sweatydonutfun

[cent-scratchnsniff]

it was just going to be a few warmup doodles but then she infected the rest of the page like the ever eternal and spreading spores. hod!!! hod. hod :)

[cheeseanonioncrisps]

So like, it's okay to be good and nobody is born evil and anyone can change the path they're on, yadda yadda yadda, but I actually think one of the biggest lessons Megamind learns over the course of the film is the shocking revelation that actions have consequences.

I'm not even kidding. When you put aside the whole 'evil' thing, one of Megamind's biggest flaws is his entirely screwed up notion of cause and effect.

Like, the whole reason the plot happens is because it apparently never occurred to Megamind that 'carrying out elaborate plots to kill Metroman' could ever result in 'dead Metroman'. Nor that creating a new hero with the specific motivation of defeating him, Megamind, could lead to negative consequences for him, Megamind. Or that riling said hero up into a murderous rage could have the unforeseen consequence of that hero raging around murderously.

Dude spent at least a few years kidnapping Roxanne, threatening her with alligators and lasers and various other villainous knick-knacks, only to disguise himself as somebody else and lie to her until she fell in love with this fake identity he'd created and is genuinely shocked when she is upset upon finding this out.

Not just that she did find out, but that post-her finding out he is unable to talk her into continuing the relationship.

“We don't judge a book by its cover or a person by their appearance… we judge them based on their actions.”

“Seems kinda petty, don't you think?”

Megamind may be a genius when it comes to inventions and evil plans, but he's a fucking idiot when it comes to predicting and anticipating the obvious results of his actions.

And thing is, it makes total sense why he would be like that.

He spent his childhood being consistently punished by the adults in his life, often for no reason that he could understand or even for no reason at all. As a result, he stops viewing punishment as a consequence of his behaviour and starts seeing it as a consequence of him being 'evil', which of course leads to him leaning into his evil persona and eventually becoming a supervillain.

And, as a supervillain, ironically enough, he's completely sheltered from consequence by his greatest enemy, Metroman.

Megamind doesn't need to worry about his evil plans hurting any citizens, because Metroman will use his powers to save them. Megamind doesn't have to worry about the damage he does to the city, because Metroman can fix it.

Megamind does in theory have to worry about social consequences for his behaviour, but the social consequences are being locked in prison and having everybody hate him which is like, the default status quo of his existence since he was a baby.

He literally calls the prison as 'home', a word he does not use to refer to his Evil Lair or indeed anywhere else in the film barring his home planet. Going there is an inconvenience, maybe, but it's not really a punishment. It's where he lives.

Metroman's 'death' changes all that.

Not only does one of Megamind's evil plans finally destroy something that (seemingly) can't be fixed, but he's then turned loose on the city with no superhero to run around after him cleaning up his mess.

Now, if he steals all the artwork in the gallery, then Metro City will no longer have artwork in it's gallery, and people (Roxanne) will miss it and be upset. If he doesn't take care to clean the streets then the streets… will be dirty, and people (Roxanne) will be negatively affected.

If he gives a random, unstable, person superpowers and then goes out of his way to piss that person off, then that person can't be guaranteed upon to “play the game” just because that's what Metroman did, and people (Megamind… then everybody else) will be negatively affected.

And the flipside of this is that, by the end of the film, he wins the battle because he realises "hey, I can change this". If his negative actions have negative consequences then he can choose to do the positive thing instead and save the city.

[kaelidascope]

Director's commentary on Something About Moths and a Flame, please!

Oh this outta be fun LOL OKAY

So the overall story of how this fic was even born in the first place stemmed from 2 things. I had an idea to write about a shameless self-indulgence about having an overabundance of experience with cismen with hardly any queer experience. And the little queer experiences Blake did have were not good reference points. Using myself as a default source of plot devices (lmao) I self-inserted the desire to get the fuck out of my current state and wanting to move somewhere north to start over. Bing bang boom, you got a basic background and motive for Blake

I honestly should've expected the fic would be more than just 'bisexual character experiences sex with a seasoned sapphic character' and trying to manifest positive things in my life by writing it out in fic format (who doesn't do that, really. If anyone says they don't they're a liar). Everything I make always turns out to be something way more than it's original concept so what I ended up with here was a story drawing on personal elements and wanting for an outcome that probably wont happen, but it's nice seeing it happen to the bees anyway

Blake's feelings about relationships represent a time in my life where my opinion was exactly hers. After a lengthy discussion with Sawrin over dissecting this fic, I've come to the realization that Yang also represents a time frame of opinions as well. Only Yang's core design comes from a time waaaaay in the past that honestly, I had forgotten existed. It's nice to see it manifest despite being buried, and certainly gives me something to think about when I reread it from time to time.

Readers of MM and Moths can draw lines between Blake questioning why things are so easy when she's with Yang. It's the same principle across the board for most bee fics that Blake's past hasn't been kind to her. It's an alien feeling to suddenly have things be so easy, but difficult to accept they're easy at the same time. I tried to picture how the fuck would I react if I were in this perfect dream scenario and how stupid would it be after the realization hits. Blake and Yang have been dating this whole time and just never accepted it for what it was based on what other people have lead them to believe what a relationship had to be.

The talk they have when Yang's AC is out and they're laying in her bed with the windows open is in reference to a talk I once had that didn't have the outcome I wanted. It carries the same essence of dismay - both parties knowing they want each other but because of the boundaries at play, cannot have what they want. But in this version it's not one sided.

Overall, it was nice getting able to write from a quietly honest place without having to worry about literally every other realistic factor ever. This is about as textbook 'I wrote this for me cus I wanted something that applied to me' as it gets. The ending is my dream scenario. I fucking hate living with partners I can't do it anymore JKNFKGNKJGFN but it's not easy finding someone else who'd agree with me. So the bees get my lost dream of permanent independence. I wrote this thing in 3 days and I was morbidly sick while I was doing it, too. So I'm sure it's littered with grammatical errors and what have you. But my best friend has always been completely head over heels about this work, and it astounds me how much he sings its praise. I'm always genuinely surprised when others find something to relate to in this work as well. I never expected it to be anything more than just a glance. It's not even smut heavy. I didn't think people cared about fics like that LOL (silly, I know) but I am glad I put it out there and it got the response it did.

