#i am. fucking exhausted and

[captainjonnitkessler]

>Join a union

>Hear people constantly complaining that the current union leadership is super corrupt, it's all just the same ten guys making all the decisions in secret and nobody else in the union ever gets to know what's going on

>Go to the monthly union meetings that are completely open to all 1200 union members

>The only attendees are the same ten guys every month, giving detailed reports about everything that's going on

[shizunitis]

Ghostfire Shen Yuan loyally following the lonely, undying, forgotten Luo Binghe from the original outline.

They never even met.

Shen Yuan had died long before Luo Binghe’s story was set to start. Abandoned by his System, he was left wandering the realms, searching for anything to latch onto, anything to stave off the darkness encroaching on his consciousness whenever he stopped. He keeps himself entertained with little jokes and references that will never reach anyone. At least back home, there were other people on the opposite side of his screen reacting, seeing. Paying attention.

He never would have thought he’d miss the times he was perceived by others. He’d give anything, though. Anything.

He stumbles upon the protagonist as he’s ascending the stairs of Cang Qiong Mountain Sect for the first time. Dressed in rags and heaving with the effort, Luo Binghe is exactly as Shen Yuan had pictured: a little bun, soft and kind and so very brave.

The excitement wears off soon enough. When the tea ceremony is held, Shen Yuan watches, hopelessly trying to stop the cup from hitting Binghe’s head. He lunges at Shen Jiu; let him be identified and exorcised, at least he would have done something with himself, however useless. It doesn’t work. Of course not—nothing can come between Luo Binghe and his fate.

Shen Yuan thinks about leaving. Many times. But every time he considers the possibility of going back to wandering the world, or just passing on… Well. There’s still a lot to see, isn’t there? It will get better. It will.

Only, it doesn’t. Not really.

There’s no harem; there’s no warm comfort offered to Luo Binghe by a sympathetic beauty, no wedding celebrations, no moments of gentle companionship, however brief, however superficial. There’s no camaraderie with the demons underlings, his generals, his allies; it’s all casual cruelty and dismissals, before it’s violence and subjugation.

There’s no joy. There’s no hope. There’s no ‘better’.

Something is wrong, that’s clear. Something is wrong, and Shen Yuan has no one to blame.

This is clearly not the Proud Immortal Demon Way he knows.

Centuries later, when Luo Binghe begs for the heavens to allow him to die, Shen Yuan hears. When Luo Binghe rages against the passage of time, alone in the wreckage of his palace, left behind by everyone he’d ever known, Shen Yuan accompanies him. When Luo Binghe lies down in the Holy Mausoleum and refuses to get up, Shen Yuan waits until he opens his eyes again and leaves the palace.

They end up in a hidden realm so filled with Yin Energy that Shen Yuan can channel it to manipulate his form into that of his former body. It’s not detectable by the living, but it’s there. He feels stronger, too. He can walk, float, fly, interact with what few other ghosts they encounter.

Still, Luo Binghe cannot see him.

Luo Binghe doesn’t talk much. Well, that makes sense, he was never in the habit of talking to himself, but still. It’s lonely.

They end up in a town where a diviner takes one look at Luo Binghe and offers him a free reading. Shen Yuan can’t enter her tent, so he waits outside.

She tells Luo Binghe of the little hanger-on he’s got. A powerful one, too, though he’s still getting used to his powers. He’s been here for a long time, she says. Since he was a child. He comes from far away—farther than even the most distant star.

Luo Binghe begins talking to him. Shen Yuan isn’t sure why, but he’s not complaining!

Luo Binghe also begins meditating again, trying to soothe the damage done by Xin Mo over the centuries. For every meal, he places a few fruits across from him on a plate he’d made himself, which he eats only after finishing his own dish. He makes space by his side whenever he walks on a narrow road. He stops at every landmark and tells stories about them, always starting the same way.

“Do you remember when…” becomes Shen Yuan’s favourite phrase.

One night, Luo Binghe sighs and looks across the table. Shen Yuan places himself so that he’s in Luo Binghe’s focus.

“What is it, Binghe?”

Luo Binghe doesn’t answer him, of course. Still, it feels like a conversation, when he says:

“I wish I knew your name.”

Shen Yuan frets. He’s been trying to manipulate the physical world, but he never got the hang of it. He’d tried drawing in sand, with water, just pushing things off shelves. And yet, nothing.

“I’m sorry, I wish—” he tries, but Luo Binghe is already talking again.

“I wonder if we ever crossed paths when you were alive.” He’s expressed this thought more than once. Shen Yuan never likes to think about how they’ve missed each other, how they’d been set up for failure from the start. “I wonder if we would have been friends.”

