#but i never know where to find specific verses or what the context is behind a verse i want to use

[eddis-not-eeddis]

Does anyone have any good tips and tricks for studying the bible at home by yourself?

I read the bible every day, but I don't really study it, and even though I know a lot of topics and verses off by heart, I still don't always know what context a specific verse may be in when it comes to mind or where it is in the bible, and I want to get better at that.

I am really not doing well in my attempts to really study the bible, and I want to know if anyone else has any insights or some wisdom to share.

[branches-of-time]

The House That Built Me

“Figured you’d either still be at the tavern, or were already home wondering where I was.”

He smiles at you, soft, before looking away. “I was at the tavern most of the day, like I planned this morning. But… something didn’t feel right. I wasn’t really… giving it my all, and I think the patrons could tell.”

You frown. “What didn’t feel right? Are you okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine, Windblume. I’m just fine.”

You aren’t convinced. “Then, uh… do you feel like sharing what isn’t fine?”

His gaze drops to the dark sea below. “I think you know what it is, actually.”

Cryptic as ever, you take a moment to ponder what he might mean. He takes the silence as an opportunity to elaborate. “I never really wonder where you are, you know?"

~~~~~~~

Inazuma, all raging storms and war-torn, is calling your name. Shamefully, you find yourself running north instead, searching for something, anything to fill this home-shaped void in your heart.

Maybe, just maybe, you’ll come to find that home is a person, more than a place.

Pairing: Venti x Reader - Established Relationship, GN!Reader

Word Count: 11,033

Contains: [angst (with a happy ending)] [crying] [cuddling] [emotional hurt/comfort] [lack of communication] [loneliness] [memories] [not canon compliant] [pet death] [Reader & Venti are both adults] [Reader is not Traveler but they essentially take their place in the game's plot] [self-deprecating reader] [separation anxiety] [set prior to Version 2.0] [songfic]

A/Ns: This is a songfic! Title and verses written throughout the fic are from the song- "The House That Built Me" by Miranda Lambert.

Lastly, some context- Reader is a Riftwolf-Human hybrid, can manipulate all seven elements but has an affinity for Geo.

I know they say you can't go home again.

Sand, warmed by the afternoon sun, swells between your spread fingers as you press your hands down into the ground at your sides. Summoning a modicum of Geo elemental energy, your hands meet no resistance as they sink into the compacted grains like a hot knife through butter. You drop your raised shoulders and let your hands bury several inches into the beach until the sand surrounding them is cool, untouched by the heat of the day.

Dismissing the energy you’d been using to repel it, you allow the ground to resist you again. You note the weight of the sand as it presses down on the backs of your hands, and the firm bed of grains packed beneath your palms. You shut your eyes and flex your fingers slightly, focusing on the soft grit of Falcon Coast as it surrounds your hands in its weighted embrace.

Breathing a heavy sigh, you reopen your eyes, dropping your head and cursing the earth beneath you. This attempt at grounding yourself is doing little to ease the knot in your stomach, nor the tightness in your chest. Looking up and out across the expanse of ocean before you, the sight of Musk Reef looming in the distance doesn’t help either. You refuse to allow your gaze to drift any further south.

You begin to ask yourself what you’re even doing here, and why you thought this was a good idea. You’re no stranger to fleeing to Mondstadt whenever the world overwhelms you, but this specific beach perhaps wasn’t the wisest choice. Certainly not when the very thing you’re running from is the sea.

You hadn’t put much thought into where to go, you just knew you wanted to go home. Materializing at the waypoint east of Windrise was simply instinctual. Though, when you arrived, you didn’t turn and head north like you had so many times before. No, you took a running jump off the cliff below, gliding south and landing on the coast.

Sitting here now though, hands buried in the same sand you first washed up on after clawing your way out of the abyss… it’s not as comforting of a spot as you thought it might be. You don’t feel grounded at all, caught up between memories of the past and fears of the future.

Tugging your hands out of the sand with a frustrated huff, you turn your head to glance behind you at the cliff to the north.

…Maybe you should’ve gone that way instead. Maybe you should go home.

 I just had to come back one last time.

Materializing at the earlier waypoint once again, you pause to collect yourself for a moment. Making frequent use of the waypoints, especially in your current state, isn’t very wise. Then again, you aren’t in a very wise state. Taking a deep breath to dispel the dizziness, you let the warm breeze caress your cheeks. Looking around from your current vantage point, you find yourself grateful for the lack of people in the area. Even Chloris is currently nowhere to be found.

Well, at least you can think in peace. Jumping down from the crumbling ruin, you steady yourself against an archway, narrowly avoiding crushing a small patch of lamp grass. …Perhaps you should’ve taken another moment to collect yourself. Perhaps you shouldn’t be wandering through the wilds all on your own, in such a state.

You scoff at the latter thought. This is Mondstadt, and you’re… you. What’s the worst that could happen?

Pushing aside the thought that more alone time may not be what you need right now, you think yourself through your predicament once again as you set off on a walk.

-

You’d been reluctant to leave Mondstadt and set out for Liyue, despite knowing that you’d get no further answers to your myriad of questions here. Not to mention the nagging, relentless tug of fate, pulling you away from the nation you’d come to call home. You knew full and well that you’d have to leave. You’d find no peace in an attempt to ignore the call, and settle here indefinitely.

Still, that didn’t stop you from milking your time here as much as possible. You’d gotten to a first name basis with nearly every soul in the city by the time you ran out of tasks to busy yourself with. Gained quite the notable reputation for yourself in the process too, although that hadn’t been your goal. You truly just didn’t want to leave.

You’d trekked over every hill, passed through every valley, climbed to every peak and turned over every stone and leaf along your way. You explored the nation’s ruins, deciphered inscriptions half faded into their stone, and felled every field till- …ruin guard that stood in your way. You’d braved the frozen peaks of Dragonspine, and gained a newfound appreciation for the Pyro element in the process.

You stood atop the celestial nail, looking out through the blizzard and over the expanse of land to the southwest.

The vast, foreign land that laid before you scared you more than the journey to the top of the nail had.

After all, you didn’t fear falling. The wind at your back would surely catch you, you had no doubt.

Flecks of Cryo stung, colliding with the flushed, exposed skin of your face. You closed your eyes, balance wavering slightly as a result. A small arm was quick to wrap itself around your waist.

No, you didn’t fear falling. You feared leaving.

You leaned into the safety of your Archon’s hold, their concerned voice perfectly audible in spite of the blizzard winds surrounding you. “Are you alright? Do you need to get down?”

You feared leaving him.

-

Leaves from the end of a tree branch brush against your perked ears, pulling you back into the present. Shaking your head and drawing your ears down on instinct, you look around and realize your muscle memory has carried you the rest of the way home. Tucked away against a small cliff south of the Thousand Winds Temple, stands an even smaller cottage, forgotten to time. An Anemo Samachurl paces in circles in the yard, and its Geo counterpart sits on the old stone stairs leading into the home.

Ma'am, I know you don't know me from Adam.

The Geo Samachurl turns to look at you, and you give it a small wave in acknowledgement. Its attention lingers on you for only a moment longer, before turning back to continue watching its Anemo companion instead. A smile plays on your lips, tight and bittersweet.

You make no move to continue approaching, instead opting to back up a few paces and lean against a nearby tree, observing.

They can sense enough of your shared origins, or- maybe it’s the lingering abyssal energy on you… regardless, they can sense something on you that they recognize. Nothing specific, but something familiar enough that they feel no need to take up arms upon the mere sight of you. In all honesty, you feel the same. Their presence here doesn’t pose any genuine threat, so you’re content to leave them be.

In the many months that have passed since Venti and you moved out of this place, it’s become a haven for others. Whether it be traveling adventurers seeking shelter for a night, wildlife seeking refuge from a passing storm beneath the awning, or even your old Khaenri’ahn kin seeking a place to camp, the cottage has served many.

The both of you have kept a distant eye on the place since your departure. Though, Venti has found himself remaining more distant than you since these Samachurls have set up camp. While your presence doesn’t ring any alarm bells for them, the same cannot be said for Venti. While he holds no ill intent toward them either, something about the aura he emits sets them instinctively on edge.

You can hardly blame them. You’d raised your hackles and bared your teeth at the bard, defensive upon your first encounter as well. Looking back, he was hardly posing any threat then either, but at the time, you viewed everyone and everything as a potential enemy. After all, you’d just escaped the abyss and been tossed to the shore of Falcon Coast by the waves, your weaker control over Cryo failing you halfway across your attempt at an ice bridge. Waking up on hot sand to find a humanoid being with an unsettling gaze emanating a suspiciously divine aura above you was more than enough to kick your fight or flight into gear.

You attempted both, in that order. You immediately dug your hands into the sand and threw fistfuls of it at the stranger, successfully disorienting them and giving you an opening to flee. With nothing but ocean to the east, you bolted west, and then north, headed for higher ground intent on gaining an advantage.

Looking back now, you know nothing could’ve stopped Venti if he’d truly wanted to catch you. At the time, though, you felt pretty confident in having outrun him. By the time you felt like you’d lost him, you found yourself also lost amidst trees, the uneven terrain obscuring your sense of direction. So- tired, thirsty, hungry, scared, and confused- you dropped from a run to a walk. Pressing forward in the direction you’d run in, you kept your ears at attention to catch any threat before it could catch you.

-

The Anemo Samachurl breaks from its quiet chanting and pacing, its sudden cry pulling your focus from the past. From the way it points and takes off in a run, and the way its Geo counterpart rises to follow behind, you assume it must have seen something in the woods that caught its attention. You see nor sense nothing of note, and dismiss the likely false alarm. Probably just wildlife, or perhaps a Dendro slime looking to play. As the two little shamans run off into the trees, you take advantage of the vacancy they leave behind.

But these handprints on the front steps are mine.

You figure you’ve got enough time for a quick visit before they return. Besides, the worst that’ll happen if they do catch you in their “camp” will be a few disgruntled spells cast toward you as you hightail it out of there. It’ll be fine.

Approaching the trio of old stone steps that lead to the front door, your gaze catches on two handprints engraved into the highest stair. Memories begin to surface.

-

Sitting on the stairs with your back pressed to the door, you found yourself growing frustrated with the green-clad individual in your yard. Well, perched in one of the trees in your yard, to be precise.

You’d taken up residence in this old run-down cottage once it seemed that no one else had been occupying it. The first few days had been blessedly peaceful, it seemed the area was rather devoid of other life. Well, threatening life, at least. There were plenty of plants and animals, plus a little pond close by, providing far more sustenance than you’d grown used to surviving on. You figured it was as good of a place as any to try and sort out your next move. You hadn’t put much thought into what you’d do once you escaped, after all. You found yourself feeling… lost. After charging ahead with your focus locked on a single goal for so damn long… you didn’t know what to do with yourself now that you’d achieved it.

You weren’t lost for long though. The nosy stranger that found you on the beach proved to be the next target of your focus. Your peaceful existence in this cottage overlooking the sea didn’t last long before you found yourself in their unwanted company once again. They might’ve thought they were subtle, hiding amongst the treetops and watching you quietly.

They weren't. You could sense them. Hell, even if it weren’t for the strange aura they emanated, you could smell them. They carried a strong scent of fermentation with them, and you could easily pick up on the pungent smell in the wind.

On the third day of your silent standoff, you grew fed up with this stranger’s odd behavior. You only knew one way of settling things, and that was face-to-face, not through some weird game of observation. You cleared your throat, preparing your underused voice and searching for your words. Tilting your head back to look at the trespasser, you snarl at their relaxed stance, laid back across a branch like they’re asleep.

“Come down.” You bark the command up into the trees.

The stranger doesn’t comply, but they do acknowledge you, opening their eyes and turning their head to look down at you. “So you can speak!”

You’re in no mood to entertain their conversation, certainly not before making sense of their intentions. “Come. Down.” You repeat, voice flat and serious.

“Are you gonna throw sand in my eyes again?” Light and playful, they question you.

You huff. “No.” Not without good reason, at least, you think to yourself but fail to vocalize.

They hum in thought for a moment before going quiet again. You let the seconds pass, growing more irritable with each one. Just as you’re about to call them down once again, they roll to the side, willingly falling from the branch they’d been laying on. Your muscles twitch and lock for a moment as you stop yourself from… from… from what? What were you going to do, run and try to catch them? Why would you do that? They’ve done nothing for you.

Your lack of action proves itself inconsequential as the stranger falls at a remarkably slow speed. It’s less of a fall and more of a… decent, you suppose, seeming to effortlessly defy gravity. Righting themself midair to land on their feet, they pull their cape forward on their shoulders, beginning to approach you.

You plant your hands firmly on the stone at your sides, readying yourself for anything.

“While that wasn’t the most convincing answer, I suppose I can extend a bit of trust to you. I sure hope you don’t make me regret it though!” They come far closer to you than anyone with a sense of self-preservation ought to. They hold a hand out between you, and you stare at it, waiting for something to happen. “I’m Venti, a bard from the city.”

Finally getting your first proper look at them up close, you’re struck with the strangest sense of recognition. You couldn’t pinpoint it to save your life, but… something about this person feels… familiar. Distant, hazy, and inexplicable, but it’s there nonetheless.

You don’t like it.

When you make no move to do… whatever they seem to want you to do with their hand, they drop it, and you flinch at the sudden motion. Frowning, they question you. “Might I ask for your name in exchange, my dear trespasser? We can hardly get to know one another without exchanging some basic information.”

Your brows pinch in frustration at the stranger's many words. They say a lot, and they say it fast. It’s been… you can’t recall how long it’s been since you last held such conversation. One word stands out to you, though. “Trespasser? Me?”

He nods. “Well, technically, yes! I don’t know much about you yet but I do know that this isn’t your house.”

“How?” You question, eyes narrowing, watching as they stupidly step even closer.

“How do I know that this isn’t yours?” They question you in return.

You nod, claws sharpening, palms itching with pent-up Geo energy crackling beneath your skin.

“Because it’s mine, silly!” They laugh, reaching out toward you.

Your instincts take over as the stranger moves to grab you, and you force your hands into the stone beneath you. Releasing the Geo energy you’d been holding onto, you use the repelling force to launch yourself up off the stairs and at the fool standing before you.

You don’t make contact with them though, stumbling forward into what suddenly becomes thin air and tripping over nothing, sending yourself straight to the ground. Righting yourself before you can even register the impact, your claws tear through the dirt and grass as you turn back to face your opponent on all fours.

You freeze at the sight of them, casually propped against the railing of the stairs, clearly not poised to fight. With no weapon in their hands, and refusing to take on any sort of combative stance, you find yourself locked in a one-sided stand-off.

Not taking their eyes off you, the stranger pats the banister they’re leaning against. “I wasn’t reaching out for you, friend.” As you process their words and the seconds turn into a minute, they make no move to attack you, so you slowly let your guard down. Just slightly. Bending at the knees, you settle in a deep squat on the ground.

When the stranger seems confident enough that you aren’t about to throw yourself at them again, they allow their attention to leave you and fall to the step where you’d just sat. Following their gaze, you notice two handprints now carved into the stone, the very edge of the stair chipped away in places where your claws had caught on it.

You ready yourself for an attack, as this stranger surely won’t take kindly to destruction of, apparently, their property. But they make no move to do any such thing. They simply look back up at you with a knowing smile.

“You take after Morax, I see.”

Up those stairs in that little back bedroom, is where I did my homework and I learned to play guitar.

Smiling and shaking your head at the memory, you make your way into the small home. It’s rather bare, even more so than it had been when you first found the place. The two of you had taken all of your personal possessions with you into the teapot, leaving nothing but the basic furniture behind. After all, you had far better options awaiting you through Tubby’s sub-space creation.

Seeing the cottage in its original state, it once again becomes clear to you just how little Venti had customized the place prior to you moving in. He didn’t, and still doesn’t have much to his name, truly living the life of the wandering bard he identifies as. Most of what he does have he keeps on his person, whether that be in the physical sense, or dematerialized and stored away.

The cottage turned into a bit less of a shelter and more of a home over the many months you spent there with him. You stocked the little kitchen with far more than just his assortment of fruits, and an array of objects you collected from your outings lined the shelves. Looking back now, with a bit more insight on your own mental and emotional states, you venture a guess as to your behavior. You were likely hoarding whatever you found as a means of making up for how long you spent having nothing.

Venti never shamed you for it, even though he likely understood the behavior from the beginning. He was incredibly empathetic, and kinder than you felt you deserved, even once parts of your past became known to him. It took some time, given your struggle to keep up with his words, and the bigger struggle of finding your own. You managed to get it across to him eventually though, and he’d been benevolent enough to take you in.

-

You come to a stop in the bedroom doorway, surveying the place through the lens of the past.

You remember countless hours spent at the small desk in the corner, hunched over paper with text on it that you couldn’t decipher. Venti stood beside you, one hand on your shoulder, patiently teaching you how to make sense of the symbols you saw.

You remember less stressful hours spent sitting on the floor, curiously plucking at the strings of the bard’s various instruments with your claws. He’d sit on the bed watching you, naming the notes and teaching you how to turn your discordant noise into beautiful music. You were never as good as he was though, and you really didn’t mind. You preferred to listen to him playing, anyway. The bard possessed a beautiful voice, and the soft songs he’d sing to you in the dark of night never failed to put your tormented mind at ease.

Staring at your designated spot on the floor, you laugh at the memory of countless nights spent refusing his invitations. He’d offered his bed to you from the beginning, insisting that you deserved it more than he did. Besides, he said, he was used to sleeping in trees and fields, on barstools and street corners. He claimed he wouldn’t miss the bed at all.

You wouldn’t hear of it. Vehemently denying any offers, you stubbornly slept- atop as many blankets and pillows as you’d allow him to give you- on the floor by his bed like the dog you were. He wasn’t the only one used to sleeping in uncomfortable places, and you weren’t about to lose your edge by getting too comfortable too soon.

You think of the way you woke up this morning, wrapped in soft, warm blankets on a wide, plush mattress, face nuzzled into his neck, arms around his waist.

You’ve both come a long way.

You hear the familiar sound of distant hilichurlian chanting, and make your move to leave, bidding your old bedroom a quiet farewell once again.

Slipping out of the cottage and rounding the side of the building in a few long strides, you narrowly manage to evade their notice. Peeking around the corner, you watch them return to their prior posts. The Anemo Samachurl diligently paces between the trees, its Geo companion keeping watch from the stairs.

You smile, and turn to make your silent departure.

-

Checking in on your old home had been a successful distraction from the thoughts you’re trying to avoid, but you couldn’t linger there forever. Still, feeling unprepared to return to the teapot and try to put on a brave face for Venti, you find yourself wandering. With no particular destination in mind, you let your feet take you where they may.

You try to think of nothing at all for a while, failing over and over again as your mind searches for something to latch onto. Apparently counting your steps wasn’t entertaining enough for it.

After a while of failing to meditate on your walk, you find yourself leaving grass and stepping onto a dirt path. Looking up and around, you realize you’ve made your way to the road leading to the Thousand Winds Temple.

Turning and looking south, you can see the massive tree at Windrise, off in the distance. Far, far, beyond that, bringing your eyes to the horizon, you can see the snowy peaks of Dragonspine beyond the tall cliff of Galesong Hill. You sigh.