[writebackatya]

i wanted to ask, why beauty and the beast as your favorite disney movie? do you have any specific memories with it?

There might be some childhood bias but man I do love the Disney Renaissance era. I was born near the end of that era so I did have a certain fondness. Mind you I have vivid memories watching both Tarzan and Mulan in theaters and the rest on VHS and DVD with my siblings

For the longest time I’d say Aladdin was my favorite Disney movie of all time and I think it might be the one I watched the most, but when I was in my teens Beauty and the Beast became my favorite because it’s just the best in my humble opinion

I love everything about it!

The music numbers are wonderful! The Disney Renaissance in general has a lot of wonderful music!

Every movie from that era I will admit have some bangers. The Little Mermaid, Aladdin, The Lion King, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Hercules, and Mulan; all great stuff! But I admit all of them have song or two that just don’t really do it for me as much as their others. Doesn’t mean I hate them though. (The only songs I genuinely hate out of these movies are Les Poissons from The Little Mermaid and A Guy Like You from The Hunchback of Notre Dame)

But Beauty and the Beast! Every song is a banger and not a drag and moves the story forward! First you got it’s opening number: Belle! I just love it’s energy and how it introduces its main characters! It’s so good it gets another reprise and you don’t know how often I’ve sung “I want adventure in the great wide somewhere” in public. Twice. Once at work

And Gaston!? An amazing villain song. It’s so ridiculous, makes you wanna sing along and do all the voices, and it captures our villain’s scummy ways so well! And the reprise!? So good! Just love how sinister it becomes while still being so jovial!

Be Our Guest!? Yes please! The supporting cast in this movie is so good and this song is a great showcase of these characters, specifically Lumiére and Cogsworth! Lumiére with his excellent showmanship and Cogsworth just slowly getting into while being on the end of a lot of slapstick! Don’t worry, Mrs. Potts will get her time in the spotlight soon but we get a small taste of her singing talents in this one!

And how about Something There!? Whenever it’s a beautiful winter day this song will always play in my head! And it’s funny to think that one of the previous scenes before it was the Beast fighting off those wolves in the snow! When all of that was kinda scary and he was still seen as somewhat of a threat! But look at him now! Birds love him! He has a gentle side! And he sucks at snowball fighting! It’s funny! Oh and his voice! So damn good! And Belle’s singing is still just as beautiful as ever

If we’re talking extended edition I do really enjoy Human Again which is a great addition to the soundtrack! The beast’s servants deserve their own song singing about what they want

And now. The main event. The titular song. Beauty and the Beast sung by Mrs. Potts herself!! God this song is so beautiful! Angela Lansbury’s voice is phenomenal; it’s so loving and caring and soft! (Also absolutely great blend of 2D and 3D animation in this scene! So well done!)

Funny to think about that the final song (besides the reprise) is the Mob Song. But yeah! This song is damn good too! Like I love the Beast but this fear mongering song is such a banger and shows Gaston’s manipulative side so damn well. And let’s not forget the servant’s side as they head into the final battle! Good stuff!

I love all the characters in this movie! Belle is a great protagonist, the Beast has development that you just love to see happen, Gaston is the most fun villain to ever come from Disney, and the supporting characters are great at stealing scenes

I remember there was a time on the internet where everyone just seemed to have this whole “Yo! Fuck the Disney Renaissance movies” and just had a whole bunch bad takes such as Belle being a horrible person, Gaston is a good person, the infamous Stockholm syndrome take. I guess that pushback just made me love it more. Not to say the movie shouldn’t have its critics but i just felt those arguments were always weak and either ignored details from the movie or just added something that wasn’t in the movie

In the 8th grade, I was in my school’s musical of the Disney version! I played Monsieur D’Arque (the asylum guy) and my big solo moment was “He’ll wreak havoc on our village if we let him wonder free”. I was friends with a lot of the leads already so this musical was a lot of fun for me

And recently on my trip to Disney World I got to eat at the Beast’s Castle

So yeah. I love this movie. It’s my favorite. But I admit there is some bias to it but who cares!? There’s always bias when it comes to opinions

[amalgamezz]

About your aro post in your tags you said you don’t care for any loves (romantic, familial [<- I don’t feel that one too :D] etc.) does that go for friendships as well? Or are you more of a person who doesn’t care for connection at all? I hope I worded that right…

heya, thank you for this ask, and no worries, your wordings are fine! sorry, this will be a long one because my audhd demands that i should provide full contexts 😔

as i interacted and got to know more about aplatonic and loveless communities, i found a certain solidarity/kinship with them. ever since i was in elementary, friendship has never been something i actively seek myself. i still got along well with classmates. my relationships with coworkers are chill and good. i have mutuals and friendly acquaintances here and there to talk about our shared interests. i try to maintain a good relationship with my family because capitalism sucks ass, especially for single people. in a way, this, too, is how i practice relationship anarchy — to give each casual and non-casual relationship i have a function and learn to appreciate them instead of putting the burdens on one or two committed relationships. for me, friendship has become a label for happy coincidences born out of those relationships after long and frequent interactions, if both parties desire a name for it. i have some positive connections with friends who i trust with my life, and i would mourn intensively should i lose them, but tbh, im not sure if i would personally call it "love".

i was lovequeer before i am loveless. im actually still considering myself lovequeer in a way that i strongly believe that love doesnt have to be romantic and that no kind of love is superior to the other. my personal relationship with love is complicated, but mostly sour. as an aro, i am a fierce defender of non-romantic loves. it annoys me greatly when people casually throw amatonormative phrases such as "there is no platonic explanation for this" or "friends dont do that" around. it is usually a hopeless and lonely battle because people dont really care about "not all loves are romantic" until you reject the concept of love altogether. more often than not, it becomes a gotcha towards aros who express their frustration with obsession over love by society.