Shen Yuan scoffs. Of course not. Him and the protagonist? No way.

But—those cold star eyes, blindly searching for him, trying to land on him… They make him want to say, I would have liked that.

He reaches a hand out to touch Luo Binghe’s forhead. He’s taken to doing it whenever Luo Binghe broods, or makes a silly joke Shen Yuan wishes he didn’t find funny. It’s soothing.

He wishes Binghe could feel it.

When his finger touches the demon mark, it blazes. Luo Binghe gasps, that heavy gaze settling on Shen Yuan’s face.

Shen Yuan startles, and jumps away.

“No! Wait!”

Shen Yuan hesitates. Luo Binghe is looking around himself, eyes begging for even a wisp of Shen Yuan’s shadow.

He can’t deny Luo Binghe this.

He can’t deny himself this.

He reaches out again. This time, he cups Luo Binghe’s cheeks. When those eyes clear of panic and widen in awe, he whispers, softly, “Shen Yuan. My name is Shen Yuan.”

Luo Binghe looks like he’s been handed a treasure so precious he’s afraid to touch it. He hesitates, raising his hands in careful starts and stops, before taking Shen Yuan’s face in them, gently caressing the soft, cold skin of his face. His eyes dance with the haste he takes in memorising Shen Yuan’s features.

Then, he smiles. Helpless and weak and so, so precious. Shen Yuan has not seen hope so bright in Luo Binghe’s face since that fateful day on Cang Qiong Mountain.

“Hello, Shen Yuan.”

[blushedfemmes]

slut autism is a curse because i was designed in a lab to reach pure sensory ecstasy during sex but actually having sex in these wacky modern times requires constantly responding to messages on a piece of metal that doesn’t feel real to me and i suck at it so bad so idk. if you want this pussy write me a letter

[uncanny-tranny]

This might seem like an "old man yells at cloud" situation, but it's just wild growing up and being told how dangerous distracted driving is - how, at highway speeds, you can traverse the length of a football field (100 yards, 91 meters) in a matter of seconds - how one split second sending a text while driving could result in a potential fatal crash, and then getting on the road as a driver and being surrounded by billboards. Their entire purpose is to catch one's attention, so they're lining major roads, which tend to be highways. How is it that you're told how important it is to never be distracted while driving, but still being advertised to?

At best, this type of advertising is an eyesore to pedestrians and motorists and a general waste of electricity to light it, and at worst, it is an active danger considering they are there to advertise and therefore, must catch people's attention.

I'm not even against advertising in theory, but this particular mode bothers me so much and I hate how pervasive it is - especially in large cities or highways.

[inkskinned]

he says i hate everyone except you and that is addictive and that is kind of romantic and beautiful because you're young and you're kind of a sarcastic asshole too and you don't like bad boys, per say, but you don't really like good ones either. and you like that you were the exception, it felt like winning.

except life is not a romance book, and he was kind of being honest. he doesn't learn to be nice to your friends. he only tolerates your family. you have to beg him to come with you to birthday parties, he complains the whole time. you want to go on a date but - people are often there, wherever you're going. he's just so angry. about everything, is the thing. in the romance book, doesn't he eventually soften? can't you teach him, through your own sense of whimsy and comfort?

at first - you know introverts often need smaller friend groups, and honestly, you're fine staying at home too. you like the small, tidy life you occupy. you're not going to punish him for his personality type.

except: he really does hate everyone but you. which means he doesn't get along with his therapist. which means he has no one to talk to except for you. which means you take care of him constantly, since he otherwise has no one. which means you sometimes have to apologize for him. which means he keeps you home from seeing your friends because he hates them. you're the single exception.

about a decade from this experience, you'll type into google: how to know if a relationship is codependent.

he wraps an arm around you. i hate everyone except you. these days, you're learning what he's actually confessing is i have very little practice being kind.

[brujahinaskirt]

arthur is rude to that one sex worker because the guys are fucking around as they oughtn't be and he actively wants the source of their distraction to go away. that is how he operates through the entire game: deliberate, utilitarian intimidation and strategic unpleasantness to achieve a goal. it is an early game commentary on arthur meant to position him as a big dog that barks. it is not a commentary on his views about women which are clarified many times afterward. you guys realize that right

[brokenxheart]

If they only knew....

[letsventstuff]

How nice it'd be to be taken care of for a while?

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Sally is the real neighborhood Rizzler... you all know i'm right...

[myautisticpov]

Okay, I think it's time I talked about my Duracell Bunny/Sleepy Time scale for autistic people/people with ADHD...

