympathy as you look at Javi once more. Even in sleep he looks exhausted. Your own emotional turmoil aside, it pains you to see the way that Colombia has worn him down. Every day he grows more desperate to find the man responsible for so much suffering, and with each day that passes, you know it only seems like he’s getting further and further away. You wish there was something more you could do to ease his mind.

After another moment, you take the blanket that’s draped over the back of the loveseat, unfolding it and gently covering Javi with it. Your movements are slow and cautious in an attempt to keep from waking him. Once you have the blanket situated, you cradle his cheek lightly in one hand, leaning down to press a tender kiss to his forehead.

You close your eyes at the contact, the first and only gentle interaction of your day. As your eyes flutter shut, you feel your chest begin to swell, and emotion wraps around your throat like barbed wire. Your lips linger for a few seconds longer than necessary as the dam inside you cracks, threatening to give way to a flood at a moment’s notice.

But as you pull away, you feel the feather light brush of eyelashes against your cheeks. You open your eyes, finding soft, tired brown eyes staring back at you. You’re frozen in place as he takes a moment to rouse himself, and once he’s more alert, his eyes trail down your body, catching sight of the blood on your scrubs. When he looks at you again, there’s a knowing glint in his eyes. You don’t have to tell him what you’ve seen, because he already knows. He’s seen it too.

Javier places his hands on your hips, gripping them gently as he tries to pull you closer to him. You brace yourself against his shoulders, resisting him while you’re still wearing your scrubs. Your chin falls to your chest in defeat. It only takes a moment to understand, and he carefully pulls the shirt up and over your head, making sure to keep the bloody fabric away from your face. Once it’s off, he tosses it carelessly to the floor.

You collapse into him as the dam breaks, and he takes it in stride, cradling the back of your head as you bury your face in his shoulder. Your knees land on either side of him, and with his free hand he guides you into a more comfortable position against him. In any other context, this arrangement with you straddling his lap would be carnal and passionate, but all Javier can feel now is the same pain that you force from your body with each gut-wrenching sob.

There are no words he can give you that will ease your pain. It’s something he knows from experience, repeated experience that he wishes you didn’t share with him. He knows what this constant fight against death and injustice can do to a person. He’s not blind to the ways that he’s changed in the years since he came to Colombia. Javier would do anything to make sure that you don’t suffer the same fate. You’re too good to have your gentle soul torn to shreds.

But he knows that all he can do for now is hold you. He can let you cry and mourn and release every emotion you’ve had to keep caged since you first stepped into the hospital this afternoon. And as you wrap your fists around the fabric of his shirt, he only holds you closer, clutching you tightly as his own pain begins to bubble back up into his chest. He’d tried so hard to drown it in booze and escape it in sleep, but Escobar had taken it too far this time. The saving grace is that the rest of the country agrees.

Javier cries silently with you, and though the manifestation of his grief is much quieter than yours, it’s by no means trivial in comparison. This is the straw that breaks the camel’s back. And break he does, in the safest place that he possibly can. He knows that there’s no judgement here, and that there never will be. So he closes his eyes and presses himself closer to you, your proximity being the only thing that could possibly soothe him.

Time is rendered tangential as you mourn together, though eventually you both fall quiet again with no more tears left to shed. Only when you stir against him does Javier lift his head and open his eyes. He manages a halfhearted smile as you meet his gaze, gently wiping away the remnants of your tears with the pads of his thumbs. In turn, you do the same for him, and he turns his head just in time to press a kiss to the underside of your wrist before you pull away again.

He watches you intently, and for just a moment you seem to hesitate, but then you capture his lips with yours. Javier lets out a soft breath in surprise, but soon melts into your touch. You are the salve to his very being, soothing his soul in a way that no one and nothing else can. At the end of the day, when the smoke has cleared and it’s time to count the dead, he thanks whatever god looks down on him, because he has you. Never will he march into battle alone. And he’s grateful, because he knows that he would never survive the war without you by his side.