this frustration, too, drew me closer to the concept of lovelessness. lovelessness means different things to different people, but for me, its the rejection of love being a superior, necessary, or moral trait of a human being. i had a knee-jerk reaction at first when i learned the term, but the more i read about it and introspect, the more it resonates with me. i remember how my parents hit me when i was a kid. i remember my aunt chewed me out in front of my entire family for expressing my wish to stay single and childless. i remember being driven to tears as my dad sneakily threw out a gift from my friend that i hung on my car and replaced it with a rosary. when asked why, they said because they wanted what was best for me. because they wanted me to be happy. because they loved me. it all sounded contradictory, but i have been with them long enough to know that they were being genuine. i dont wanna think its not a real love because i dont find it useful and more often than not, it only makes me question myself if i have been a fair evaluator and get guilty when i think im not. instead, i just have to accept that good intentions dont always bring good outcomes. their love is real, but its like a sun that burns and hurts more intensively the closer i get to it. i started coming to terms with love being a neutral but strong emotional motive that drives humans to do something — just like pleasure, joy, anger, sadness, envy, etc. whether you do good, bad, or neither because of it solely depends on you. i can acknowledge that they love me, but that doesnt mean they should be able to use it as an excuse to hurt me. this applies to all kinds of love.

i have nothing against love or the people who cherish it, but as i start dissecting and understanding more about love, it becomes less and less significant in my life. i start to realise that i dont need to love someone to bring them happiness or do good for them. i dont need to love my friends to care for or emotionally support them when they need it. i dont need to love my mutuals or even strangers to consider donating for their groceries. i dont need to love the victims of war to condemn the hideous crimes committed against them by some certain govts. love doesnt make me human. i just simply am, and im happy with the loveless relationships/connections i currently have.

[bushs-world]

Loki's evolution (from bad to good)

Just thinking about the fact how Loki went from an antagonist and morally bad person in Thor to a genuinely good person in the series. His character growth in the series is always so special to me, seeing him shed all his villianous qualities and flaws, his selfishness and his total disregard to other people's safety and genuinely growing into a person who cares about lives lost and the damage and suffering caused to normal people.

In the movies, Loki always had a total disregard for innocent lives and was always willing to sacrifice a few people if it helped him or benefitted him. For him, other people and their lives were expendable and he was not scared to throw people into danger if it helped him get what he wanted. Sure, he didn't go around wanting to kill for fun but he was more than willing to push a few to their deaths for his own advantage.

In Thor, he unleashed frost giants in the weapons vault, without caring about the guards who died, unleashed the destroyer on Earth again without caring if humans got hurt and then tried to commit genocide. In Avengers, he unleashed a whole army of chitauri on New York and happily pulled out eyeballs. In TDW, he helped the Kurse even tho he knew people will be killed. In Ragnarok, he preferred staying in Sakaar than save the Asgardians from Hela n was willing to capture Thor for his benefit.

But in the series, we see Loki show real regard to innocent lives. He was ashamed of the deaths he caused in Avengers and admitted he didn't enjoy killing people. He was concerned about the people of Lamentis being left behind and only the wealthy getting in the ark. He was worried over the old woman who chose to stay behind, and was worried over the lies told to the TVA workers. Sure, he isn't a total hero who goes and rescues people but he shows empathy and regard to innocent lives put in danger rather than how he rarely cared in the movies. Then in episode 6, his only driving force when he's stopping Sylvie from killing HWR is that they might unleash something much worse. For a guy who was willing to burn everything for his own needs, it was heartwarming to see him care about the universe being in balance and wanting to take the right decision.

Another thing I love is how he showed remorse and guilt over his mistakes. In TDW, Loki doesn't feel any remorse or guilt for the lives lost on Earth. He goes on justifying his actions to both Frigga and Odin, thinking he was justified in his attack. Instead he kept pushing the blame on others or denying any responsibility by trying to use Odin's past as a shield. Its only when his mother died did he start to change.

In the series however, Loki is shown to be ashamed when Mobius shows him a recording of new york. He looks away in shame, he is sad when Mobius tells him he is born to cause pain and suffering. He's ashamed when Miss Minutes and HWR bring up the battle of New York. He even accepts to Mobius he doesn't like killing people.

He shows so much growth and development from the first episode itself but it's not until he meets Sylvie that he really starts to grow. The thing that makes Sylvie so great and inspiring for him is that she isn't bound by the same flaws and shortcomings like him. She isn't looking for power or validation, she is fighting against a fascist organisation and is trying to give people free will. She shows Loki he can be more than what the world thinks he can be and her presence inspires him to be better.

That's not to say that Sylvie doesn't have flaws of her own. She also has their issues, trauma and flaws to work through and funnily it's Loki who can reach out to her and help her out. That's what I love about sylki that they are perfectly balanced and compliment each other.

But the biggest growth imo is how loki addressed women. He really went from threatening assault on Jane and calling Natasha a mewling quim to addressing Ravonna as madam 🤣🤣🤣

[ileftherbackhome]

I dont like the mainstream gaylor reputation theory so I'm making my own.

Reputation starts with so it goes... and not ...ready for it? because reputation is about learning how to let go of fame in order to find love.

1989 was the height of closeted taylor swift and after kissgate (the great war), the relationship between taylor and karlie was never the same. Kissgate showed Karlie that Taylor would always pick fame over her and over time, she grew to resent taylor for it.

So it goes... is a song about how "soulmates" don't exist. The entire song is clouded in funeral imagery and so it goes comes from a book where the literal meaning of it is that "death is a part of life, people die but they live on in your memory so they never really die" because for the tramafladorians (sp?) people are alive and dead all at once and present, past, and future are all experienced at once by the alien species.