So, what's the scale:

If you have autism and/or ADHD, every activity exists on a scale from Duracell Bunny to Sleepy Time (with Normal in the middle).

A Duracell Bunny activity is something that you do to an extent that most neurotypical people are exhausted just thinking about. For example, before the joints in my hands got all fucked up, I could consistently write a really high word count per day, and I would regularly see people call it impossible. And as the years have gone on, most of the people I know of who hit similar word counts have all been diagnosed as autistic and/or ADHD.

A Sleepy Time activity is one where just looking a neurotypical doing it a regular amount makes you exhausted. Where the amount of energy required to do the thing wipes you out for the rest of the day.

Different people have different Duracell Bunny and Sleepy Time activities and one thing that I've noticed a lot of autistic and ADHD people do about their Duracell Bunny activities is look at autistic/ADHD people for whom it is a Sleepy Time activity and say "well, I'm autistic/ADHD and I don't have any trouble with it, so clearly you're just making an excuse."

And this is extra annoying because ADHD/autistic Duracell Bunnies have more energy for the thing than neurotypicals, so they can end up in leadership positions and entrenching a really unhealthy environment for everyone. Including themselves - Duracell Bunnies are not always immune to burnout, so you can get a Duracell Bunny who is obviously engaging in dangerous and/or unhealthy coping mechanisms yelling at Sleepy Times who aren't because the Sleepy Times have had to firm about their boundaries from the beginning.

(In fact, sometimes people can end up in crisis because of burnout, and instead of learning anything, go right back to the level of effort that caused burnout and use their crisis as proof that they are actually worse off than the people who set boundaries and didn't end up in crisis, and that those people, therefore, just don't care enough...)

But yeah, TL;DR: Sometimes autistic/adhd people have more energy for certain activities than even neurotypicals, and these people can have a bad habit of pointing at autistic/adhd people with less energy for the activity and saying "well, if I can do it, that must mean every adhd/autistic person can" which leads to people refusing to provide accommodations, or shaming people who cannot show up in the same ways

[thebroken--soul]

It’s 2024 and Margot Robbie wasn’t nominated for the Oscar of Best Actress for Barbie and Greta Gerwing got snubbed for the Best Director but Ryan Gosling got nominated for playing Ken ?! Looks like everyone has still not understood the message behind Barbie…

[goatfactsofficial]

was watching Dungeon Meshi today and had to stop and take 30 mins to carve this out for a new profile picture.

[deoidesign]

Idk who needs to hear this but time and time again isn't over!!!

Webtoon removed the "time and time again will return!!!" Banner and I don't know why, but it's not over!!! There's still another 1/3 of the comic to go! There's a lot more stuff that I'm working on and it'll be coming back soon!

Please be patient with me, I know it's been a long time... But the stuff I'm making is really good and there's a lot of reasons it's taken this long. I promise I want it back more than anyone.

I'm trying to come back around the end of October. I'm doing my best to get everything ready in time, so no promises, but I'm on track to do so! I'm just one person writing and drawing everything, and my editor was fired so I'm not even getting any notes anymore. It's literally just me. I'm doing my best I promise!

[yayll]

~ a little something about you and Dazai trying to love each other a little bit less ~

It's Sakura season, and it's not being shared with someone you love. That's fine, you think to yourself as you sit on the bench, the sunset overlooks the port and you have the park to yourself. The fragile petals fall all around you, covering you in flakes of pink, like snow that won't melt. Though they will shrivel up, you think that might be worse than the instant loss of a melting snowflake. The thing about snowflakes is they melt upon warm contact but these petals won't melt at the touch of cold nor warmth, they'll lie there until their beauty fades along with what's left of their fleeting life. You stare at one in particular as it lands into your coffee cup, floating at the top instead of sinking.

That's what it was like to be in love with Osamu Dazai, and what it was like to sense his dreadful presence approaching you like the wind billows on a starless night. You ignore him, staring down at your coffee cup like it's going to save you, knowing it won't. In your peripheral vision, he looks spectral, and you catch a wave trying to get you to look up along with a familiar voice that reeks of faux friendliness.

"Are you always this avoidant when people try to greet you?"

You bite the soft flesh inside of your cheek, gripping your coffee just a bit tighter, unresponsive.

He continues, hands tucked into his coat and a smirk on his face.

"The blooms are nice today, eh? At their peak. Thought I'd stop by to enjoy them but it seems someone's already taken my favorite bench. At my favorite spot. What a shame."

After another long pause, his voice loses the playful edge and he says your name in a firm tone. This causes you to finally snap to attention, eyes wide and as fragile as those petals that shower you both. He smiles once more, but it's uglier this time, mocking. You mirror him by calling out to him right back, a hint of bitterness in your voice.