And I bet you didn't know, under that live oak, my favorite dog is buried in the yard.

A few months after arriving in Mondstadt and settling in with Venti, you found yourself exploring the icy riverbank that borders Dragonspine. The stubborn bard, wrapped in the thickest cloak he owned, trudged along behind you.

You’d told him he didn’t have to join you that day, but the thought of you exploring unfamiliar territory without him apparently just didn’t sit right. So, in spite of his occasional grumbles over the increasing cold, he never left your side.

The area was predictably desolate, save for a few Cryo Hilichurl archers lounging on the icy banks like they were on summer vacation. You weren’t looking for a fight that day though, just to explore, so you avoided drawing their attention given the divine company you were in.

Later on, as you were focusing hard on what Pyro energy you could summon in an attempt to melt the ice encasing a chest, you found something far more valuable. Venti saw it first, having been eyeing the surroundings while you were focused on the task at hand. Calling your name, he summoned your attention with ease.

Turning to look at him, your gaze followed his pointed finger and landed on a dog, slowly making its way toward you.

The animal was fairly large, but certainly far from threatening given the state it was in. As it drew closer, Venti lowered himself to his knees in the cold wet grass, suddenly forgoing his prior reluctance to endure the elements. You smiled. It seemed like he’d learned a thing or two from you about dealing with fearful dogs.

You followed suit, crouching down beside him and getting on the dog's level. The shivering animal hesitated, coming to a stop about fifteen feet away. Materializing some fresh meat you’d caught on the journey there, you quietly held it out toward the dog.

It sniffed the air, but refused to move.

Tearing a chunk off, you gently tossed it in the dog’s direction, and it landed a few feet in front of it. Sniffing harder, the animal carefully approached the offering, sticking its head out as far as it could to reach the food and avoid coming closer.

The two of you spent the better part of an hour luring the dog toward you, slowly but surely winning it over with continued offerings of fresh meat.

Upon closer inspection, you were honestly shocked that it was still standing. Skin stretched tight across its ribcage, hip bones two sharp peaks, spine a long mountain range down its back… the thing was clearly starving. You weren’t sure if it was the stress of a difficult life, a sign of old age, or both, but what you assumed had once been black fur was almost white from graying, particularly in its face. It trembled incessantly, and as soon as it came close enough and didn’t seem apt to bolt, Venti untied his cape and wrapped it around the dog, who shockingly didn’t fight it.

Maybe Venti had been serious when he claimed he could talk to animals.

You fed it more bites of meat as the two of you quietly discussed the best way to get it home. Blessedly, once the dog realized that neither of you held malicious intentions, it switched gears surprisingly fast. More than just tolerating your presence, the dog actually began to cling to you, frantically whining when you both stood up, fearful that you’d be leaving it behind.

Abandoning your half-melted treasure, you knew it was time to leave. You were quite a ways from home and you weren’t about to try teleporting the dog in its current state. So instead, you carefully picked her up, frowning at how little she weighed. Venti took the remaining meat and distracted the nervous dog with more offerings of food as you began your long, slow journey home.

“Don’t- don’t feed her too fast. I know she’s hungry but I don’t want to make her sick.”

Venti nodded, tearing off smaller bites. “I remember.” He cryptically confirmed.

You adjusted the dog in your hold, pulling Venti’s cape up around her neck. “…Remember what?”

He suppressed a shiver, but you still noticed. “You ate yourself sick on fruit and raw meat the first night you spent here.”

Your head turned quickly, staring down at him. “You were watching? Even then?”

He nodded, expression solemn. “I followed you home, you know? It just took a few days for you to notice that I was there.”

You walked in thoughtful silence for a while after that, wondering if your scattered senses had failed you, or if he was actually better at hiding his aura than you thought.

-

The dog lived with the both of you in your little cottage for a few good months. She gradually put on weight, and some life returned to her alongside it. She still moved slowly, though, and you feared she was in pain.

By that point, you’d befriended a timid alchemist with mint-green hair, and sought her assistance. She’d kindly offered you a medicine of her own creation, advising that the dog seemed rather old, and likely suffered from joint pain. You offered her payment in Mora, which she politely refused. You eventually got her to accept a small assortment of bones you’d gathered in exchange, correctly surmising that the offer would be too tempting for her to refuse.

Sucrose’s medicine seemed to help, because the dog moved with noticeably more ease once you began giving it to her. She was far from spry, but she seemed comfortable, so you were content. She was also content, in the precious, innocent way that only a dog can be. Just happy to be alive, happy to be fed, happy to be safe. Happy to be near someone that loves them, and happy to be near someone they love.

“Adagio.” Venti had once said, gently raking his nails through her fur on a warm, sleepy afternoon.

“What’s that?’ It was far from the first time he’d said a word you didn’t know.

“In musical terms, it means played slowly… I think it would be a nice name for her.”

You considered it for a moment, and found it rather fitting, nodding in agreement with a smile. “I like that.”

Adagio spent her days laying in the shade near the cliff’s edge, watching the waves lap at the small shore below. Looking back, you can thank her for teaching Venti that you can survive a half a day on your own. She could hardly chase you all over Mondstadt, or weave her way after Venti through the busy city streets, so when one of you needed to go out for something, the other would stay home with her. One of the two of you were always there, and she never knew the pain of being alone again.

She spent her nights curled between the two of you. She couldn’t make the jump up onto the bed, and you were still stubbornly sleeping on the floor, so Venti made the executive decision to heave the mattress onto the floor as well. As silly of a sight as it may have been to an outsider, the three of you were comfortable, curled together amidst blankets and pillows on the too-small mattress, bed frame abandoned on the other side of the room.

Nothing lasts forever though, and it seemed to you that the best of things were always the quickest to go.

As months passed, her movements went from slow to slower, and she started struggling with more things. She could no longer steady herself to make it up and down the three stairs to your home, so one of you carried her every time. She slept more and moved less, and her love of food began to wane.

This wasn’t your first experience with something like this. Though it had been an awfully long time since you lived through it last, you still knew what was coming.

That didn’t make it hurt any less, though. Not at all.

Both of you sat awake with her through the final night, keeping her comfortable and telling her how much you loved her. You’d never hoped harder that Venti’s communicative abilities held true.

You kept it together until she released her final breath, and when you knew she was gone, you allowed yourself to fall apart.

Up until then, your walls had been an impenetrable fortress. No emotion escaped unless you allowed it. Venti had never seen you cry.

So when your pain escaped you this time, falling in heavy golden tears and landing in her gray fur, he could only stare. He knew this wasn’t his moment to intrude on, so he didn’t. He didn’t rush to wrap you in an embrace, nor did he try to offer any hollow words of comfort. This was pain. This was loss. He was intimately familiar with it, and he knew it had to be felt.

There isn’t a single detail of that night that you don’t recall, and the teal tears that fell next to your golden ones are no exception.

That was the first time you saw him cry, too.

-

The evening breeze cools the hot golden tracks running down your cheeks. You watch tears fall onto the dirt path beneath you, and then you close your eyes.

-

You both sat there with what remained of her until the morning sun slipped in through the window. You were surprised when Venti broke the silence, offering to bury Adagio beneath the Windrise tree.

You spoke through a voice thick and strained from your cries. “That’s… that’s a really special place.”

He nodded. “She was a really special dog.”

You wiped the fresh tears from your eyes before they could fall, turning to face him.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” He put his hand out, laying it next to Adagio on the mattress. “Unless you’d prefer elsewhere?”

You knew what to do this time. Reaching out and laying your hand in his, you shook your head slowly. “No. I think Windrise would be perfect.”

-

Opening your eyes, you raise your head to glance once more at the massive tree across the sprawling field. Bidding Adagio another quiet goodbye, you pull in a shaky breath, and turn, heading north.

Walking in silence for a while, you try to let your emotions settle. The tears you just shed seemed to help a little, but the knot in your stomach won’t leave you.

You follow the road a little while longer, but when you find yourself nearing the temple, you take a detour and head west, off the beaten path. You aren’t keen on running into whatever random explorers might be camping there this evening. Besides, the scent of cecilias is on the breeze, and you’d rather follow that instead.

Making your way up the uneven terrain that comprises the base of Starsnatch Cliff, your mind returns to its ruminations over what brought you here today in the first place.

You leave home, you move on, and you do the best you can.

The reason for your reluctance to leave Mondstadt became abundantly clear on the day you finally set out for the neighboring nation. As you left Dawn Winery behind and crossed the border, headed for Stone Gate, it sank in quickly.

Venti wasn’t beside you.

Up until that point, he’d been the literal wind at your back every step of the way. Every commission you completed, every request you fulfilled, every inch of land you explored, he was right behind you. Or beside you, or above you, or in front of you…

Regardless, he was there. Answering your questions, telling you stories, helping you make sense of the unfamiliar. Whether it be words you couldn’t yet read, customs you didn’t yet understand, or emotions you couldn’t yet identify, he was your guide through it all. The Stormterror crisis came and went, as did the… incident with Signora, and the two of you grew ever closer as a result of it all. You could fill a book with the stories of what you two went through in the mere year you spent in this nation. But, as you sat together beneath the Windrise tree one evening discussing it all, it slowly grew clear that it was coming time to move on. As if the notion alone wasn’t stressful enough already, there seemed to be an unspoken understanding that it was a journey you must undertake alone.

So, you did. You’d packed your things, said your temporary goodbyes, and set off on your own without so much as once giving in to the urge to ask him to come along. The goodbyes were, after all, only temporary. You hoped. If you made it through whatever awaited you in Liyue alive, you always planned on returning home.

And you did. Many times.

You, scared as you’d been, made it through the lively adventure that was your initial trip to Liyue, and you’d come out much stronger for it. You found a confidence that you’d forgotten you possessed, forced to show itself once there was no travel companion for you to rely on.

Quite early in your journey, you gathered that you weren’t completely alone anyhow. Sure, in your day-to-day there was no talkative bard trailing behind you, and the nights proved themselves awfully lonely indeed. But Venti’s parting words, “may the wind protect you”, proved themselves surprisingly literal as you took note of one particular Yaksha. After a few nights at Wangshu Inn, and a few bowls of almond tofu shared in relative silence, the man had made himself into your shadow shockingly fast. He never seemed to be around when your gaze searched for him in a crowd, but was always conveniently there the moment you ran into trouble.

Still, in spite of his protection, not to mention your growing, innate connection with the God of your favored element, you longed for home. You longed for your home. You longed for your God.

I got lost in this whole world, and forgot who I am.

So, once the dust, or, well, waves had settled and Rex Lapis had been “officially” laid to rest, you found yourself headed northeast.

In spite of how proud you’d been for making it on your own, all of that crumbled the evening you first crossed back into Mondstadt. You could've used any of the waypoints you’d resonated with, could’ve gone right back home to the cliff overlooking Falcon Coast. But something about that just didn’t feel right. Not for your first return.

Walking the path back toward Dawn Winery, you tried to keep your composure. You tried to not get irrationally emotional over the familiar sight of Anemo crystalflies fluttering over the grape vines. You ignored the warmth in your chest at the sight of soft yellow candlelight illuminating the cottage windows along your path.

Your weakening grip on your emotions completely failed though when you caught sight of a small, green-clad bard, legs dangling from the edge of a rooftop, plucking at his lyre.

You burst into tears on the spot, folding in on yourself and crumpling to the dirt beneath you.

He dropped the nonchalant act instantly, dematerializing from his perch on the rooftop and reappearing beside you in a small, warm burst of Anemo energy that you didn’t see through your tears, but definitely felt. He’d questioned you frantically, worried you were hurt, not understanding what was wrong. Eventually, largely thanks to his embrace, the sobs wracking your form eased enough to assure him that you were fine.

You’d just missed him, was all.

The array of conflicting emotions that flashed in his eyes at the admission would've intrigued you, had you not been so absorbed in your own at the time.

In spite of how badly you craved his company, you’d already proved to yourself that you could travel on your own. So, you continued to. After an extended stay in Mondstadt to recover from your first eventful excursion, you began traveling between the two nations more regularly. Having resonated with most of the waypoints and Statues of the Seven in Liyue as well, it was easy to hop over for the day and still come home to Venti at night.

I thought if I could touch this place or feel it, this brokenness inside me might start healing.

Such was your routine until Madam Ping had introduced you to her Teapots. Adeptal magic was quite the wonder, capable of impressive feats, and the new home offered to you was no exception. When you learned that not only could you live in it, but you could invite others in as well, you were over the moon. You were, of course, reluctant to bid a more permanent farewell to the little house overlooking the sea that you’d grown so familiar with. But when faced with something as convenient and extravagant as the teapot, you could hardly turn it down.

Venti had been more than interested in your offer when you brought the thing home and showed it to him. After bestowing a permanent invitation upon him, he took a liking to the space quite quickly, happy to help make yourselves a new home. Having already been informed of your penchant for Mondstadt, Tubby had crafted a world for you that resembled the land of freedom’s sprawling hills, cliffs, and beaches to an impressive degree. Your new home was far grander than your old one, but with a little time and personalization with what you both brought from the cottage, it really did start to feel like home.

It was… nice, having a safe place to return to every night, regardless of where you were or what you may be caught up in. It was even nicer that Venti seemed to quite enjoy spending time there as well. There’d scarcely been an evening where both of you hadn’t wound up in the teapot together, sharing stories of your respective days over dinner.

Things carried on like that for the remainder of your time in Liyue. You spent more and more time in the land of contracts, and less and less in Mondstadt as a result. Sometimes you’d have reason to return, and somehow you’d almost always run into Venti while you were there. Time spent with him in the teapot was no less real, but it always felt… special, when the two of you were together in Mondstadt again.

Out here, it's like I'm someone else, I thought that maybe I could find myself.

Still, just as it had been with Mondstadt, you couldn’t linger in Liyue forever. You’d built a reputation for yourself there to match your standing in Mondstadt, making a slew of new connections, exploring, finding answers and more questions alike. It was time to move on. Inazuma loomed far, far off on the southern horizon, and it was up to you to make the first step to reach it.

You didn’t want to.

You stood on the docks, looking out at Guyun Stone Forest, and at Beidou’s ship anchored nearby.

You found yourself feeling something you hadn’t felt in a long while. You felt the same as you had when standing atop the celestial nail, only this time it was somehow worse. It scared you. Yes, the prospect of setting off effectively alone to yet another unfamiliar nation, but more than that. It scared you because you thought you’d grown past this. You thought you could handle this. You thought… you thought you’d outgrown this immature sense of homesickness.

You were wrong.

If I could walk around, I swear I'll leave.

That’s how you found yourself here, ambling through the wilds of Mondstadt. You really, really don’t want to leave. But you know that you have to.

You think of the stories you’ve heard in Liyue, of the terrible war raging in the island nation to the south.

You release a shaky breath into the cooling air.

You pray that you’ll make it back alive.

Won't take nothin' but a memory, from the house that built me.

Following the cecilias as their trail grows thicker, you weave your way up to the peak of the massive cliff.

You’re only slightly surprised to see a small figure, dressed in a very familiar shade of green, sitting with their back to you at the very edge.

Tension you didn’t notice you were holding melts from your shoulders at the sight of him.

You do your best to push aside the emotional storm you’ve been caught up in, and you call out to him, playful. “Fancy seeing you here!”

He twists at the waist to face you, following your movement as you approach. “I could say the same, love. What brings you here?”

You laugh softly as you come to a halt beside him. “Well, I could ask the same of you.” You carefully lower yourself to the ground, letting your legs dangle off the cliff beside his. “Figured you’d either still be at the tavern, or were already home wondering where I was.”

He smiles at you, soft, before looking away. “I was at the tavern most of the day, like I planned this morning. But… something didn’t feel right. I wasn’t really… giving it my all, and I think the patrons could tell.”

You frown. “What didn’t feel right? Are you okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine, Windblume. I’m just fine.”

You aren’t convinced. “Then, uh… do you feel like sharing what isn’t fine?”

His gaze drops to the dark sea below. “I think you know what it is, actually.”

Cryptic as ever, you take a moment to ponder what he might mean. He takes the silence as an opportunity to elaborate. “I never really wonder where you are, you know?”

You glance at him, bemused for a moment before growing serious. “Oh, what, were you- like- watching me today? How… Wait, how long have you been up here, actually?”

He doesn’t look at you, but he shakes his head. “I don’t have to be watching you to know where you are, dear.” The wind tousles your hair. “I’m already everywhere. All the time. If the wind can reach you, I’m there.”

“...Oh. Right.” You let your own gaze fall to the sea. “Maybe I let myself forget sometimes, just how… literal that is.”

You remember the warm sea breeze from this afternoon, the brief gust that cooled your tear-stained cheeks early this evening, and the wind that brought the scent of cecilias down toward you.

“...So you could tell that I was here today.”

“Yeah.” He confirms quietly. “There was something… discordant, blowing in from Falcon Coast this afternoon. It didn’t take long for me to identify you.”

Guilt blooms within you. “Is that when you left the tavern?”

“No, I didn’t head out immediately. I mean- I can hardly turn off my omniscience, but I do still try to give you privacy in spite of it. I figured if you needed me, or… wanted me, you would call out.”

The way he says “wanted” makes your frown deepen.

“But, when the tone of the air only continued to sour as time passed, I did eventually give in to my concern.”

You pluck at the grass beneath you to busy your hands. “I’m sorry for distracting you. I really didn’t mean to, I just…”

He turns to you, cutting you off. “Please don’t say that. I couldn’t care less about losing out on a few mora at the tavern. I care about the fact that you’re out here, crying to yourself, all alone.”

A familiar tension makes itself at home again in your throat. “I…”

You trail off, lost for words. Venti makes up for it though, seeming to suddenly have quite a bit to get off of his own chest. “I can sense the difference between someone who wants to cry on their own, and someone who’s crying because they’re on their own.” His pained voice nearly cracks. “I never thought I’d feel the latter coming from you. But I’ve felt it more than once now, and… I don’t know what to do.”

At his confession, honesty slips out of you, and you can’t hold back the tears that come with it. “I miss you.” You turn to face him, and then look past, gesturing weakly out to the sprawling land of freedom behind you. “I miss this! I miss home! I miss you!” Voice breaking, you choke on your tears and lean into him, crumpling pathetically down onto his lap and curling yourself around him like the needy animal that you are.

His hands settle on you, one on your back and another reaching for your legs, pulling you against him so you don’t slip off the edge. His winds would cradle you if you fell, but he’d rather prevent the problem before it can happen. His own voice is tight with emotion when he speaks. “You have me, love. You- you hold me every night, I bid you goodbye every morning, you can visit Mondstadt whenever you please!”

You shake your head vehemently in his lap, crying harder.

“I’m sorry, love- I- I really don’t understand. In what way do you not have me?”

You practically shout your answer into the fabric of your sleeves, turning your head just enough to pointlessly attempt to wipe your face. “When I leave! I have to leave! I have to leave, and leave you behind, and you aren’t with me, and I’m alone again every time I go!”

One of his hands comes up to carefully comb the damp hair from your face, the black tips now wet with shimmering gold. “When you leave Mondstadt? Like… like when you go to Liyue?”

