#his childhood was certainly not ideal

[wibbly-wobbly-kylie-wylie-blog]

He’s a 10 but he’s also a demon who has demon tendencies and his true form looks like this:

[bowditch]

every time i see a post talking about how alfred pennyworth failed bruce for not getting him into therapy as a kid i want to scream.

it did not exist. the idea that children could have PTSD was just starting to be discussed in the late 80s/early 90s at the FRINGE of child psychology, and then trauma therapy even for adults spent an unhelpful 2ish decades dominated by forced-conversation talk therapy. that's a thing that is detrimental to trauma recovery, because if someone doesn't feel safe or in control of the dialogue about their trauma and is repeatedly asked to describe their trauma when they're uneasy, it COMPOUNDS TRAUMA AND FEELINGS OF DANGER.

when bruce was a kid, even the best psychs available would have had training that taught them kids bounce back, that kids don't respond to or handle trauma the way adults do, and that any behaviors post-trauma were almost certainly unrelated mental illness.

i see this esp in fandom circles but a gentle reminder that therapy even when it's good doesn't fix everything. even if bruce had HAD access to good childhood PTSD therapy, he would still have grief, he would still potentially be socially awkward or withdrawn, he might have still decided to be Batman because it's a comic book where being a vigilante isn't as wild as it is irl.

therapy requires honesty, readiness, safety, sound application of theory, an accurate picture of life outside the therapy room (self-reporting is often flawed!), consistency, and more! it can help but it doesn't erase trauma or grief. it's dismissive of the history of trauma therapy to say an adult "should have" had a kid in a therapy approach that didn't exist, and it's dismissive of the actual work of therapy to act like therapy would have made everything ideal. bruce isn't going to be a normal, well-adjusted adult because his parents were murdered in front of him. he could be happy! he could have coping skills! but honestly it would be weirder if he didn't wrestle with residual trauma and grief throughout his life.

and maybe this is just because i love Batman, and love specifically Batman as a symbol/figure of hope and sacrifice and the belief that every life matters, but I don't think the worst ending here is Bruce deciding to give up a lot of his time, energy, and health to work in Gotham AND then choose to parent a traumatized child and actively meet his needs. like you think the alternative is that Alfred is a better parent by getting him into non-existent therapy and then he stays comfortably wealthy at home and is just another rich dude? that's the ideal version? the one who can't help Dick Grayson because Dick Grayson wants to run away and murder a man?

anyway tl;dr alfred should have flaws, yes, but there's a big gap between "flawed human parental figure" and "man who massively failed Bruce in multiple ways, one of which was not putting him in therapy."

[nymphea0]

JEREMY VON NEUSCHWANSTEIN .

HEADCANON.

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Hello Anon🦋, thanks for your request, this is my first time getting a request and also my first time making a headcanon.

it took me a while to make a headcanon, because i didn't read this manhwa before, so i read this manhwa and i need to analyze the nature of jeremy's character based on the original story.

this is a good manhwa, a complex depiction in terms of plot and character.

might have some bad grammars, correct me if there are any mistakes in the words in this headcanon I wrote.

i hope you like it Anon🦋 , i'm very sorry, i accidentally deleted your question TvT, hope you forgive me, and enjoy Anon🦋. Love - Neva🦋🦋.

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Manhwa : The Fantasie of a Stepmother/A Stepmother's Fairy Tale / A Stepmother's Märchen .

Author And Illustrasion : Spice&Kitty / ORKA(Art).

Publisher : Kakaopage And Tapas.

*Source Image : Pinterest

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Jeremy Von Neuschwanstein'

● Jeremy, the man is the heir of the  Neuschwanstein family, a wealthy noble family. While you, you are just an ordinary girl who works as a gardener at the Neuscwanstein manor.

●you and Jeremy are childhood friends, you play together and grow up together, until all that changes when his mother dies of illness, Jeremy's attitude is not the same as the jeremy you know, he changes.

●as time goes by you are quite close to his stepmother Shuri Von Neuschwanstein, Shuri is very kind to you, she is gentle and respects you very much even though you are just a gardener.

●In Shuri's eyes, you and Jeremy are an ideal couple, shuri had thought that you and jeremy would get married someday, but that plan was forced to disappear when Duke Heinrich proposed an engagement between Jeremy and his daughter Ohara Von Heinrich.

●From there, your relationship with Jeremy, which was previously not close, changed to being like strangers. In Shuri's first life, she could conclude that Jeremy was willing to let you go for his honor.

● For Shuri, in her first life, Jeremy was very protective and liked to spend time with you compared to his younger siblings. Jeremy laughed and cried only with you. For Shuri, Jeremy in her first life was a figure who was very protective of you, pure love.

● However .... in her second life, Jeremy is different from the one in her first life.

● This Jeremy is more passionate and direct towards you. He doesn't care about his status as a noble when he is with you.

● Initially, Shuri thought that this might be Jeremy's true nature, but unfortunately Shuri was very wrong.

● because the current Jeremy is the Jeremy who is willing to burn the world just for you.

● Jeremy is not good at expressing his feelings through words, so Jeremy expresses his feelings through actions.

● he can kiss you, hug you secretly, even when you are busy taking care of the garden.

● Jeremy, he has had the same recurring dream for 1 year, the dream includes his mother who died right on his wedding day and himself who married a noble girl he didn't know, and not you.

●Jeremy was very angry and upset when he remembered the dream, Therefore with the permission of his stepmother Shuri Von Neuschwanstein, Jeremy asked for permission to marry you, which was answered with Shuri's agreement.

●You certainly think rationally, you reject Jeremy, you reject him by giving a reasonable reason, You are just an ordinary person, and not a noble lady who lives in luxury, but an ordinary person who lives in hardship.

● Jeremy rejected your excuse, 1 time, 2 times, 3 times, and many times Jeremy tried to convince you to marry him, even with the help of Shuri and her younger siblings, Elias, and the twins Leon and Rhacel, but the results were still in vain.

● Until when you decided to leave by quitting your job as a gardener, Jeremy decided to marry you by force. He locked you in his room.

● Shuri and her younger siblings tried to convince Jeremy that what he did was over the line.

● But this was Jeremy Von Neuschwanstein they were facing, a Neuschwanstein lion.

● Shuri and her younger siblings could only hope for the best for your fate with Jeremy.

●During your life with Jeremy, he was an incredibly responsible man, although sometimes he was jealous for no apparent reason, but my dear, Jeremy loves you very much, with Jeremy's life as marquess and you as marchioness

●Your life is like heaven with Jeremy in other noble lady eyes. While they never know what is secret behind Jeremy love for you.

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©️Nymphea0 2024 ,Headcanon.

Please dont steal my work, or use without my permissions , Always be good people Dear. Much love , Neva🦋🦋.

@snowflakes666 @aenishas @elleflying07 @cannyyyyy

[aziraphales-library]

Hello! Thanks for all your hard work, I’ve found so many good fics through here.

Do you have any recommendations for human au fics where Crowley and Aziraphale have known each other for a long time before becoming romantically involved. Could be acquaintances or co-workers or even friends, but looking for a good rec without a real meet cute/strangers-to-lover situation! Thanks so much :)

Hi! We have #friends to lovers and #childhood friends tags which you can check for lots of fics like this. Here are some more to add...

be mine tonight (be mine forever) by artenon (T)

Aziraphale knows he’s a solitary person. He knows Crowley may very well be his only true friend. He doesn’t mind this. He does, however, very much mind learning that his coworkers have a betting pool on whether he’ll be coming alone to the department holiday party next week. He especially minds when he learns that the reason there is a betting pool in the first place is because their intern, young Newton Pulsifer, is the only one naïve enough to believe Aziraphale might have a date. ----- In retaliation to a bet made against him, Aziraphale asks Crowley to be his date to the office holiday party. Certainly there are no flaws to be found in this plan. Certainly the secret love Aziraphale has been harboring for Crowley for the past several years won't be an issue. Certainly not.

Slipping by AppleSeeds (T)

When Aziraphale's friend and colleague Crowley asks him out at their work Christmas party, Aziraphale turns him down, having only ever thought of Crowley as a friend. Months later, Aziraphale's feelings for Crowley have changed, but due to a series of increasingly ridiculous misunderstandings, they both become convinced that the other isn't interested in a romantic relationship. (They're just adorable, oblivious, and pining, that's the whole fic.)

Wanna Bet? by Mimsynims (E)

“What do you mean, ‘you can’t find my name’?” “I’m sorry, sir. We have bookings for all of your colleagues, but your name is missing. Unfortunately that means there’s no room set aside for you.” “Right…” Crowley could guess who had made the ‘mistake’. “But surely there’s another room available? It doesn’t have to be on the same floor as the others’.” He would actually prefer it if it wasn’t.  “I’m afraid not, sir. Due to the conference all of our rooms are booked already.” The young woman on the other side of the counter looked genuinely distressed. “Most hotels within the vicinity are.” Crowley sighed and furrowed his brows. He didn’t even want to be here in the first place, and now he didn’t have a place to sleep? Knowing Gabriel, it would be no use asking to be allowed to go back home.  “Let me check something…” The woman brightened again, a small smile growing on her face. “Yes. It’s not ideal, but it seems that two of your colleagues have been placed in double rooms. Perhaps you or someone else can consider sharing?” Anyone want to guess who he ends up sharing a room with? ;)

On The Side by FeralTuxedo (E)

Aziraphale is far too pure of heart to be anybody’s bit on the side. Or so Crowley thinks. But when his friend starts seeing walking red flag Jim, with his dodgy smiles and mysterious past, Crowley does everything he can to protect Aziraphale from disaster. His own heart might just end up being collateral damage.

i've found a way (a way to make you smile) by curtaincall (T)

Crowley worked in Sales. He had never intended to work in Sales. It had just sort of happened. One moment, there he’d been, a newly minted university graduate off to change the world, exquisitely useless Philosophy degree in hand, and now here he was, having sauntered vaguely downwards into a Hell that consisted mainly of cold-calling new customers and sucking up to existing ones.   AU based on The Office.

Between Comfort And Chaos by anathxmadevice (T)

“And how long have you two been a couple?” “Oh, I—” Aziraphale panics. “Ha, well, that’s a funny… We’re not actually—” “We’re just friends.” Crowley says, their voice clear and calm and lightly amused, either because of or in spite of Aziraphale’s flailing attempts to divert the conversation. “Ah, yes, quite.” Aziraphale says, then takes a sip of his drink just for something to do, instead of focussing on the way Crowley said just friends, and how it causes a painful throb in his chest that he has never fully got used to. His memory can only scrabble at the edge of a time where being just friends with Crowley didn’t feel like a particular form of torture. * Or, Aziraphale has been desperately in love with his best friend and housemate Crowley since they were students, but is too scared to do anything about it.

- Mod D

[cheesus-doodles]

Yan! South and fluff.

Do what you want with it i just need more of this pookie bear that would never hurt anyone🩷

Masterlist | More South fics/asks

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been a hot minute! gentle reminder that my asks are closed at the moment :)

I wouldn’t say South would never hurt anyone…but this boy certainly has a lot of love to give, and there was no one more worthy than you to be the receipient.

With you, South was like a completely different man. Gone was the violent, merciless delinquent he usually is, and left in its place was a kind, loving man who had lost his childhood and was keen to make up, who would never dream of doing you harm. So very careful never to bruise your porcelain skin with his otherworldly strength, you can be sure that even if this boy ever gets mad at you - not that he does, his patience for what he will put up with when it comes to you is almost unlimited unless it's leaving him - South would try everything before resorting to physical means. And for someone as bloodthirsty as him, that is saying a lot.

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We all know how much South loves music at this point - even his entire fighting language revolves around it - and no doubt even though he freely shares his passion with the rest of his gang, happy to sing and give a show when they were keen to listen, South would share his love of music with you in much more intimate ways, away from the prying eyes of the rest of the world.

No doubt his ideal date would be a lot quieter than what anyone would expect from someone that looks like him: just you and him at his place . If South had his way, it would be where you would spend all your time, not just whatever free time you could spare, but alas you kicked up a fuss about missing school and the boy relented. He absolutely loves to play the piano and sing with you seated in his lap; you’re barely a hindrance with his enormous stature, a perfect fit if he would say. Would go out of his way to learn what your favourites songs and tunes are so that he can learn how to play and sing them just for you. Of course he would prefer if you liked the same kind of music that he did, but this boy doesn’t mind either way; music is music, and you are you.

Would even offer to teach you how to play the piano if you want to, and would be so very patient with you while you learnt. He’s happy that you would take the time and put effort into something that brings him so much joy, would spend the entire time with his arms around your waist and his chin on the top of your head.

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Carries you everywhere on his shoulders as if you weighed nothing, because you basically did. Next to him that is. This boy has incredible strength and stamina, and keeping you up and away from the riff-raft of the common people. Not because he dislikes them, but more so because he doesn't trust them around you. You weren’t always with him (yet), and someone could get funny ideas when you were alone.