"Dazai."

He steps closer, towering over you. He always thought you looked best when you were looking up at him. It would almost sting that you're using his last name if it weren't for the fact that it sounded so good coming out of your mouth. He leans down to you just a tad bit.

"Sooo flustered..."

"I'm not flustered."

It's a joy to know he can still make you feel something, you were always wearing your heart on your sleeve, and your emotions on your precious little face. He sighs dramatically, waving his arms around.

"Mhm, sure you're not. You're lying... And it's honestly boring me to death! And I love death!"

You look away towards the port and roll your eyes, a quiet scoff escaping you along with it.

"Oh, so we're doing this."

It's almost like they're flirting, he thinks. Just like old times, maybe. It sends a thrill down his spine.

"Yes. We are."

You smile faintly, but it disappears just as fast as it materialized.

"I'll head out now and leave you to your favorite bench at your favorite spot, then."

He doesn't even allow you the chance to stand up before he shifts to stand fully in your way, imposing himself with an unreadable expression on his face that's hiding his real thoughts.

"Stay here a minute, I'd like to ask you a tiny little thing."

You tilt your head, the way you used to every time he perplexed you with some nonsense he'd spew out either to toy with you or when he'd say those three poisonous words you could never handle hearing from him.

"Dazai, I don't know if that's wise..."

He knew what you meant by that, because if you stayed like all the other times, you'd never leave. He sees the effect he has on you and he uses that to his advantage. His voice softens, something you aren't used to anymore.

"... But will you do it anyway? Stay here?"

You bite the corner of your lip and sigh... Of course you do.

"I guess... I will."

His eyes narrow and he fights back a smile at the thought of being able to stump you like this.

He's not sure where he's going with this but he's sure he'll think of something to say, he just wants to keep talking to you a little longer. He invades your personal space, and almost reaches out to place a hand on your face but decides not to, opting to keep the unbalanced dynamic going. You breathe out, unable to handle the silence, your cheeks already turning pink.

"Seems to me like you're stalling."

He observes you knowing how desperate you are to hear what he has to say, enjoying the moment of simply holding your gaze when he really should think of what the hell to ask you. He becomes dangerously close, his voice taking on a velvety approach with that lazy smile you love so much.

"Me? I'm doing nothing of the sort."

You look down at your shoes shamefully, something that would have made you so giddy to hear before now just feels like a slap to the face. Your eyes flicker to the way his hands now rest at his sides and it makes you wish they were wrapped around your neck instead. It all causes you to mumble without thinking.

"You always want to stop me from something... You keep me frozen in time."

He tilts his head, finally reaching out to take your hand but when you don't meet him halfway he settles for hooking his pinky around yours instead. He won't move it until you do first.

"Is that so bad? To be frozen by me?"

You're losing this battle, you know that because you can feel your heartbeat in your pinky when he tightens it just a little but it's enough to feel him invade you even further. He feels it too.

"I wish I thought it were..." You say, lamely.

"Why don't you, then?"

He asks quickly, amused. He squeezes your pinky harder and it's starting to cut your circulation off. You look back up with that ridiculously innocent face that always made him want to jump into the river, you didn't even know how precious you looked that way.

"You know why, Osamu."

Oh it's like a shot to the heart when you switch to his first name. How dare you. He wishes you'd say it under different circumstances because he doesn't like this one. That, plus the urge to mock you for your emotions always being so damn sincere causes his gaze to shift. It's less playful now as he stares into your eyes, his voice going low.

"... I don't think I do."

You bite the inside of your cheek again and taste blood from how hard you're holding back the urge to just. Go. But you can't and you won't. It's the same doomed story over and over again.

You murmur with pathetic longing.

"No, you never seem to."

He's figured out his question, and he figures why he's holding your pinky like he's a tourniquet and you're bleeding out, but he doesn't intend on saving you, he's not that kind of guy.

It's dark now, and the Sakura petals are slowing down their fall to death, almost afraid to interrupt the tension going on here. He nods towards you, amused.

"Please, enlighten me."

You look away, a sad smile on your face.

"I don't know if I'm strong enough for that tonight."

He knows that, and you're stupid if you don't think he knows every single little thing about you. This is all just a review. This is all just his way of making sure you haven't moved on this time for sure.

"Aww, look at you, unable to resist me.~"

He mocks you, yet moves his over hand to the small of your back to really make sure you stay here with him. You instantly regret letting your heart speak for you when you said you'd stay earlier. You frown, eyes glistening as the moon makes its presence known. The moon doesn't care to interrupt you two, but somehow it feels like it's on Dazai's side more than anything.