You nod, almost hyperventilating as your fears spill from you. “I should've never gone there alone! I wanted to ask you, I wanted you to come with me so badly but something told me that I shouldn't ask, that I should go alone, and so I went and I was so fucking scared but- but- but I was fine- I was fine- I made it back alive and so what if I cried every night because I missed you? I had a fucking nation to save it’s not like I could come home crying to you about it! And- and I mean Xiao was there but I- I- I can fight I can hold my own I don’t need protection I need a friend! I need company! I need you! I- I knew I’d be fine but fuck I felt so alone and I missed you, I missed you, I missed Venti, I missed Barbatos, I missed you SO MUCH-” You suddenly heave for air in the middle of your spiel, breathing in too hard and choking on your own spit. Feeling about as vulnerable and pathetic as you’ve ever been, you give in to the misery, grasping for purchase at any part of him you can reach. Your claws dig into the thin fabric of his tights in a way you know you’ll be frantically apologizing for later, but in this moment you can’t bring yourself to stop. You can't bring yourself to do anything but cry, and cry, and cry.

He doesn’t say anything for a few minutes, the only sound he makes instead being a quiet, gentle hush, over and over, focused on calming you down. The cool hand that finds its way beneath your hair and settles on the back of your hot neck feels like heaven, and for a moment you cry harder at the relief. His other hand pets across the broad expanse of your back in slow, rhythmic, sweeping motions.

When your cries have quieted enough for you to focus on his words, he says something that surprises you.

“I’d have gone, if you’d have asked me.”

You hiccup a question. “Wh-what?”

“To Liyue. I would have been more than happy to go with you, if you’d have only asked.” His lithe fingers gently massage at the tension in your neck.

You twist in his hold just enough to look up at him. “Seriously?”

He gives you a weak smile, but it’s more sad than anything. “Of course. The only reason I didn’t invite myself along was because I wanted you to have the freedom to choose. I figured… if I offered to go with you, you might feel obligated to bring me with you.”

You laugh, but there's no humor in it. “This whole time… this whole time I really thought that you didn’t want to go.”

He’s visibly pained by the thought. “Why in the world wouldn’t I?”

You shake your head. “I don’t know… I just figured you had your reasons. It is another nation after all, and I’m still… not too sure how Archons feel about crossing into one another’s territory.” You clear your throat and scrub at your eyes and cheeks with a fist. “Figured maybe you didn’t want to run into Morax or something…”

He laughs, and there’s a bit of life in it this time. “Even the prospect of running into that old block-head wouldn’t be enough to stop me from accompanying you.” He takes your hand in his, stopping your aggressive assault on your messy face. “And while certain Archons might be… less than enthralled to see me again, just because I’m with you doesn’t mean I have to be recognized.”

Your brow furrows. “Venti and Barbatos don’t look all that different…”

He smiles down at you good-naturedly. “True. But I could take another form if it came down to it. Something unrecognizable to even them. If there��s anything I know how to do, it’s how to hide in plain sight and not be found.”

In spite of the tears still staining your cheeks, you give a small smile to your absentee God. “You’d really go to such lengths? For me?”

He gives you a confident nod. “For you and you only, love.”

His hand continues its gentle ministrations across your back, and your muscles gradually relax. You run a hand along the fabric of his tights, waiting for your breaths to come steady. As your senses slowly return to you, your fingertips brush across a few small tears in the material, and you cringe. Venti notices as much, and reassures you. “Hey- It’s alright. Don’t worry about that.”

His words are too late to stop you from raising your head enough to observe the damage, your hand gently cupping his thigh. “I didn’t scratch you… did I?”

“Nope! Just caught the fabric is all.” You aren’t inclined to believe him, given that with his abilities he could’ve healed any minor wounds before you even knew they were there.

You huff, dropping your head to his lap once more. “I’m still very sorry. I’ll buy you-”

“That won’t be necessary-” He tries to cut you off, but your insistence overpowers his own.

“I am buying you a new pair.”

He sighs in reluctant acceptance, knowing better than to challenge you. “Alright, alright. If you insist.”

You lay there for a moment, idly kneading at his thigh and letting the soft sounds of the evening wildlife fill the silence. Still, you struggle to wrap your head around the recent revelation. “You’d really be willing to leave this place?”

He laughs beneath his breath at your disbelief. “I mean, not permanently. If you’ve hatched some plan to move to Snezhnaya that I don’t know about, then I might have to disappoint you…”

You relax further at the familiar, playful edge that returns to his voice. “Nah, nah, nothing like that… just- on my journey away and back. Not- not even every time! Just… sometimes. It… really would’ve been nice to have you by my side the first time, actually, but I know it’s too late for that now. I just… wouldn't have felt so lost.”

His smile fades a bit at the confirmation of a long-held suspicion. You had been missing him as badly as he’d missed you.

You catch the shift in his demeanor, no matter how slight. “...I’m making you sad…”

One of his hands finds yours. “Only at the realization of how oblivious I’ve been.” He laughs, humorless. “All those nights I couldn’t sense you in the wind, all the time I spent wondering if you were okay… you weren’t. You were holed up somewhere, crying, alone, afraid…”

His eyes pinch closed and you squeeze his hand. “It’s not on you. I should’ve been more honest with you before I left.”

He huffs, and then he’s quiet for a moment, thinking. It’s times like these in which you wish you could read him as well as he can read you. “...I could say the same.”

You stare up at him for a moment in confusion. “What do you mean?”

He holds your gaze for a moment and opens his mouth to speak, but seems to think better of whatever he had to say. His focus shifts from you and out to the sea. “...Like I said, I would’ve been happy to follow you. I never should’ve let you grow to believe otherwise.”

You pout just slightly at the less-than-complete sounding answer, but another question overrides your focus. “Is Liyue… the limit?”

The hesitation in your voice gives him pause. “What do you mean?”

“Is Liyue, like, as far as you’re willing to go.”

His eyes brighten in understanding, and you’d collapse from relief at the shake of his head if you weren’t already on the ground.

“Oh! No, not at all. I really meant it when I said I’d risk running into the other Archons for you.”

You release his hand and reach up to pinch the fat of your cheeks between your claws. He pouts, reaching down to stop you. “What’s that for?”

“I’m afraid I’m dreaming or something…”

He laughs properly, a beautiful sound. You crane your neck up to glance southward. The wall of storms barricading Inazuma are still there, an awful sight. You drop your head back to his lap with a heavy sigh.

He pats you gently on the cheek. “You’re wide awake, I assure you.”

Reaching up, you gently bat at the braids that hang at the sides of his face, chewing on your lower lip. He reads you like a book. “I think we’ve learned something this evening, dear.”

“What’s that?”

He catches your hand mid-air, splaying his fingers out and lacing them between yours. “It’s that when we have something to ask of one another, we should do it.”

The corner of your mouth turns up, and you meet his gaze. “Is that your fancy way of telling me to spit it out?”

He giggles. “Maybe.”

You sigh, letting your gaze drift away from him and up to the stars far, far above. “Would you be so kind… as to accompany this scared old dog all the way to Inazuma?”

You close your eyes, waiting for a “no.”

It never comes. Instead, he squeezes your hand in his, and you’re shocked to hear relief in his tone when he answers you. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Your eyes flicker open, unsure. “Is… is that a yes?”

He nods vehemently. “It is.”

The tears that spring to your eyes catch you by surprise. He wipes them away with his thumb as they fall. Sniffling, you question him again. “There’s- There’s a whole war going on over there right now, you know?”

The blue in his braids brightens, and in the dark of the early night, you notice the same turquoise light begin to shine from his chest, beneath the thin fabric of his white shirt. “I’m no stranger to war.”

You reach up, tracing a gentle finger across where you know one of his Archon marks to be. “...That you aren’t.”

His thumb swipes across the black star at the base of your neck, half hidden by your collar. “...Guess that makes two of us, huh.”

It’s a rhetorical question, but you hum in confirmation nonetheless. Rising from your spot on his lap, you wiggle your way around until you’re seated beside him properly again. Reaching an arm out, you wrap it around his shoulders, and he leans into you. Both of you stare out across the sea, watching the lightning flash in the storm to the south.

“I don’t even know what I’m gonna be able to do to help.” You sigh. “But I know I have to go.”

One of his hands finds yours again. “Whatever may come, I consider it an honor to fight alongside you.”

You bark a laugh, shaking your head at the notion. “Hey now, I just asked you to come with me, I never said anything about putting you in the line of fire.”

He smiles. “I know, I know, but still… if it comes down to it-”

“If it comes down to that, I’m hauling you over my shoulder and taking us both home.” You cut him off in a no-nonsense tone.

Your seriousness doesn’t cause his mirth to falter. “I fear I’m gonna be the one dragging you home if we run into Signora while we’re there.”

A low growl reverberates from your chest at the mere mention of her. “We’ve still got a score to settle.”

He pats you on the thigh placatingly, humor in his words. “Darling, how many times must I reassure you? I let her take it from me.”

“Still, she didn’t have to be so fucking rough about it. I’m not after the gnosis. She made this personal.” You snarl.

His soft laughter subsides as he shakes his head, but he doesn’t argue.

The two of you watch the lightning show for a short while, before you grow tired of the dreadful sight and opt to focus on something better. Unwrapping your arm from the God at your side, you stifle a laugh as he voices his sudden startled displeasure. You apologize as you reposition yourselves, moving away from the edge a bit and turning the both of you around. “Sorry about that, didn’t realize you’d almost fallen asleep on me.”

He pouts. “Can you blame me? You’re warm, and it’s been a stressful day… and speaking of-”

You nod. “I know. We should be getting home soon. But- look.” You point at the beautiful sight of Mondstadt City, lit up for the night, a beacon of hope and freedom standing strong in the distance. “Isn’t that a sight worth sticking around a little longer for?”

He sighs in content as you pull him against you once more. You can’t feel the swell of pride in his chest at the sight, but you can hear it in his voice. “It sure is.”

Lifting his hat from his head and placing it in his lap, you comb your fingers through his hair, finding your own satisfaction in the way he melts against you. The two of you admire the city for a long few minutes, and a thought occurs. “As much as I want you beside me… I feel bad taking you from your people.”

He shakes his head and the motion tickles as his hair brushes against your chin. “They don’t need me, love. At least, not in the day-to-day sense.” He huffs. “Honestly, I think the most prominent place that my presence will be missed is the tavern, and that’s of little consequence in the grand scheme.”

You know he’s right, but the guilt still nags at you. “I guess…”

He leans away just enough to turn and look you in the eye. “You are one of my people too, you know?”

You hold his gaze, considering it. Have you really been here long enough, or made a big enough impact on the region to be bestowed with such an honorary title? “...I suppose I do.”

He reaches up and cups your cheek, eyes pleading. “Then let me be there for you.”

You breathe a sigh of acceptance. “...Okay.” You turn your head and plant a quick kiss against his palm before he can pull away.

He lets his hand drop, but doesn’t turn away. “I’m really sorry that you’ve been carrying all of this pain with you for so long. I should have questioned you on it sooner.”

You pick his hand up from his lap, taking it in yours. “It’s not your fault. At least, certainly not anymore than it is mine. I should've just asked you to come, the worst thing you could’ve said was no.”

“I still hate that you even thought I might’ve said no. I… should have made my willingness clearer.”

“Nah, I mean, after a year of following me around Mondstadt I think you were quite clear. I’m just… dense.” You summon a few tiny Geo shards in your palm before allowing them to crumble into a shimmering pile of dust. “Comes with the territory, I suppose.”

Venti scoffs. “Well if you’re dense, then I’m diffuse.” A tiny gust of Anemo swoops in and lifts the dust from your outstretched palm, scattering it to the wind.

You watch your two energies mix and dissolve into the night air. “I guess they do say that opposites attract.”

He hums. “That they do, love.”

You expect him to turn back toward the city, and he almost does, but then he hesitates, and calls you by name. “I want you to remember something.”

Your interest piques, brows raising above tired, lidded eyes. “And what’s that?”

His tone is serious. “You are not alone. Ever. Not if you don’t want to be. I don’t want you hesitating to call on me ever again. If you need me, if you want me, I’m there. No exceptions.” Maybe it’s the day’s exhaustion catching up with you, but the light in his eyes feels like a beacon, guiding you home. “You don’t ever have to be alone again. Remember this, please.”

Something warm blooms in your chest, and it’s in this moment that you realize the knot in your stomach has loosened. It isn’t gone, but it’s hardly noticeable anymore, and you finally breathe easy. You hold his gaze for a moment before nodding, serious. “I will.”

He brings his hand up, holding his pinky out toward you. “Promise?”

You smile, reaching out and wrapping yours around his. “Promise.”

He exhales, satisfied. “You wanna stay out here a bit longer?”

You open your arms in invitation. “I’d love to.”

Shuffling around once more, you help situate him between your legs, pulling him back against your chest.

“Alright, but don’t hold it against me if I fall asleep out here. You make for quite the comfortable bed, you know.”

You smile, nuzzling into his hair and breathing him in. The heavy scent of fermentation he once carried is now nothing but a faint whisper. “I won’t mind.” Lifting your gaze from the distant city lights, you quietly admire the stars above. “Not at all.”

A/N: Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed! You can find my commentary on this fic in the notes right here on Ao3. For more info on my OC Saoirse (aka this fic's "Reader"), along with links to various relevant playlists and moodboards, you can find it all here, in the notes of my fic series "This Is Unconditional." This is fic 4 of 16 that I'm doing based on combining prompts from this list! [Day 6 (Singing) & Day 21 (Memory)] Header Image Source: Me, for once! It's an in-game screenshot that I took myself.

[bluewinnerangel]

Here i found a good analysis of Angels Fly and how its a response to Harry's Falling.

Harry: "There's no one to blame but the drink in my wandering hands"

Louis: "There were problems in this empty bottle at the bottom but we drained all that"

--

Harry: "What am I now? What am I now?" - crying out

Louis: "You'll be okay, we can talk tomorrow" - it'll be ok

--

Harry: "And it kills me 'cause I know we've run out of things we can say"

Louis: "You'll be ok, we can talk tomorrow, I'm on my way with some time to borrow"

--

Harry: "And I get the feeling that you'll never need me again"

Louis: "I'll knock on your door, it'll save me from callin'" - ill always need you

--

Falling - Harry panicing that he is loosing control. Song is laced with a feeling of panic.

Angels Fly - You will be okay. We will be okay. I am here if you need me.

--

Harry : Im falling

Louis : No babe, youre an angel and youre flying, not falling!

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Credit

Okay I thought I'd try to find parallels myself... I think they're both generic enough that this can work coincidentally but yeah let's entertain it, I guess as Angels Fly as a response to Falling

I'd like to apologize for this use of colors laksjdlksj anyway. Things that stand out to me

Both songs have this duality of not wanting to talk about it and very much wanting to talk about it. Basically we can't talk about it right now but this isn't over there is more to say, just right now I feel like there isn't. Falling is someone stuck in a downwards spiral and Angels Fly could be read as someone trying to be there for someone who is.

The repeating of "I'm falling I'm falling I'm falling" vs "angels fly, high, you'll see angels fly, high" uuf

I highlighted the "and I get the feeling that you'll never need me again" vs "put the pain behind you now you don't need it anymore" because I thought it was a good contrast of someone lost in their thoughts vs someone with some more clarity of what is needed

I also think this one verse in Face The Music fits in this with "Close your eyes and count to ten / If you’re standing on the edge of falling / Open up and looking down / Everything that matters is forgotten" like lines 1/3/4 parallel Angels Fly and then the 2nd drops a falling. It fits with Saved By A Stranger too.

I. fucking. love. "but we drained all that" in Angels Fly. It might be my favorite thing of the whole song. So he's like "there were problems in this empty bottle, at the bottom, but we drained all that", so here he's using "problems in this empty bottle" which makes you think there was substance abuse, whether it was alcohol or pills, then "at the bottom" works in multiple ways already, like you're down-and-out as falling describes but also literally the bottle's empty and you're seeing the bottom, but then "but we drained all that", gives you the visual of throwing the contents of the bottle away, flushing it down the toilet, draining it down the sink, but in the context of the rest of the verse it's "but we've already gone over that and we're past it and about specifically that there's nothing to say anymore", and drained when someone is just completely depleted, exhausted, not much left, but now for my lil larriebrain specifically in relation to falling I'm seeing Harry's affinity to water, I'm seeing nautical watery splashsplashness I'm seeing the Falling music video where the entire concept is him drowning in a room that is being filled with water, that then will need to be drained lol. There's this reoccurring imagery in both their discographies where they're talking about a glass or a swimming pool being in various stages of filled and it's just giving this extra layer for me of draining being both positive and negative here. The glass is empty, they're at the bottom, and it's drained. There's no water. But then it's spun to positive that they drained the problems? yeah something like that.

But as always keep in mind this is just one interpretation of the song, we're just entertaining the thought of one being a response to the other. Or maybe that's not described right, rather that they both have written a song sparked from the same situation.

[viennacherries]

Lyrical analysis you say? 👀👀

I happen to be a bit of a musician myself (I was in my middle school choir and am lying to myself)

Would love to hear your thoughts on anything Hozier has written, but particularly Talk bc I also have thoughts on that one

okay this is nothing to do with bg3 so anyone who isn't interested feel free to skip over this. that being said i do think this song fits very well with gale when he was trying to get mystra to forgive him while he's in the tower.

if u are interested it's below the cut :)

this song is a fukin masterpiece first of all, i LOVE hozier. his lyricism is fucking incredible and never fails to sweep me completely off my feet.

this song is lyrically one of his more straight forward songs, if you know the context behind what he's referencing.

essentially, the story of orpheus and eurydice is a greek myth. orpheus finds his beloved wife eurydice dead, and sings a song so sad and beautiful that the gods take pity on him. he visits hades and hades agrees to let eurydice live again, so long as orpheus doesn't look behind him as he leaves. orpheus is nearly at the exit, only a few paces away, but he loses his faith and turns to check she's still with him. she's a few steps behind him, right where hades said she would be, but as soon as their eyes meet she's dragged back into the underworld.

now, when hozier is referencing this story he's specifically comparing himself to all of the best qualities of the characters in the myth. orpheus' devotion to his wife, the hopeful feeling he had that he could save her, the overwhelming need he felt to see her that overpowered his ability to follow hades' instruction, and eurydice in her final moments forgiving orpheus anyway because she loves him so much. this verse is hozier promising the person he's singing to endless devotion.

however, his next verse says that he's imagining all of the (presumably) indecent things they could do together. he admits that he's sweet talking them so that they dont see through to how badly he desires them.

the second verse goes back to him talking about how devoted and loving he can be. he calls true love a "lost myth" but insists that he will be the exception. he's different to others, he truly loves them. through the next few lines he's essentially selling himself as the solution to all of their issues surrounding love, he'll be the release that he believes they won't truly find in anyone except for god at the end of the world. he's bigging himself up again, he's essentially trying to sell himself to this woman.