And it's not like South wouldn't enjoy bringing you out either, why wouldn’t he? Shows you off whenever he gets the chance to in fact. Aside from bringing you to the occasional gang meetings, his top choice would be a live-music bar, preferably blues or jazz, nothing too noisy or jarring. After all, he was here first and foremost to enjoy your company, and he wanted you to be able to enjoy yourself with him as well. No one is going to dare approach the booth with the giant foreign man all but dwarfing you, so you will have to be the one to go up and place the orders for the two of you.

You would be the maybe the only person alive who knew that South had a collection of soft toys by his bed that this boy couldn't sleep without. And you would also be the only person that South would willing to share his collection with you. Most of them are really old and fragile, and even with your He still watches you closely while you handle them, of course, but if you do choose to cuddle with them, this boy can't guarantee that he wouldn't die of happiness.

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Of course it would help greatly if you were a willing party in this entire debacle, that you truly wanted to be with South and that it isn't just South playing out a delusion in his mind. Because in this delinquent's eyes, it has always been a two-way relationship. With how much time stronger this boy is compared to you, he could probably wrangle you into submission without even realizing it, manhandling you whenever he wanted to do something that you weren't keen to do, all the while believing that you wanted nothing more than to be with him.

[yanderes-galore]

Can I please request a yandere alphabet for Dabi from BNHA?

I can try, sure! I just hope I can write Dabi properly like I have in the past—

Yandere Alphabet - Dabi

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Marking/Branding, Blood, Violence, Rough affection, Trauma, Arson/Burning people, Murder, Unhealthy one-sided relationship, Sadism, Stalking, Kidnapping, Isolation, Forced relationship.

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Dabi isn't the best when it comes to love and affection. He never really got it in his childhood and now, with a broken mental state, most likely doesn't have a healthy view on it. To him, loving his obsession may be the same as playing with a toy.

While not incapable of feelings, He certainly doesn't vent them well. His form of love is showing the power he has, of being rough and showing that you have no one but him. It's a mix between wanting you to recognize him and also him wanting to feel in control.

Which usually results in rough kissing, bruising holds, biting, and maybe even burning if it means he gets to keep you to himself.

Safe to say Dabi gets intense as he feels it gets the point across.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Knowing Dabi, messy. He is fully willing to cause carnage towards innocents if it benefits him in some way. If someone was close to you, like family, friends, a lover...

They'll quickly be burned by Dabi if he feels they're in the way of him having you.

He might leave them alone if you distance yourself... but no promises.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

I can see Dabi mocking his obsession to see their reaction. You could be a hero, a civilian, maybe even a villain or something else entirely.... Dabi may just find enjoyment in messing with you.

In terms of how you'd be treated after being abducted... Dabi's "love" is rough. He likes to mark his obsession and break them down. He wants them to be his own personal toy and pet.

In a twisted way, he feels this gives him the attention he craves from you. Forcing it is the method he's found works best.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Definitely. Dabi is a yandere that enjoys control. He likes to manipulate you, scare you, and make you completely reliant on him.

He always gets a say on what you do.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Dabi isn't vulnerable. If he was, it's no doubt during a breakdown, and I feel he'd be more volatile than anything. He likes to feel in control with you.

But who knows, maybe he'll be soft if he's pushed enough. That's a big 'maybe' though.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Amused. For the most part he's just amused since he knows you're weaker than him. He'll toy with you, let you get it all out of your system.

Although, if you get too unruly, he'll remind you who you belong to.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

Yes and he might enjoy it. Normally most yanderes find this distressing or annoying. Dabi, on the other hand, finds amusement in it.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

When it comes to Dabi, there's a few options. But the worst one? Well, that's hard to pick. Dabi would burn people in front of you, he would burn you to brand you...

He tends to like using fire, so I wouldn't be surprised if one day he catches you trying to escape...

Then just decides to give you a burn scar or two to remind you that you're his.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

I don't think he thinks much of the future in general. He prefers just focusing on what's going on in front of him. Currently that happens to be you being his.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Yes and he definitely lashes out. He isn't really one to hide his anger even if he's usually aloof or stoic. One can always tell when he's in a mood.

Not much can quell his anger except you. Even then... You'll need to put in some work if you plan to have some innocents spared from his flames.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Stoic, Aloof, Focused, Crude, Volatile, Manipulative, Possessive, Sadistic, Observing, Controlling... Honestly, it could just keep going on.

There's some small moments where he's merciful which is good.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

He doesn't court in the traditional sense. He probably gets curious, ends up stalking you, and even gets irritated he's so fixated on you. You're distracting... but enjoyable.

He could watch you for months, maybe even manufacture meetings to meet you. Although, after that he'll make his move.

Then you'll be all his, locked away, just for him to toy with.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Not really. He seems to "care" more but it isn't much different.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Burning. He likes to give you burns to show you that you did something wrong by defying him. The alternative is him harming other people if they got on his nerves enough...

But it's all up to you and your behavior, right?

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Similar answer to D, all of them if it means he gets your attention.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

I imagine he has moderate patience. He can be patient, but he has a limit.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

Depends on how attached. Although, I can see him snapping if someone took you away from him. The only way you're leaving him is with help.

He'll burn them before they get too close.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

No and he definitely would not let you go.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Definitely his childhood trauma that decided to morph into a twisted desire for attention.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

He'll either mock you or leave you be. He isn't sure how to deal with this kind of thing properly.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

He still technically cares about you, he just can't properly show it, which leads to your unhealthy relationship. This does not justify his decisions at all, of course.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

I assume getting him distracted by a hero. But good luck with that.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Unfortunately, yes he would.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Not a worship yandere, but since he likes to be controlling, he would go to great lengths to keep you in his grasp.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

Months I feel is accurate. Maybe closer to a year.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

I wouldn't be surprised if he did.

[crimson-and-clover-1717]

‘I’m here, Ed; I’m here.’

Lighthouses are symbolically significant to Stede’s characterisation, and part of that is as a representation of toxic masculinity and patriarchy. One is highlighted during Stede and Mary’s wedding ceremony standing for the ideals of heteronormative marriage which is often steeped in traditional masculine norms. We see a lighthouse also as the setting for Ned Low’s torture. And of course, Ed fails to heed the warning of the lighthouse, cracking upon Stede’s rocks as he returns to a white patriarchal hegemonic society in which Ed cannot follow.

But Stede’s truer characterisation is not so much the lighthouse structure itself, which keeps him trapped in behaviours to which he is not suited and grows to abhor, but the lamp within. He brings light to Ed’s purgatory in season two, both physically with the lantern, and through love, shining into the darkness of Ed’s subconscious.

With all of this in mind, I’m a little obsessed with the lighthouse in Ed’s Kraken recollection. Is the lighthouse part of a true memory, or is something else going on here? I like to think this scene is not only symbolic in its use of Kraken imagery, but also that of the lighthouse.

The lighthouse is certainly a symbol of toxic masculinity here, forming the backdrop for Ed’s stumbling, drunken father. But I also feel the shining lamp represents Stede. Ed is reconstructing the memory as he speaks; and we learn later it’s a fictional recollection insofar as the suggested realism of a literal Kraken is a psychological protection mechanism. Ed’s recreating a version of events he can just about cope with in the retelling. And as Ed tells the story to Stede and the crew, it could be Stede ends up inadvertently and symbolically in the memory as the lighthouse’s lamp.

GIF by captain-flint

We know a motif throughout the show is the subjectivity of memory and storytelling. It could be that a version of Stede is inserted here by Ed’s mind as a comfort. It’s only recently the pair fused their collective imaginations into the lighthouse fuckery, an ingenious moment of skill and playfulness which Ed later says was more fun than he’s had in ages. What if Ed’s best and worst memories begin to collide as his identity enters a state of flux?

It might also reflect the beginnings of Stede shining a light into the dark crevices of Ed’s mind. Helping Ed to begin to explore the unacknowledged parts of himself. Stede, even at this early stage, is starting to have a psychological impact upon Ed. Later, in the bathtub scene, Stede really does reach those hidden corners. Not through force or interrogation, but by simply bringing his bright self to Ed’s side, ready to listen impartially to whatever Ed wants to bring from the shadows, allowing Ed to speak his truth aloud for the first time without fear of judgement.

But, I have another twist on the lighthouse lamp, and it’s an abstract one. Because I love metaphysical readings of this show, such as Chauncey being a partial manifestation of Stede’s mind, or mirrors, which weren’t there before, appearing suddenly on the Revenge alongside Ed.

In this reading, the lighthouse and its lamp do exist as reality within the show’s metaphysical setting, and are part of a true-ish memory. There is a timeless quality to Ed and Stede’s relationship. They’re children currently, unknown to each and unmet. But they already belong one to the other. The universe knows it. Time knows it. Physics knows it.

In his darkest childhood moment, Ed was never truly alone. The lighthouse lamp is Stede, and the future promise of Stede.

[incorrect-hs-quotes]

ROSE: That dream you had is very interesting, Dave.

ROSE: Freud would say it's indicative of intense sexual repression due to dealing with your brother so often, and having little physical freedom.

ROSE: Although Jung would say that it has nothing to do with sex, and simply indicates that you want to be a person with more of a purpose in life.

ROSE: Then Freud would say, "No, that's stupid. Purpose is so vague and hardly means anything about the patient or the dream. The interpretation of the genital fixation makes far more sense."

ROSE: Then Jung would retaliate with, "Not everything is about sex, you idiot! He's a teenager! How much could unconscious sexual desires affect him? And purpose just means that there is a lack of direction in his life. He wants something to do, something to strive for! Shouldn't we try to help him find that purpose instead of just attributing everything to this reductive view of human psychology?"

ROSE: Then Freud would go, "Perhaps you're right. But you can't deny that something is being repressed here. Maybe not sexual desire, but there is certainly a desire for something other than purpose."

ROSE: Then Jung would say, "Not really. What else could it be? Love? That's just an offshoot of sex in your view. I don't get what it could be at all."

ROSE: Freud would nod sternly and say, "Perhaps the patient desires connection. Not necessarily closely tied to purpose, but connection to others in the world is something he needs. That's what the globes in the dream represent. Connection to the world, something other than the living space he is stuck in. That's certainly a major effect of having no mother figure in childhood."

DAVE: rose

ROSE: Jung would sigh and say, "Connection. I see. Maybe that's something we all desire innately. We need to connect to each other and the world in order to understand what we need to do."

ROSE: Freud would take a step towards Jung and reach out a hand, saying, "Jung. We disagree so often that it feels there is no connection in the world. But I know we know each other. We can understand what we mean. If we all desire connection, that includes you and me. Let's try to connect more with each other, okay?"

DAVE: rose

ROSE: Jung would take Freud's hand and pull him close to his face, just inches apart from each other, and softly whisper, "Freud, you know that when I disagree with you, it's more because I envy you. I want to connect with you more, we can satisfy our... deepest desires, as you say... and become the ideal people we want to be if we are closer."

DAVE: ROSE

ROSE: What?

DAVE: shut up

DAVE: i did not sign up for your psychologist fanfiction

DAVE: tell me if im gay or not

[ishaslife]

Love and Deepspace : Is Caleb Evil?

My brain is a mess. I just want to make it clear that everything I say here is my opinion and things I want/wish from the game along with theories and evidence based on previous knowledge of lore and personalities. I also want to add that I hope that the people reading this are going to have prior knowledge of the game, basic lore as well as what happens to caleb. So, spoilers for all of that.

This is just me barfing onto the internet because the trailer and Caleb is all I have been able to focus on for the past few days.

So, I have loved caleb ever since I played the main story nearly a year ago and I really really hoped that he would come back as a love interest and here we are! So, when we first meet Caleb, you know, he comes off as the "protective, trustworthy, older friend to lover" archetype. We have known caleb, as the MC, since we were kids. And clearly, as is in every childhood romance, I assume Caleb has always liked us. He seems very protective over us in the main story too he almost seems scared, like the way he says, "Who's going to protect you if not me?"

Caleb's trailer had me shook, and I mean that. To be quite honest, I did not like it at first. I was so overwhelmed I didn't even know how to process it. I made a whole blog post on his character trailer, please check that out to read further or later on:

Now, the second trailer, for the main story and new patch that is: has him behaving very... Yandere? Idk how to describe it. It's very strange (in a good way) but I think that's how it's meant to be, Caleb IS possessive, and I think even more so than Xavier.

But my point being: do I think Caleb will be evil? No, I don't. I don't think any of the love interests will ever be inherently evil, this is just my take of course. The devs seem to handle relationships in this game with maturity to have a love interest that's absolutely batshit crazy. No main character in this game has come across to me as black and white, they are all morally grey and that's so amazing. Also, they wouldn't introduce Caleb as the protective type to only make him something entirely different.

I think like all the other LIs, Caleb will have his own fatal flaw.