You shake your head, sighing.

"You're being mean. You should be home tonight and so should I."

He keeps staring into you, thinking how beautiful you look when you become so vulnerable around him. He finally releases your pinky, unable to take it anymore, and cups the side of your face instead while the other one still stays on your back. He shrugs and sighs as well, though it sounds more like an imitation of one.

"Perhaps I should be home. But I don't feel like it. Neither do I feel like letting you scurry away."

This causes you to purse your lips and knit your brows together, your patience running out from his games. He should have taken you out back and put you out of your misery ages ago, it's not too late, you think.

"Then what do you propose we do?"

"Hmm... Will you let me kiss you?" He asks as if this were the first time he's ever done it. As if he were concluding a successful first date. Your lip quivers, and he can feel you tremble.

"Why?"

"Why not?"

When you don't reply, he moves his face until his cheek is against yours and whispers into your ear.

"Are you going to say anything, silly? Or can I take this as a yes?"

You finally breathe out, the shock somewhat subsiding. You don't think twice, you're just as pathetic as you've always been. But so is he for asking.

"Kiss me."

You said yes. He gets what he wants from you, thank god. He won't tell you that just this morning he had a dream, or rather a revelation of you letting him kiss you. That he blew off his duties at the agency and visited every single place you used to frequent together until he found you here to make the prophecy come true. That this is a selfish attempt at getting not just that kiss, but your entire being. Your noses touch, and he whispers once more.

"Are you sure about that? You don't sound so sure, little thing."

You swallow hard, and your voice comes out meek and soft.

"I always am."

"Even now?"

He doesn't even wait for your reply before he's closing the distance between you, locking your lips together and sealing you against him, as if worried after all this time you'd still try to move away and leave. The kiss lasts longer than it was intended to, but eventually Dazai removes himself from you, he couldn't bear it if you did so first. You never would, you think to yourself. His gaze is genuinely soft now, his cruelty melting away like a snowflake, but you're dying in his arms like the petal.

"You've always known I'm yours, right? And you're mine?"

You want to cry when he says that, if only it truly was that mutual.

"I want it to be that way, but it seems you only kiss me when no one's around."

The empty outdoor space that envelops them, along with the waves rhythmically crashing against the port punctuates the silence that follows after. Dazai breaks the pause, something about what you just said bothering him deeply.

"If I kissed you when everyone was around, wouldn't they start to look?"

He knows that's terrible thing to say to you, but doesn't want to admit that the thought of others seeing him happy makes him feel like it's an omen, that the second he openly recognizes he's yours you won't stay his for very long. That it will all be a dream from another world. You scoff as you look away, your eyes stinging.

"Mmm... You're funny."

"I'm serious, me being in a relationship? Imagine that. I think the whole agency would be at a standstill. How scandalous."

He doesn't mean that, but he doesn't know why he can't stop pretending he doesn't have feelings and just speak the truth. Surprisingly, you crack a small smile at that, trying to find humor in the fact that you'll never figure him out.

"They'd all think you're looney, which you are."

"That's an understatement! They'd think I'm deranged for letting such a cute person take me away from my very important duties.~"

He plays along with your sarcasm, what matters is you're cooperating.

"They'd all say I'm too good for you, anyway. Especially Kunikida." You really make sure that one hurts, but all he shows is a sly grin.

"It's just better if people don't know we're together, right?"

You look away, the moon's fully illuminating you both.

"It's better not to be together at all, Osamu."

Your words actually hurt like a knife to the chest, and once he goes there, he can't stop it. You weren't supposed to make such a permanent statement. He narrows his eyes, but his voice remains soft, desperate even.

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"You know what I mean, I'm not some secret you keep."

He somehow recovers and replies as smug as possible.

"I like you that way. Frozen in time, remember? The prettiest ice sculpture for me to adore for all eternity.... What else do you want me to say?"

You wince at that.

"Just say anything. Can you say it? Can you at least tell me you loved me at one point in time?"

That does it for him. You look so sad, you look so pliable and it's so attractive, but he's not looking to exploit that anymore tonight. It brings out something else. Something he can't take back.

"You do know I don't ever want anyone else, right? It was real to me then, and it's real to me now. Don't be dense."

He didn't notice the tears in your eyes before, the way they glisten thanks to the moon who's always on his side. He's stern when he speaks to you, his eyes locked on yours to make sure you get it through you stubborn little skull how devoted he has always been and always will be, even if he doesn't show it in the way you want him to.

You're irritated and enamored as you sniffle.

"And what am I supposed to do with that information, huh?"