you can view this song in a couple of ways, in my opinion. this song can be a demonstration of true devotion and love, hozier offering himself up to worship this person and telling them all of the ways he will cherish them. but i think it can also be seen as manipulative. he's sweet talking them even though all he's really thinking about is bedding them; think like a guy at a bar who knows all the stuff to say but is gone by the time you wake up in the morning. i think it can also be a mix of both, he truly loves them but feels unworthy. he thinks if they knew all the ways he thought of them they wouldn't be interested, so he peacocks and promises and parades around in the hopes of impressing them.

the songs in d minor key. by placing it in this key he's purposely evoking certain emotions/creating a specific atmosphere. d minor lends itself especially well to creating a melancholy or anxious atmosphere. a lot of songs about grief and sadness are in d minor. christian schubert, in an essay he wrote in 1784, uses the term "melancholy womanliness" to describe the key. i think that perfectly describes the atmosphere hozier creates in this song. a lot of people say that hozier is "for the lesbians" (based as hell btw) because a lot of the songs he writes are about true love and devotion to women. he's reverential in the way he talks about passion and romance, and it fits really well into the female gaze. you could view this song as him acknowledging this ("imagine being loved by me" could be him talking to the listener).

the song is 77bpm, which classifies it as 'andante' (moderately slow). it gives it a slow relaxed feeling, which really sells the whole vibe of him trying to woo someone. combined with the prominent baseline and the choral backing vocals, the song feels like worship. it feels like laying your soul bare.

it's no doubt his sexiest song. the song reeks of sex and sensuality. down to every detail this song is about seducing someone. it's romantic, sensual, and overall an absolutely beautiful piece that perfectly demonstrates hozier's prowess with lyricism. one of his main strengths is his ability to paint a vivid picture with his words.

this is quite a simple and surface level analysis of the song as i've whacked it together but in conclusion: beautiful sexy song and i am in fact imagining being loved by him.

[mintea273]

so I was thinking about the surprise songs for Tokyo and I came to Conclusions about how connected they are. I think they're teasing themes in TTPD and that's why Taylor didn't play them last year hehe

this is a slightly long post so please bear with me

and to clarify, this isn't me speculating about how she feels/felt in her personal life, this is me speculating about the kind of story TTPD will tell through Taylor's singing/writing (analysis below the break)

N1: Dear Reader and Holy Ground

"to a house, not a home, all alone cause nobody's there"

“no one sees when you lose when you’re playing solitaire”

“I guess we fell apart in the usual way, and our story’s got dust on every page.”

Isolation and longing/reminiscing

Dear Reader is non specific, Holy Ground is about missing a specific person

With the “friends found friends who care” in Dear Reader, we can assume the theme is being left behind and alone

N2: Eyes Open and Electric touch

"And nobody comes to save you now / But you’ve got something they don’t”

“Everybody’s waiting for you to break down”

“Got a history of stories ending sadly”

“(the ENTIRE second verse lol)”

“Fill this ghost town up with life”

Isolation and longing/looking forward

Eyes Open is isolation in a crowded room where everyone wants you to falter (contrast to Dear Reader and Solitaire lyric)

Electric Touch is longing for someone in the future and hoping it goes well (contrast to Holy Ground and reminiscing)

Finding someone/wanting to find someone who doesn’t root for your downfall

N3: Superman and The Outside

“Come back, I’ll be with you someday”

“Don’t forget, don’t forget about me”

“Wishing the call was from you”

“I’ll never let you go”

“I’ve been a lot of lonely places”

“I would give it all up to be / A part of this, a part of you”

“You could’ve helped”

Both are about being left behind and longing! (like the themes of the two songs are more clearly converging?)

Superman still has hope, The Outside is slowly losing it (or perhaps already has - I would argue this)

We now know what led to the isolation of night one - being left behind, but also being left out.

(It’s like with every song she gives us more context about how exactly she was "left alone.")

N4: Come In With The Rain and You’re On Your Own, Kid

"I'm too and tired at night to call your name/for all these games.”

“I don’t wanna have to go that far”

“I’ve got you down, I know you by heart / And you don’t even know where I start”

“You’re on your own, kid / Yeah, you can face this”

“I’ll run away”

“I gave my blood sweat and tears for this”

Left behind but knowing she deserves better and learning to do it on her own

In Come In With The Rain, she’s tired of waiting for this person to come back and care about her (but still hopes)

In You’re On Your Own, Kid, she can do it even from The Outside

It’s a hopeful note to end on. She’s not waiting for anyone to make her happy, she realises she deserves better and can do it by herself

It transforms it from being left behind to being the one who leaves

So I think we may be getting You're Losing Me very soon - a song about realising she's not valued as highly as she should be, but also about the sadness of it all. Alongside this, she may play We Were Happy or Bye Bye Baby, but I don't think she'll do Fearless and Midnights together so soon. Other songs she could do are happiness and closure. This is if she continues singing mostly songs she hasn't done before (with the exception of Holy Ground and You're On Your Own, Kid, I believe.)

I also think it's interesting that the songs across nights are related and almost lead into each other:

Dear Reader (N1) -> Eyes Open (N2)

Holy Ground (N1) -> Electric Touch (N2)

Superman (N3) -> Come In With The Rain (N4)

The Outside (N3) -> You're On Your Own, Kid (N4)

All I know is that TTPD is going to be a banger that is going to destroy me emotionally if I'm right about these themes hehe

[bloomvalyria]

For the ask game:

How do you come up with fic titles? What's the one you're most proud of?

19. Share a snippet from a wip without giving any context for it.

How do you come up with fic titles? What's the one you're most proud of?

When it comes to fic titles, I do what I think most writers in this archive do, which is use a song title or lyric. I pick one from a song that’s heavily influenced whatever it is I’m writing. For instance, paranoid and petrified is from BLUE by Billie Eilish. Particularly the verse where it states: You were born reaching for your mother's hands/Victim of your father's plans to rule the world/Too afraid to step outside/Paranoid and petrified of what you've heard

The second I heard it, I knew the entire You Were Born section of BLUE was going to be Bloom’s POV of Baltor as we near the end of the fic. But particularly paranoid and petrified felt like it could describe both Bloom and Baltor at different times of the fic, so I picked that specific lyric to represent them both since we’re bouncing between timelines.

19. Share a snippet from a wip without giving any context for it.

“It was you, wasn’t it?”

It’s barely noticeable, but she catches him tense.

“I felt you,” she says. “Heard you. You were screaming at me, saying he wasn't real. That he wasn’t—”

“Liliss’s mirages are convincing,” he interrupts, smoothly. “She pulls on your deepest fears and twists them into visions to corrupt your mind and your magic. I’m sure the hallucination of me was believable.”

“What happened to wanting an honest conversation?”

His fingers twitch around the glass, but he doesn’t take the bait.

She scoffs. Her fist flexes with the desire to punch the wizard in the face, and suddenly she’s rising to her feet, closing the distance between them. But her anger finds her tongue instead of the magic begging to be released from her fingertips.

“You’re right,” she snarls. “She does use your deepest fears against you. Which means there’s no way in hell you would’ve appeared. I hated you, Baltor, but I’ve never feared you.”

She storms out the door, slamming it shut behind her before Baltor’s wide eyes can reach her. Because she knows he noticed.

She hated him.

She does not hate him.

[curtklingermanposts]

It's Illegal

Stop Bringing Things Up

As Christians, we know we are to forgive others; otherwise, we will not be forgiven (see Matthew 6:15). One aspect of forgiveness, which we should to take to heart, is once we tell others we forgive them; it would be illegal to brings things up again. More specifically, rub whatever transpired in their face, and use it against them. Once things have been dealt with, it’s time to let them go permanently.

Psalms 103:12 As far as the east is from the west, so far hath He removed our transgressions from us.

Jesus encouraged us to be merciful as our Father in Heaven is merciful (Matthew 5:38-48), therefore, it would be important to treat others as He does us. God never brings things up again, once He’s forgiven us. East never meets west, which means it’s no longer a consideration. It’s part of the New Covenant: “for I will forgive their iniquity, and I will remember their sin no more” (Jeremiah 31:34 [see verses 31-34 for fuller context]).

For whoever needs this: Stop asking Him for forgiveness for something He has already forgiven! It’s done!

The Importance of Letting Go

Psalms 103:8-10 The LORD is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in lovingkindness. He will not always strive with us, Nor will He keep His anger forever. He has not dealt with us according to our sins, Nor rewarded us according to our iniquities (NASB).

Because He compassionate and gracious, He doesn’t treat us in the way we deserve. Of course, when a person is experiencing pain, or anger as the result of someone else’s offence, it can be difficult to think in those terms. Difficult; but not impossible. Naturally, the more we become like Him, the easier it gets. The more we submit to Holy Spirit, the easier it is to detach our emotions, and not take up the offence to begin with. That’s not to say we become impervious to getting hurt, but it can be greatly mitigated.

Part of it is realizing the frailty of humanity. People do things for different reasons, which makes it imperative to be empathetic, and to try to understand from where someone is coming. People think, act, react and respond differently from each other, because they are different. A simple example is everyone is raised differently than another. Even in communities with shared values have households that are unique to their neighbors. Children are disciplined differently. Some values are held in higher esteem in some homes than others. World views differ from one person to the next, at least to some degree. All of this feeds in the way we interact with one another.

Even motives can be misinterpreted based on one’s experiences and upbringing. A person could have totally benign intent behind an offending action, yet be seen by another as having malicious intent. In extreme instances, some have been taught everyone is guilty. There are individuals who might be considered socially awkward, and lack the social graces to recognize what is acceptable and what is not in some settings.

Psalms 103:13-14 Just as a father has compassion on his children, so the LORD has compassion on those who fear Him. For He Himself knows our frame; He is mindful that we are but dust (NASB).

God makes room for our weaknesses; in fact, He has made provision for them -grace. Part of being compassionate is letting people off the hook. One might ask, “What about accountability?” We’ll briefly address that in a moment. Take it to personal level. Have you ever hurt someone, and experienced guilt and shame as a result? Did you find those things leave you once you found forgiveness? How easy it to move forward when your past is constantly thrown in your face? Releasing others helps them move forward, and become their better versions. Constantly reminding them of their past offence hinders their progress.

If a person doesn’t want someone to move forward, it begs the question as to whether he forgave the offender to begin with. Forgiveness does not necessarily mean the pain immediately goes away; however, without it, there is no healing. Secondly, forgiveness does not necessarily make someone trustworthy. Nonetheless, it does make room for his earning that trust back. In fact, it may help turn things around to the point where the relations morphs into what God intended it to be in the first place.

Romans 8:28 And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to His purpose.

One thing that helps overcome hurt and anger is finding God’s intent for the relationship. Asking Him for wisdom and understanding goes a long way in restoration and healing. And that’s what it’s about: relationship.

Back to the accountability thing. Two things to consider: one is becoming self-aware. In many cases, there are more than one perpetrator in a given conflict. Hmmm. There are two sides to every story. Self-awareness helps us see our part in the story, especially when we include Holy Spirit. There may be a possibility we might be the ones who need to ask for forgiveness. This part of taking personal accountability. It’s not always the other person’s fault. Humility plays a big role in being accountable.

Secondly, holding someone accountable does not necessarily mean calling them out on the carpet, so to speak. Instead of pointing the finger, and causing them to look down, point up to where they are called. “You’re better than this, God has called you to something much better. I don’t see you as a low life, I see you as a person of God.” The idea is to see them as God sees them, and encourage him or her in that direction.

God calls those things that be not as if they were (see Romans 4:17). He knows the end result, and we want to be in agreement with Him. If one decides to throw someone’s past in his or her face, one is not in agreement with God.

Matthew 18:15 Moreover if thy brother shall trespass against thee, go and tell him his fault between thee and him alone: if he shall hear thee, thou hast gained thy brother.

By the way, part of the forgiveness process occasionally includes talking about it, but once the talking is over, it’s over!

www.perfectfaith.org

[sieclesetcieux]

On Saint-Just’s Personality: An Introduction

Saint-Just’s personality is deeply misunderstood.

Saint-Just was a very secretive person, and guarded his personality behind walls. It might come off as surprising, considering how he’s usually depicted, but he actually was very introverted and reserved at the Convention, at the Committee of Public Safety, and during his missions in Alsace and in the North.

He was also a very sensitive person. He didn’t take slights easily (neither did Robespierre). But unlike Robespierre, he was also extremely young and wanted to be taken seriously. He was building off from nothing. So he built his own “myth”: the man (re)born with the Revolution. He made his youth his advantage: he hadn’t been as corrupted as the others by the old ways. This is something that was used by other revolutionaries, for example Marc-Antoine Jullien, who was 19 years old in 1794. They would say their youth made them closer to “nature” – that is, the natural, uncorrupted state of humanity as defined by Enlightenment philosophy.

The Saint-Just people think they know via novels and movies doesn’t really exist. I can’t think of any fictional representation that accurately portrays him. How people think of Saint-Just is basically several different “fanon” interpretations, some built by his enemies, some built by people who did appreciate him but didn’t quite understand him – which didn’t help much in the end.

This is important to point out because in the end these are the sources we have to learn who Saint-Just was as a person:

What those who knew him wrote about him (sometimes writing many decades later, which naturally impacts memory)

The little insight we can gleam from the few personal notes he left here and there in notebooks (and an unsent letter) that were never meant to be read by anyone

I know this seems obvious, but people often forget that historical figures are not fictional characters. They were real, living, breathing, human beings. They were people, and people have flaws and contradictions. People don’t necessarily remain the same at 20 years old, at 25, at 30 and so forth. People change.

The Saint-Just who writes Organt before the Revolution isn’t the Saint-Just who writes L’Esprit de la Révolution et de la Constitution de France in 1790 and isn’t the Saint-Just who gets elected deputy to the Convention in 1792. The Saint-Just who writes an unsent letter to Villain d’Aubigny (usually dated of July 20 1792, though it’s a topic of debate) is a Saint-Just no one was supposed to see. Same with most of his personal notes they built the Fragments des Institutions républicaines with.

Most importantly of all, a person will appear different to different people in different contexts. It’s a matter of perspective.

If you only take Desmoulins’ and Hilary Mantel’s and Tanith Lee’s perspectives on Saint-Just, well, I’m sorry to say, that’s not Saint-Just. That’s a perspective of Saint-Just.

Moreover, Saint-Just has many faces, many images, many legends, some of which he created himself while he was alive.

Victor Hugo was influenced by the Romantic Historians of the French Revolution, Michelet and Lamartine specifically, and their descriptions of Saint-Just to create Enjolras.

This is how you can find this connection making it even through novels that don’t like Saint-Just very much:

“He has a mind of fire and a heart of ice.”

- Bertrand Barère on Louis-Antoine Saint-Just

“It is a thing unheard of that a man should be as cold as ice and as bold as fire.”           

- Bossuet on Enjolras, in Victor Hugo, Les Misérables

“...Camille felt an instant aversion, as to the touch of ice, which is what the young man most resembled. Chiseled from an ice floe.”

- Camille on Saint-Just, in Tanith Lee, The Gods Are Thirsty

Thus, even traces of this Saint-Just lives on in Tanith Lee's book.

Main testimonies

Most of them are here, in French, and some have been translated. If not, I will work on it. I will repost them on this tumblr as well, along with additional information about their author, their reliability, their personal biases, etc.

Sources by Saint-Just’s hand

While some revolutionaries have enough correspondence to fill entire volumes, Saint-Just comparatively left few letters behind. We do have one letter that gives incredible insight into his state of mind, but it’s important to remember this letter was never meant to be read by anyone. It was an unsent letter, found in his things after Thermidor, and then made public against his wishes, much like most of his personal notes. It is, however, an amazing letter nevertheless, but it’s important to keep this context in mind: he did not want you to see him like this.

Secondly, we have a lot of decrees he wrote during his missions. Though most don’t say very much, they do give clues on his personality, on his attitude, on his perspective. In some cases, he would write a quick postscript to a letter written by Le Bas and addressed to Maximilien Robespierre. Interestingly, while Le Bas would use the “vous” with Robespierre, and admitted to his wife Élisabeth he felt closer to Augustin than to Maximilien, Saint-Just always uses the “tu”. This isn’t just a matter of revolutionary zeal – the whole “vous vs tu” question during the Revolution is another, much more complicated story.

Finally, we have personal notes scattered through the manuscript that became known as the Fragments des Institutions républicaines. It’s a strange document to study and refer to. There is, indeed, a project he was working on concerning the Republican Institutions. There are at least two drafts. But the document has other things has well: from notes he later used in speeches (you can pinpoint the similarities) to a very short fictional romance between a man and a woman that’s hard to interpret.

The document known as the Fragments des Institutions républicaines was made from random papers found on him when he was arrested, taken from his apartment, and in a notebook that Barère kept. Pages are missing. Some pages are obviously torn. This is the one place where he confided some of his deepest thoughts, which reveal a great deal of insight on the Revolution and on his role, as well as his mental state. It was written in the last months of his life, when he could feel what was coming.

Saint-Just wrote fiction: yes, there’s the much maligned, very misunderstood Organt. In the same period, which is shortly before the Revolution, he also wrote a play called Arlequin Diogène, a short story called La Raison à la Morne, and a very short epigram of 8 verses, Épigramme sur le comédien Dubois qui a joué dans Pierre le Cruel.

Most of these must be treated as any work of fiction regarding their author: separating fiction from the author is complicated. Is he referencing his own life? Is he even aware that he is? The context of their redaction, however, gives a lot of information and some insight on himself. One of these texts is extremely interesting in order to study his personality. It’s a sort of foreword to Organt titled Dialogue entre M... D... et l’auteur du poëme d’Organt. The format almost resembles that of an interview. This is important as this is Saint-Just the Author, as he wants to be seen. The style is trenchant, concise, straight-to-the-point. Here Saint-Just the Author of 1789 meets Saint-Just the Representative of Year II.

(This post in an introduction to a series of several posts in the process of being written. Please be patient. If you want to know more, feel free to send me questions though! I’ll try to answer as well as I can.)

[phoenixyfriend]

For your suddenly omegaverse au what exactly happened? Like I think obiwan and Anakin hop over from cannon verse to omegaverse but I am unclear on if there already existed obiwan and Anakin in omegaverse. Did they die early or do they just not exist or are they just not force sensitive and therefore not a part of the order? Is there still a sith conspiracy around Anakin?

Context: Original Post, Surrogacy, Worldbuilding, Obi-Mom, Soap Operas

So, from the original post:

There is no preexisting Anakin in the Omegaverse

Obi-Wan and Anakin just straight up don’t exist until they drop headfirst into the council room, already covered in blood.

To clarify: There has never been an Anakin Skywalker in this AU. There has never been an Obi-Wan Kenobi.

They don't know this for sure when they land in the AU, though. All they know is that the Jedi have no record of either of them. They figure, well, maybe they just got lost in the shuffle. Anakin wasn't found until he was nine, after all, and that was only by great coincidence.

The rest of this post has almost no mention of the omegaverse elements, FYI.

Warning: References to the Tusken massacre, explicit sedation and isolation of a mentally unstable individual threatening violence.

I don’t want to make light of institutionalization and involuntary holds, but Anakin is a character with a history of violence talking about repeating such an act, and that’s... a bit of an extreme case.