He was a sweet boy, the boy we grew up with and he had dreams of being a pilot and that was a dream he fulfilled but... I'm sure that when Ever found out that this is the path he has chosen in life, he was recruited into the Farspace Fleet to spy on the MC. And that is the moral conundrum here, he is stuck between having to choose. Of course, he wants the MC, he always has but he likely knows the dangers of being basically forced to work for Ever and what will happen if he chooses to quit, not only to himself but also to the MC, a risk that he doesn't wish to take. Ever is is really fucking powerful after all, they could kill him if he isn't useful enough. He's stuck here now, it's like how idealism shatters when you realise how corrupt the system really is.

He's extremely soft in the trailer too and my heart goes out to him really, he seems like he's always suffering or in pain, it's like he's reaching for the MC but he never can because of what he needs to do for Ever.

This isn't here for any reason in particular apart from how fucking soft he looks? His eyes... Omg, just look at how he yearns for her. Also, he seems to have thing for holding her wrist?

Caleb seems like he doesn't want to do this, he says in the trailer, "this nightmare will be over soon," and "I'll make things right" so it's cleary something that takes an emotional toll on him.

Now, I don't think if he will be evil but I certainly think that he's been portrayed as that because he's quite literally working for this world's umbrella corporation and I believe, his whole mean demeanour is a farce, because, well double agent and also the mind control theory I presented earlier. If Caleb is a villain in the Astarion sense, nature vs. nurture. Like how, astarion isn't really a villain, he can be MADE a villain like every other person because of things they have been through, I think Caleb has had to grow some thick skin to deal with shit he's been put through and that makes him come off as mean especially since his conundrum seems to be knowing that he can destroy MC and yet he still wants her, because he loves her. Ugh, my brain is spiraling.

I don't think it'll be a toxic in the slightest. I think yes, he is gonna be very possessive but not so much so that he conflicts MC's personality and nature, also the nature of the game itself. With a game like this, it's difficult to have a LI that's completely evil and black and white because, all their characters are very fleshed out and I don't know why they wouldn't make Caleb so. Caleb's battle also seems to be that he thinks he's decieving MC, that he isn't who she thinks he is and that difficult for him to cope with, like he's been lying to her all their lives and that hurts. He almost sounds angry at the MC in the trailer.

He seems as though he's trying to de-establish (idk if that's a word) the relationship he had with the MC in the past as a brotherly figure and instead establish one where she sees him romantically. Or, he's mad at himself but that is rubbing onto the MC for thinking he's a nice guy, reliable and always expecting him to be the best when he isn't. It's almost as if he's crumbling under the pressure of having to be the best for HER and for her seeing the best in him. I see a guy with deeply ingrained psychological issues, he seems to have a very low opinion of himself and thinks that MC's perception of him is based on a lie.

Not to mention that their reunion is gonna be extremely emotional and likely even explosive on the MC's part because, what the fuck? He just up and left, made us think we're dead and now he's... Well... Just different. There's the whole bite mark on his hand too so I assume the MC got into a huge cat fight with him but he calmed her down?

Either way, no matter what happens; I hope that they'll do his character justice and not ruin him, even if he is made a villain. I have trust enough in the devs to handle their characters with maturity and I can only hope the same with Caleb.

[blindmagdalena]

Do you think Homie had any attachment to Becca? I get that he was just using her as a tool to get closer to Ryan, but in scenes with him in her house he looks really strange to me. Like, he smells her clothes? Demands breakfast? And, if I remember correctly, he suggested on making popcorn and watching a movie after Ryan fell asleep. Just imagine Becca with that thousand yard stare while Homelander puts his arm over her shoulders, bringing her close and rests his head on hers. A husband and a wife, if you will. That man is delusional.

attachment isn't really the right word imo. he most certainly had a vision for her, though. it was his dream come true! a wife and a son with all his EXACT same powers waiting for him in a curated little suburbia, just like they had in all his favorite childhood movies!

it was basically a movie set.

it was perfect.

except it wasn't. because she wasn't his wife. she was butcher's.

and i think the scene you bring up (where he's got her clothes) illustrates that perfectly. he's being a creep in this scene. he's rawdogging her milk jug, he's going through her belongings, he's smelling her clothes. he's building a narrative in his mind where this is his life. getting familiar. getting comfortable.

and then he finds the pictures of her and billy, and the illusion is shattered. he's angry. all of this SHOULD be his, and yet he's having to compete for it!

tbh i think he would have pursued becca a lot harder if stormfront hadn't entered the picture presenting as ideal wife/mother material, sharing her perfect sob story about outliving both her husband and child, and how she needs to fill that void now. wonder where she can find a husband and child. winkwink nudge nudge.

but yeah 100% delusional

[goodqueenaly]

Revisiting Catelyn's chapter, and I've been finding the way that she reflects on her childhood in Riverrun (and while *at* Riverrun, watching over her dying father) rather interesting, in particular her relationship with Brandon. When Jaime speaks to her about his death, and she begins to tell him of how Brandon was on his way to Riverrun when he heard about Lyanna, she notes that "telling it still made her throat grow tight, after all these years." And later, after Jeyne comes to her for advice, we have this passage -- “Tell me what I should do. Catelyn might have asked the same, if her father had been well enough to ask. But Lord Hoster was gone, or near enough. Her Ned as well. Bran and Rickon too, and Mother, and Brandon so long ago. Only Robb remained to her, Robb and the fading hope of her daughters” -- where she counts Brandon as one of the people lost to her, along her mother, and children, and Ned.

What level of depth of feeling, of emotion do you think there was between Brandon and Catelyn during their betrothal (speaking from Catelyn's end of things)? I find these passages a bit curious and they seem to hint to me love, though her POVs also don't quite give us glimpses of any sort of emotional or physical intimacy between them (by physical I mean even something at the level of the kissing games she played with Lysa and Petyr)?

Thank you for taking the time to share your insights with us!

Catelyn was betrothed to Brandon for around five or six years during a significant portion of her young life. As the dutiful daughter of a House whose devotion to duty is literally reflected in its dynastic motto, Catelyn was raised even at 12 to “[thank] him [i.e. her father Hoster] for making her such a splendid match” when this betrothal occurred. While I doubt Catelyn and Brandon met very frequently during their betrothal period, his apparent companionship with Jeffory Mallister may suggest that Brandon traveled in the Riverlands in the years before his death, and consequently spent some time with his fiancée during this time; I doubt Brandon and Catelyn would have been left unchaperoned or allowed to engage in any remotely indecorous conduct, to be sure but these may have been opportunities for the two of them to exchange some courtly pleasantries. Brandon was also personally good-looking, wild in both rage and mirth in a way the young Catelyn clearly found attractive. 

Given all that, I’m not surprised that Catelyn would have developed some level of romantic feelings toward Brandon, and would have held onto those feelings for the rest of her life. Brandon had been her politico-dynastic destiny from the age of 12 until roughly about the age of 17 or 18, a man she had been encouraged to love as her future lord husband. Moreover, to Catelyn, Brandon may have seemed quite the catch - the handsome, dashing young knight or de facto knight, heir to a great castle and title, who dueled in her name for the honor of her hand. With Brandon dying young and tragically from Aerys II’s tyranny, Catelyn never had the chance to become disillusioned with Brandon’s infidelity (and almost certainly never knew of his sexual relationship with Barbrey or his potential bastards), or to have to manage his emotionality day to day; Brandon could remain idealized in Catelyn's mind as her first fiancé and love. 

Which is not to say, of course, that Catelyn never loved Ned. If neither Catelyn nor Ned had been raised to anticipate marrying the other, both understood the politico-military necessity of doing so during Robert’s Rebellion; more importantly, each also came to understand, appreciate, and ultimately love the other on a deeply personal level. Catelyn might have always remembered Brandon, but Ned was "her Ned", her husband, "the man I loved, the father of my children".

[dee-writes-angst]

THE SPRING COURT (Chapter Two)

FEATURING Lucien Vanserra x Reader

SUMMARY A conversation with the High Lady leaves you with a lot to think about, especially the odd tug you feel toward Lucien. It certainly doesn't help when you both set off on your journey and in between the rustle of the changing trees and the calls of the birds around you, you discover a soft side to Lucien that makes you feel warm in a terrifying way.

CONTENT WARNINGS Tamlin, mentions of newborn/baby, talk of fulfilling dreams, themes of deep sadness/loneliness, TAMLIN, arguments/fighting, angst, closed off Lucien, Elain getting shit on by tam tam, Lucien being worried about tam tam, and themes of friendships falling out

AUTHORS NOTE yes, I do recall promising you all an update on the save a hero series, and yes, I am posting a FAT chapter to courts instead :) <3

SERIES MASTERLIST

After leaving the study, the High Lady led you through a labyrinth of grand hallways and winding corridors, each more elegant than the last. The air smelled faintly of oak and candle wax, carrying the gentle hum of servants and maids going about their nightly duties. She greeted them with warm, familiar smiles, a stark contrast to the authority she commanded during the coronation. You found it fascinating how easily she seemed to balance both roles—the ruler and the caretaker. 

As you continued down the hall, you noticed a shift in the surroundings. Stacks of wooden crates lined the walls, filled with what looked like old nursery furniture—small beds, rocking chairs, faded toys. There was a faint scent of dust, like the memory of long-untouched rooms now being awakened. 

“This used to be the nursery wing,” the High Lady explained, catching your gaze as you took in the scattered pieces of history. “Where all of Eris’s brothers once lived.” 

There was something sharp in her tone, a bitterness that cut through her usual grace. The mention of Beron’s children seemed to summon a shadow across her face. “Beron liked to keep his children at a distance,” she continued, her voice low, though there was an edge to it that you couldn’t quite place. “He believed in separation, even among family.” Her lips pressed into a thin line, a harshness settling in her eyes that told you more than her words ever could. 

Eris, with his new reign, clearly did not share his father’s cold ideals. “Eris and I don’t agree with those values. We’ve decided to move the children’s rooms next to our wing, closer to us, where they belong.” She glanced around the hallway with an air of finality. “This is becoming a guest wing. Unfortunately, it’s still being renovated, and the only room that hasn’t been touched yet is Lucien’s childhood bedroom. That’s where you’ll stay tonight.” 

Her hand rested briefly on a door with a simple gold handle. The frame was worn, showing its age, with faint markings of painted foxes still visible along the chipped wood. Despite the years of wear, you could imagine how bright and full of life those foxes had once been, just as the room behind the door must have been when Lucien called it home. 

With a gentle push, the High Lady opened the door, and you stepped inside. 

The room you stepped into was a masterpiece of elegance and warmth, a sanctuary carved from the very soul of the Autumn Court. It stretched out before you like a quiet dream, far more expansive than any space you had ever known. The high, vaulted ceilings soared above, giving the room a sense of grandeur, as if it had been crafted to mimic the boundless canopy of the forest outside. 

Rich, chocolate-colored wainscoting lined the walls, gleaming softly in the amber light that spilled from the ornate chandelier overhead. The wood was polished to a mirror-like sheen, its surface catching and reflecting the glow in a way that seemed to invite you deeper into its embrace. Above the wainscoting, the walls were painted in a deep, velvety forest green, the color so lush it seemed to pulse with life. It was the kind of green that spoke of old growth and whispered secrets, a color that held the wild, untamed beauty of the forest at its heart. 

And then, there were the foxes. 

Along the upper edge of the walls, just beneath the ceiling’s crown molding, a series of exquisitely painted foxes danced and played, as though the very essence of the forest had been brought to life within these walls. Their russet fur gleamed with vibrant reds and golds, their bodies caught mid-motion, forever racing through painted fields and under the shelter of painted trees. Some foxes curled in peaceful repose among the foliage, while others leapt with wild joy, their eyes sparkling with untold mischief. The artwork was so vivid, so full of life, that you half-expected one of them to break free from the walls and dart across the floor, disappearing into the shadowed corners of the room. 

At the heart of the room stood a grand four-poster bed, carved from dark mahogany that gleamed with the same deep richness as the wainscoting. The posts were thick and sturdy, their surfaces adorned with intricate vines and delicate leaves that wound their way up to the canopy. The bed itself was a haven of luxury, draped in sumptuous layers of crimson and gold, the colors of autumn leaves set aflame. The blankets were plush, the pillows impossibly soft, and it beckoned you with the promise of rest—a retreat from the whirlwind of change swirling around you. 

To one side, a large stone fireplace sat nestled into the wall, its hearth cold for the moment, but the scent of kindling and wood hung in the air, ready to be lit. The mantle above the fireplace held a painting, a stunning landscape of the Autumn Court’s forest at twilight, the trees ablaze with the fiery hues of fall. The light in the painting seemed to shimmer and shift as you moved, as if the leaves were swaying gently in the breeze. It was a perfect mirror of the world beyond the walls—a world both familiar and distant. 

Your gaze shifted to the tall, arched window on the opposite side of the room. Heavy velvet curtains, the same deep green as the walls, were drawn back to reveal the moonlit forest outside. Silvery light filtered through the glass, casting a soft glow over the room and illuminating the vast expanse of trees beyond. The forest stretched endlessly, its leaves shimmering under the light of the moon, and you could almost hear the soft rustle of the branches, as if the forest itself was whispering to you. It was a view that reminded you how small you were in the grand scheme of things, and yet, how vast the world was—waiting, calling. 