He speaks above a whisper, you barely hear it yourself; It might as well be an auditory hallucination. His face is solemn, matching yours for once. He's not hiding anything right now.

"Keep it close to your heart and be mine..."

He clears his throat, and moves his other hand from your back to the other side of your face, fully holding you, making sure you have no escape.

"... I'm all yours, so be all mine. Okay?"

"We really are the same kind of stupid, Osamu... Now what?"

You say with a scoff that turns into a small laugh, your voice remaining bittersweet even in between sniffles.

"Now?" His voice trails off, humming as he pretends to think. There was never another outcome to this story, he was never going to say anything different. It's just the way he prophesied it. The way it's meant to be.

"Now you're going to take me home. We're going to get back to your place, and you'll reintroduce me to your very cold and lonely bed I've missed so much as I hold you forever and ever. You'll have no choice but to fall madly in love with me again, as I am with you. Done."

He drops your face and takes your hand properly now, hoping to lead you away into the night. He knows he doesn't deserve this, so he has to make it count.

He's hoping you won't find him crass and reject his request, he doesn't mean to be so blunt. He's just a desperate idiot who refuses to see another season change without you.

When Dazai says he misses intimacy with you, it's because he does. It's because he wants to tell you that this is the last time the cycle repeats itself, this is how he ends it but he needs you to want it too. You stare at him in disbelief at first, your hollow breathing now becoming shaky with each inhale. You choose to believe him, something in his face tells you he's being real for once. Besides, you already have nothing, so you can't lose anything.

"... Then lie in it again. Convince me."

You tuck a strand of his messy bangs that frame his face behind his ear, and you realize how pretty he looks this way. You never noticed he could be even more devastating than usual. You hope he'll keep letting you push it back like this.

He smiles, his voice dropping to a pleading tone at your reverent touch. At your mercy.

"Oh, I plan on it. We've made it this far. Even if it wasn't mutual anymore, it doesn't make it any less true... at least not for me. And just so you know, I did love you at one point in time, and I love you now, you fool."

You look down once again at the fallen petals at your feet already turning brown, and you realize this won't be you tonight, or ever again. You realize there is meaning in all of this and you won't be the snowflake nor the petal, you're going to be Dazai's. You squeeze his hand back, the corner of your lip curling up as you both walk away under the moonlight.

[m1d-45]

will you promise that i'll see you again?

summary: your people refuse reason, and their damage refuses to heal. when it seems as if the whole world has left you, your dutiful knight still remains by your side.

word count: 2.3k

-> warnings: implied suicidal ideation (reader + unnamed side character), reader's previous deaths are mentioned in somewhat graphic detail

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @yuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept || @wanderersqt || @rozz-eokkk

< masterlist >

“you’re one of the only things keeping me going, you know.”

dainslef turned to you in surprise, the even neutrality to your tone a sharp contrast to the rapid pace of his heart. he wasn’t a fool, he knew that the hunt had to be taking a heavy toll on you, but this…

this was more than he expected.

he knew he was one of a pitiful few who saw through celestia’s false puppet, who knew you for you and not their mirage. he knew that the entire world was hellbent on erasing you from existence, that you’d been forced through your own death countless times as teyvat pulled you apart and pushed you back together far from the scene of your would-be murder. he saw the golden scars across your skin, the dried remains of blood lining the wounds you hadn’t been able to patch yet. he’d been the one to wash them away, not minding the refuse soaking into his gloves if it meant your hands could be clean.

he recognized the dull exhaustion in your eyes, the same as the ones he saw in the reflections of lakes. tired, worn, barely there, hanging on by one solitary string that was wound so tightly around a desperate hand.

you had always been his reason for continuing. when the traveller broke down and the ruler of the abyss hid from the sun, you were there. when the chasm’s mud clung to his boots and the memories in his head burned as nails forced between his eyes, you were there. his rosary was kept tight to his chest at all times, familiar prayers pulling him up in the morning and forcing him to sleep at night. he was alive for far, far too long, but you made it bearable. you were his duty, his promise.

he never once thought that he’d be yours. then again, he never thought that he’d have to defend you from the ones you once called friends. time never did pass how he expected it to.