The rest of the musical journey you go through is Taylor dealing with the pain of fucking up her relationship with karlie for fame (something that ended up biting her in the ass at the end of the day... she tried so hard to be a good girl and in the end, it didn't matter. She was abused anyways) and figuring out how not let fame get in the way of her new relationship with Joe.

Gorgeous is a meet cute song that originally was born out of fear and worry that she's not what the person is looking for in the end, getaway car is about how she used the media to her advantage to escape the confines of her old life, king of my heart is realizing you're fully committed to this new person and you've come to accept that, dancing with our hands tied is about the anxiety that comes with fame fucking up your relationship born out of kissgate anxiety, dress is talking directly to your partner about the media perceptions of your past relationships, this is why we can't have nice things is about learning how to find genuine people who see the real you and letting go of all the pretenders, call it what you want is about learning to be okay with media perceptions of your relationships because you know the truth, new years day is about finding out what a relationship is actually about and how its showing up to do the mundane things more than the exciting things, ready for it is about asking your partner if they can handle all the fame nonsense and tabloid rumors, end game is realizing that none of your other relationships would have worked out in the end + realizing that you don't actually want them to have worked out anymore, I did something bad is about learning to be okay with people calling you names for being true to who you are and letting them be wrong about you, don't blame me is about learning that there is nothing wrong with the way you love, delicate is about how relationships are delicate and can easily be steered off the road if you're not careful, and look what you made me do is a satirical look back at how hard it was to come to all these revelations but how it was worth it in the end because you became a stronger person for it.

I also think a lot of these songs are about her coming to terms with her sexuality (I go through phases when it comes to love is so bisexual coded I'm mad she left that off gorgeous honestly) as well because there's a whole lot of being okay with being "bad" (in pre-rep taylor, I would say that bad is defined as anything that brings controversial publicity).

[networksupported]

Yup, that is the sound of his anger rapidly deflating as Cas sniffles and shivers under the blanket. Bradley's expression starts to reflect the guilt he feels for simply jumping to conclusions and drenching him in cold water.

He had just been so hurt, thinking Cas couldn't care less about him to come find him, let alone offer an explanation.

Bradley moves closer, picking up the towel and twisting it in his hands anxiously.

"Alright, I promise. I won't laugh or make fun of you or tell anyone. I want to know what happened to you, Cas. I was out of my mind with worry. I thought you were asleep at first but as the months passed I started to wonder if you were even alive anymore or if something happened and you had died all alone without anyone knowing where to find you- no one told me anything. Not when you left and not when you came back. Please just tell me."

cas bites down on his bottom lip, his own eyes downcast in the contemplation of it all.

he was, quite honestly, beginning to feel bad for putting all of this guilt onto bradley. it was actually a bit of a foreign situation-- not because he was unused to feeling bad, which he was, but because he was now having to grapple with the fact that it was really more of a pavlovian reaction- he was certainly not meaning to invoke as much guilt as was truly being expressed here, he was simply used to having to do so.

bradley genuinely felt bad for him for factors beyond his control, and that was just...weird.

did he really look that shitty?

> i did.

cas mumbles after a long while, the words seeming to take a lot to announce.

> i died, i mean. i wasn't nearly alone enough at the time, and i-- don't know if anyone knew where to find me, or even where it was i wound up.

> i mean, it was hell. obviously. literally. i hadn't been expecting anything nicer. not even a second chance.

> but if you were given a map of the offices and you had to point to hell on it- well, it might be more of a matter of personal preference than fact.

> and it was-- well, it was horrible. sure you can guess that bit. i don't wanna go into the detailing of it, so you are just gonna have to guess, actually.

> but it was more than that. i mean, i piss certain people off with just my existence. and, uh, more by being myself. and even more for having to follow on in 432s footsteps. its a little like being born in a hole- a deep hole, one that's clearly taken a lot to dig- and just knowing there's something on the surface, there's something that hates you and something that wants you dead, and you just have to keep- you have to make the hole deeper. you have to get away from it.

> i'm a coward, and i'm used to running. i've built myself around it.

> but there- there i couldn't run, i couldn't escape, and it all- they all- caught up to me.

> even when i managed to claw myself out of there with some rather... unprecedented means, i knew they could follow. i knew they were. and if i went to you- or thursday, or anyone, then i didn't know what i'd bring with me.

> what could hurt you because i was dumb enough to let it.

> and i just- i couldn't let that happen to you again.

> i wish i could've told you. i wish someone else had, but-- i don't know, i managed to die in the stupidest place possible, to the stupidest person possible. i don't know if anyone knew the story enough to explain anything about it.

> anyone good, i mean.

[voycurism]

Got a bit of Stella brain rot this evening, so here’s some of my personal head canons for my lovely little mourning dove!~

Stella collects tea sets, she loves going to the hell equivalent of thrift stores to find older, maybe even damaged sets and attempts to restore them. Stolas gave her a galaxy themed set as a wedding present and its one of her favorite, she never uses it because she’s afraid to damage it.

Speaking of thrifting, Stella enjoys taking Octavia along on her thrifting outing, the two of them often visit antique stores together and love to collect pawned off heirlooms. The two of them love to speculate and develop stories of where they believe the heirlooms came from and how they ended up at this very store.

Similar to Octavia, Stella has a fascination for taxidermy and for a while in her youth would collect dead bugs and attempt to preserve them. 

Used to read to Octavia to put her to sleep, her favorite book to read to Via was the Grim Brother’s Fairy Tales. She gifted Via the complete book collection as a birthday present one year. It’s one of Via’s cherished possessions. 

Stella has a loud, infectious laugh a type of laugh you wouldn’t ever expect to come out of royalty. She was ridiculed for it by her parents, being told it wasn’t becoming of a lady to chortle so she opts to a proper quiet giggle when around other royals. Because of this belittlement she’s become quite self conscious of her laugh and only genuinely laughs on rare occasions or when she’s comfortable around someone.