------

It's not that hard to convince the Temple to let them run a mission that lets them stop by Tatooine or Stewjon. Anakin cares a lot more, so Tatooine it is! Obi-Wan can tell there's something sketchy going on with Anakin's particular anxiety about this, but he rolls with it. Anakin was very specific about the timing for some reasons, and at this point, it's easier to just let it all play through.

They go well after the whole “congrats, you’re omegas... somehow,” thing has happened, a month or so before Geonosis would have happened. Obi-Wan has managed to help the council sabotage and delay the Separatist side of the war enough that they’ve gained... maybe a few weeks, maybe a few months. Just a little more time to keep a few more people alive. Nobody’s reached out to Kamino yet, and Jango isn’t staging a failed assassination to draw someone in, either. They’ve bought enough time for Anakin to spend his vacation time checking in on his mom seeing if he exists here, and Obi-Wan can go with him.

They get to Tatooine. They wander about, and Anakin doesn't actually explain where they're going, but takes them straight to where the Lars farm is. Obi-Wan lets Anakin tell him that it was the Force that led him to the right area. Anakin can sense that his mom is in there, and Obi-Wan chalks up the relief from his former padawan to 'she's here and we don't have to look for her.'

Anakin is... panicking. Just a bit. What if he shows up and it turns out this reality's Anakin is off doing something completely unrelated and she realizes he's the wrong person? Or what if she doesn't recognize him and he calls her Mom anyway? What if he fucks up and says something stupid or just starts crying on her? She'll think he's insane.

Obi-Wan... takes over.

Anakin stays hidden, listening. Obi-Wan knocks on the door, and asks if there's a 'Shmi Skywalker' in residence. Someone in town mentioned her. He explains that he has a young friend of about twenty years--they're not sure, exactly, because the friend doesn't know his own birthday, but it's about there--who happens to be a Skywalker, and they're trying to see if they can reconnect him with a parent. They don't have much to go off of other than the surname... the Shmi that lives here wouldn't happen to have ever had any children about that age?

No. She hasn't had any children of her own blood, actually, her only child is her stepson, but she'd be happy to meet this other Skywalker, if he's in the area. It's always nice to find family, and connecting with those that were separated from you is a big deal on Tatooine. She's not going to look a gift bantha in the mouth.

(Cliegg, dear, put down the rifle.)

Obi-Wan promises to let his friend know, bids them goodbye, and goes to find Anakin.

Anakin is having a bit of a breakdown.

As one does.

Anakin insists that they stick around for a bit, that they do what they can to protect the farm, because that's his mom, even if she's not really his mom, and Obi-Wan can tell there's a Lot Going On here. He assumes it's because Anakin's upset his mom doesn't know him, which is a little irrational on account of their two options being "Anakin doesn't exist (and so Shmi doesn't know him)" and "Anakin does exist (but Shmi doesn't know this Anakin, so she still doesn't know him)," but Anakin's not a very rational person.

Obi-Wan thinks tamping down the current crisis is probably a little more important than chastising Anakin's attachment issues, mostly because Anakin's hands are shaking, and he's looking a little wild-eyed, and like. Obi-Wan's not great at dealing with Anakin's many and varied emotions, but he's learned at some point when it's best to just... roll with it Until There's Less Risk of Stab or Sobbing Laughter.

He helps figure out some minor fuckery with the Force to hide the family in the homestead behind them from visitors, and to warn them to hide when someone comes by. It’s not a lot--mostly just meditating and asking the Force for a helping hand--but it’s nice.

Except, well, Anakin keeps fidgeting. He keeps panicking. He has them coming back almost daily for a week, always too scared to talk to his mom but insistent on protecting her, and always looking at the calendar. Obi-Wan wants to get back to the Temple, but whatever the actual hell is going on with Anakin is too big to just ignored.

A specific day comes and goes. Anakin is a mess of jitters and nerves, and finally Obi-Wan asks just the wrong (right?) question, and... they visit Shmi.

Anakin says they can talk later, he just wants to see his mom One Last Time.

(Obi-Wan is getting more and more worried, but he sits through the incredibly awkward meeting between Anakin and his alt-universe mom, watches as Anakin has no idea what to say and almost cries, and Shmi just kind of lets him do that and Beru--a sweet girl, Obi-Wan thinks, and very practical--tells him that this is all very normal for reunited slaves.)

(Obi-Wan wonders if maybe there’s some stuff Anakin never told him about how being a slave affected him.)

(Obi-Wan had thought they’d moved past most of this, but..)

The meeting ends. There’s hugging.

They get back to the ship, and Obi-Wan gets to watch Anakin fall apart. Obi-Wan gets to watch Anakin cry and scream into a pillow, hyperventilate and nearly punch a hole in the wall as he rages about how it was all for nothing! Obi-Wan gets to watch Anakin break into a million pieces in a way he’s never seen before.

Obi-Wan gets a confession.

Anakin tells him about the Tuskens.

It’s not an easy conversation. It’s not a short conversation, either. Anakin’s full of pain and misery and rising guilt, talks about how he’s been asking himself if it would be easier to keep his mother safe if he just killed them all now, except Obi-Wan would know, and be disappointed, and sure the Chancellor had said that they were little more than rabid animals, but Anakin doesn’t think he can kill the younglings again when his mom is still fine, and--

Obi-Wan sedates him.

He wants to say that he’s not proud of this, but... Anakin isn’t well. Anakin isn’t well in a way that is currently, specifically, revolving around doing extreme violence. Anakin is talking about going out and committing a slaughter as preventative maintenance.

Anakin stays sedated until they get back to the Temple, and he’s put in Force-suppressant cuffs--Obi-Wan quietly tells them to use something that can’t be sliced or taken apart by a droid specialist, and to avoid collars because Anakin was a slave for nearly a decade, and has a lot of traumatic associations--and in an isolated room.

It’s not a cell. Not technically.

He can’t just leave, though.

Obi-Wan hates himself for it, just a little. He doesn’t want to be doing this, not to his padawan, his brother, his son, but... a massacre. Even the younglings, he’d said.

(“He said he didn’t think he could do it again,” Obi-Wan mutters, half to himself and half to the mind healer that asks for his rundown of the situation. “I think he knows it was wrong, but...”)

(But he still did it, of course.)

It’s... better than Obi-Wan feared, but worse than he hoped.

Anakin is emotionally unstable. He has been, for a long time, but he’s usually functional. When the mind healer isn’t directly poking at his worst wounds, Anakin can more or less pass for... not okay, necessarily, but no worse than anyone else in the war had. He can say the right words. He can do a joint meditation. He can talk about philosophy the way a Knight that’s taken all the right classes does.

But part of Anakin still holds to the idea that the Tuskens deserved to die.

“This is my fault,” Obi-Wan whispers, more than once, resting his head in his hands, elbows on his knees. “I should have...”

“He was an adult,” says Mace, who isn’t Mace, not the one that Obi-Wan knows, but a newer friend, one that’s still figuring how to act around him. “Young, but still an adult. He made that choice.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t answer. Things aren’t that simple.

“The timing can’t have been a coincidence,” Obi-Wan mutters to himself, later on, but in the same spot, and the same position.

The Quinlan of this universe shrugs. He knows Obi-Wan better than most, right now. Psychometry’s helpful that way, and sharing Obi-Wan’s heat hadn’t hurt. “Seems likely. You said Sith were involved and setting traps, and a kid like yours, with that much power and trauma... ripe for the molding.”

Obi-Wan whines, and then catches the noise and stuffs it back down, locks it up tight with the other ‘instinct’ things he doesn’t like to think about having. The sound already has Quinlan shifting closer, and the smell is... intended to be comforting, he thinks. Reacting to his own distress, which he’s probably just pumping out right now, because he still doesn’t know how to--

“Can I help?” Quinlan asks, and Obi-Wan lets him.

Someone gets through to Anakin, maybe, or he just lets himself be ground down, or Obi-Wan’s entreaties that he can’t teach Ahsoka until he understands his crimes get through. He won’t be trusted around the clones until the Jedi can trust him to do the right thing, they inform him.

“I wouldn’t hurt the clones.”

“Nobody’s going to believe that until you understand your crimes and truly, actually feel remorse for them.”

There wasn’t a crime, technically. Not in this universe. That tribe is still alive, here, unknowing of the fate they escaped by dint of Anakin talking himself down from committing another slaughter.

(He tells the mind healer it’s because Obi-Wan was there.)

(He might have done it, he says, if he hadn’t thought Obi-Wan would be disappointed in him.)

(He says it like it’s a foregone conclusion, that Obi-Wan’s opinion is worth more than the horror of what he might become.)

“We’re going to keep an eye on anyone talking to Palpatine,” Shaak tells him one day, after Anakin’s been mental instability hold for two weeks. “We don’t know for sure how far the similarities extend from your universe to ours, but given everything else you’ve been right about...”

“That bad?” Obi-Wan asks.

Shaak grimaces, fangs glinting in the light. “I want to believe we’d have never allowed a child into such a position, but I can’t know what political leverage may have been used in your dimension... whatever reason was had to put Skywalker in those rooms, we know the consequences now--”

“What did he do to my padawan?” Obi-Wan demands, because Anakin won’t even tell him that. Anakin hasn’t mentioned Palpatine since they left Tatooine. Not to Obi-Wan.

“Nothing physical,” Shaak manages. “But the lies he told and the suggestions he planted... it’s good they haven’t met again yet in this life. We’ll all be keeping them far apart.”

He wants to take solace in that. “Why do you know before I do?”

“Skywalker values your opinion,” she says. “Only yours. He doesn’t want you more disappointed in him than you already are, so much of what is relayed to the council as a matter of security goes no further, but this was deemed necessary to share. He agreed to it, if you worried we’d broken his confidence.”

Anakin’s therapy would normally be entirely private.

Anakin’s therapy would normally not be in response to confessions of mass slaughter.

He hasn’t asked to be let out, which Obi-Wan hopes is a sign that he realizes at least subconsciously that he was in the wrong. The mind healer says he could have been released under watch by a Master probably a day or two after he arrived, but seems to be drawing some kind of comfort in knowing he couldn’t hurt someone even if he tried.

Obi-Wan is Anakin’s emergency contact. His next of kin. His healthcare proxy. Anakin has a right to privacy, minor as it is in such a situation, and everyone recognizes and treats him as an adult, but... Obi-Wan learns as much from the mind-healer as he would have back when Anakin was actually a child.

“He trusts you to make the right decisions,” the mind healer tells him, careful and unassuming. “He has... a lot of conflicting opinions about many things, including the order, the coming war, the nature of human reproductive dynamics, the Code... but he seems keen on the idea that you are his best reference on morality and ethics.”

Oh, good, more horrifying responsibility.

“He’s better,” the mind healer tells him. “I want to get him out of here before he starts going stir crazy while still relying on the perceived safety as a crutch for his mental health. And he--”

“He’ll be staying with me,” Obi-Wan says, heavy as anything. “I know.”

“Well... there’s a war coming,” the mind healer says. She offers a thin smile when he looks at her. “I don’t want him going out, but it makes him feel useful, gives him a direction for the aggression, and... the Council is adamant that we’ll need him as much as we need you.”

It’s true.

“Did he tell you why everyone called him the Hero With No Fear?”

“No.”

“Ask him.”

[risquewonu]

Since we’re sharing kinks, what do you think the members kinks are? And if you can’t or don’t want to do all the members I totally understand!! If not all, maybe the kinks of scoups, vernon, and/or jeonghan? ~ and yes big dick wonu for the win honestly

yes anon wonwoo big dick <3333 i wont go into all their kinks bc it’d just get really long but i’ll list what i think their #1 kinks are! to spice it up i’ll try not to do ones i think most of them have (dirty talk, marking, hair pulling, etc) to give it some flavor

svt member’s #1 kinks (imo):

seungcheol - spanking/ass play, i really think he’s into asses, i mean his ideal type is??? nicki minaj??? he likes them thicc!!!!!! so i think he’d just like anything to do with asses, spanking more so bc it brings the aspect of impact play but i can also see him wanting to incorporate anal or butt plugs into sex too. i think he also knows that he himself is thicc so when he’s subbing hes totally down to switch the roles as well

jeonghan - bondage, not even a question! i think he’s super playful during sex but is also a switch dom lean so using ropes/cuffs for him shows his dominance while still being able to tease and have fun. i also see hannie as a member who only fucks with love behind it so sexy times would be with someone he trusts enough to tie him up and vice versa

joshua - quickies, does this count as a kink? idk lol but i think joshua is the type that would love just a quick fuck in the middle of the day, something to take the stress off and also bc like go fucking right?? also the adrenaline of being in a rush and/or being in a public place would make him feel twice as powerful so he’d get really into it

jun - pegging, I REALLY THINK HE’D BE INTO IT OKAY YOU CANT CHANGE MY MIND like i see him as pretty open so he wouldnt have any reservations about taking it up the ass and as long as your slow while starting (cause that shit hurts if not done properly) i think he’d really love the feeling of being pounded into and being dommed in that way. he’d also be so enthusiastic about it, prob send u a text during work like “babe look at this strap it’s purple with glitter can we get it?”

soonyoung - roleplay, SOONYOUNG WOULD LOVE DRESSING UP FOR SEX its both sexy and playful!! esp if it’s a fantasy he had that’s been marinating for a while, like fucking a professor or having a masseuse rub him everywhere and making him cum without even touching his cock. roleplays are such a good kink for him because he gets to do some kinky shit but it’s also not too serious and hes a switch so who’s domming and subbing can flip easily

wonwoo - dumbification, imo the ULTIMATE form of dominance with dirty talk is dumbification. honestly as someone who has this as one of their top kinks (aha wassup wonu holla at ya girl) i think u really have to have trust someone to let them just.... freely call u stupid in any context lmao so wonwoo would get off knowing that you’re so vulnerable to him in that way; not even just sexually but also mentally with how secure u are with him and what u let him do/say to u.

jihoon - public sex, i have a theory that jihoon would fuck once in the studio just out of desperation but would find it so incredibly hot. just the adrenaline he gets while hes scared of getting caught sets him OFF and the way you clench around him when theres a tiny sound and youre scared youre about to get caught *chefs kiss* he loves it

minghao - fucking with music on, idk if this is a specific kink but i think hao is really into slow sensual sex with candles on where he takes his time. he’d try to move at the rhythm of the music and it’s all so slow that he can really feel everything. it’d also kinda turn him on if he’d be listening to music and just randomly one of the songs you fucked to came on shuffle and he’d just get flashbacks of that time. i think he’d be really into it

mingyu - size kink, ALRIGHT LISTEN do i think mingyu’s height feeds his ego? fucking absolutely. so it gets his dick hard whenever he feels even bigger than he already is bc he feels so much more in control. with that being said, i can also see him getting off on being dommed by someone who’s smaller than him bc theyre putting him in his place despite the fact that this man is like twelve feet tall, so the size kink works both ways. even him being dommed by someone bigger than him i see him being into bc it makes him feel small..... basically he likes feeling overly big or overly small lmao

seokmin - mutual masturbation, i’m still a vvvvvv firm believer that seokmin fucks with love so for his kinks i think it’d have to be smth that he would do with someone that he’s comfortable with and can be vulnerable for, and mutual masturbation is that mixed with the kinkiness of seeing how badly your s/o wants you. esp when desperation sets in, i can see him being into hearing your whines or cries bc he wants you just as badly

seungkwan - nipple play, OK I HAVE A THEORY that seungkwan would really only fuck with someone he loves (even more so than seokmin) so i can imagine a situation where seungkwan just hasn’t really explored his body and the first time you guys fuck your hand brushes over his nipples and he just.... fucking loses it bc hes so sensitve there and he never really knew bc he didnt think to try touching himself there. so following that incident he makes it a point to play with his or your nipples bc now hes aware of how much of a difference it makes when it comes to his arousal

vernon - oral, hear me out: ur on ur knees, vernon’s cock in your mouth, giving him the gluck gluck 3000, he’s the type to hiss and just be like “fuuuuck” and throw his head back. ok that had nothing to do with why i think he has an oral kink i just wanted everyone to hear that lmao BUT i think during sex he just want to please his partner and really make them feel good and being able to look up at his s/o while theyre moaning and pulling on his hair would just set that mf off

chan - corruption, originally i saw chan as someone who would be slightly intimidated by a super experienced partner but after thinking about it i can totally see him eventually just getting so horny that he wanted to be absolutely wrecked. like the fact that the person he’s with is so well versed and knows how to get him off while also taking away his “innocence” gets him so mf hard i think it’d turn into something he’s super into

[variousqueerthings]

look I know we’ve been through this, we’ve been over it, we’ve unpicked it at length, but let me try and take off my queercoding hat for a moment (”try”)

Desire, Devotion, Discipline

Desire and Devotion to what? 

To karate? 

I “Desire” karate, I’m “Devoted” to karate... it’s... an odd concept... Desire in particular isn’t something you’d typically use in this context, desire... to get stronger? a devotion to karate techniques? 

and then that phrasing “the first two I can’t give you, the last one I can, but you have to be willing to receive it”

that’s... I mean, it’s Silver teaching him discipline so he can enact his desire to get stronger, because he’s devoted to karate. I’m guessing this must be the reasoning behind that phrasing? 

Which, if that was the intention, that takes away Silver’s effect on Daniel/makes it entirely about karate as a non-metaphorical concept (as in, karate gives Daniel safety, strength, a home, a sense of self, peace).

It kind of stands in contradiction to the fact that it’s not really about karate as a sport, it’s about how Silver corrupts the thing that makes Daniel feel safe, strong, protected and replaces it with him.

So it doesn’t really make sense, except for as a stretched attempt to try and find a non-sexual context for those words (or, trying to figure out just how heterosexual, cisgender and in no way ever come across kink/bdsm as a concept the people making this movie were/the showrunners have got to be in order to not see a sexual subtext to those words). 

Which leaves... Silver. Obviously.

Silver isn’t really asking Daniel to pour his desire and devotion into karate

He’s telling him to desire and be devoted to him, right? He wants to destroy Daniel and he wants him to thank him for it (textually).

And okay, we’re still without the sexual subtext for the moment, that still makes more sense as a reading, because Silver is trying to make Daniel submit to him/trying to own Daniel (this from the titles from the soundtrack) and to do that Daniel has to give over to him completely. Not to the nebulous concept of karate, which he already practises, but to Silver as his teacher/mentor, which again, explicit in the way Silver bullies/coerces him into dropping Miyagi-do teachings.

which Daniel then at the last moment doesn’t do - he doesn’t give himself over/give his desire and devotion wholly to him, hence Silver’s heel-turn, impulsive beating up of him, when the original plan was to wait for the tournament (I’m giving this movie too much credit, indulge me). We all wonder what would have happened if Daniel had just continued down this path.. a different kind of destruction, for sure

Queercoding hat back on (*phew*):

Once you’ve put “desire” and “devotion” into the context of a person, it’s that much harder to argue that there isn’t at least subtext in that phrasing, regardless of gender. 

And once you’ve agreed that karate is a metaphor for all kinds of things in this verse, then adding that sexual component - specifically as a corruption of everything that draws Daniel to karate in the first place - and the fact that it’s a man enacting this onto a boy riiight on the cusp of manhood...

Terry Silver is grooming Daniel, is what I’m saying here. 