“…leading light?”

you looked down, twirling blades of grass around your fingers. he had led you up to a mostly desolate area of sumeru, west of bayda harbor. it close enough to the sea, forest, and desert that you could reasonably make an escape through any of those routes if need be, while also providing a rather pleasant view. the sky was bleeding red and gold as the sun sank below the horizon, a remarkable sight that fell on blind eyes. there was no use trying to enjoy nature’s beauty when he still kept one hand on his sword and both ears pricked for the slightest sign of danger.

you shouldn’t have to worry about your safety. you shouldn’t have to prioritize based on how likely you are to get hurt, or how easily it would be to make an escape. you still flinched when the wind blew a little too quick, used to it heralding armored footsteps and battle cries. in another life, you were welcomed with open arms, able to enjoy yourself without constantly being on high alert. teyvat did what it could to adapt; the air was still, frozen in time, barely a bird chirping for miles. it was meant to be comforting, he thinks, but dead silence was more unnerving than any breeze.

“i mean it.” he could hear every shift in his cloak around your shoulders, the heavy fabric doing little to soothe your stress. it was yours more than it was his now, to the point he felt claustrophobic wearing it. how long had he been traveling with you? the days blurred.

“i don’t doubt you.” he never would. never could. he’s not sure, even if he somehow wanted to, that his body would allow him to treat your words as anything less than fact. “but i don’t understand what you mean.”

you were a god. the creator, the first, the one that shaped the sovereigns scales and laid the foundations of earth. you predated the archons, celestia, the very skies themselves…

and he, somehow, was a driving motivation for you?

his words must have been funny, a sharp laugh tumbling out of your mouth. it was bitter, humorless, and somewhat raspy. he made note to find some water for you later. “what else could i mean?” you turn to him, some of his confusion lost as your eyes found his. even this burnt out, deep bags set beneath them, you still managed to steal the very air in his lungs. “you’re the only reason i’m still here.”

he didn’t know what to say. what was there to be said, when you were you and he was him? when the world had abandoned you, it made sense you’d cling to what remained faithful. it was merely coincidence he happened to find you first, that’s all. coincidence that you trusted enough not to run from, coincidence that you allowed to care for your injuries. there was nothing to say, because you held nothing for him in particular, only leaning on him out of need. he had to believe that. what was he left with if that wasn’t true? an awkward truth hid beneath his well-known lies, too large for him to see the edges, let alone to contain.

“please… do not say such things again.” to ask of his god what he could not ask of himself was surely some form of heresy, as was willingly laying aside his guard when he was the only one who was tasked with protecting you. he pulled his attention from the tide below, from the rustling trees, holding faith that the world would not be needlessly cruel. he stepped forward, kneeling beside you. even up close, you still seemed painfully small. “it is your own resilience that has allowed you to persevere.”

it’s the earth that leads you from danger.

it’s the water that follows you wherever you go.

it’s the leylines that whisk you to safety.

it’s the wind that warns you of what’s to come.

it’s the you from the past that protects the you in the present.

it’s the you in the present that provides for the you in the future.

it’s you, from everywhere and everywhen, continuing to fight.

and yet you sigh. you look away, across the sea, tracing fontaines skyline. “it really isn’t. i was lucky to run into you when i did.”

you had just crossed the wall back into the forest, burning hot and shaking. he was the lucky one, in truth, to be able to pick your figure out from the sand below. perched on a high cliffside, even mitachurls were reduced to small brown flecks.

you had worn a cryo mage’s cloak, which was what initially drew his attention. abyss activity wasn’t uncommon in the area, but a cryo mage in the desert… that was cause for intrigue. he stepped forward and slid down the steep face in front of him, a slight puff of dust marking his landing in the desolate sand of old vanarana.

he didn’t know what to expect. you stumbled around the jagged remains of a tree, heading for the statue of the seven. he followed, only growing more confused. cryo and dendro did not react with each other, and there was no way to “slow” a statue. a scouting mission, maybe? but why a cryo mage, when pyro would have been far more advantageous in the case of an attack?

he leaned around the corner carefully, prepared for the sight of a staff or the chanting of abyssal magic filling the air. the entire world seemed to be holding its breath, frozen in place and waiting for some trigger to continue.

he saw none of that. you were collapsed at the foot of the statue, faint wheezing only making it to his ears by virtue of the standstill around him. you held no staff, commanded no magic, your chest barely moving with air.

he’d never seen a mage seek out the archons when dying. one hand squeezed the handle of his sword as he crept forward, ready to strike should the situation turn against him. the sand barely shifted beneath his feet, his own heart sounding too loud to his ears. you did not move, showing no signs that you had noticed his approach. he still didn’t trust it.

your cloak was tattered and torn, with thick gloves atypical of a mage. they reminded him more of hilichurl wraps, which was strange considering you wore no mask. your face was instead covered by what looked like eremite cloth, just as stained and dirtied as the rest of your clothes. what he could see looked almost human; in another life, he could believe you were a weary traveller, lost amidst the sand.

he was acting foolish. if the abyss had a human tool, he needed to figure out why. he reached down, undoing the sloppy knot of your veil and letting the brocade fall limply to the grass.