Every detail in the room had been chosen with care. From the rich textures and colors that enveloped the space to the faint scent of cedar and pine that clung to the air, it was clear this room had been designed to offer both comfort and reflection. It was as if the room wanted to remind you of the beauty of the Autumn Court, even as it offered a glimpse of something more—something beyond. 

Yet, as your eyes drifted over the space, there was a sense of dissonance. For all its beauty, this room was not yours, not truly. It belonged to the world you were about to leave behind, a world you could never fully claim as your own. 

“Eris told me the foxes were added by their mother when she was pregnant with Lucien,” the High Lady’s voice drifted softly from behind you, breaking the silence as she noted how your gaze lingered on the intricate artwork. There was a tender note in her tone, one that softened even further at the mention of Lucien. “Lucien apparently spent hours watching them, imagining they were real—so real, in fact, that he believed they might leap off the walls and disappear into the forest beyond.” 

You could almost picture it: a small boy, wild with imagination, his copper hair catching the sunlight as he watched the foxes with wide, wondering eyes, convinced that the painted creatures might slip through some hidden doorway into the woods. 

“Eris said they had to keep a close eye on him when they played in the courtyard, or else Lucien would wander off into the trees, searching for the animals that lived both on his walls and in his dreams,” the High Lady continued, her lips curving slightly at the memory. “My husband finds it odd that Lucien connects so deeply with the foxes. But I—” she paused, as if tasting the words on her tongue, considering them carefully before continuing, “I can see why. Even knowing him as little as I do, I understand why he feels that call. He moves like them, don’t you think? Sly, quick, with that mask always in place... hiding the suffering underneath.” 

Her eyes followed the painted foxes along the walls, her expression distant, as though she was sifting through memories from long ago. There was a glimmer of something—perhaps regret, or nostalgia—that flickered across her face, a sheen of remembrance in her gaze as she tracked the foxes, each one captured mid-dash, as if frozen in the moment before they might spring to life. 

“He was a good friend to me once,” she murmured, her voice soft and thoughtful, almost as if she were speaking more to herself than to you. “But even then, when we were closest, I never really knew much about him. That’s how Lucien is... funny, in a way. He has this gift for making people feel at ease, like you’ve known him all your life. You fall into this sense of comfort, trusting him as if he’s an old friend, and before you know it, you’ve told him everything about yourself.” She chuckled lightly, but there was a hint of sadness beneath it. “And only after you’ve left do you realize—you never learned a thing about him in return.” 

She turned her gaze back to you, the warmth in her eyes shadowed by something deeper, a quiet understanding of Lucien’s guarded nature. You could hear it in the way she spoke of him—like someone who had tried to reach him, had once thought they were close, only to find that Lucien had always kept himself just out of reach. 

As you stood there, the weight of her words settled over you. The painted foxes seemed more than just childhood decorations now—they were symbols of something elusive, something that danced just beyond your grasp, much like Lucien himself. 

"I apologize for my nonsensical rambling," she chuckled softly, shaking herself from her reverie, as ifam the memories had momentarily swept her away. There was a faint blush of embarrassment on her cheeks, though her smile remained warm. "It seems, with the coronation and everything, I've fallen prey to nostalgia." 

Her laughter was light, but you could sense the weight of the evening on her shoulders—the emotions of the past and present all tangled up in the swirl of change. As she composed herself, the air shifted, and for a brief moment, you saw her not just as a ruler, but as someone who had lived through her own struggles, her own losses, much like the man she’d just described. 

"I'll let you get some rest," the High Lady said warmly, her smile soft as she made her way back to the door. She hesitated for a moment, her hand resting lightly on the gold handle before turning to face you once more. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you said yes to joining Lucien. I know you haven’t had much time to get to know me, and that all of this—" she gestured vaguely to the room and the whirlwind of events surrounding you, "—might feel overwhelming, maybe even a bit random. But when we spoke earlier, and you shared your dream of traveling, I saw something in your eyes.” 

Her gaze softened further, as if recalling that moment between you in the ballroom. “There was a fire in you, a passion so strong it almost sparked something in me. Call me crazy, but I’ve never trusted someone so completely at a first meeting. It was bizarre, how quickly you enraptured me, how I was drawn into your dream as if it were my own.” 

Her voice lowered, more intimate now, as if revealing something she had not shared with many. “I’m lucky to be able to provide you the means to chase that dream. And I hope that if—when—you return, you’ll come find me, so that we might become true friends.” 

The words felt genuine, but there was something else in her eyes—something left unspoken. As if, beneath her gratitude and warmth, there was another hope. A hope that the fire she had seen dancing in your eyes might somehow reignite another’s—a fire that she had once thought to be unquenchable. Her expression flickered with the briefest shadow of regret, a reminder of someone she had once considered a close friend, only to discover that his struggles had been kept hidden behind his ever-present mask. Lucien. 

She didn’t say it aloud, but it hung in the air between you, unspoken but palpable. The High Lady, it seemed, wasn’t just offering you an opportunity for your sake. She was hoping, perhaps, that through your own passion, you might help rekindle a spark in someone who had all but let his light go out. A friend she had tried to reach, but had never truly been able to know. 

Her eyes lingered on yours for a moment longer, before she gave a final, quiet smile. Then, with a gentle click of the door, she left you alone with your thoughts. 

Sunlight filtered through the heavy velvet curtains, casting a golden glow across the room. You stirred beneath the layers of plush blankets, the softness cradling you in a warmth that felt almost foreign. For a moment, you lay there, caught between the remnants of sleep and the encroaching reality of the day ahead. The events of the previous evening replayed in your mind—the High Lady’s words, the room’s quiet grandeur, the lingering presence of Lucien, even in his absence. 

As your eyes fluttered open, you found yourself staring at the ceiling, where the painted foxes still danced and played, their russet fur gleaming in the morning light. The sight filled you with a strange mix of emotions—comfort, curiosity, and an unsettling sense of displacement. This room, so full of history and warmth, was not yours. It was a space imbued with the life of someone else, someone you barely knew but felt inexplicably drawn to. 

What is it about this place? you wondered, your thoughts trailing off as you pushed yourself up onto your elbows. The bed was large enough that you felt small within it, almost as though it was swallowing you whole. The High Lady’s voice echoed in your mind, her words about Lucien replaying like a haunting melody. He moves like them… sly, quick, with that mask always in place. The comparison resonated deeply, pulling at something inside you—a desire to uncover what lay behind that mask, to understand the man who had lived his childhood surrounded by these painted foxes. 

As you swung your legs over the edge of the bed, your feet sinking into the thick, plush rug below, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of anxiety. Today, you would be stepping into the unknown, into a life that was not yet fully yours. The High Lady had been kind, her words full of warmth and hope, but there was an unspoken weight to her expectations. You had agreed to join Lucien, to help him in some capacity you still didn’t fully understand, and that decision now loomed over you, its consequences unfurling like the morning light creeping across the floor. 

What have I gotten myself into? The thought was both thrilling and terrifying. You had always longed for adventure, for a life beyond the confines of your previous existence, but now that it was within your grasp, doubt began to creep in. The room, with its rich textures and warm colors, suddenly felt like a gilded cage—beautiful, yes, but confining in its own way. The painted forest, the foxes, the lavish bed—it all seemed to be watching you, waiting for you to make your move. 

You rose slowly, your body still heavy with sleep, and made your way to the window. The curtains were partially drawn, allowing a sliver of sunlight to illuminate the room. As you pulled them back, the full splendor of the Autumn Court’s forest came into view. The trees, bathed in the early morning light, shimmered with the fiery hues of fall, their leaves rustling in the gentle breeze. The sight was breathtaking, and for a moment, you forgot your worries, lost in the beauty of the world beyond the glass. 

This is what I wanted, you reminded yourself, inhaling deeply as the scent of cedar and pine wafted in from the forest. A chance to see the world, to live a life of meaning. But even as you tried to reassure yourself, the unease remained. There was so much you didn’t know, so much left to discover—not just about this place, but about Lucien, and perhaps even yourself. 

Your thoughts drifted back to the High Lady’s words, her unspoken hope that you might rekindle something in Lucien that had been lost. It felt like an impossible task, one you weren’t sure you were ready for. And yet, there was a part of you that was drawn to the challenge, that wanted to prove—to yourself, to the High Lady, maybe even to Lucien—that you were capable of more than you had ever imagined. 

Today is the beginning, you thought, your resolve hardening as you turned away from the window. The doubts and fears would not vanish easily, but you couldn’t afford to let them hold you back. There was a world out there, waiting to be explored, and a journey you had only just begun. And as you dressed, each movement deliberate and purposeful, you made a silent promise to yourself—to see this through, to face whatever lay ahead, no matter how uncertain or difficult it might be. 

With a final glance at the room, you stepped toward the door, ready to meet whatever awaited you on the other side. 

After what felt like an eternity of winding corridors and endless hallways, you finally arrived at the entry room, but not without some help. The morning had begun with a sense of purpose, but that quickly dissolved into confusion as you attempted to navigate the sprawling estate. You had passed the same set of ornate vases twice before you finally conceded defeat and stopped one of the maids, asking for directions to the entry room. Her polite smile, laced with amusement, did little to ease your embarrassment, but she kindly guided you to your destination, chatting about the daily bustle of the household along the way. 

Now, as you stood in the entry room, your breath caught at the sight before you. The space was grand, with high ceilings adorned with intricate carvings of autumn leaves and forest animals. The walls were lined with dark wood paneling, giving the room a cozy yet regal feel. Sunlight streamed in through the tall windows, casting a warm glow over everything. 

And there, waiting with a bright smile and a baby perched on her hip, was the High Lady. She looked every bit the ruler and mother, her eyes sparkling with warmth as she spotted you. The little one on her hip babbled happily, clutching at her mother’s dress with tiny, chubby fingers, clearly enjoying the morning excitement. 

“Good morning!” the High Lady greeted you, her voice full of genuine warmth. She adjusted the baby on her hip, pressing a kiss to the top of the little one’s head before looking back at you. “I hope you found your way here without too much trouble?” 

You chuckled softly, feeling the tension ease from your shoulders. “Not without a few wrong turns,” you admitted, glancing around the room. “But your staff is very helpful.” 

She laughed, a sound like soft bells. “This house is like a maze, isn’t it? Even I still get turned around sometimes, and I’ve lived here for a few years now.” The baby cooed in response, as if adding her agreement, and the High Lady smiled down at her daughter before turning her attention back to you. “I’m so glad you’re here, though. Lucien will be joining us shortly.” 

As if on cue, Lucien appeared from an adjacent hallway, his presence as commanding as ever. He was dressed simply, in riding gear that emphasized his lithe, athletic frame. His auburn hair caught the light, giving him an almost otherworldly glow, and his russet eye met yours with a brief flicker of warmth before his gaze shifted to the High Lady and her child. 

“Good morning,” Lucien greeted, his tone polite but reserved. He offered a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes, though there was no mistaking the genuine affection when he looked at the High Lady and the baby. “Ready for the journey?” 

“Almost,” the High Lady replied, shifting the baby to her other hip. “I wanted to see you both off, but I’m afraid Eris won’t be able to join us. He’s been caught up in a meeting with his advisors, going over some new community improvement plans. He sends his apologies.” 

You nodded, feeling a pang of disappointment, though you quickly pushed it aside. The High Lord’s absence was understandable, and the High Lady’s presence was more than enough to set you at ease. The baby, who had been contentedly babbling, suddenly reached out toward Lucien, her tiny hands grasping at the air. 

Lucien’s expression softened, though his eyes held a unique sort of pain as he stepped closer, allowing the little girl to grab onto his fingers. “Someone’s in a good mood this morning,” he murmured, his voice low and affectionate. The baby giggled, her eyes sparkling with joy as she tugged on his fingers, clearly delighted by the attention. 

The sight of Lucien with the baby on his arm was endearing in a way that caught you off guard. For a moment, the reserved, guarded man you’d met seemed to melt away, replaced by someone far more gentle, someone who might have been a doting father in another life. 

The High Lady watched the interaction with a soft smile, then turned back to you. “Shall we head outside? Your horses are ready, and I don’t want to keep you waiting any longer.” 

With a final kiss to her daughter’s head, she led the way outside, Lucien falling into step beside you. As you walked through the grand double doors and onto the cobblestone path that led to the courtyard, the crisp morning air greeted you, carrying the scent of pine and earth. The courtyard was a picturesque scene, with leaves fluttering down from the trees and the sunlight filtering through the branches. Two horses stood saddled and waiting, their coats sleek and shining in the morning light. 

The High Lady turned to you with a smile, her daughter now babbling happily on her hip. “I hope you’re as excited as I am for this journey,” she said warmly, her eyes twinkling with the same energy you’d seen the night before. “It’s a wonderful opportunity, and I’m sure you and Lucien will make a great team.” 