Stella adores Stolas’ terrible sense of humor and his awful dad jokes, though due to her insecurities towards her laugh she tries hard to keep from laughing out loud when out and about, however sometimes she can’t help it. 

Stella has a couple hobbies she enjoys and indulges in during her free time such as flower pressing, playing the piano, thrifting, gardening, calligraphy, and party planning.

Stella loves planning parties and will often times aid other higher ups and royal families in planning social events, charity events, and parties for any kind of occasion. She’s planned quite a few odd social events because of this, but its hell so that’s to be expected after all!

Has a strained relationship with her family due to their belittlement and ridicule. They cared for Stella but of course were more worried about molding her into a proper young lady so they could marry her off to a higher standing family, so their relationship now adays tends to be a little tense and strained. Continues to keep in contact with them out of obligation, and in a sense guilt.

Stella truly wished for a large family, however it was extremely difficult for the couple to conceive and Stella suffered multiple miscarriages. Via was a miracle in herself and the young couple were lucky enough to have carried one baby to term. After Via was born Stella suffered with some extreme postpartum depression. Because of all these hardships they did not attempt to have anymore children after Octavia. 

Even though Stella and Stolas’ union was due to an arranged marriage, Stella never despised Stolas. Even though she hated having her autonomy taken from her at such a young age she still strived to be a good wife to Stolas in hopes that the two of them might be able to learn to properly love each other regardless of the circumstances. 

At some point Stella believes she truly did fall in love with Stolas, so when the truth came out that Stolas had cheated, the betrayal hit her deep. She spiraled into a deep well of self doubt and depression. She had done everything she needed to right? After all, she had done everything her family had told her, she had been the perfect loving wife yet he still cheated. What was wrong with her? Was it her fault? Was she not good enough? What was it about that Imp that Stolas adored? How could he do this to their family? To her? To Octavia? Soon enough Stella became withdrawn and cold, choosing to keep her distance from Stolas all together. It didn’t help that Stolas appeared to harbor no guilt for his infidelity only continuing to rub salt in the wound as he continued to publicly pursue the affections of his impish little plaything.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

This Game of Yours

Father of Mine – Part 1 and Part 2

Jason was beautiful.

And somehow that scar that went from the right corner of his mouth up to his temple only made him that much more beautiful to Y/N.

Those blue eyes were the same color of water on a stormy day in the Irish sea. And somehow Y/N knew they held the same tempestuousness.

The white streak weaved with his jet black hair so naturally that Y/N would’ve believed he was born with it.

His shoulders were so broad, making his 6’3 height feel even more imposing. He had a presence. People noticed every time he walked into a room. It made Y/N wonder how he was ever able to sneak up on people as Red Hood.

He was wearing a black hoodie underneath his black moto jacket.

Y/N knew Jason didn’t give a shit about fashion. Yet he was well-dressed without any effort – more so than most of the models Y/N had shot throughout her career.

Not being able to control herself any longer, Y/N raised her camera and took a photo.

Jason stopped surveying their surroundings and his gaze snapped to her.

“What do you think you’re doing?” 

But his growl didn’t scare her in the slightest.

“Anyone who’s by me when I have a camera is at risk of getting their picture taken. No one is safe. Not even you,” she answered his question unapologetically.

Y/N was working on a personal passion project for her next show. Her collection would be about the poverty and crime of Gotham. Half of the photos would show the heaviest crime areas of the city. And the other half would expose the lifestyles of the wealthiest people in Gotham.

Why did so many suffer from the same system that helped the rich get even richer?

When Bruce found out Y/N was going to Crime Alley and the Bowery by herself, he was visibly upset.

But he realized that Y/N would do as she pleased, so his plan b was to give her protective detail.

However, Y/N didn’t know that Jason had volunteered, almost immediately.

Instead, all she heard was Jason grimly telling her, “You’re lucky you haven’t been fucking murdered yet.”

She had only responded with a roll of her eyes.

“I’m not your escort so you can take my picture. I’m here so you don’t get raped or murdered.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you have a way with words?”

His only response was a glare.

Jason loved playing this game. The game of pretending to be irritated with her when actually he was absolutely infatuated with Y/F/N Y/L/N.

“The easiest way to stop getting your picture taken is to always be the one holding the camera,” Y/N added with a smirk and wink.

Jason didn’t answer, only thinking what a shame it was that no one got to photograph her.

Suddenly, the sunlight hit the top of his head perfectly, creating a halo around that thick and messy hair of his.

Y/N snapped another photo.

“Will you stop?” He warned.

It only succeeded in making her laugh.

And that just excited his heart even more.

“Jason, you were born to get your photo taken.” 

There was no joke underneath her words, only sincerity.

“Whatever,” he mumbled.

Jason had a hard time believing that. His skin was riddled with scars. And he was convinced that she’d be singing a different song if she saw his chest, with its thick autopsy scar amongst the so many others. The absolute last word he’d use to describe himself was beautiful. Strong and imposing? Yes. But never beautiful – or any other positive adjective, for that matter.

“I’m not kidding. If you ever want to stop the whole vigilante thing, you can easily become a model.”

Y/N had noticed it as soon as Jason took of his helmet that night. His domino mask had done nothing to prevent her from noting the obvious.

It didn’t take long for Y/N to realize Jason wasn’t like his “brothers.”

“Brothers.” What a strange word.

Should she consider all of them as hers?

Only Damian was actually related to her – and technically he was only her half-brother.

Y/N had watched Jason get on his motorcycle and leave the cave that night she’d almost died.

She’d agreed to stay for dinner and get to know everyone. And a part of her brain was excited to get a better read on the masked man that sat by her bedside as she’d recovered.

“He’s not staying?” Y/N had asked Bruce as he guided her to the stairs that led back up to the manor.

He only shook his head, but she noticed the disappointed expression.

Soon she found out that Jason was the black sheep of this strange family that had taken her in.