…grass. he blinked, eyes flickering between the ground and your face, not sure which was harder to believe. flowers had bloomed around you, protecting your body from the blazing sands, and he’d be a fool not to recognize the face plastered all over every bounty board.

he didn’t understand. if nothing else, he thought the archons would have enough respect for their creator to know when they were being lied to, yet before him was barely living proof of the inverse. sweat beaded along every inch of exposed skin, deep-set heat exhaustion burning you from the inside out. how could you be a threat? how could they be so blind?

he looked again, the shine of elemental sight straining his eyes, catching flickers of the dendro energy pouring from the statue. you were the only one the archons would feed. you were the only one to make the very earth break its own rules, allowing lotuses to bloom from barren soil. something painfully similar to rage threatened what remained of his rationality, and it took all he had to push it aside.

that didn’t matter. if he went off on some banal revenge quest, he’d be no better than them. your safety mattered more. he picked you up and set aside how calm his curse felt, beginning the trek back to his camp. behind him, the flowers already began to wither, losing their persistence without you to foster it.

perhaps that initial meeting was luck. but these was no luck involved in your trust in him. when you woke up and saw him at your side, you chose to trust him. you chose to believe that he was not like the others, that he would protect you, and he was forever grateful for that trust. nobody could fault you for being angry, for being spiteful about what you were put through and choosing to lash out. nobody would have the right to be upset if you chose to vent your wrath against those that had hurt you.

but you didn’t. you chose, again and again, to believe in the world. you chose to let them live their lives, even if it meant getting hurt again in the process. you chose a quiet life traveling with him over the comfortable life on your throne. to willingly choose to travel with a disgraced knight to spare your people guilt… he couldn’t decide if it was noble or reckless. either way, he was selfishly happy that he was the one to stay by your side.

“i won’t try to convince you. but, please.. do not give up on yourself so easily.” i know far too many who have died by the same hand. “the world and its opinion does not define you. only you get to decide where fate leads.”

you lean towards him, and he thinks you might have passed out- but no, your head lands on his shoulder with far too much precision. he stiffens, not used to existence without a constant pain beneath his skin. “how motivational. you tell all your soldiers that?”

his heart is beating too quickly, thoughts unusually hard to grasp. you’re the only one who could have this effect on him. he only wished it wasn’t now, when your belief in yourself was on the edge. “i mean it. none of this is your fault, and neither are celestial actions the people’s fault. i know that you are hurt, but i don’t want you to accept that main needlessly. you shouldn’t have to view your creation with such pain.” slowly, carefully, he raises the hand closer to you, doing his best not to disturb you as he settles it on your arm. he’s can only hope that the contact brings you as much comfort as it does him. “if nothing else, believe me. promise you’ll at least try.”

he doesn’t think you’ll agree. why would you make a promise to one who represents the heaven’s betrayal? why would you let him hold you close at all, when you can surely sense the bindings of those who tried to kill you wrapped tightly around his soul? he doesn’t know. all he can do is hope.

“…alright, dainslef. i promise.”

twilight has long since fallen, and yet he smiles for the first time in centuries.

[haine-kleine]

Slowly leaving the copium phase and getting genuinely curious what even was the intention behind the epilogue?

The manga could've ended with Deku punching Shigaraki into dust and nothing of value would have been lost. Why are we spending 70% of the epilogue on the society rebuilding itself back to status quo? Nothing has changed, no lesson was learned in the war against villains because they were successfully defeated. Pro heroes are alive and well, the hero kids, despite being literal war veterans at 16 years old are all still in the hero course. Now they even have their own fans.

Is it supposed to show how the hero propaganda makes child soldiers and keeps the machine running forever by glorifying the profession and demonizing the villains? Is it supposed to show the heavy burden the heroes will be carrying for the rest of their lives after getting killed the person they set out to save?

Is it supposed to be so dark and hopeless? No one won in this war, no one got what they wanted, none of the saviour trio achieved their goal of saving their villain, with two confirmed dead and one joining them soon. Even the narrative's golden boy Bakugou got his dream of competing with Deku forever taken away from him because Deku doesn't have a quirk anymore. (on that note, what Izuku is even doing in UA still when the manga has spent so much time establishing how impossible heroics are for quirkless people and not giving us even one example of a quirkless hero who did not get OFA).

Why this insistence on making both sides as miserable as possible? For a manga that started as a hopeful story about saving people, giving them hope, that sure is a choice.

Not sure what message we are supposed to take away from this other than a 'Fuck you' from the author to all of his readers.