You smiled back, though your excitement was tempered by a small knot of anxiety that tightened in your stomach as you eyed the horses. You had never ridden a horse before, and the thought of it now, with all eyes on you, made your heart race. You swallowed nervously, trying to steady your breathing. 

The High Lady must have noticed your hesitation, because she tilted her head slightly, a gentle, knowing look in her eyes. “Are you all right?” 

You hesitated, then nodded. “I’ve… never ridden a horse before,” you confessed, your voice quieter than you intended. It felt almost foolish to admit, especially in front of Lucien, who seemed so at ease in every situation. 

Lucien turned to you, his expression softening with understanding. “It’s nothing to worry about,” he said gently. “We’ll take it slow. I’ll help you.” 

The High Lady smiled reassuringly. “Lucien is an excellent rider. You’ll be in good hands.” She shifted the baby on her hip, the little girl squealing happily as if in agreement. “You’ve got this,” she added with an encouraging nod. 

With that, she handed her daughter off to a waiting maid, then turned back to you. “Thank you again for joining us,” she said softly, her voice full of warmth and sincerity. “Take care of each other out there and know that our doors will always be open to you.” She reached out to give you a quick, friendly hug, her embrace brief but comforting. 

You returned the hug, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over you. “Thank you for everything,” you replied, your voice steady as you pulled back and offered her a small smile. 

Lucien stepped forward then, taking the reins of your horse. “Come on,” he said, his tone gentle but firm. “I’ll help you up.” 

You approached the horse, trying to mask your nervousness as you looked up at the imposing creature. Lucien’s strong hands were there almost immediately, steady and sure, as he placed them on your hips. His touch was warm and surprisingly reassuring, and as he guided you onto the saddle, you found yourself relaxing, if only slightly. 

“Just keep your legs steady and hold onto the reins,” Lucien instructed, his voice calm and encouraging. “I’ll lead you until you’re comfortable.” 

You nodded, gripping the reins tightly, your heart pounding in your chest as you settled into the saddle. Lucien gave you a final, reassuring smile before he moved to mount his own horse with practiced ease. Once he was settled, he took your reins in hand, his touch steady as he turned to the High Lady. 

“Take care, both of you,” she called out, her voice bright with affection as she waved to you. “We’ll be waiting for your return.” 

With a nod, Lucien urged his horse forward, and you felt your own mount move beneath you, following his lead. The sensation was strange at first, the rhythmic sway of the horse’s gait unfamiliar, but Lucien’s calm presence kept you grounded. You clutched the reins tightly, your knuckles white, but with each step, the initial terror began to ebb away, replaced by a tentative sense of trust—in Lucien, in the horse, and in yourself. 

As the two of you rode out of the courtyard and into the forest, the High Lady’s figure grew smaller in the distance, her baby’s babbling fading into the morning air. You took a deep breath, the fresh scent of pine filling your lungs, and as the trees closed in around you, you felt the weight of your journey ahead—both the excitement and the unknown. 

Lucien glanced back at you, his eyes catching yours for a brief moment. “You’re doing great,” he said, a note of approval in his voice. And somehow, despite everything, you believed him. 

The path through the forest was peaceful, the silence broken only by the soft rustling of leaves and the steady clop of hooves against the earth. You kept your eyes on the path ahead, trying to focus on the rhythm of your horse’s movements rather than the lingering nervousness in your chest. But as the initial trepidation began to fade, it was slowly replaced by a sense of awe. 

The Autumn Court’s forests were breathtaking, especially in the morning light. The trees towered above you, their leaves a tapestry of red, gold, and orange, some drifting lazily to the ground in a gentle dance. The air was crisp and cool, carrying the earthy scent of fallen leaves and moss. You had always admired the beauty of your homeland, but there was something different about experiencing it from the back of a horse, the world passing by at a pace that allowed you to truly take it all in. 

Every so often, Lucien would glance back at you, his russet eye assessing, as if ensuring you were still comfortable. Each time, you managed a smile, the excitement bubbling up within you outweighing any lingering nerves. 

“How are you holding up?” he asked after a while, his voice cutting through the quiet. 

“I’m… doing okay,” you replied, a hint of surprise in your own voice. It was true—once you adjusted to the sway of the horse and the rhythm of the journey, it wasn’t as frightening as you’d first imagined. In fact, it was almost exhilarating. “This is all so new to me.” 

He nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I remember my first time leaving the Autumn Court,” he said, his tone a touch nostalgic. “The world seemed so much larger, more vibrant. Every new sight and sound was an adventure.” 

You felt a spark of connection at his words, your own excitement mirrored in his memory. “I’ve always dreamed of seeing more of the world,” you admitted, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “There’s so much out there, so much to explore… But now that I’m actually doing it, I’m realizing how little I know.” 

Lucien’s smile grew, this time more genuine, and he slowed his horse slightly so that you could ride side by side. “That’s part of the adventure,” he said, his voice carrying a note of encouragement. “Not knowing what’s around the next corner, but finding the courage to face it anyway. You’re doing that now, aren’t you?” 

His words settled something within you, a reassurance that you hadn’t realized you needed. You nodded, a small but determined smile on your lips. “I suppose I am.” 

The journey continued, the forest gradually thinning as the path wound its way out of the heart of the Autumn Court. The scenery began to change subtly, the rich hues of autumn slowly giving way to the softer, more muted colors of the borderlands. The trees here were less dense, their leaves a mix of green and yellow, with patches of wildflowers dotting the underbrush. 

You marveled at the shift, your eyes wide as you took in every detail. “It’s amazing how quickly everything changes,” you murmured, more to yourself than to Lucien. 

He heard you anyway and nodded. “The courts are like that. Each one has its own character, its own rhythm. You’ll notice it even more as we get closer to the Spring Court.” 

Your heart quickened at the thought, a mixture of excitement and nervousness flooding your chest. You had heard stories of the Spring Court, of its rolling hills and blooming meadows, but to see it for yourself—well, that was a different matter entirely. 

As you rode, Lucien began to share stories of his travels, tales of the courts he had visited, the lands he had seen. His voice was steady, calm, with just a hint of fondness for the memories he recounted. He spoke of the Night Court’s starry skies, the Summer Court’s golden beaches, and even the Winter Court’s icy beauty. You listened intently, hanging on to every word, your imagination painting vivid pictures of places you had only ever dreamed of. 

“What about the Spring Court?” you asked eagerly, your curiosity piqued as the landscape continued to shift around you. “What’s it like there?” 

Lucien’s expression softened, a hint of something almost wistful in his gaze. “The Spring Court is… alive,” he said after a moment, searching for the right words. “It’s all about renewal, growth. Everywhere you look, there’s something blooming, something green and vibrant. It’s a place where everything feels fresh, like the world is waking up after a long sleep.” 

The way he described it made your heart ache with anticipation. The idea of such a place—a world so full of life and color—was almost too much to believe. You found yourself leaning forward slightly in the saddle, eager to catch the first glimpse of this new land. 

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, the borderlands gave way to rolling hills, and the forest thinned even more. The ground beneath the horses’ hooves grew softer, the earth rich and loamy, and the air took on a fresh, sweet scent. You could sense the change coming, your excitement mounting with every step. 

And then, finally, you crossed the border into the Spring Court. 

The transition was almost imperceptible at first, just a gradual softening of the landscape. But then the world seemed to explode with color. The trees here were different, their leaves a lush, vibrant green, with blossoms of every hue peeking out from between the branches. Wildflowers carpeted the ground, their petals a riot of pinks, purples, and yellows, and the air was filled with the gentle hum of bees and the sweet trill of birdsong. 

You inhaled deeply, the scent of fresh blooms and damp earth filling your lungs. It was as if the entire world had come alive, every sense tingling with the sheer abundance of life around you. 

“This is incredible,” you breathed, unable to keep the awe from your voice. You turned to Lucien, your eyes wide with wonder. “I’ve never seen anything like this.” 

Lucien’s gaze softened as he watched you, a small smile playing on his lips. “It’s something, isn’t it?” he agreed, his voice warm. “The Spring Court is unique in that way. It’s… comforting, in its own way.” 

You nodded, unable to tear your eyes away from the landscape as you continued to ride. Everywhere you looked, there was something new to marvel at—a babbling brook winding its way through a field of wildflowers, a pair of deer grazing in the distance, their coats dappled with sunlight. It was almost too much to take in all at once, but you didn’t mind. This was what you had always dreamed of—discovering new places, seeing the world beyond the Autumn Court. 

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows over the vibrant landscape of the Spring Court, the mood between you and Lucien began to shift. The closer you got to Tamlin’s manor, the more the warmth that had marked your earlier journey seemed to drain from Lucien. His previously relaxed posture stiffened, and his jaw set in a hard line, the cheerful tone of his earlier stories giving way to terse, monosyllabic responses. 

You couldn’t help but notice the change. Where before he had been engaging, almost amiable, now he was quiet, brooding. It was as if the very air around him had grown colder, darker, as if the beautiful scenery you were passing through no longer held any joy for him. The Spring Court’s rolling hills and lush greenery, which had filled you with wonder, seemed to be nothing more than a reminder of something painful to him. 

Your earlier excitement began to dim, replaced by a creeping sense of unease. You had caught glimpses of this side of Lucien before—the guarded, distant mask he wore when he spoke of certain topics—but never had it been so pronounced. It was as if the closer you got to Tamlin’s manor, the more he retreated into himself, shutting you out completely. 

The manor came into view just as the sun touched the horizon, its golden light casting the grand building in a warm, almost ethereal glow. Tamlin’s manor was a masterpiece of architecture, with ivy-clad walls, towering spires, and large, arched windows that reflected the fading light like molten gold. Yet, despite its beauty, the sight of it only seemed to deepen the shadows in Lucien’s eyes. 

He dismounted his horse with a swiftness that startled you, his movements sharp and almost mechanical. When he turned to help you down, his touch was no longer gentle, but brisk and impersonal, his gaze avoiding yours. The connection you had begun to feel with him on the journey seemed to evaporate, replaced by a wall of cold indifference that left you feeling more alone than ever. 

A maid was already waiting for you at the entrance of the manor, her apron pristine, her hands clasped neatly in front of her. She was a slender woman with a kind face, her eyes sharp and discerning as she took in the sight of you and Lucien. 

“Welcome,” she said warmly, her voice a stark contrast to the chill that had settled over your companion. “I’m Alice, the head maid here. I’ll be taking care of you during your stay.” 

You forced a smile, grateful for her kindness even as you struggled with the tension that had descended on your little party. “Thank you, Alice. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

Alice’s gaze flicked to Lucien, her smile fading slightly as she took in his dark expression. “Tamlin is unlikely to show while you’re here,” she informed him, her tone gentler now, almost apologetic. “He’s… otherwise occupied.” 

Lucien’s only response was a curt nod, his face a mask of indifference. The warmth you had glimpsed in him during your journey was completely gone, replaced by something cold and unyielding. It was as if the man who had shared stories with you, who had encouraged you and made you feel safe, had vanished entirely, leaving behind only a hollow shell. 

As Alice led you both inside, Lucien’s familiarity with the manor became immediately apparent. His steps were sure, unhesitating, as if he knew every twist and turn of the grand corridors. He moved through the manor with a practiced ease, his eyes never lingering on the ornate decorations or the large portraits that lined the walls—things that might have captured your attention, but which seemed to hold no interest for him. 

He guided you down a series of hallways with the confidence of someone who had once called this place home. The silence between you only heightened the sense of tension, each step echoing in the vast, empty space. You could sense the memories that clung to the walls of this manor for him, and while he didn’t speak of them, you could see them in the way his shoulders tensed, in the tightness of his jaw. 

Finally, Alice stopped in front of a set of large, intricately carved doors. “These will be your rooms,” she said, turning to you with a kind smile. “Dinner will be served in an hour, but if you prefer, I can have something brought to your room.” 

You thanked her, but your attention was still on Lucien, who had retreated so far into himself that he seemed like a different person entirely. There was a fleeting moment where he glanced at the door to your room, recognition flickering in his eyes, as if the memories of the time he had spent here threatened to overwhelm him. But just as quickly as the emotion appeared, it vanished, his face hardening into the mask you had come to dread. 

“Lucien…” you began, unsure of what to say, but desperate to reach him somehow. 

He didn’t look at you, his eyes fixed on the door in front of him. “Rest,” he said curtly. “We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.” 

With that, he turned and walked away, his steps just as sure as before, taking him deeper into the manor that had once been his home. You watched him go, a heavy feeling settling in your chest. The man who had guided you here with such care and patience was gone, replaced by someone cold and distant. You could only hope that, in time, he would come back to you, and that you could find a way to break through the darkness that had settled over him. 

As you entered your room and closed the door behind you, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of what lay ahead. This journey, which had started with such promise, was beginning to reveal the shadows that lurked just beneath the surface. And you knew that if you were to succeed, you would need to find a way to navigate not just the courts, but the complex emotions that came with them. 

With a sigh, you settled into the plush bed, the softness of the linens a stark contrast to the tension that had wrapped itself around your heart. 