Dick was the one who told her about Jason’s dark past. All of it seemed unbelievable: murdered by Joker and brought back to life from a mysterious pit. Only to return to the family who appeared to have replaced him and never sought vengeance on Jason’s behalf. 

But it was true; Y/N had seen no lie in Dick’s eyes when he filled her in.

Suddenly there was yelling coming from around the corner.

Without hesitation, Jason shoved Y/N behind him.

He reached for one of his guns and then realized that he didn’t have any.

Y/N was rather vocal about hating them, claiming they made her extremely uncomfortable.

Her expression alone as she said it was enough for Jason to swallow his stubbornness and leave the things at home.

Bruce was rather taken aback by the gesture. Nothing he’d ever said was enough to get Jason to do that.

A gang of young men came marching around the corner like they owned the place…because they did. This was their territory.

Jason immediately recognized them as some of the Russian mob.

Despite pulling Y/N behind him, they still caught sight of her and looked her up and down without an ounce of shame.

“Hey, beautiful. How you doing?”

“Продолжай идти, придурки,” Jason growled at them.

He was outnumbered. But there must’ve been something about his body language that made the gang realize they shouldn’t pick a fight with him. Maybe it was the muscles or his height or that he looked like he wouldn’t even blink before murdering them.

So they just…walked away. Some of them mumbled threats or insults at him. But they realized they shouldn’t even so much as look at Y/N.

A split second before they were gone, Y/N took a picture of Jason.

“Really?” He asked.

She shrugged. “You look like a different person when you’re protective.”

Y/N was beautiful.

Jason watched as she passionately explained her work to a potential buyer.

He recognized the man as a local politician – luckily, one of the few that hadn’t been corrupted from this shitty city.

Y/N had the intimidating energy of her father, but the kind eyes of her mother. At least, that was what Bruce had told everyone, and they all took his word for it.

She wore a stylish white jumpsuit that made her look like a 1980s villain and black stiletto heels. 

Jason watched as men cowered in her presence, hating the fact that she proudly stood taller than them. She was just one less woman they could intimidate or manipulate – and they couldn’t stand it.

But Jason loved watching the emasculation in real time.

The bastards didn’t deserve her anyway.

Dick was one of the very few men Jason knew who didn’t blink at a woman towering over him. In fact, his older brother had a track record of preferring it.

“Surprised to see you here,” Bruce said beside him, catching Jason watching Y/N.

“Well, I was her personal bodyguard through all this. Figured I should see if it was worth me wasting my time or not.” Then he tossed back his champagne and slammed it on the tray of a waiter passing by. “Plus, free alcohol.”

Bruce just quirked an eyebrow, silently telling Jason that he knew he was lying.

“Are you buying something?” Jason asked, trying to change the subject.

“I have been strictly forbidden,” Bruce sighed.

Jason chuckled.

He knew if Bruce had his way, he’d buy every single on of Y/N’s pieces.

“I have to know,” Bruce began. “What exactly is holding you back?”

Jason finally ripped his gaze away from Y/N to give Bruce a questioning look.

“What are you talking about?”

“Y/N. You care about her.”

“All of us do,” Jason brushed off. “Even the demon spawn.”

Bruce knew there wasn’t a chance Jason would admit his feelings – especially to him.

“Not that I think you care…but you have my approval.”

Little did Bruce know, Jason did care.

Jason had convinced himself that their rocky relationship and past fights meant that Bruce would die before he let Jason be anywhere near his daughter.

And Jason could hardly blame him.

He didn’t deserve to be loved. He lost that right after he died and came back a monster. And that was the story Jason told himself over and over again.

So he would love Y/N from afar. And hope she would pick someone who was worthy of her love.

“She’s basically my sister,” Jason groaned in fake disgust.

It was quite the performance.

Bruce narrowed his eyes. “We both know that isn’t what’s stopping you. And you’ve made it clear you don’t consider us your family.”

“Whatever, Bruce.”

Jason walked away, having enough of the subject.

“What was that about?” Clark asked as he joined Bruce’s side.

“Jason refusing to let himself be happy,” Bruce sighed.

Clark already knew what Bruce was talking about. He’d seen Y/N and Jason dancing around each other for months now. He’d never really seen Y/N take an interest in anyone before, so it was all new for Clark.

“Don’t worry. Y/N won’t let him get away with it for much longer,” Clark said through a smirk. “She gets what she wants.”

And Bruce believed him.

“It doesn’t bother you – the two of them together?” Clark asked with genuine curiosity.

“Jason reminds me every day that I’m not his father. And I’m hardly Y/N’s.” A soft smile formed on Bruce’s lips. “He’ll look after her. And she…I think she’d be good for him. I just want them to be happy. Both of them.”

——

Jason headed home rather early.

He’d never actually went to say congratulations or even hello to Y/N.

Every time he was about to go over, someone else stole her attention. He didn’t want to get in the way of her talking to potential buyers or even just friends.

Jason was just about to make himself something to eat when there was a knock at his door.

He froze.

Very few people knew where his apartment was.

Jason grabbed a gun and tiptoed to his front door.

With a peak through the peephole, he let out a irritated sigh.

Jason whipped the door open, “You’re lucky I didn’t shoot your head off.”

“Maybe don’t own guns and you wouldn’t have to worry about shit like that,” Y/N snapped back.

“What are you doing here?”

“You come to my gallery opening and don’t even say hi?” Y/N accused as she stepped around him and into the apartment, not waiting for an invitation.

Jason eyed the paper bag that was in one of her hands.

“By all means, come on in,” he called sarcastically as he slammed the door behind her.

Y/N started searching through his cabinets. “Where are your glasses?”

“The one to your right. What are you doing here?”

Y/N had the brightest and almost mischievous smile as she pulled a bottle of champagne from the paper bag.

“I brought this as my thanks for you making sure I don’t – and I quote – ‘get raped and murdered.’”

Jason glared at her.

Here was the game again.

Y/N being charming and hilariously provoking..and Jason pretending like he hadn’t fallen for her.