You pull away again, and the look in your eyes says far more than words ever could. Because in your eyes is the same reverence for him that he holds for you. It’s night like this where you question why you chose the life you did, why you endure more anguish than any one person ever should have to. But then you look at Javier, and you know that you’re fighting the good fight. You know that with him, you can keep going until you reach the end of it all.

Javier presses a quick, soft kiss to your forehead, then shifts again to turn out the lamp light. In the dark, he carefully maneuvers you with him to lie down on the couch. You’re both still in work clothes and the couch is far less comfortable than your shared bed, but that’s not important now. What matters is the feeling of his heartbeat under your cheek as your head rests on his sternum. In just a few hours, the sun will rise again and you’ll both be forced to return to the battlefield, but for now you can find just a glimpse of relief in each other’s embrace.

-

Permanent Tags: @bestintheparsec​ @hail-doodles​ @aerynwrites​ @murdermewithbooks​ @themandjalorian​ @longitud-de-onda​ @readsalot73​ @lovingtheway​ @talesfromtheguild​ @mystical-934​ @tiffdawg​ @lokiaddicted​ @adikaofmandalore​ @blue-space-porgs​ @forever-rogue​ @acomplicatedprofession​ @fleurdemiel145​ @cable-kenobi​ @opheliaelysia​ @pedropascalito​ @creamysacrilege​ @bandofmarvels​ @paryl​ @phoenixhalliwell​ @agentmoonshine1​ @randomness501​ @starlight-starwrites​ @keeper0fthestars​ @stilllivindue2spite​ @hdlynn​ @theocatkov​ @coonflix​ @synystersilenceinblacknwhite​ @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​ @wickedfrsgrl​ @frietiemeloen​ @liadamerondjarin​ @pancakefancake​ @someplace-darker​ @dontjudgemedude @mistermiraclee​ @pynch-bug​ @kaetastic​ @chrisbostonevans​

[thebluelemontree]

Is it wrong to say that Sansa uses an out of sight out of mind coping mechanism? I noticed it because it's what I do a lot. I know some ppl say she rewrites traumatic memories to make the memories bearable but it doesn't make sense. If that was how she coped, wouldn't she have been telling herself lies about Joffrey still in acok? Or found a way to erase/rewrite Marillion's attempt to rape her?

Yes and no. She does that except all the times she doesn’t. ;) I think that characterization is extremely reductionist (and ignores character complexity and  growth) when it’s applied that broadly to every situation Sansa has been in. You have to take these things instance by instance because they aren’t all the same. Sometimes that labeling doesn’t fit at all. In many cases, it feels more like the fandom pathologizing the act of romanticizing or trying to push aside or reframe something unpleasant or even traumatic when that’s just something most human beings do now and then. Some do it more than others, but its all within the realm of typical coping behavior and being older or more educated or more “logical” doesn’t make one immune to it. So I hope you don’t let those interpretations make you feel abnormal or more fallible for identifying with Sansa in that way. Romanticizing doesn’t even have to be about coping at all, but simply expressing desire through daydreams. People imagine being in idealized scenarios with crushes all the time.  

You also hit the nail on the head. Sansa just doesn’t go around making up false narratives about every objectively awful thing that happens to her. In fact, her actual responses to those moments can be a useful basis for comparison when we’re analyzing the unkiss, for example. Misunderstanding the unkiss is usually where a lot of these assumptions stem from. That’s a whole other can of worms in itself. The unkiss is just too long of a discussion to put here, so I just recommend this post as to the reasons why it isn’t about trauma and take a browse through my unkiss tag. It does bear repeating that Sansa factually remembers every scary thing that happened during the Blackwater and why it happened, indicating she has processed it honestly and critically, before any incarnation of the unkiss happens. The unkiss is a mismemory added on to the facts, which began as her being the actor that kissed him first. It’s not a lie to deny the facts or to excuse his behavior. It’s regrettable to her that Sandor was not able to be the person she could rely on to get her out of KL at that time. Nonetheless, this repressed desire is just so strong in her that it manifested in a kiss so real she could remember how it felt after the reality of his leaving KL for good sank in. 