The manor was quiet, the kind of deep silence that only comes in the dead of night, when even the wind seems to hold its breath. You had been sleeping fitfully, your mind still lingering on the events of the day, but something stirred you from your uneasy rest. It was faint at first, just the muffled sound of voices carrying through the thick walls of the manor. 

You sat up, your heart thudding in your chest as you strained to listen. The voices were coming from somewhere close, just beyond your room. One of them was unmistakably Lucien’s, the low timbre of his voice rising and falling with emotion. The other voice, sharp and biting, belonged to someone you hadn’t met but could easily identify—Tamlin, the High Lord of the Spring Court. 

Curiosity and concern gnawed at you, pulling you from the comfort of the bed. You slipped quietly out of the sheets, your bare feet padding softly across the cold floor as you moved closer to the door. Pressing your ear to the wooden surface, you caught the tail end of their conversation. 

“…can’t keep doing this, Tamlin,” Lucien was saying, his voice tight with frustration. “You need to let go—holding onto this anger, this guilt, it’s tearing you apart.” 

A pause, then Tamlin’s voice, laced with bitterness. “What do you know of guilt, Lucien? You who left this court without a second thought, who turned your back on your home, on your people. Don’t lecture me on how to live with the choices I’ve made.” 

Lucien’s response was firm, but there was an edge of hurt in it. “I never wanted to leave, and you know that. But I couldn’t stay—not after everything that happened. And it’s not just about me anymore, Tamlin. I have responsibilities, people who need me.” 

Tamlin’s laugh was a harsh, mirthless sound. “Responsibilities? You mean your precious Night Court and your… mate? Is that what this is about? You running off to play hero for a court that isn’t yours, all because a pretty girl asked you to? Pathetic.” 

The mention of Lucien’s mate sent a jolt through you. Elain. You knew enough of her to understand the weight that name carried for him, but hearing Tamlin speak of her so callously made your blood boil. You could almost feel Lucien’s tension from where you stood, the barely restrained anger in his silence. 

When Lucien finally spoke, his voice was low, controlled, but there was an unmistakable danger in it. “Don’t speak of her. You have no right.” 

“Why? Because she’s your mate?” Tamlin’s voice dripped with derision. “Tell me, Lucien, how does it feel to be bound to someone who doesn’t want you? Someone who didn’t ask for this—just like she didn’t ask for anything that happened to her. You think following her around like a lost puppy is going to win her over? She’ll never love you, Lucien. Not like that.” 

The silence that followed was deafening. You could almost hear Lucien’s heart breaking, the words cutting deeper than any blade could. 

Then, with a coldness that sent shivers down your spine, Lucien spoke again. “I’m done here, Tamlin. If you want to wallow in your misery, fine. But I won’t be part of it anymore.” 

You heard footsteps, heavy and determined, heading in your direction. Panic seized you, and you scrambled back to bed, throwing yourself under the covers and squeezing your eyes shut just as the door to your room creaked open. 

You kept your breathing steady, feigning sleep, but you could feel Lucien’s presence in the room, his gaze lingering on you. There was a long pause, as if he was debating whether to wake you or let you rest. Finally, he crossed the room, his footsteps soft but deliberate. 

“Hey,” he whispered, his voice so close you could feel the warmth of his breath. “We need to leave. Now.” 

You didn’t move, keeping your breathing slow and even, hoping he would believe you were still asleep. Another pause, then a soft sigh. 

“Sorry about this,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. “I’ll explain later.” 

You felt his hand on your shoulder, a gentle shake that roused you—or at least, made it seem like you were just waking up. You blinked groggily, playing the part as best as you could, though your mind was racing with everything you had overheard. 

“Lucien?” you asked, your voice thick with sleep. “What’s happening?” 

“We’re leaving,” he said simply, his tone brisk but not unkind. “Something’s come up, and we need to head to the Summer Court right away.” 

You didn’t protest, though your thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion and concern. You let him help you out of bed, his touch lingering for just a moment longer than necessary, as if he was grounding himself in the simple act of guiding you. There was a tension in his posture, a weariness that hadn’t been there before, and it made your heart ache for him. 

He was quiet as you both gathered your things, his movements efficient and practiced, as though he had done this a hundred times before. You wondered how many nights he had spent like this—leaving in the dead of night, running from something or someone, never staying long enough to feel safe. 

You followed him out of the room, down the silent hallways of the manor that had once been his home. He moved with a familiarity that only deepened your sadness for him, every turn and every step a reminder of the life he had left behind. But there was no nostalgia in his movements now, only a grim determination to put as much distance between him and this place as possible. 

Outside, the night was cool and still, the stars a faint glimmer against the dark sky. The horses were waiting, saddled and ready, as if Lucien had anticipated this departure. He helped you mount, his hands firm but gentle on your hips, and you couldn’t help but notice the way his fingers lingered, as if seeking reassurance in the contact. 

He mounted his own horse with a practiced ease, taking the reins of your horse once more, just as he had when you first set out from the Autumn Court. But this time, there was no light banter, no stories to pass the time. The night was heavy with unspoken words, the silence between you filled with all the things you both were too afraid to say. 

As the manor faded into the distance behind you, you couldn’t help but glance back one last time. You didn’t know what lay ahead in the Summer Court, but you knew that whatever it was, it would be easier to face than the ghosts that haunted Lucien in the place he once called home. 

And as you rode through the night, the only sounds were the rhythmic thud of hooves against the earth and the whisper of the wind through the trees, you silently vowed to find a way to help him, to reach past the walls he had built and find the man who had once let you see the warmth beneath. 

For now, though, all you could do was follow him into the darkness, hoping that the light you had seen in him earlier was not lost forever. 

TAGLIATELLE

@littlest-w01f @rcarbo1 @mirandasidefics @thelov3lybookworm @lilah-asteria @megscabinetofcurios

[eroguron0nsense]

"The Marines Are Garp's Found Family"

I am something of a certified Garp hater but one of the things I see floating around a lot of comments sections regarding Garp's behaviour at Marineford (i.e. his conflict of love and duty re: failing to do the right thing and help save Ace/leave the Marines for any number of reasons) is the notion that Garp is choosing between two found families: his grandchildren, and the marines that he's come to see as a second/found family in the vein of every other One Piece child looking for a place to belong and this is, as far as I can tell, pulled out of someone's ass. We truly don't know enough about Garp or what he thinks of the Marines to conclude that they are, in any way, shape, or form for him, a family that effectively filled a need for him that wasn't already met. He's mentored some kids, certainly, and he's close to Sengoku, but Garp is a massive mystery and the only feelings we see him display toward the Marines are a) absolute, flawed loyalty and b) a desire to see them change with a subsequent generation, hence his willingness to defend Coby til the bitter end. Garp's dedication to the Marines reads more like steadfast dedication to the platonic ideals of their propaganda –in spite of him knowing full well how fundamentally corrupt and oppressive they are– than anything related to seeing them as his kin or family; you know, the thing he decided was less important than his duty to The Evil Empire. If we're talking about Found Family though, there's a marine with a way stronger perception of that, who we know for a fact was raised by Sengoku and dedicated his life to serving the people who took him in after he lost everything. Corazon more than anyone sees Sengoku as his adoptive father, and the feeling's returned; after his expulsion from Mariejois and the incredible traumas of his childhood, they're the only people who gave him safety, stability, and affection. He has more motivation than virtually anyone to be unflinchingly, painfully loyal to the Navy, but when he's confronted with Law–a sole survivor of Flevance and living incarnation of the WG's cruelty–he's horrified, guilt-stricken, and eventually risks everything for a child he's only really known for a short time, betraying the Navy and his mission to steal the Ope Ope no Mi, because he knows in his heart that it's the right thing to do as a parent. He dies for love, but also to a lesser extent for justice– to give a child who's lost everything to the oppressive system he was part of, a child everyone else has failed and abused, who was condemned to death by the World Government, a second chance at life. Cora had a found family in the Marines and he left/betrayed them anyway because he knew, when confronted with a living example of their atrocities, where his real duty and morals lay. That their hypothetical interests didn't supersede the life of a little boy that their higher ups stole everything from and ruined. Garp could never.

[gaytrashgoblin]

Cute, Little Smile

Merry Pitchmas @ridiculously-over-obsessed!!! Little weird that we got each other Max, and we were both a little late this year??? We should be better friends, my dude. Anyhow, please enjoy this short and sweet lil bechloe fic I cooked up for ya!

Of all the things Beca has done, running seems to be the only constant in her life aside from music. Whether it be from some weird childhood trauma she hasn’t dealt with, her own emotional immaturity as a 19 year old, or what, she’s not sure, but she does know that she is phenomenal at it. I mean, just look at her- for the first time in her life she found a group of friends she felt she really connected with and the moment things got hard what did she do? Oh, right! She yelled at Jesse, who was admittedly on her side if a little misguided in his attempt to prove that, then quit the Bellas. After stewing in what was originally righteous indignation but then turned into regret, she really went for broke. Which is how she finds herself here, in her dad’s house, drinking coffee with him in his kitchen. 

“Yeah I shut everybody out, don’t take it personally, it’s just easier,” she says heavily. After a pause her father responded.

“It’s also really lonely.” With that, Beca flips through some of her memories since coming out to college. How, in the past few months, she’s felt really seen and validated in her hobbies and herself as a person. Like, maybe she doesn’t need to love movies the way everyone else does or change her appearance or be less brash or less… her to be worth someone’s time. She thinks about how movies really aren’t awful if you’re watching them with the right company who doesn’t shut you down for critiquing them. About how supportive her friends had been of her dream to produce music and how she supported her changing the setlist and how she- wait, she? Did she really bond with any of them except Chloe? Fat Amy was probably the closest to her, but that may have just been because she was just as on the fringes of Aubrey’s ideals as Beca was. 

Beca takes a few days to start looking at her time at Barden with a little more scrutiny because, really, was it just Chloe? That can’t be. She spent more time with Jesse than with Chloe! But… she did spend a lot of her time with him wishing she was with Chloe instead. Or, sometimes, even wishing he was Chloe instead. Particularly when he started throwing out those cheesy flirts and getting close to her face and… ah, shit. 

Beca walks into the practice room ready to swallow her pride. If not for herself and the fact that those girls were her friends and she would like them back, thank you very much, but for Chloe, who deserves the ICCA win. And, also, maybe some honesty, because Beca may be a newly discovered queer, but god damn if she doesn’t know it would be easy to treat Chloe better than that asshole she was dating at the start of the year. She didn’t quite know what to expect when she walked in, but it certainly wasn’t whatever the hell it was. 

Aubrey, Chloe, and Amy were wrestling, Lily was lying in a pool of vomit (extra gross, btw), and everyone else was in disarray. 

“I came to apologize,” Beca starts, holding what feels to her like prolific eye contact with Chloe. “What I did was a dick move, and I shouldn’t have left.” She sees Chloe’s eyes widen a little at that admission, which makes her feel more vulnerable than she already is, since Chloe is the only one who knows about her dad and all of that drama. She’s glad that she, or whatever happened here, convinced Aubrey to give changing the setlist a try. She’s also grateful that they are now free to leave the vomit smell of the auditorium- and leads them to the empty pool that they had the riff-off in. 

As much as she wants to have Chloe pick the song, she lets Aubrey do it, as something like an olive branch. Once more locking eyes with Chloe, Beca adds in the Neyo song, hoping beyond hope that maybe, just maybe, Chloe will get what she means and she won’t have to actually come out and say it. Because there is only so much vulnerability Beca can stand in any given time period, let alone all in one day. After they sing their mashup in the pool, she thinks Chloe might get it, based on the way she’s smiling that cute little smile she used to have for Tom-The-Shower-Guy, but nothing ever happens. Beca, admittedly, gets swept up in her new responsibility of arranging nine different girls and vocal ranges into some sort of coherent setlist with a dance, and so her newly recognized feelings kind of get put on the back burner. She had noticed though, that somewhere during the process of arranging the set, that something shifted for Chloe. Beca really couldn’t tell you what, but she decided that after the finals she would suck it up and confront her. 

After their, in Beca’s opinion, killer performance at the finals, she meets Jesse in the crowd. “I told you, he always gets the girl in the end,” he says with a smirk. Beca’s face contorts.

“Dude, what?” 

“Oh, c’mon Bec, don’t be coy. The song! You put that in for me, for us.” 

“Uh, yeah, as an apology for being a dick, not some weird love letter thing.” Jesse’s face falls, and Beca awkwardly makes her way back over to the Bellas. 

“What, no kiss for your new boy-toy?” Amy asks loudly. Again, Beca’s face contorts. 

“Uh, no. No boy-toy for me, thanks. I don’t like him like that, like, at all.” Several of the Bellas express their disbelief. Has everyone been under the impression that she liked him? Beca’s head snaps to look at Chloe, who looks equal parts confused and relieved. Knowing that they have some time while the judges score everything, Beca grabs Chloe’s hand and drags her out.

“What- where are we going?” 