She poured them both a glass. They weren’t flutes or coupes, but she couldn’t care less.

“We’re chugging these, by the way,” Y/N informed Jason as she handed him a glass.

He sighed, but obediently clinked his glass with hers and tossed it back.

Barely giving them a second, Y/N immediately refilled them.

“So, why didn’t you come over and say hi?” She repeated.

“Didn’t want to bother you,” Jason mumbled with a shrug.

She narrowed her eyes at his answer. “You’ve never bothered me before, Jason.”

Now he felt guilty.

Jason bowed his head. “I should’ve come and talked to you,” he agreed. “Your work…it looked – it’s amazing, Y/N. Congratulations.”

Apparently Y/N hadn’t expected such a sincere compliment from him, and she was stunned to silence.

“Thank you,” she managed to whisper once she’d recovered.

She cleared her throat, trying to maintain her edge. “And really…thank you for being my own little security detail.”

If Jason was healthy about expressing is thoughts and feelings, he would’ve told her that it was the highlight of his weeks. That he looked forward to her calls or texts, telling him that she was going to photograph another shady area. “Be there or don’t. I’m going no matter what,” she’d text him with her usual snark.

But Jason didn’t express his thoughts and feelings.

He kept them bottled up – with the same energy he used to keep Y/N at a distance.

So instead, Jason said, “If it wasn’t me, one of the others would’ve done it.”

Y/N winced slightly at that.

‘You’re such a fucking asshole,’ Jason told himself.

“You know…we can see each other even you’re not my bodyguard.”

Jason was impressed by her boldness. But she didn’t know what she was doing. She didn’t understand that he wasn’t good. He couldn’t play the loving boyfriend role. She belonged with someone like Dick or Clark – or literally anyone but him. And Jason was willing to be an asshole to make sure she understood that.

Y/N took a step closer to him, invading his personal space.

Without breaking eye contact, she threw back her second glass of champagne and then placed it on the nearest counter space.

She stepped even closer.

This was simultaneously Jason’s worst nightmare and most desired dream.

Her eyes moved from his eyes to his lips.

But before she could make her final push, Jason took a step back and cleared his throat.

He looked down at the ground as he said, “You should go.”

When he looked up, he expected to find Y/N heartbroken or embarrassed.

But she was neither.

No. She looked irritated.

Not because she wasn’t getting what she wanted, but because she was sick of his games.

Y/N sighed and stepped back. “Fine.”

Jason rubbed his face in frustration as she grabbed her purse and started for the door she had walked through only minutes ago.

She opened it and paused.

“You know what? No. Fuck that,” Y/N snapped before slamming the door closed.

She whipped around and strutted back to him with purpose.

Jason was suspended with both fervor and awe.

Y/N grabbed his face and pulled him down to her lips.

All self control went out the window. Jason couldn’t continue his game. It was all over for him.

He kissed her back almost immediately. How could he not?

Y/N bit his lip slightly, making him hiss in surprise. It was his punishment for making her wait all this time.

Eventually they needed a moment to breathe.

But Y/N didn’t let go of his face when their lips finally parted.

“Choose your next words very carefully,” she breathed.

He swallowed nervously. “You’re kind of fucking terrifying. You know that?”

Her smile was pure evil.

Apparently this was the right response.

“Are you done being an idiot?” She asked.

He nodded quickly.

Her hands moved down and then lingered on his neck, tracing the bottom lines of his jaw.

She smiled again and then looked him up and down.

“What?” He questioned.

“Nothing,” she laughed. “I’m just…I’m not used to being shorter than men.”

“Is that the only reason you like me? Huh? My height?” Jason goaded.

“Of course not,” Y/N scoffed. “It was the whole ‘I look like I could murder everyone and I can, but deep down I’m a big softie’ that did it for me.”

Jason’s grip tightened on her waist. “Oh, yeah? You’re one to talk…”

“Me?!” She yelped. “I couldn’t kill anyone, even if my life depended on it.”

“Maybe. But your terrifying in basically every other way.”

Y/N laughed at that.

Jason couldn’t stop himself from smiling at the sound

“So…still want me to leave?” She asked.

And this time, she would if that’s really what he wanted.

“Fuck no,” Jason answered, almost threateningly.

Then, for good measure, he picked her up by the back of her thighs and carried her to the couch, before he started to kiss her once again.

Y/N knew things weren’t always going to be this simple.

Jason had his demons. 

And honestly, so did she. They were nothing like his. And maybe they were silly in comparison. But she wouldn’t be the perfect partner. Just like he wouldn’t be. 

They’d drive each other crazy. But it would be the good kind of crazy.

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

+ Childhood

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers DARK FATE ー Carla Ecstasy [Prologue]

[Prologue] [01] [02] [03] [04] [05] [06] [07] [08] [09] [10] [Epilogue]

ー The scene starts in Yui’s bedroom in Banmaden

Yui: ーー Haah, what should I do...?

( He told me I can go, so there’s really no reason for me to remain here. I know that, but still... )

( I don’t know what to do. Not because this is the Demon World...But because I’m unsure about leaving Carla-san behind all by himself. )

( Somehow...It doesn’t sit right with me... )

( ...Is it because he’s ill...? Because I feel bad for him...? But...More than anything... )

( It bothers me...How sad he looked. )

( It made me realize that perhaps...He has always seemed somewhat lonely... )

( I do think I’ll be in a world of trouble if I were to say that to him...Butーー )

Yui: ...Endzeit, it was...? Isn’t there a medicine to cure it or something...?

( I can’t imagine that immortals would rely on medicine in the first place but...There might be something that can be done. )

ーー I’ll look for it...

( It might be a wasted effort, but...It’s much better than simply leaving without doing anything. )

( I can’t go while these doubts remain in my heart. )

ー The scene shifts to the guest room

Yui: That being said, this castle is huge...