Again, nothing new, but since he’s the dark side to everything that Daniel already feels... reading Daniel as bisexual is just... it’s a very in-your-face read (if you’ve got a swanky queercoding hat on)

And here comes the obligatory “if this were a man and a girl it’d be so much more obvious” disclaimer (Terry Silver tells “Danielle” to desire him... horrifying, very sexual...), but you really do wonder, what possible other read can come out of this just because Daniel’s a boy

Boys can’t be groomed, I...?

I just

I need to know what other alternative reading there can be, what is, say, a heterosexual cisgender audience member who, let’s say, is familiar with tropes, but who’s never heard of queercoding before going to get out of that? 

He’s giving Daniel Discipline (textually), so that Daniel can enact his Desire and Devotion onto him. He is teaching Daniel how to show his desire and devotion to him!

this is

can somebody give me a possible alternate reading of this. I’m thinking there’s got to be something that I’ve missed, because this is barely even a read, this is like.

the shallow end of the pool, this is picking up a glaringly shiny seashell of information right where the tide hits the beach on which it says: An adult man tricks a young boy to meet him after dark without his parental figure knowing and hurts and manipulates him, while convincing him that he has the boy’s best interests at heart.

And the words he uses to convince the boy to trust him are Desire, Devotion, Discipline

it’s not very subtle

anyway, give me alternative reads of this, I want them, silly and serious, I want to know what the cisgender, heterosexual, non-kinky (or ever heard of kink) viewer component might be thinking at that moment

[anonniemousefics]

Can we please get more tfota scenes from cardan's pov? Maybe something from qon this time 🙈

Happy New Year! ♥️🥂

It’s so great you guys are enjoying these Cardan POV pieces! This one sort of follows His Monstrous Bride and this other little continuation -- it’s taken from Chapter 18 of The Queen of Nothing when Jude and Cardan talk about her exile before meeting with the Living Council. 

I don’t have a title for it -- let’s just call it His Monstrous Bride Part II. lol

(Also a shameless plug for my ongoing fic The Nine Terrifying Moons, which will feature a Cardan POV chapter coming soon. Wheeeee!)

-----------------------------------------------

Cardan is well versed at hiding his emotions, but it doesn’t hurt to look the part. And the day that his High Queen is finally awakening, once again restored to Elfhame, is a day to dress for a very specific kind of battle. Jude has ignored him for months – now he must be unignorable. He has gold along his cheekbones and caps like gold knives at the tips of his ears. Jude likes knives after all.

He’s flanked by his guards at her door. (Their door? He’s unused to sharing.) The Living Council means to interrupt her convalescence, and he’ll have none of it. He’s there to make sure she is fit and ready, and he doesn’t have to do more than that, he tells himself. His envoy is at his sides at all times now, and still, in this moment, some part of him wishes there were more of them. Wishes he could shrink back from what may lie ahead.

“Your Highness?” His guards are waiting for him to do something. He hadn’t realized how long he’d been hesitating.

It’s just… it’s been months of endless rejection, though he knows now she never received his letters, but still…he’s not sure he can take one more. And his heart is still cracked and raw from her most recent brush with death.

He steels himself. And knocks at the door.

It’s Oak who answers with an innocent smile, which is something of a relief. With Oak around, Jude’s less likely to become stabby.

Although, at least if she’s stabbing him, she’s no longer ignoring him. And Cardan really can’t stand one more minute of being ignored by Jude Duarte.

She’s there now, and the sight of her standing catches him right in the chest. The last time he’d clapped eyes on her, she was bleeding all over his spider-silk sheets. He’d cleaned her blood with his own two hands, but now she’s upright and clear-eyed, dressed in a foreboding black number with silver at her collar and cuffs. Her auburn hair has been braided like a crown, and with smoky traces of rose around her eyes, she looks deadly and formidable once more.

It’s such a welcome sight. He has never been so thrilled to see her. And that’s such a treacherous and terrifying notion, since he thinks it’s very likely she’s might smack him in the near future if he can’t navigate the mess of crossed wires between them.

The thrill lasts only a moment, because then his stomach gives a lurch. He’s just realized that all of her sisters are there, too. And they’re all staring at him. And he’s been staring right back.

Suddenly, Cardan’s on the verge of breaking into a cold sweat.

“Walk with me,” he finally tells Jude, eager to get away from so many Duarte eyes.

“Of course.” Jude’s brown eyes in particular seem uncharacteristically wide and confused.

Vivienne catches Jude’s hand before she can join him.

“You’re not well enough,” she objects. As if Cardan can’t take care of her. As if he hadn’t cleaned up her blood himself.

“The Living Council is eager to speak with her,” he says instead. Jude should be proud of how he’s learned to curb his tongue in her absence.

“The only danger anyone has ever been in at a Council meeting is of being bored to death,” Jude is reassuring her family, before stepping away, the guards folding in around them.

Cardan offers her his arm – he wants to keep her close, and he wants Vivienne to take note. It is different now, and he wants them all to see. Jude is cared for here.

He wants to take his time with her at his arm as they swap neutral business about the Roach, about the Bomb, about Madoc, but he can hardly even look at her. His head is full of visions of those nights he wrote to her again and again, outright begging in the end, and then lying awake, alone, certain his agony would be never-ending. Gods above, he’d even written once that his heart was hers, buried with her in the soil of the mortal world -- and she’d sent no reply. And though he knows now it’s because she hadn’t even received it, he’s still completely unsure of how to act.

It’s extremely unsettling how normal Jude seems in this moment. As if no time has passed at all.

And there are still so many eyes on them. Courtiers bobbing their heads as they pass. The guards just an arm’s length away. This is no place to try to sort through what he had written to her, what she needed to know. So maybe he just won’t, he thinks. Maybe it can just be like this for an eternity and he can go back to drinking away his feelings after this Council meeting. Maybe this is the most he should hope for.

But then, Jude says: “I need to talk to you.”

And his heart plummets to his guts. He’s not sure he can keep the dread off his face.

“It won’t take long,” Jude says, which is maybe worse. It means it’s simple: she wants to end their marriage. She wants to return to the mortal world. Of course she does.

But then, she says: “Whatever your scheme is, whatever you are planning to hold over me, you might as well tell me now, before we’re in front of the whole Council. Make your threats. Do your worst.”  

What? What the bleeding skies is she talking about? This is such a mess he’s made. And it is, perhaps, the first mess he’s ever truly cared to clean up.

Cardan turns them away toward a corridor to the outdoors.

“Yes,” he agrees. “We do need to talk.”

He steers them for the royal rose garden, where he knows the guards will stop at the gate and leave them alone. He has only a few steps down a path of shimmering quartz stairs among the roses to decide exactly what parts of his heart he’s willing to reveal today. What exactly won’t hurt so terribly much should she throw it all back in his face.

“I assume you weren’t actually trying to shoot me,” he says, choosing first the obvious and easiest. “Since the note was in your handwriting.”

“Madoc sent the Ghost--” Jude starts, but then stops. Softens. “I thought that there was going to be an attempt on your life.”

This does not mean that she cares for you, he has to remind himself. He still doesn’t want to look at her. The memory of perceived rejection is still too strong, still too bitter.

But he’s not going to live with the regrets he’d drowned in when she’d nearly died. He tries to choose his next words carefully.

“It was terrifying,” he admits, feigning interest in a nearby bush of jet black roses, “watching you fall. I mean, you’re generally terrifying, but I am unused to fearing for you.” He swallows back the memories, threatening the periphery of his mind. “And then I was furious. I am not sure I have ever been that angry before.”  

“Mortals are fragile,” Jude shrugs him off. She doesn’t get it.

“Not you,” he sighs. “You never break.”

There. Can that be enough? He’s made it fairly obvious now, hasn’t he? Surely she gets it now – he doesn’t want her to die, he doesn’t want to see her hurt. Witnessing it was the worst thing he’s ever seen. Because he cares for her.

If he has to spell it out, it might kill him. So, he just waits for what she has to say to that.

Jude’s looking at the roses, too, when he glances at her, her thick lashes lowered.

“When I came here, pretending to be Taryn, you said you’d sent me messages,” she says, and oh, please, gods, not this. “You seemed surprised I hadn’t gotten any. What was in them?”

Cardan wants to vomit. No, he needs to vomit. If his nervous stomach would cooperate and vomit everywhere, he could still get away from this with a shred of dignity.

He clasps his hands behind his back so she can’t see how they shake, his smile telling the lies that the rest of him can’t. That he is cool and unaffected, not at all hopelessly in love with the mortal girl in front of him.

“Pleading, mostly.” He tries to say it like it’s a joke. “Beseeching you to come back. Several indiscreet promises.” Maybe that little bit of tantalizing will flatter her.

It doesn’t. Actually, he’s not sure Jude can be flattered. She closes her eyes shut in no small amount of frustration.

“Stop playing games,” she growls. “You sent me into exile.”

“Yes. That.” Right, of course she doesn’t love that he’s beating around the bush. If only he could help it. He’s so goddamn nervous. “I can’t stop thinking about what you said to me, before Madoc took you. About it being a trick. You meant marrying you, making you queen, sending you to the mortal world, all of it, didn’t you?”

The glare she throws him is so very Jude, though he loves it less when it’s directed at him.

“Of course it was a trick,” she seethes. “Wasn’t that what you said in return?”

Well, this is rich.

“But that’s what you do. You trick people.” Though Cardan’s starting to realize just how wrong he’s been about the things Jude enjoys. “I thought you’d admire me a little for it, that I could trick you. I thought you’d be angry, of course, but not quite like this.”

“What?” Jude looks like she could unhinge her jaw and swallow him whole. He might even deserve it.

He needs to put an end to this nightmare. There’s still a miniscule chance she’ll find some part of it amusing.

“Let me remind you that I didn’t know you’d murdered my brother, the ambassador to the Undersea, until that very morning,” he points out. Surely, the context will help his case. “My plans were made in haste. And perhaps I was a little annoyed. I thought it would pacify Queen Orlagh, at least until all promises were finalized in the treaty. By the time you guessed the answer, the negotiations would be over.”

But Jude’s face is unchanged. He isn’t seriously this good at trickery, is he?

“Think of it,” he presses, hoping she’ll follow along. “I exile Jude Duarte to the mortal world. Until and unless she is pardoned by the crown.” Any minute now. Any minute.

“Pardoned by the crown,” he repeats to her blank stare. Right, so, this game isn’t funny anymore.

“Meaning by the King of Faerie. Or its queen,” he explains, watching her eyes grow wider, wilder. “You could have returned anytime you wanted.”

When he’d first envisioned her figuring out the riddle, he’d expected probably a punch in the arm, maybe she would have even drawn her blade again. That would have been delightful. He’d thought about trembling beneath her again, about that searing look she got in her eye just before devouring his lips. That would have been – gods. He might have considered letting her murder more of his brothers to have that again.

But what is happening now is decidedly the opposite. Jude’s breath is quickening, her face flushing, and in the air between them, Cardan feels a rift cracking wider. He hasn’t played a trick – he’s done something horrible.

When Jude begins to back away from him, he thinks back to what it felt like to find Nicasia with Locke. What Jude’s face is doing now – that is what his heart had done then. She is recoiling from him. Jude Duarte is recoiling from him, because he has hurt her.

He honestly had not thought it was possible. He honestly had not thought himself capable. He honestly had not thought she cared enough.

She whirls then and marches away from him, and he has never hated himself more. Stop her, he thinks, but he’s still stunned. If he’d known she cared…

Stop her!

He runs after her. She has to know he wouldn’t have done it if he’d known. She has to know he will fight to keep her now that he knows. But when he seizes her arm, she hauls around and slaps him, hard enough to turn his face.

It’s not the worst hit he’s taken, not by a long shot, but its sting is entirely different. There’s something fiery in her eyes, and, for the first time, he’s aware that he is not the only one who has been in agony these long months. Oh, he would undo it all now if he could. He would pull her in and kiss her over and over until they both stopped hurting.

Except she still looks murderous. Getting close to her face is probably not a good idea if he doesn’t want to be bitten. (He does kind of want to be bitten, just…in a very different scenario.)

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he says, carefully, and his hand finds hers. To his great surprise, she lets their fingers lace together, and his heart seizes with a wild hope. It does not mean she loves you, he thinks. He fumbles. “No, it’s not that, not exactly. I didn’t think I could hurt you. And I never thought you would be afraid of me.”

“And did you like it?” Jude asks, narrowing her eyes.

His cheek is hot from the slap of her hand, and now with shame. Because how is he supposed to answer that? He didn’t hate being more powerful for once. He didn’t hate being the one with the answer to the riddle.

“Well, I was hurt.” He’s hesitated too long, and now Jude’s pressing on. “And yes, you scare me.”

Cardan finds himself taking in her full face then, the one that has always seemed so defiant and fearless and headstrong.

“You’ve always scared me,” Jude is saying, and this is what almost undoes him. She repeats it, telling him again and again each moment she had been afraid of him, and with each one, his mind bursts a little more. This doesn’t seem real. “And I am scared of you now,” she concludes, that defiant gleam in her eye til the end.

Cardan is speechless. And Cardan’s never speechless.

There was a time when he enjoyed playing a villain in her heroic story line, but she wasn’t supposed to be truly afraid of him. She was supposed to vanquish him and make him beg for her kindness. (And he would now. He really would.)

(Maybe he will.)

“You despised me,” Jude reminds him, because he does need reminding. He’s not sure now if he ever really did. “When you said you wanted me, it felt like the world had turned upside down. But sending me into exile, that made sense. That was an entirely right-side-up Cardan move. And I hated myself for not seeing it coming. And I hate myself for not seeing what you’re going to do to me next.”

At that, Cardan closes his eyes. Hopelessness is threatening to overtake him. Fear has created this monster before him, the one who irrevocably holds his heart. Is it possible to unmake such a curse? He’s certainly been unable to find a cure for his own fear, lifelong coward that he is.

When she’d first returned and his heart was freshly cracked, he’d thought back to a fairy story about a boy cursed with a heart of stone and the monster he took as his bride. It had been patience and fearlessness that had won over the monster in the end – something the boy had managed only because of his stony heart.

So, Cardan thinks of stones then. Of pulling together all his cracked and raw edges. Of being impenetrable and solid and fearless. He thinks of doing what needs to be done. He needs her, for so many things, and she must know that. Perhaps it is folly to wish for anything more than simply averting a crisis.

But he can’t manage it if he’s looking at her. He releases her hand and turns away.

“I can see why you thought what you did,” he says at last. “I suppose I am not an easy person to trust. And maybe I ought not to be trusted, but let me say this: I trust you.”

Patience. Fearlessness. Deep breath.

“You may recall that I did not want to be High King. And that you did not consult me before plopping this crown on my head. You may further recollect that Balekin didn’t want me to keep the title and that the Living Council never took a real shine to me.

“There was a prophecy given when I was born. Usually Baphen is uselessly vague, but in this case, he made it clear that should I rule, I would make a very poor king.” It hurts more than he thought it would to say it out loud. “The destruction of the crown, the ruination of the throne – a lot of dramatic language.”

He has to be cavalier about it; it stings too much otherwise. It’s been the bane of his existence, this prophecy. It is the reason his entire childhood was filled with nothing but dismissal and cruelty. It’s the very, very low standard he’s spent his whole life trying not to meet. The best his family had ever hoped for from him was his complete and utter disappearance – and he’d failed to do even that.

He turns back to Jude. Patience. Fearlessness. He has so much more to say. He has so much more he wants to be than this. Deep breath.

“When you forced me into working for the Court of Shadows, I never thought of the things I could do – frightening people, charming people – as talents, no less ones that might be valuable. But you did. You showed me how to use them to be useful. I never minded being a minor villain, but it’s possible I might have grown into something else, a High King as monstrous as Dain. And if I did – if I fulfilled that prophecy, I ought to be stopped. And I believe that you would stop me.”

Jude sputters at that, blinking hard.

“Stop you?” she echoes. “Sure. If you’re a huge jerk and a threat to Elfhame, I’ll pop your head right off.”

“Good.” And he means it. To die by Jude’s hand would be a dream. “That’s one reason I didn’t want to believe you’d joined up with Madoc. The other is that I want you here by my side,” and just for good measure, just in case she still isn’t getting it: “As my queen.”

But he can’t read the expression on Jude’s face when he says it – if it brings her joy, if it brings her more distress. He’s not sure what else he could have said to make it any more clear. And now her silence is threatening to eat him alive. This reeks of the beginnings of yet another rejection.

He smiles at her, instinctively, a last ditch effort to make this even slightly less awkward.

“But now that you’re High Queen and back in charge, I won’t be doing anything of consequence anyway,” he promises. “If I destroy the crown and ruin the throne, it will only be through neglect.”

He wants her to smile back. To roll her eyes at him and act like she isn’t amused when she so clearly is. He’s missed that, oh, how he’s missed that.

He gets all that and more when she blurts out a laugh.

“So that’s your excuse for not doing any of the work?” She quirks an eyebrow, and it makes his heart swell. They’re smiling together again. He’d needed that, too, more than he’d realized. “You must be draped in decadence at all times because if you aren’t kept busy, you might fulfill some half-baked prophecy.”

“Exactly,” he says. Exactly… It’s more true than he wants it to be. His smile fades. And Jude is looking more tired than he’s comfortable with. He hopes he has not pushed her too hard. He touches her arm, gently, not thinking. Her gaze catches his, soft and warm. He finds himself leaning in…

“Would you like me to inform the Council that you will see them another time?” he asks. “It will be a novelty to have me make your excuses.”

But Jude is stalwart and determined as ever. He expected nothing less.

He pulls back. She does not need him. Not like he needs her.

“No, I’m ready,” she says.

How he wishes he could say the same.

-----------

Tagging: @yellowavocadopit, @dagypsygirl, @ireallyshouldsleeprn, @booklover-sleeplover, @mwejh, @courtofjurdan, @faeriequeenofwest, @sugawsites, @loveyourselfsolid, @owl0y0s, @feelinglikecleopatra, @akaloto, @charrise, @persephxnecoven, @raging-bisexual-alert, @rteme, @nahthanks, @addies-invisible-life, @elorcanislife, @snusbandxknifewife, @poeticbrownmermaid, @duarteegreenbriar, @thefolkofthefic, @alittledribbledrabble, @carmensworld17, @annejulianneh111, @amandlas, @elriel4life, @idk-what-name-to-use, @thewickedkings, @juliazato, @woodsbeyond1, @booksmusicandgoodvibes, 

[straighttohellbuddy]

📓 !!

Okay im so excited please know I think about How The Light Gets In's world every day still, and so anyways here is a side story I want to write but there's a lot of set up regarding the reader and eef becoming friends again. For context, they were incredibly close around 2014-2017, but people were getting creepy and invasive and demanding about their friendship (think 2012 toxic side of the Phandom, if that makes sense), and a lot of the reader's relationships were strained at that time because while they had been successful before, they were absolutely blowing up after their first album released and they became far more mainstream. They felt like they were bothering the people they had become closest to, both because they're worried that they're a bother, and because gossip rags and paps would harrass their friends looking for a scoop, and so they ended up just completely cutting off contact without warning one day right before they went on their first tour. the start of HTLGI is about 3 years since they'd been in proper contact with any of the creators they were close to at that time.