Early AGOT Sansa tended to want to move past unpleasantness rather quickly. Just sweep those red flags under the rug so everything can go back to blissful harmony. Sansa is naturally averse to conflict and just wants her present with the royal family to be smooth sailing into a bright future. Ned had a very similar tendency when it came to concerns over Robert’s true character. He saw things that disturbed him, but he hoped and clung to his idea of Robert anyway. For Sansa, this resulted in some misplaced blame and rewriting events so she could deal with the aftermath. This is mostly seen in her processing the Mycah incident after Lady’s death and how her perception of all the characters involved shifted in varying ways. This is after she knew perfectly well what really happened, because Ned says Sansa had already told him the truth of what Joffrey did while Arya was still missing. However, it would also be unfair to completely chalk this up to Sansa’s idiosyncrasies. We have to put her flip-flopping in the context of the situation as well. She’s also experienced a gutting loss with Lady’s death and the fact that the first blow to her innocence was her father volunteering to put Lady down. She doesn’t have Catelyn to go to with her confusion and hurt, and Ned has largely been silent. She’s also still engaged to Joffrey through all this, this is still a patriarchy, there are political ramifications to speaking against a crown prince, and she doesn’t know how to deal with seeing such cruelty and vindictiveness in her future husband. Especially when he responded to her tender concern and wanting to help him with venom and hate. 

I mean, jeez, she’s 11. I don’t expect an 11 year old to understand how to identify the signs of emotional manipulation or see how this situation can escalate into domestic violence. Just because Sansa can’t articulate what is happening within her relationship with Joffrey, doesn’t mean she has blocked out any notion that Joffrey can turn his anger on her. Part of the reason she misplaces blame on Arya (and rewrites what happened) is because Joffrey turns scornful of Sansa for being a witness to his emasculating shame. He punishes her with the cold shoulder because she didn’t immediately take his side and pretended not to see instead. He regains power through making Sansa feel small and fearful of his moods. 

“He had not spoken a word to her since the awful thing had happened, and she had not dared to speak to him.” -- Sansa II, AGOT.

Sansa looked at him and trembled, afraid that he might ignore her or, worse, turn hateful again and send her weeping from the table. -- Sansa II, AGOT.

This is coming from someone who is supposed to love her and someone she will spend the rest of her life with. To fix things, she must be unequivocally on Joffrey’s side going forward or suffer the consequences, which we can see happening as her story completely flips over breakfast sometime later. This is not saying Sansa is fully exonerated from not supporting her sister when she needed her, but that it’s understandable how she arrived at this point. Even when things start to get really bad after Ned’s arrest, Sansa still holds out some hope that she can appeal to Joffrey’s (and Cersei’s) love for her to get him to be merciful. Is it really her fault she believed a part of Joffrey really loved her (and thus was reachable by her pleas) if he also heavily love bombed her and treated her like she was the most special girl in the world? Love bombing is a classic feature of the seduction phase leading up to abuse.  

So we can see Sansa does ignore truths and rewrite events sometimes and her personality is a factor; however, the context surrounding it matters a lot. Post Ned’s execution, Sansa does a full 180 regarding Joffrey and Cersei.

Sansa stared at him, seeing him for the first time. He was wearing a padded crimson doublet patterned with lions and a cloth-of-gold cape with a high collar that framed his face. She wondered how she could ever have thought him handsome. His lips were as soft and red as the worms you found after a rain, and his eyes were vain and cruel. "I hate you," she whispered. -- Sansa VI, AGOT.

Once she had loved Prince Joffrey with all her heart, and admired and trusted his mother, the queen. They had repaid that love and trust with her father's head. Sansa would never make that mistake again. -- Sansa I, ACOK. 