“I need to talk to you,” is all the explanation Beca gives. CR looks smug as they walk out and holds a hand out to Denise, who groans and slides her the $10 they had bet on this.

“Bec- wait, what is it, what’s wrong?” 

“What’s wrong is that apparently everyone thought I liked Jesse! I mean, how old are we that a girl can’t be friends with a guy without it meaning I somehow want to fuck him?” Beca says exasperatedly as she finally drops Chloe’s hand as they reach a mostly empty hallway. Chloe’s arms cross over her chest.

“Well, I mean, he’s the only person you really hang out with besides the Bellas. What were we supposed to think?” 

“That he’s my friend!” She says, throwing her arms up. “I’m pretty sure I said it like, really loud before that he’s not my boyfriend.” 

“Ok, so he’s not your boyfriend. It’s not a big deal, Becs. I don’t get why you’re so upset over it.” 

“I’m upset because everyone somehow thinks I like him, including the person I have actual feelings for!” That makes them both pause. Beca, because she had planned on doing this in a better way. A more private way, but here we go. 

“Oh. I guess that would be upsetting, the person you like thinking you like someone else,” Chloe says quietly, placing her hand on Beca’s arm in support. “I’ll get the girls to drop it, so that the guy you like isn’t getting the wrong idea.” 

“There- Chlo, there is no guy.” 

“But- you said that… okay. So the… girl,” she says carefully, “won’t get the wrong idea then.” 

“I just need you to not have the wrong idea,” Beca mutters with her head down. Chloe freezes. 

“Did you just-”

“It’s you, Chloe. It’s always been you, I… I get that now. It took me quitting and having a conversation with my dad of all people but I- it’s you.” Chloe tilts Beca’s head up with a single finger, smiling that soft little smile again. Finally. 

“For real? You mean that?” 

“Course I do, Beale. You make me feel… special. Like I really matter.”

“You do, Bec. You matter so much. To your dad, to the Bellas… to me.” Unable to stop herself anymore, and getting what she believes to be a green light, Beca leans in and kisses her. She’s vindicated in the fact that the movies are, once again, full of shit. There are no “fireworks” or “explosions” when she kisses Chloe. There is just… happiness. True, unfiltered happiness. And from the big grin that Chloe has when they pull back, it must be the same for her. 

“We should probably get back in there before they announce our victory,” Beca mumbles. 

“In a minute, I’m kissing my girlfriend,” Chloe responds as she leans back in with that cute little smile that, now, is reserved for Beca. 

[cosmicjoke]

The Psychological and Emotional Impact of Levi’s Early Childhood:

I don’t think Levi’s early childhood really gets discussed enough in the fandom, or the ways in which those experiences in his formative years had to have impacted him.  This could be because we don’t really get many panels depicting his childhood.  Just a few.  But those few panels show us enough for us to extrapolate plenty and form a pretty clear picture of what he went through.

First of all, it’s almost a certainty that Levi was born as the result of rape. 

That’s something that I think everyone should let sink in.

He was born in the brothel that his mother, Kuchel, worked in.  And “worked” is a relative term here.  Kuchel was driven into the Underground as a result of persecution by the royal family.  She was undoubtedly very young, she was alone, with no real resources or support or guarantee of safety or protection from anyone, in an environment of criminality and violence.  There were likely very few, if any options available to her in terms of her own survival.  Her becoming a prostitute wouldn’t have been any kind of a choice then, but rather a move made in desperation.  And so I think we can also safely assume that Kuchel’s experiences working as a prostitute were tantamount to forced labor.  In other words, a kind of slavery.  She was almost certainly paid a paltry sum by the brothels owner, evidenced by the sorry, squalid and destitute state we see her and Levi living in when Kenny comes.  She was likely afforded very few, if any rights or defenses against whatever her clients chose to do to her, as also evidenced by the fact that no one seemed to really know or care enough about her or Levi to even realize when she had died. 

It’s impossible for me to define any of what Kuchel went through working in such a place as anything less than rape, then.

So, Levi’s very existence is one that is a literal product of violence.  I’m absolutely sure that Levi himself is painfully aware of this, knowing that he was born out of his own mother’s pain and suffering.  Going into the implications of this on Levi’s psychological health, I think you can safely assume this realization had a very negative impact on his own sense of self-worth.  His mother was the only person in his childhood who we ever saw treat him with any kind of actual love or kindness.  The only person who ever, actually wanted him.  And yet, Levi would have seen demonstrated to him, every day, how his existence in his mothers life placed an increased burden on her, forcing her into increasingly more desperate circumstances, now having to feed two mouths instead of only one, and as a result, likely having to engage in increased, unwanted sexual activity with her clients.  So Levi would be aware that not only was his mother, (again, the only person who loved and treated him with tenderness) being hurt on his behalf, but he also would have been aware, after witnessing the particular ways in which she was being hurt, that he himself was the result of that violence.  Levi would have been shown that his very existence, then, was something which caused immense suffering and pain to the only person in his life who loved him.  I honestly can’t even imagine the negative implications of something like this on a young mind.  Only to say, it must have been horrific and resulted in lifelong trauma.  Trauma which, due to the desperation of Levi’s life afterward, he likely never had any opportunity or chance to even address. 

Now, moving on to something else.  There’s a tendency by many to paint Kuchel as this sort of perfect mother figure.  Someone who, through the power of her love for Levi alone, was able to overcome the trauma of their general circumstances, to negate the negative experiences he would have been exposed to, resulting in Levi becoming the kind and compassionate person he would be as an adult.  But I think this assumption about Kuchel and their situation is not only unrealistic and idealized in the extreme, but also in its way, undermines the actual bleakness of their circumstances.

Again, we have to remember that Kuchel was driven into the Underground, and essentially forced, through lack of any other options, to become a prostitute.  Calling her a prostitute is a nice way of saying she had to sell herself into sexual slavery.  Kuchel’s own psychological and emotional trauma doesn’t often get touched upon or acknowledged when people talk about her and her relationship with her son, nor does the desperate poverty of their living situation.  Kuchel died right in front of Levi, and we can assume with pretty good accuracy that she either died from a sexually transmitted disease, or that she died from malnutrition and starvation.  These weren’t two people, then, who were living a comfortable or secure life.  In fact, the very opposite.  Levi was starving to death when Kenny found him.  It’s easy enough to assume from his state of general neglect and starvation that Kuchel, at the very least, was struggling to provide for him.  Not just food, but any kind of comfort or care.  Clothing, warmth, protection, cleanliness, and very likely even, affection.  This isn’t a knock on Kuchel’s worth as a mother, or her parenting.  She was, undoubtedly, doing the best she could given the circumstances.  But, again, this particular aspect of their lives isn’t touched on nearly enough.  Kuchel died out of neglect, impoverishment, desperation and abuse.  Given what we can assume her day to day life was like, having to let men come and sexually assault her just to keep herself and her son alive, one has to also consider the emotional and mental toll this sort of existence would eventually have on her.  She had to have been exhausted, both mentally and physically.  You add to this the always uncertain and present reality of whether either her or Levi would even be able to eat on any, given day, whether she would be able to keep her son from starving to death, and you can start to form a clear idea of how things like “playtime” or “fun”, or freely given and enthusiastic love and affection, would be, tragically, low on the list of priorities.  Their situation was absolutely a situation of survival, first and foremost.  Luxuries weren’t a part of their lives.  Anyone who’s ever experienced extreme deprivation, poverty and desperation on the level in which Kuchel and Levi were living would know that those material realities absolutely have a negative impact on one’s ability to simply live.  To be happy.  To indulge in fantasy.  To indulge in luxury.  To indulge in any kind of relaxation or ease of living.  It’s nice to imagine that Kuchel was always able to show Levi love and affection.  To always be a kind, caring and generous mother to him.  But that perception of their lives together ignores the bleak and harsh reality of what was really going on.  More likely than not, Kuchel was often too exhausted and in bad, physical shape herself to play with Levi, to pay attention to Levi, to indulge in Levi.  It was everything she could do, after all, to simply keep Levi alive, let alone healthy and happy.  Kenny described Levi, when he first took him in, as the most unfriendly kid he’d ever met.  We rarely see Levi speak at all in those early days with Kenny.  That doesn’t speak to someone who is well adjusted socially.  That doesn’t speak to someone who received a lot of open love and affection in the formative years of his childhood.  Again, this isn’t to criticize or undermine Kuchel’s abilities as a mother.  It’s simply acknowledging the tragic reality, that someone in Kuchel’s position, living the kind of life she was living, wouldn’t have had the luxury of being for Levi everything he needed her to be. 

This also leads me into another point I don’t think I’ve ever seen discussed, and that has to do with Kuchel’s decision to have Levi at all, and how that choice is, simultaneously, both entirely selfless, and entirely selfish. 

Kenny tells his grandfather that he tried to talk Kuchel out of having her baby, trying to explain to her how bringing a baby into the kind of situation she was living in wasn’t viable.  It was only going to make, not only her own life worse, but in turn, the baby’s life was going to be awful too.  We later see, in Kenny’s memories, a scene in which Kuchel is holding Levi as a newborn against her chest and crying tears of happiness.  Kenny recalls this as part of his monologue about dreams, and the desperation of dreams, and the ability of dreams to corrupt us.  This is important to acknowledge.  Because again, while Kuchel’s intentions in giving birth to Levi were pure, and her love for him was absolutely pure and genuine, still, she DID bring him into a situation of extreme poverty, desperation and violence.  In a way, Kuchel prioritized her dream of motherhood not only over her own well being (this being the selfless aspect of her decision), but also over Levi’s well being (this being the selfish aspect).  She knew her own living situation was terrible, filled with suffering, cruelty and pain.  She knew this, and she was aware, from Kenny’s own words, that bringing a child into that situation was only going to make things worse, for both of them.  But she chose to do it anyway.  She chose to give birth to Levi, and to keep him, knowing the sort of deprivation and desperation he would be exposed to.  Knowing the kind of violence and cruelty and ugliness he would be exposed to, being born and raised in a brothel, in which she was working as a prostitute, relegated to a single room with him in it. 

Chances are high, extremely high, that Levi saw his mother raped.  Maybe she sent him out of the room when she was with clients.  But maybe she wasn’t able to.  We never see any evidence of Levi having ever left their single room as a child, and even if he had, the building they were in was a brothel, catering to men seeking and paying for the sexual services of women.  It isn’t an environment that is, in any way, suited to a child, friendly to a child, or even tolerant of a child.  It’s almost 100% certain that Levi was, at one time or another, exposed to sexual violence against women, whether it was his own mother, or someone else.  He would have been exposed to violence in general too, because men who sexually assault women are also very likely to physically assault them.  I don’t think it’s any kind of a stretch, even, to assume that Levi himself might have been on the receiving end of physical violence, at the least, in a place like that.  Men who wouldn’t want some little kid around while they force themselves on the women there probably would have little qualm with hitting Levi to make him go away. 

Again, going back to Levi’s “unfriendliness” when Kenny first takes him in, I think we can extrapolate that a lot of what Kenny was perceiving as unfriendly behavior was in fact just Levi being withdrawn.  He seemed sullen and mute to Kenny.  We see this in children who have been abused.  They tend to go within themselves and make themselves as unobtrusive as possible, not wanting to draw attention to themselves, because whenever they have, it’s always resulted in them somehow being hurt.  Levi’s body language when Kenny first meets him speaks to this as well.  He’s curled against the wall opposite his mother’s bed, literally making himself as small as possible, his knees hugged to his chest, his head bowed close to them, etc...  Like he’s trying to hide.  Again, it doesn’t take a stretch of the imagination to assume that Levi fell victim to the violence of the men who frequented that place.  The Underground in general was filled with violent and cruel men who made a living out of criminality, who in fact wouldn’t think twice about committing murder, etc... 

This is the world Kuchel brought Levi into.  A world of physical and sexual violence, a world of depravity and illness, a world of poverty and starvation.  Kuchel loved Levi with all her heart.  That isn’t for a moment in doubt.  But by choosing to have him and keep him, she also trapped him into a life of pain and suffering of his own.

Kuchel had to know, if anything were to happen to her, that Levi’s chances of survival were next to none.  He was helpless without her, and that too is evidenced by the fact that, when Kenny finds them, Levi is literally starving to death.  He’s just sitting there, resigned to his fate.  There’s no indication whatsoever that Levi ever even left their room to seek food, or help of any kind.  He just sat there, trapped with his mother’s rotting corpse, waiting to die.  And nobody there cared enough to even check on him or his mother in the span of time between when she fell ill and when she died.  Nobody there cared enough about either of their lives to see if they were okay, and we can assume, because Levi didn’t seek anyone’s help, that he didn’t think anyone would help him, which tells us all we need to know about how he and his mother were generally treated in that place.  Kuchel must have known, as she was dying, that without her, Levi was going to die too.  She had no way and no cause to know or think that Kenny would come by to rescue him.  And, indeed, if Kenny hadn’t shown up right when he did, Levi almost certainly would have died in that room with her.  I can’t even imagine the pain this must have caused her, knowing she was dying, and knowing as a result, that her son was going to die too.  It would have been unbearable.  But again, this is also the risk Kuchel took when she chose to give birth to and keep Levi.  She knew this was a possibility.  That her child would die a slow and painful death without her there to protect and take care of him.