DON'T LOOK AT ME on their 2017 ep Hyperfocus was a more general song in response to everything that had been happening in their life around that time, with a focus on how they stop associating with anyone for a while, without outright addressing it, but on their latest album n o s t a l g i a, read at 5am ft. Troye was specifically written at the start of quarantine, when the reader was getting back into YouTube, about their feelings regarding how their friendship with ethan ended, as they spent a lot of this time looking back of their YouTube career, and he was the person they were closest to for a very long time, before they iced everyone out.

OKAY SO THERES MORE OF THE BACKGROUND OF THE WHOLE FIC AND THE READER BUT

Werewolf Ethan & Mark. I'm sorry I don't make the rules. They have golden retriever energy you cannot change my mind. But also because this is the HTLGI you know that supernatural characteristics are able to be activated rather than just triggered by the full moon. What I'm trying to say is since this is set in the year of Unus Annus, they film a video together that's like, you know that show where a person has to try and outwit a professional tracker? Except its the reader being tracked by two werewolves at night in a national park. Reader is wearing some sort of night vision camera on themselves so whenever it cuts to them the audience can't actually see how they're using their powers, if that makes sense.

Also the reader agreed to this knowing it would probably be when they ended up telling Mark and Ethan about them being a demon.

Video is titled Hunting Down An Old Friend

A few Moments that the boys edit out:

The reader using their stupidly sharp prehensile tail to swing from tree branches, though they leave in shots where the reader's tail can't be seen.

Knowing that with the werewolves having advanced hearing, the reader would give themselves away by talking to the camera, they take a few minutes having flown up to a high tree branch, to pull out a notebook and do a little sketch of how Mark and Ethan appear in their Demon True Sight, and holding it up to their camera.

Werewolves being one of the animals who can kind of sense demons without being able to identify them, essentially like dogs can sense natural disasters and are often good judges of character, this can be heightened on command for werewolves. There's about 15 minutes of footage cut out of the boys discussing or mentioning how this place has awful vibes and that they should have done this during the day. It gets worse as they get closer to the reader, who didn't realise that the boys hadn't thought to ever use that particular power around them before.

("I say this with so much love and appreciation for you, dude," Ethan yells, looking up at you from the base of the tree they'd finally found you in, "but I- this is making me anxious I feel like something terrible's gonna happen, and we should probably get out of here and film the rest of the video back at Mark's." And behind him, Mark's nodding, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, eyes scanning the trees for whatever was most likely the cause of this terrible impending doom.

Oh. It's you. And they don't know its you.

Now or never, you suppose.

"Can you cut the cameras for a second? You're going to be fine I promise," you called back, and though they obligingly did, they both seemed antsy. You cleared your throat awkwardly, "that... that terrible feeling, that's not the park or anything in it- well I mean, it is, but it's just- it's me."

and later

"Dude your wings smell like rotten eggs."

"To YOU Ethan! And no they don't!"

"If it makes you feel better they smell like burning and rotten eggs."

"It does not."

(for reference, when enhancing their sense of smell werewolves can kind of distinguish various supernatural creatures, or parts of supernatural creatures. Some creatures have an inherent scent, but some, like angels and demons, only have distinct scents when they've activated certain attributesor abilities; demon wings smell like fire and brimstone, which unfortunately means burning and rotten eggs. I like to think angels wings are like the love potion in Harry Potter that smells like the things you love the most. Mark and Ethan usually don't enhance it around each other because they smell like wet dog to the other)

This gets about 2k notes on tumblr. The reader likes it:

Ethan finally finding Y/N at the end of Hunting Down An Old Friend (2020) Colourised.

Other things to note regarding all this:

It takes a while to rebuild their friendship to the point where they're comfortable enough to be on camera together (eef and reader specifically).

However, the Unus Annus video is the first thing they properly do together, and the reader, in an effort to connect more and make up for the past, will join in multiplayer gaming streams if asked.

Impromptu duet in proximity Among Us of Young Volcanoes by Fall Out Boy, which has their respective chats and fandoms losing their minds, except it stops abruptly after the first chorus as they both remember the opening lines of the second verse (make it easy, say I never mattered -- those lyrics hit a little too close to home)

But also the reader convinces him to join him for a proper cover in like, February of 2021, and it's something deeply sappy (I'm thinking Bon Iver by mxmtoon because I think its sweet and fits them well)

Also Ethan being reminded that the reader is kind of a much bigger deal than when they'd been friends before.

designed to hurt (touch me) from their ep Working On It is nominated for a Grammy for Track of the Year, and n o s t a l g i a wins Best Pop Album (because it's my fic and I said so)

FIRST OF ALL designed to hurt (touch me) is a beautifully produced song about Corpse (which people do not know) and the title itself is literally making fun of something he said IMAGINE his reaction to it being Grammy Nominated 😂😂😂 God he'd be proud but lowkey fuming, meanwhile the moment the nominations are announced the reader tweets:

me: here is an album where I processed my entire world view including heartfelt explorations of the trauma of existing and oversharing in the public eye from a young age without the traditional barrier between audience and entertainer

the grammys: that's cute BUT you know the song you wrote to bully your boyfriend and also be horny on main for him before you guys were even dating? THAT deserves its own recognition.

meanwhile Ethan's like..... this is the same person who I filmed a video with playing cards against humanity, and you laughed so hard you almost threw up. I am very proud but deeply confused.

The Hot Meme of Late April 2021 is "2 time Grammy Award Winning Artist Y/N" with a gif, still, or quote from the reader where they're just being an absolute chaos gremlin.

Of course we have "If I bleached my asshole for charity I'd do it tastefully."

2 Time Grammy Award Winning Artist Y/N speaking to their actual boyfriend in the year of our lord 2020: You are being executed for Clown Crimes.

ethan posts a short video to twitter simply of his screen where he's renaming a folder from "Never Before Seen Images of Grammy Award Winning Artist Y/N" simply changing it to 2 time Artist. The reader responds specifically to his tweet with a video of themselves asking Google how to hard reset someone else's computer.

So many screenshots from old videos surface that week.

I miss this world. Sorry this is rambly!!

[theprophetsaid]

I’M SCARED - ANALYSIS

While Another World will live rent-free in my head forever, I’m Scared makes me want to scream. I don’t know if that’s good or bad, but I know that I had to do an analysis of this one as well. 

Disclaimer: I’m not telling you what to think. I’m writing my analysis based on how the song is presented. You are free to make up your own mind about it. 

Part I: This is personal 

Since I can’t find an interview where Brian talks about I’m Scared, I’ll discuss how he sees himself as a songwriter and how that influences the song. In an interview about his album Back To The Light, Brian says:

"(...) I can only function if a song means something to me regarding human relationships. I like to write about things that are personal, rather than about politics and other wider issues.” 

He labels himself as a personal writer who, above all else, writes about human relationships. That is important in the context of I’m Scared, as it allows me to assume that the voice in the song belongs to himself, not a made up character. 

Brian worked on this album during a period of massive emotional turmoil for him, while he was struggling with his mental health and thought his life was in ruins. That, as you will see, also relates to this specific song. 

Edit / addition:

Since writing this analysis I’ve come across an interview where Brian (very briefly) talks about the song: GW: "I'm Scared" is an interesting one.

MAY: Yeah, that goes back a long way. I kept doing different versions of that, as I kept finding out that I was scared of more and more things. And I figured that most of us are. We just keep it inside. I think it's good to let all that stuff out sometimes. Do a bit of screaming. — Guitar World Magazine, January 1993.

Here, Brian says that the song took a long time to write, but he also “confirms” that it’s about his own fears. In other words, this song is about himself.

Furthermore, Brian has revealed (on his live stream last week) that ‘I’m Scared’ is the first song he wrote for the album. Do what you will with that information.

With all of this in mind, I’ll break down the lyrics and the story that they tell.

—

Part II: The Story

You take me to the party You put me on the stand You're pumping up my heart To the beating of the band You toss it in the air And you don't care where it lands You take it, you break it You're hurting me There’s a clear dynamic set up here. There’s a ‘me’ (Brian, presumably) and a ‘you’ (someone else), but this dynamic is framed in a certain way right off the bat because the person he’s with is doing everything, and doing them to Brian (’You take me to the party’; ‘You put me on the stand). 

The phrase, ‘Pumping up my heart’ seems to be a metaphor for attraction and the heart-racing sensation that it often causes. Then after ‘pumping up [Brian’s] heart’, this person carelessly plays with it and breaks it, hurting him. This person that he’s with is in control while Brian is presented as passive and, frankly, rather powerless in comparison. 

Because I wasn't prepared I couldn't go where you dared You got my whole soul bared I never knew that you cared (No it just ain't fair) I’m scared (x13)

This chorus more or less explains the imbalance in control by implying that it relates to bravery. Brian doesn’t consider himself as daring as the other person, which would make him less able/likely to take control in the dynamic.

Also, ‘you got my whole soul bared’ is interesting because it implies that this person understands Brian on an intimate level in spite of him not opening up; Brian didn’t intentionally bare his soul to them but they can somehow see it regardless.

You take me out to dinner And you swallow me whole You're nothing but a sinner With a dark black soul I figured I could handle you But I'm just a toy You're getting bolder and bolder You're just a bad bad boy

This verse is the game-changer. It describes that Brian went out to dinner with whoever this person is. The difference in bravery/control between them is consistent, but the metaphors that describe the dynamic here are not emotional as they are in the first verse. They are sexual. ‘You swallow me whole’, ‘sinner’, and ‘toy’ have those clear connotations, which heavily implies that there is a sexual aspect to this dynamic. 

(Moreover, being swallowed whole alludes to a... very specific sexual act and I frankly don’t know what to do with that information, but I’ll leave it here: It’s a blowjob, folks.)

Now, let’s address the elephant in the room, shall we? It’s that last line. It changes everything about this song.

Brian is singing about a man. 

The ‘you’ is explicitly gendered as male. That is non-debatable. Moreover, gendering the ‘you’ in this verse, specifically, is a bold move because it includes so much sexual language. Brian describing himself as this man’s toy, singing about being ‘swallowed whole’ and being unable to handle him... It alludes to a sexual relationship, and I didn’t read into that. That’s just how it’s presented.

What you staring at You're such a scaredy cat When I know that I just can't fight it So what you staring at You're such a scaredy cat Because I'm only scared that maybe I might like it

Edit / Section changed due to new interpretation:

This bridge is interesting mostly because of the way Brian sings it. The bolded lines are sung in a tone that’s different from that of the unbolded ones. It creates the feeling of two people speaking to each other. This makes even more sense when you look at the lines themselves. “What you staring at, you’re such a scaredy-cat” seems like a taunt, whereas “When I know I just can’t fight it” and “Because I’m only scared that maybe I might like it” are framed like responses to this taunt. This paints a picture of the man taunting Brian for staring/being scared, and Brian “responding” to this with the bolded lines.

Now, as far as the meaning behind the bolded lines goes, the ‘it’ is unspecific. However, when you view them in the context of the previous verse, which has a very sexual tone, I think it’s safe to assume what it is that he can’t fight. What he’s scared of liking. It’s about attraction, and it’s about sex. 

After this fear of ‘maybe liking it’ has been sung, the song breaks off into a section in which Brian sings about everything that frightens him. When you listen to the recording, the fears are thrown at you in a rapid pace and it’s difficult to hear them as they pan from ear to ear, but here are some of them:

I'm scared to change, I'm scared to stay the same I'm so scared I want to die I'm scared of dying I'm scared of my thoughts I'm scared of being found out

The bolded fear ‘I’m scared of being found out’ is the last thing you hear when you listen to the song because Brian screams it; it’s louder than anything else. But overall this whole section is a major red flag for his mental health deteriorating; it presents fear as a constant whirl in his mind. Each fear seems to produce yet another fear until it becomes a spiral of sorts. 

(Interestingly, the spiral seems to grow out of his fear of ‘maybe liking it’.)

Following this section, the lyrics jump back to the story of Brian and the other man:

You take me to the limit You take me to the brink You left me with the blues When you found me in the pink You know just what you're saying But your metaphors stink I gotta lick it,or stick it Or this is the end

Edit / section changed due to new interpretation:

As we return to the verse structure, we also return to the dynamic, with the lines “You take me to the limit, you take me to the brink.” These illustrate that the man has taken Brian to “his limit”, probably emotionally, and “to the brink,” which, again… if you look at it in relation to the language and connotations of the previous verse… it can be seen as a, um, sexual brink, if you know what I mean.  

“You left me with the blues when you found me in the pink”. As @iwilltrytobereasonable pointed out in the comments, in the pink is an old metaphor for being in your optimal state of health and wellbeing. The blues is a self-explanatory contrast to that. To me, this line is Brian saying, “You met me at a time where I was doing well but, because of what you did to me, I’m now depressed. So fuck you.”

Now, “I gotta lick it or stick it, or this is the end” is still mysterious to me, but as someone pointed out in the comments, it might be a form of ultimatum. Because this dynamic is written as sexual, I’m gonna assume that the ultimatum is, too.  Since Brian “couldn’t go” where the other man dared, does this refer back to that? Was he given the option to either “lick it” or “stick it”, but couldn’t go there so it just ended? To me, that makes the most sense.

The Hidden Lyric:

Before I move onto the melody, there’s one last thing that I want to talk about, which is a hidden lyric toward the end of the track. By “hidden” I mean that it wasn’t included on the lyric sheet, but you can hear it, muffled in the background. As Brian sings, “I’m scared, I’m scared” repeatedly, there’s a single time where you can hear him quickly yell “Maybe I’m wrong!” afterward.

So the hidden lyric is:

I’m scared (Maybe I’m wrong!)

And… this line kills me because, keeping everything in mind about the narrative of this song and the emotions that it discusses… What might Brian be wrong about?? And why does that scare him so badly?? I think it’s pretty self-explanatory but it seems to be an acknowledgement that he might be wrong… about himself.

With all of That out of the way, I want to end by discussing the melody of the song quickly. 

—

Section III: The Melody

If you read the lyrics to this song before listening to it, chances are that you’re gonna be thrown off as soon as you press ‘play’ because the melody and overall tempo of the song does not match the content of the lyrics at all. It’s a fast-paced, guitar-heavy beat that makes your head spin. The singing is aggressive and full of confidence, which immediately diminishes the heavy words that are coming out of Brian’s mouth. 

Because the beat is so overwhelming, Brian can sing ‘I’m scared’ about 50 times (or more, I haven’t actually counted) in the song and it won’t really land because the rhythm is too distracting. The rhythm tells you something else, it says, ‘bang your head and forget about it’ 

I definitely find it alarming that he sings about such intense fear in a nonchalant way, in a way that almost forces the listener to look past it. Why would Brian choose to do this? I dare suggest that it is to present this song as the ultimate case of irony. It’s as if he’s saying, ‘I’m pouring my heart out to you and you don’t even notice because I’m singing like everything’s fine. I’m pretending that everything is fine.” 

—

Final Thoughts:

So, why does this song make me want to scream?

Well, I think that should be obvious by now. I know this analysis could make some people uncomfortable but, frankly, I don’t care. I don’t think it’s appropriate to ignore the obvious implications of the song’s narrative simply because we don’t want to question what we think we know about Brian’s sexuality. The fact of the matter is that I’m Scared is about a man, and not only that, it is intentionally sexual in tone. That, I think, is non-debatable. What it means, well... As I said, you are free to ponder that on your own. 

[feather-dancer]

⭐

I've noticed while I'm an angst magnet who occasionally wanders in fluffier directions my niche really seems to be in writing characters with mental health issues and oddly enough I never even intended it?

Jim having anxiety is a given of course, he does in canon, so it's not all that surprising my brain wandered off one afternoon wondering what would happen if he didn't have his support network after being bathtubbed. That one became Ghosts he left behind where we've had stress induced disassociation, dysphoria about his new body plus his fight with anxiety and panic attacks WHICH GIVEN HOW CHAPTER 3 ENDED he's tipping well into breaking point territory making it all the more critical they get hold of him before he completely gives into the monster he's terrified of being. He's fighting it with everything in his arsenal though, the biggest problem is he's been caught in a spiral of awful that is messing with his memories causing him to second guess and has no means of seeing a way out via someone he trusts so it only digs in deeper. Having been in one of these I've drawn on my own experience and they are godawful, this is the perfect storm for Jim to be hit by one and boy is it.

Plot aside in general nobody treats his anxiety as a funny personality quirk or Jim being dramatic, it's completely normalised and steps are in place to help when it has a !! moment which is a rarity in all fiction honestly? There has been a mention that he was on medication but the Darklands incident caused a "hiccup" in how effective they were, Toby mentioning he's particularly worried about that because something really must have freaked him out to not even contact Barbara from past experiences and Claire had been taught some CBT techniques as well. Brain having stupid moments is part of Jim that does not have an easy fix but you can be given means to cope which I hope other anxiety sufferers reading can appreciate. I've seen more than a few that just give him anxiety and either write it badly or he's the only one in the world who seems to and everyone else just ignores it.

Sensory overload has popped up a couple times as well which is another thing I get that does generally need specific circumstances to trigger depending on what your own flavour is. My BIG one is sound and Jim having heightened senses now is discovering how much they suck because it's all new and people are so noisy without realising it. This is part of the reason he keeps bolting for the same place in the woods: It's a lot quieter there and while anxiety brain will still kick off at least so many voices or strong smells from cars and general human habitation that don't seem to stop can't overwhelm his senses there. One less thing to worry about in an ocean of pear shape.

Sliiiight spoiler for As long as there are stars in the sky chapter 3 but Douxie has one here too because of extreme circumstances: Shunted in and out the Void with no warning (Thanks Kanjigar), the existing stress of the situation upped even more by being outted and worry for those outside plus he hadn't realised his bond with Archie got temporarily disrupted so he got slammed HARD with the panic belatedly when back in the Forge. The last was one thing too many, he hit the floor leaving familiar and Zoe to spring into action to ease him through it as it's one of the worst places it could have happened. It's not treated like a surprise to their party because they know him so well and recognise the signs and that it's very different from injury or panic attack because of that all important normalisation again whereas the trolls understandably have no idea . They're gonna need to come up with something suitable to explain it away without anyone finding out they're magic users sure but that is about pat and parcel of the hilarious mess that is this plot.

In Heart of Glass chapter 1 Douxie ended up having a straight up disassociation moment because one of his trauma triggers was (Unintentionally of course) mentioned and his brain just noped out the conversation breaking a pen in the process. How you react when one comes up is unpredictable at the best of times, he ended up going that route because he was already stressed while doing his best to hide that fact as much as possible essentially causing a bsod moment when the limit was shot through in an instant. The thing was even before it happened Archie sensed there was a potential incident waiting to happen and was trying to calm him down which unfortunately didn't work. That said his presence there helped him ease into the other side because even in his worst moments his familiar means safety able to keep alert for danger while being cuddled the shit out of. It had the added bonus of showing how close their bond is as well as just how traumatised the bean is in that verse centuries on without a laundry list of hows and whys.