"A monster," she whispered, so tremulously she could scarcely hear her own voice. "Joffrey is a monster. He lied about the butcher's boy and made Father kill my wolf. When I displease him, he has the Kingsguard beat me. He's evil and cruel, my lady, it's so. And the queen as well." -- Sansa I, ASOS. 

There’s also her conscious efforts to push away thoughts of her dead family and Jeyne Poole, but she states why she does that. It’s traumatic, the tears start flowing uncontrollably, and she is desperately trying to avoid falling into another suicidal depression. Her survival in KL depends on her holding it together and appearing loyal and obedient to Joffrey. Mourning her loved ones would imply to Joffrey she is plotting treason. Besides, she knows that even if she did ask Cersei or LF about Jeyne, she has no reason to believe they’d do anything but lie to her face in a patronizing way. There’s no point being plagued with wondering what the truth might be when she can’t do anything about it. Still, she prayed for Jeyne wherever she might be. She genuinely thought Arya had made it to WF on the ship and was safe at least until she got word of her brothers’ deaths and her home being sacked by the Iron Born, though there was initially a touch of projection and fantasizing about Arya being free while she remains captured. As of Feast, she believes she is the last Stark left alive and she has no one but Littlefinger to help her. So while she is suppressing her grief, it’s done with good reason, and it’s not being replaced with any false narratives to cope. 

We also cannot ignore that her relationship to Sandor Clegane has instilled in her an appreciation for the un-sugarcoated truth now that she has experienced betrayal and injustice first hand. In his own way, he’s encouraged her to listen to her own inner bullshit detector. The rose-tinted glasses have become a lot more clear compared to where she started. This is a newly learned skill though, and her self-confidence has been wrecked by internalized verbal abuse. She’s also been left on her own to figure out people’s intentions by herself, which runs parallel to her mounting desperation to get out of KL as Joffrey’s violence escalates. Developing a touch more of a jaded, skeptical side does sometimes clash with her enduring idealism and faith in other people (like with the Tyrells). This struggle is not a bad thing. The goal isn’t to become as cynical as the Hound, but to arrive at an earned optimism that has been tempered by wisdom and practical experience.

Her situation with Littlefinger is much more challenging than anything she faced in KL. He moves her where he wants her to go with complex web of lies, manipulation, grooming, isolation, coercion, dependence, guilt and shame. Her safety and desire to go home are tightly bound to being complicit in his lies and criminal activities. She feels indebted to him for getting her out of KL, even though his methods push her past her boundaries and force her to compromise her moral integrity. The thing is, there are things Sansa does know about LF, but she doesn’t seem to be ready to try and put the puzzle pieces together. She’s not daring to ask probing questions about Lysa’s reference to the “tears” and Jon Arryn or about the possible dangers of Maester Colemon prescribing sweetsleep for Robert’s convulsions. While the subject of Jeyne’s fate is still one she doesn’t want to revisit, somewhere in her mind she does know LF took custody of her friend. If it feels like this is somewhat of a regression back to her early AGOT self, there’s probably some truth to that; however, it’s perfectly okay for positive character arcs to be an imperfect progress. There can be relapses, regressions, setbacks, missteps, and misguided actions. All that growth isn’t lost. Everything she knows is just stored in the back of her mind, not forgotten completely. The general trend line moves her toward successfully confronting Littlefinger with the truth when GRRM is ready to pull the trigger. She’s definitely aware of Littlefinger lying to her more than she lets on and she knows his help is not out of the kindness of his heart, but motivated by what he wants her to be to him. But it’s not like she has the option to go anywhere else, does she? She’s a wanted criminal with a bounty on her head and has no other friend or ally in the Vale she can trust with the truth of her identity. Confronting LF without any means of neutralizing his power over her isn’t the smartest thing to do when he’s shown her he can literally get away with multiple murders. Again, it’s not just her personality that makes her hesitant to pull back the veil and face the horrible truth head on. The outside forces pressuring her perceptions and behavior cannot be discounted either.