So this sort of sunny, idealistic picture that tends to get painted of Levi’s life with his mother seems both unrealistic and unfair to them in terms of understanding their actual situation.  This wasn’t a happy or good life they were living together.  It was a life full of misery and pain.  Levi’s monologue later on to the 104th recruits, about not knowing if you’ll wake up and get to eat that day, or if your friends will still be alive, wasn’t just a reflection on their lives living with the threat of titans.  It was a reflection of his own life living in the Underground, living a life surrounded by poverty and violence and uncertainty.  That was Levi’s existence for the first 25 years of his life.  That was Levi’s childhood.  Violence and starvation, cruelty and deprivation.  Kuchel’s love, as pure and as genuine as it was, wasn’t enough on it’s own to overcome the scars of all that. 

One last note to end this on. 

There’s also a tendency to paint Kenny’s rescue of Levi as this very heroic and selfless act on Kenny’s part.  A moment in which Levi was pulled from the jaws of certain death and given a chance to live by his uncle.  And while, yes, Kenny certainly did save Levi’s life and give him that chance, I think it’s also important to acknowledge that Kenny’s treatment of Levi was abusive, and ultimately caused him more harm than good.  Kenny, we have to remember, went down to the Underground to rescue Kuchel.  He went to that brothel with the intention of pulling her out and bringing her to live back up on the surface, able to do so now that he had ended the persecution of their family through his connection with Uri Reiss.  But by the time he got there, Kuchel was dead, and she’d left behind her only child in Levi.  Kenny could have so easily brought Levi up to the surface with him, the way he’d been planning on doing with Kuchel, and given him a good and happy life.  He could have saved him from the hell of living in the Underground City.  A world of perpetual darkness, a world of constant danger and desperation and illness.  People talk about how Kenny gave Levi the tools to survive in such a harsh environment, and treat this as if it’s something to somehow be applauded and praised.  But Kenny shouldn’t have had to teach Levi to survive in a cut-throat environment at all.  He’d made it possible for those with the Ackerman name to live free of persecution up above.  He could have easily taken Levi with him and given him a good, traditional education, fed and clothed him, given him shelter, given him the chance to grow up in fresh air and sunlight, given him a chance to make friends with other children, to learn social skills and just live a normal existence with the opportunity to actually be happy.  But instead Kenny chose to keep Levi in the Underground, to teach him how to kill, to teach him to be violent, and not much else, before simply abandoning him there and never going back, forcing Levi to survive on his own in the most dangerous place inside the walls.  What Kenny did to Levi wasn’t a kindness.  A kindness would have been rescuing Levi from the Underground entirely and giving him a real life above.  A kindness would have been Kenny giving to Levi what he’d planned on giving to his sister.  But Kenny was too selfish to do that, and that’s the bottom line.  He didn’t want to have to take care of and raise a child.  He didn’t want the responsibility.  Whether that’s tied to Kenny’s own, negative perception of himself or not doesn’t matter.  He still chose not to take Levi with him and give him a real life because actually caring for and raising a child would have been too hard, too much work, too much responsibility.  By leaving Levi there in the Underground, he sent Levi the message, clear as day, that he wasn’t wanted.  And so Levi spent the entirety of his childhood, and a good portion of his adulthood, believing that, and living in the Underground, living a life of violence and desperation and suffering.

I don’t think the suffering Levi went through as a child gets discussed or acknowledged enough, or examined enough.  I don’t think people often look at it with enough objective realism to realize the extreme harm and trauma Levi experienced and was left with.  It’s genuinely a miracle that Levi turned out the way he did.  That Levi is as good a man as he is.  Nothing in his life growing up can really account for that.  Everything in his life growing up would evince that he should have become the sort of man Kenny was, selfish and cruel.  It’s truly against all odds that Levi became the exact opposite.  Selfless in the extreme, kind, caring and compassionate above and beyond anyone else in the series.  Someone who fights for and gives his life in dedication to the dreams and lives of others.

In many ways, Levi is, himself, the greatest miracle of all.

[khattikeri]

maybe a controversial opinion but while i really love jiang cheng as a character he is deeply self-centered as a person. and seeing people fight tooth and nail claiming he isn't, or is just misunderstood, or that he has genuine valid reasons to be selfish when plenty of other characters make the difficult choice to forego status and opportunities for what they believe is genuinely right to do (read: wei wuxian, wen ning, wen qing, lan wangji, jiang yanli, mianmian, etc.)

it's just odd to me. especially if they're talking about the novels.

mxtx didn't give jiang cheng the name "sandu shengshou" as a quirky coincidence. there's a REASON she named him & his sword after the 3 poisons of Buddhism (specifically ignorance, greed, and hatred). it's crucial to the story that jiang cheng is NOT selfless and that wei wuxian IS.

it's important to accept that wei wuxian is, by their society's standards, not morally gray; he represents several Buddhist ideals in direct contrast of jiang cheng and multiple people attest to wei wuxian's strong moral character, which is a lot of why jiang cheng even feels bitter about him to begin with.

it's crucial, because by the end of the novel jiang cheng realizes the extent of this and begins to let go!

the twin prides thing wasn't jiang cheng wanting them to 100% mirror the twin jades. he does care about wei wuxian, but he wanted wei wuxian to stay his right hand man, in part the way wei changze was for jiang fengmian.

and if there's one thing you can notice about wei changze in the novels, it's that literally nobody talks about him. he is only ever mentioned when his cool mysterious mountain sect wife cangse-sanren is mentioned, or (even more rarely) when they discuss him as a servant to jiang fengmian. regardless of jiang fengmian's own feelings, wei changze was considered lesser to him and didn't seem to outdo him, since nobody's out there years later still waxing poetry about wei changze's skills.

it may not be the only thing jiang cheng wants out of a twin pride dynamic, but it is a big part of it. regardless of his parents' intentions in taking wei wuxian in and treating him certain ways, this twin pride right-hand man thing is what jiang cheng has felt owed since childhood. he gave up his dogs for wei wuxian, people gossip about his sect heir position with wei wuxian there... jiang cheng wants the reciprocation of what he views as personal sacrifices.

he is ignorant to the depth of what wei wuxian must've suffered for over 6 years as a malnourished orphan child on the streets. he hates how wei wuxian's intelligence, witty charm, and cultivation abilities are naturally stronger than his own. he does care about wei wuxian a lot and want them to be together as sort of-brothers, sort of-friends, sort of-young master and sect servant...

...but if it's between that unclear (yet still caring) relationship and being able to save himself just a little bit more, jiang cheng nearly always manages to clam up in the face of danger and choose the latter, which ultimately benefits himself most. maybe it's a stretch to call that sort of thing greed, but it certainly isn't selfless.

there are of course plenty of justifications for this. it's his duty as sect heir. his home and sect was severely damaged by the wen attack and subsequent war; he had to protect himself, etc.

but doesn't that prove the point?

wei wuxian may be charming, but in terms of pure social standing, he is lower and far more susceptible to being punished or placed in harm's way by people who have more power and money. to protect wei wuxian, yunmeng jiang's long-term head disciple and semi-family member, even in the face of backlash and public scrutiny would've been the selfless thing to do. this is what wei wuxian does for the wen remnants in the burial mounds.

jiang cheng does not choose this. it's not even an unreasonable choice for him to make! nobody else in the great clans is doing such a thing, stepping out of line to take on a burden that could weaken them in the long-run. wei wuxian himself doesn't hate jiang cheng for it; he lets go of these things and focuses on what good he can do in the present.

jiang cheng thinks further into the future - what would happen to him if he continued vouching for wei wuxian and taking his side? what about jiang cheng's face, his sect's face? would wei wuxian even care to reciprocate somehow? everyone expects him to cut off wei wuxian for being dangerous, for threatening his position, for...

do you see what i mean? to call jiang cheng selfless for falling in line with exactly what people expected him to do after the war is not only wrong, it's foolish.

"but they faked their falling-out!" okay. why fake it to begin with, except to protect jiang cheng and the jiang sect's own face? is that selfless? who does it ultimately serve to protect? wei wuxian canonically internalizes the idea that he stains all that he touches, including lan wangji, and agrees to the fake fight because he doesn't want to cause the jiang sect harm. regardless, it eventually slides into a true falling-out, and in the end jiang cheng is more or less unscathed reputation-wise while wei wuxian falls.

that isn't selfless. it's many things! it's respecting his clan and his ancestors, it's making a good plan for the future of his sect and cultivation... but it isn't a truly selfless in the interest of what's right rather than in the interest of duty and what's good for him and his family lineage.

that brings me to my next point: even though wei wuxian hid the truth of the golden core transfer, jiang cheng spent nearly 20 years believing that the golden core "renewal" he was given was a birthright gift of wei wuxian's from baoshan-sanren, an immortal sect teacher of wei wuxian's mother's and a martial elder to wei wuxian.

of course we all know that's a big fat lie, but jiang cheng believed that wei wuxian gave up a critical emergency use gift to him for decades! he was lied to, yes, but jiang cheng immediately agreed without even needing to be convinced. the light in his dead eyes came back with hope the moment wei wuxian even said baoshan-sanren's name. he accepted wei wuxian's offer to give that up to him and take it via identity theft without missing a beat.

with how mysterious and revered baoshan-sanren is, that's obviously not a light sacrifice to just give up to anyone, no matter how close they might be to you. pretending to be wei wuxian to take the gift could even be considered dangerous. what if she found out and got offended? could wei wuxian be hurt by that?

jiang cheng doesn't even hesitate. wei wuxian is the one who mentions that if jiang cheng doesn't pretend to be him, the immortal master could get angry and they'd both be goners. and funnily enough, the day they do go to "the mountain", jiang cheng is the one worried and suspiciously wondering if wei wuxian was lying to him or had misremembered.

of course they've both been traumatized like hell prior to this point. but still: it speaks to how broken he was at the moment as well as to his character overall.

i digress: jiang cheng "gets his golden core back" via what he believed was a gift that should've been wei wuxian's to use in serious emergencies. rather than use it for himself, wei wuxian risked his own safety and gave it to jiang cheng... and jiang cheng still ends up embittered and angry, believing that wei wuxian is arrogant and selfish.

if he truly views them as 100% brothers and equals with no caveats, why would he think that way? it's not like he needs to grovel before wei wuxian for doing that, or to reciprocate... but this is what i mean when i say jiang cheng feels he is owed things by wei wuxian. wei wuxian's actions hold a very different weight in jiang cheng's mind, and jiang cheng himself doesn't ever act the same way, except once.

is it wrong for him to feel like he is owed something? it depends. many asian cultures, including my own, feel that a person owes their family in ways that may not make sense to westerners. for example, it's considered normal for a child to owe their parents for giving birth to them, or to other caretakers for feeding, clothing, sheltering, educating them, etc.

however, something like verbally saying "thank you" or "i'm sorry" to family is considered crazy- why would you owe that? you're supposed to inconvenience your family; saying thank you or sorry is the sort of thing you say to a stranger or acquaintance. i get half-seriously lectured by my elders on this a lot even now, even though they know such phrases are just considered good manners in the US.

this muddies up the idea of wei wuxian being jiang cheng's family vs his family's charge or servant even more. jiang cheng wants wei wuxian to be close... but ultimately doesn't really choose to use what power he DOES have to protect wei wuxian. he considers himself still owed something that in his mind wei wuxian flagrantly never repays.

this isn't even getting into how despite spending a majority of his time with the yiling patriarch he never once noticed that wei wuxian stopped using any spiritual power-based cultivation. even lan wangji, who met them far more rarely, realized that something was wrong and that wei wuxian had taken some sort of spiritual damage, hence the "come with me to gusu".

of course manpain is fun and i'm not immune to the juicy idea of them reconciling and talking things out... but jiang cheng is deeply mired in his own desire to be "above" wei wuxian in multiple ways, and doesn't realize the extent of wei wuxian's actions, the intentions behind them, and the consequences wei wuxian knowingly faced for them.

to not recognize this about jiang cheng, especially in the novels, is really revisionist if you ask me. i reiterate that i really do like him a lot. he's flawed, angry, traumatized and has poor coping mechanisms, an overall fascinating character... but he is not selfless nor ideal, and i seriously draw the line at people saying he is.

wen ning shoves this all into his face at lotus pier to disastrous results. it is the reason why jiang cheng's a total mess at guanyin temple, and the reason jiang cheng ultimately doesn't tell wei wuxian about the fact that he ran towards the wens on purpose.

for that one last act of his to have really been selfless, he needs to not seek anything in return. he did it purely because it was right to do to protect someone else. if that means wei wuxian never finds out about it, so be it.

that moment that ended up causing jiang cheng irreversible harm is not a debt that wei wuxian owes him. it hurts, but no matter how bitter it is, that realization is so important to him changing in the future.