I'm not sure where it falls under really but there's the touch averse thing that all variants of Douxie I write AU or not share. If it's on his terms or he knows/trusts you it's fine, if it's unexpected or he doesn't know who you are there is always that hitch of panic and looking for a polite out. Why? It can very quickly turn into a grab, the associations of being snatched up by knights or anyone else he's run into over the years remains firmly embedded in the Not Good category. Somewhat ironic when if he's comfortable he's a very touchy person and a hugger but that is of course on his own terms not anyone else's. Some trauma you simply cannot age away from, it’s stuck for life.

ANYWAY TANGENT ASIDE more mental health issues and reactions to trauma being normalised in the world they exist in and given the respect they deserve and not treated like a character trait please. If you can have a character be gay or Trans (Meeeee blatantly hinting Jim is Trans without saying he is is because it'd make no sense to in context is fun) or something like dyslexia without everyone making a big deal out of it you can have someone with anxiety without treating it like "oh they're just anxious lol". I write it myself in the hopes that it might help at least one person understand what it's like or better yet another see somebody writing it that understands what it's like and isn't using it for cheap shock value. I have to put up with all this shit it's about time it does something useful.

[im-the-punk-who]

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@rnmmarchformeta​ Day 1: Tonight’s theme is: Themes

Malex and Music: Tracing a relationship through music used in the show - Part 1

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Given that both Michael and Alex have a personal connection to music, I wanted to go over some of the intricacies of what the music choices and lyrics/stories behind the songs used might tell us about Malex. The music choices in Roswell New Mexico are deliberate and often incredibly pointed. Particularly in the case of Michael and Alex there are elements of their relationship that are not so much underlined as written about only in the lyrical choices that play under their scenes. This choice for me made rewatching the series a lot of fun because as I discovered the lyrics to some of the more obscure song choices I kept discovering new intricacies and motivations for each of their decisions. Below the cut for length.

(Author’s note circa 2007:  (rawr xD) I’m focusing specifically on the parts of these songs that play over or in direct correlation to scenes where Michael and Alex are both present. I would love to explore this theme in the wider context of the whole show and how their interactions with other characters might change some of these but...this is already like 6k and that’s just how the peas and carrots cooked. That said I will be referencing other characters and relationships as relevant, particularly, I will be talking at some length about Milexa and the airstream scenes in 2x06. I personally have a favorable reading of the scenes and what they mean for Michael and Alex. I also talk briefly about Milexa in a few other spots - they’ve been marked as ‘Milexa’ or ‘Miluca’ if you wish to skip them, although I don’t know if this will make sense as a whole without them. But, should you wish. Proceed accordingly. <3)

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Posted on AO3 here.

Sedona - Houndstooth (1x01)

The first song we hear in relation to Malex is ‘Sedona’ by Houndstooth. The song plays during the reunion as we see Alex confront Michael about the chemicals found around his airstream. The verse that plays underneath the scene references how, due to its scenic beauty, the town of Sedona was once a highly sought after filming location but had fallen into obscurity when cowboy movies went out of style in the late 70′s.

Similarly, Alex tells Michael that he is ‘wasting his life.’

“Does the macho cowboy swagger thing ever get old for you?”

“Did it get old for you?”

For me, this scene is as much an introduction to the past between these two as their present. Gone but not forgotten, their interactions are a ‘script’ that the two of them play off of. In other words, Michael and Alex don’t so much interact as play off of what the other expects from the other. This becomes especially clear when in 2x05 we learn that Alex has at least once before warned Michael about ‘wasting his life.’

When The Truth Hunts You Down - Sam Tinnesz (1x01)

The next scene is this one, in which we see Alex contemplating an old picture of himself. We then see Michael watching him.

Later, the last line is overlaid with Jesse telling Kyle about the existence of aliens.

The truth about Michael’s alienness is quiet literally hunting them, but so is something about Alex’s past. As we get to know him, we learn just how much his father is interconnected with all of the worst moments in his life and everrything he has buried and tried to run from in order to avoid it. Michael, Roswell itself - Alex ran halfway across the world to try to run away from the trauma of his youth, and yet here he is.

“Nostalgia’s a bitch, huh?”

“You know I thought when I got back from Iraq you would be long gone.”

“Is that what you want?”

“We’re not kids anymore. What I want doesn't matter.” 

We also find out something of the nature of his and Michael’s relationship and that there are clearly still feelings between them - no matter how much Alex is trying to deny it.

Give Me The Night - Des Rocs (1x02)

This is one of my personal faves from the Malex soundtracks. It just *slaps* okay?

Aside from the obvious nod to Michael’s alienness, this song underscores the divide still between Michael and Alex despite the passionate kiss they shared at the reunion. Michael is initially flirtatious and full of swagger - until Alex shuts him down.

The fallacy of Alex’s rebuke and his dismissal of the feelings behind the kiss are underscored by his refusal to even look Michael in the eye as they talk. Even if he tries to deny them, the truth of his feelings hunts and haunts him because he feels he can never act on his own desires. And in turn when presented with the about face, Michael turns bitter as the push-pull is reinitiated. Michael falls back to the script they’ve been rehashing to save his feelings - ‘puts on a show’ as it were, and Alex falls for it hook, line, and sinker. He is still unwilling or unable to see the truth that lies beneath the surface.

“Isn’t there some law about building on a historical site?”

“A historical - oh you mean because the UFO crashed here? Yeah, we’re not supposed to build on Santa’s workshop either.”

For Michael, who at least to me was obviously hoping things would change this time around, this must feel like a bucket of cold water, especially in the face of Liz Ortecho’s knowledge and seeming easy acceptance of the aliens’ existence. While Max might get his happy ending, Michael is left to keep hiding from the person he loves, never being seen and wondering if Alex’s feelings are even real. 

Two Princes - Spin Doctors (1x02) (Miluca)

In rapid fire we have the next three songs as Michael and Alex spend some time at the Wild Pony. This verse plays under the interaction when Alex comes in the bar and spots Michael.

“Though he got kinda hot. In a ‘sex in a truck, smells like a river, never introduce him to your mama’ kind of way.”

“I hadn’t noticed.”

My boy. My child. My bluntest instrument in the tool kit. Has no one ever told Alex Manes that saying you hadn’t noticed an objectively hot guy is hot is basically code for ‘I haven’t stopped staring at him since I walked in and my brain is not functioning at a high enough level to mask that fact’? Son, please, this is a drunk Wendy’s.

(Also this is huge foreshadowing for Miluca - Michael and Maria don’t have sex *in* a truck but it’s pretty close, we find out later that Michael/the aliens smell like rain, and she tells him he’s not meeting her mother at one point. The angle of this shot is also, for me at least, a hint that Michael is going to become the object of these two ‘princes’ affections, at some point.)

Anyway this is basically poking fun at Alex Manes, repressed disaster, for having no clue what love is and trying to express his affection through like, everything except anything anyone would understand as romantic love. (And we will see this in the flashbacks as well as present day - that Alex mostly uses his station or advantages as a way to show the people he loves he loves them, rather than using words. When he offers Michael the shed, brings him the guitar, uses his military connections to find out about Michel’s mom, hacks into Maria’s computer...listen I got more.) But that isn’t enough, as we’re learning. If only there were some way Alex could also learn that lesson.

And seriously, “This one said he wants to buy you rockets?”

How’s It Going To Be? - Stephen Edwards (1x02)

“Is there really nobody in this world that you wouldn’t risk everything to save? Sad.”

Oh Isobel, if only you knew.

So, aside from returning the kiss Michael initiated at the reunion, Alex has soundly rejected every advance Michael has made for a relationship. Despite that Michael seems to have been harboring some hope that things might be different not that Alex is back more permanently. But now with Isobel bringing into question what he’s willing to sacrifice, I think he might be realizing that toll has been extremely steep already.

(Also truly obsessed with how both Alex and Michael have positioned themselves so that they can casually glance over at each other without arousing suspicion. *Boys*. It’s not that complicated what is this middle school?)

We know that Michael doesn’t like having to keep secrets, and again I have to wonder if he’s regretting not telling Alex he’s an alien, or wondering how that conversation would have gone.

From the previous scenes we can tell something in their relationship is coming to a head - maybe Michael is hoping it’s that he can finally stop keeping secrets from Alex and show Alex who he really is - that Alex will stop misreading him. That Alex will change.

But there is also the expectation that if that happens, Alex will likely leave again. Not just because that’s what Alex’s trauma makes him do, but also because that is how Michael frames all of his relationships. As ‘until you leaves’. He is shown to have a habit of catastrophizing because he doesn’t believe himself to ‘belong’ anywhere(HA) and this is one of those times we’re shown that.

Come With Me - Gold Star (1x02)

“Home can be a person.”

And here we have Alex “thinking about who he was” as Maria closes up the bar. Given where this scene leads with him and Michael, I think the rest of the lyrics to the song are incredibly poignant.

Tell me what were you dreaming? Tell me who were you trying to reach? Gimme something real to believe in Or gimme a reason to leave So i left her standing under shining stars in the Silver moonlight by old Borough Hall - whoever you are

We know that after this evening Alex attempts to rekindle his relationship with Michael, still thinking about who he was, and maybe for the first time trying not to run from what he wants. He’ll be unsuccessful this time, but it’s the first clue that Alex is attempting to break a pattern that has held him in place for ten years.

While he may have been misreading Michael’s stunted growth, we’re starting to see Alex contemplate change in himself. This is the start of Alex’s two season long journey to break out of the fortress he’s built around himself. To ‘put his weapons down’ in an effort to be with Michael.

(She lets her guard down on her way back//to close her eyes and fall asleep - “It was late....I was tired.”)

God of Wine - Third Eye Blind

So clearly the writers were like ‘how can we hurt Milo specifically’ because these lyrics are *so good* as we hear malex talk about the way they view their relationship for the first time in the show.

The music starts just as Michael picks up the old photographs, first of the pod squad, then of himself and Alex playing guitars in the desert. As he packs up the airstream to move it off Foster’s Ranch, Michael is also thinking about the past.

Throughout the series, we’re given a bunch of musical lines about how Michael and Alex can’t go back to what they were, that they have to move forward. And it’s true - as we’ll see over and over again the dynamic they’ve had has been incredibly unhealthy for both of them. But they also cannot avoid the other’s orbit. And when Alex comes to talk to Michael it’s the first time we see him actually decide to initiate - to try and take what he himself wants, rather than waiting or hiding from it. But it is also very much Alex falling back into the ‘madness that holds a truth he can’t erase’ of Michael’s really, very, super, incredibly obvious feelings for him. Our boy is not subtle.

But Alex is still hunted by the past - before we know his history we assume that when Alex references ‘who he was before he went to war’ he means Iraq. But Alex’s war is his father. As much as combat can absolutely be a traumatizing experience, for Alex I never really read that as his main source. As he’ll tell Forrest later - “My PTSD triggers are a little more complicated”.

And so when he tells Michael he’s been thinking about who he was “before he went to war” for me that’s more a callback to who he was before Jesse found the two of them in the toolshed. “When this started.”

As Michael tells him “From where I stand nothing’s changed”  the words “I know, I know, I know” repeat in the background because WE KNOW. We all know, except Alex.

“And that’s a problem for me, Guerin.”

And the siren’s song that is your madness

“Because every time you look at me, I’m seventeen all over again.”

holds a truth I can’t erase

“- and I forget that the last ten years even happened. And then you look away and I remember all over again. And it almost kills me every time.”

All alone on your face

“I never look away. Not really.”

For Michael this is basically confirmation of what he’s been realizing over the last few days - that Alex has been totally misreading him and that yes, Michael, you’re going to have to use your words on this one. 

To which we see Alex’s brain 404-blue-screen for a minute as he realizes what Michael means. Which I personally really appreciate.

And especially since we’ve just learned that a lyric of this song was written on Rosa’s hand the night she died, I can’t believe it’s a coincidence in this being the song that plays underneath this scene - where Alex says he was thinking about who he was before. Everything changed that day for everyone - including Michael and Alex. Michael had gained a terrible secret he couldn’t share, that meant he changed his whole life and started needing to hide and lie and act out, and Alex - not knowing the truth - assumed that it was Michael’s way of trying to push him away and end the relationship. Which leads to the decades long miscommunication of Alex seeing Michael do that over and over again.

For the last ten years, Alex has been seeing Michael as the boy who looks away, then looks back. A Michael whose focus shifts to and away from him and who he sees as wasting his life; directionless and aimless. But as he realizes what Michael is saying he has to recalibrate everything he’s thought their relationship is.

This is possibly the first time Alex has realized that his view of Michael has been wrong. That he really doesn’t know Michael at all.

And we know this interaction has a profound impact on Alex in terms of how he views their relationship. I feel like this is one of those things that becomes a mantra for Alex, later down the line. He repeats it to Michael at Caulfield, and in his song as well, “You never looked away, now I won’t look away” to express his commitment to breaking down the walls he has built up for himself. 

Even though we know the relationship is doomed at this point, it’s the first time a stone falls from the walls Alex has built around himself in a decade.

Here - Chance Peña - 1x03 (Alternate title: “Home”)

Okay I would like to petition to make it illegal to have unreleased songs in episodes, Chance Peña help a bitch out. I had to watch a *fish show* to hear the full lyrics because they’re edited in the show! ( I will also note the next lyric is ‘goodbye, my dear’ which. rude.)

Anyway, we’re given these lyrics as Michael wakes up to seeing Alex has stayed the night. I took the editing, with the previous song choices, to be a reaffirmation of this being something new to Alex, but not necessarily to Michael. Michael knows what he wants from a relationship with Alex - even if he’s put the hope aside from time to time the want is always clear.

For Alex though, a relationship with Michael is something that scares him because of his fear that it can be taken away. (”I just thought that I could be happy, and not be afraid that if I loved anything my dad would destroy it.”) He is trying to make it work - “drawing near” to Michael - but he knows that in order to do that he is going to need to be uncomfortable. To face the fears that have held him back and kept him in comfortable limbo for so long.

I’m also going to flail about how, while RNM has the song listed as ‘Here’, the producer of the other show(Battlefish) identified the song as ‘Home’. I hope I don’t have to yell at y’all, other Roswell New Mexico fans, about how often that word has snuck up on me and knifed me in the back regarding malex. Especially since Alex *is* currently - well, here. With his home. Kill me please it would be kinder.

But then of course we see the old insecurities pop up again as Isobel arrives. Even if he is trying - Alex is nowhere near ready to jump out of the closet yet.

Fast Aint Good Enough - Inkwell Echo (1x06)

I debated adding this one because it’s a little bit reachy, but I thought it was significant in that even when they were seventeen, the thing Alex is ‘afraid of’ is his feelings for Michael - not necessarily of being gay but of what people like Kyle and his father do with information like that.

Wish I’d found the words when we were seventeen-

Kyle asks

“What are you so afraid of?”

-just as Alex catches sight of Michael.

(“I wanted to be the kind of person who won battles. It felt good.”)

Aside from Alex’s general need to protect Michael in any and all situations, I feel like the lyrics of this song - about the singer’s attempt to leave an abusive relationship - underscore that even before the toolshed, Alex was fighting. Even before the toolshed, he has been fighting to this cycle he is trapped in.

While he and Michael build their relationship he starts thinking seriously about leaving and not just surviving but he will ultimately choose to trap himself for years in order to hide his love for Michael.

Like so many gay kids, Alex is fighting a system that deems him guilty of sin - and takes his fighting back as a sign of his guilt. And in order to actually be able to love Michael, he is going to have to figure out how to put down the weapons and the hurt and break the cycle.

First Day Of My Life - Bright Eyes (1x06)

Are they serious right now I swear to god.

So obviously, we’ve got the origins for everything we’re told about Michael and Alex’s lives changing based on their feelings for each other in like two and a half verses of song. Forget the entire second season we have everything we need right here.

“It was the first time I liked our hometown, though.”

-

“Alex made me believe there was a place for me here.”

We know that for both of them this is really a moment of self discovery as much as it is a discovery about each other. 

For Michael in particular, who doesn’t know why he’s here or who he really is, and who previously had no plans besides leaving the planet, this is the moment that he realizes what he wants - to be with Alex.

And for Alex, to me, this moment is a brief glimpse into what his life could be like. We don’t have any confirmation if Michael is his first kiss with a boy or not, but we do know that this moment is significant in that it’s the first that makes Roswell feel like a place he enjoys being.

And as he is realizing that, the lyrics echo it -

But I realized that I need you // And I wondered if I could come home

(Screeching from the background: WOULD YOU COME HOME)

But of course, as the song says, these things take forever because...well....

(It’s because Alex is dumb. My poor dumb emotionally stunted child. Please go to therapy.)

In essence, this is the moment that sets Michael and Alex on their entwined path. The path that Alex will have to fight to get back to - the path Michael will lose faith in before he later starts to regain the hope that it exists. I also like to think about the link between the last lines:

Remember the time you drove all night // Just to meet me in the morning?

and the line from ‘Would You Come Home’

Would you meet me in the middle // Could we both stop keeping score?

I like to think about the parallel here, about meeting people where they’re at, and the love and care and effort it takes to be willing to drive all night to meet someone. Listen a bitch is soft and gay don’t look at me.

You Can’t Love Me - Novi & Tyler Blackburn (1x12)

(*Whispers and rocks back and forth* this is fine it’s all fine)

Once again we have a song whose lyrics give us a tailor made road map to Malex, and will pop up later in ‘Would You Come Home’. We’ve already seen the implosion of the way Michael and Alex have been orbiting each other for a decade, but now that Alex knows the truth, he actually has the ability to understand Michael in ways he hasn’t been able to before. (Something we’ll see later in Season 2 when he talks with Maria.)

And because of that, we see the true beginning of the journey of Michael and Alex back to one another in a healthier way.

But part of that journey is going to be realizing that what they’ve been doing and the way they have loved each other in the past isn’t sustainable - and maybe isn’t even the way they want to love each other.

“They’re my family, Alex!”

“Alright, maybe! But you are mine. I don’t look away, Guerin.”

“No. We’ve been holding onto this thing. And it’s gotten us nowhere. Just let it go.”

Even though the words are said in anger, there is some truth to what Michael says. Their relationship so far hasn’t been a good one. Where Alex is trying to repeat the words that Michael said to him that made such an impact on him, Michael is (well, a, trying to save his dumb boyfriend from getting flambayed) using the opportunity to reveal how little faith he has in their relationship. To say that no, this doesn’t feel like love.

But as much as the song lyrics are about loving someone who isn’t good for you, they’re also about changing and growing, and about a commitment to be better.

(Sound familiar? Brb, I’m gonna go jump off a cliff.)

Love is messy, and especially for Michael and Alex, love has always been something that hurts. “Home is where the hurt is” - and a really important part of their journey is realizing that, and realizing there is a different way of loving each other.

Additionally for Alex, this is when he starts to realize the full extent of his family’s involvement in hunting and hurting Michael’s family. It isn’t just his dad - his entire family line has been involved in this since before Alex was born. And still is. This is really where he starts realizing the roots of the guilt and shame he’s going to have to deal with in order to be anything to Michael - not even a partner but a friend.

This is the first step in that journey. Not just the commitment that yes - I want to build a home for you - but that first, I don’t know, maybe I need to put down these weapons and pick up a different set of tools?

ON TO SEASON TWO