( I guess it’s true that a bunch of Founders were living here in the past...I can’t even imagine how many years ago that must have been... )

( Each room feels as if it has been lived... )

( I wonder if all of its residents...are truly gone like Carla-san told me? ...Only leaving their traces behind... )

Hmー ....There’s a bunch of different goods, but I haven’t come across anything which could cure an illness...

*Rustle*

Yui: Nothing here...Time to go to the next room. 

ー The scene shifts to the underground dungeon

Yui: This must be...the underground dungeon? ...I guess there’s no point in looking heーー

*Thud*

Yui: Hm...? What was that sound...? It came from this direction...

ー The scene shifts to Krone’s bedroom

Yui: ( Haah, I’m kind of exhausted. I don’t want to rest up here though, so once I’m done searching this room... )

Hm...? 

( There’s a fallen book underneath the bed...It’s completely covered in dust... )

...I wonder if I can reach it...There. ...!! I got it!

*Thud thud* 

Yui: ...Uu, the dust...! Cough...!!

( It doesn’t seem like just any regular book...This is...a diary...I wonder if I can read it...? )

*Flip*

Monologue

ーー I have been feeling well as of late,

so I decided that I would go,

and confront that man...

Yui: ( Thank god. It’s written in English. I might be able to read most of it... )

ー Mertz enters the room

Mertz: Yui-san?

Yui: ...!!

*Rustle*

Yui: W-What’s wrong?

( While it may not be of any importance, I’ll hide this diary for now. )

Mertz: Aah, so this is where you’ve been. I was worried. Where is Carla-sama?

Yui: I’m sorry. Carla-san is in his room. He told me he wanted to be alone, so...

Mertz: I see. In that case, let us return upstairs. 

This shady room is no place for you to be at.

Yui: O-Okay...

( I’ll take this to my room with me and inspect it once I’m alone. )

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts back to Yui’s room

Yui: ( Phew, I totally lost track of time while talking to Mertz-san. )

( I’ll check the diary from earlier again. )

*Flip*

Yui: ーー It’s a bunch of things about their everyday life...This person must have been a woman. 

She seemed happy but...Hm? Ah, this...

Monologue

ーー Ever since Carla was born,

I have been living in fear.

I could tell at first glance. 

This child is no ordinary boy. 

Yui: Carla? ...Eh? Then, this...

( Is this the diary of Carla-san’s mother? )

...!!

Monologue

Us Founders are known,

for having unique powers. ...However,

even at birth, this child’s powers,

tops all of the charts. It is baffling.

I wonder what Gies will think if he finds out?

When I started thinking about that,

a small spark of anxiety ignited in my heart.

At the same time this child was born into this world,

I came to the realization,

that Gies would never be able, 

to genuinely love and care for him as his son.

Yui: ...

( I wonder if Carla-san was treated horribly by his Father when growing up...? )

( It did seem like he has another kind of bruises besides those caused by the illness...That being said, still... )

( All because he was born with unique abilities... )

ー Yui recalls Carla’s words

Carla: I do not need your pity. Do not be ridiculous. I was raised here, and was always alone.

So I wish to meet my end by myself as well...

ー The flashback ends

Yui: Ugh...

( It makes my heart ache...What is this feeling...? )

Monologue

ーー To be honest,

it was painful to read through the diary of Krone,

who was Carla’s  mother. 

His mother seemed to have a good understanding of everything,

but because she valued both her husband Gies-san,

as well as Carla-san,

she was stuck having to choose between the two of them. 

Ever since he was just a small child,

Carla-san has always been noble and upright.

Hence why he seemed to respect his Father,

 obediently heeding his every command,

However, 

Gies was not too fond of that.

It seems like the more obedient Carla-san was to him,

the more this would upset his Father. 

Apparently it was this strained relationship,

which gradually pushed Gies-san to madness. 

Yui: ( There’s stuff written about the disease as well. ーー Strange bruises show up on the body as one’s health deteriorates, eventually leading to death... )

( It’s a disease which only Founders can contract...Amongst founders, it was treated as a taboo... )

ーー Hm? Huh...? Karlheinz...?

Why does it mention Karlheinz-san’s name here...?

Monologue

In fear of this disease which has been named after the end of time,

I decided to turn to Karlheinz for advice,

despite knowing it was taboo to speak of the topic. 

Karlheinz is an old friend,

of both Gies and I...

Unfortunately, having such a powerful and almighty friend,

seems to have pushed Gies,

to develop an inferiority complex...

No, right now is not the time to talk about that.

Either way, I asked this wise friend of mine,

to look into the cause,

behind this disease which is fatal to immortal beings.

I heard that ever since the ancient days,

he has been conducting all sorts of research regarding the Demon World.

He even has a research facility known as the pharmaceutical department. 

I believed that perhaps,

they could invent a cure for this disease over there. 

He told me that he wanted me to bring him one Founder,

who could be used as the object for his research.

Us Founders formed one community,

all living together in this castle. 

That is how we had built our bloodline. 

Therefore asking for a single member,

was not an easy task to complete. 

As much as I hated to do it,

I decided to entrust my younger sister Menae to him.

Taking a female Founder outside of the castle walls,

was simply unthinkable. 

We were under strict supervision,

and ever since we were young,

we had been told to never leave the castle,

as well as to avoid any and all interactions with other species.

While Menae was beyond terrified at first...

She eventually agreed to my offer. 

It seems like Gies could care less about the disease,

as he continues to bring those suspicious Pursits into the castle,

and hold meetings with them day after day.

I don’t know what exactly he is asking of them though.

But he is setting up a plan,

to take down both Karlheinz and Burai.

Gies is ignoring the issue of us Founders,

to head into war. 

Yui: ( ...Now all pieces of the puzzle finally come together. In short, Menae left the castle upon Karlheinz-san’s request. )

( Before ultimately becoming the wife of the Demon King Burai. Cordelia was born as a child between them...And my heart... )

Haah...I’m exhausted...

*Thud*

Yui: ( That’s enough reading for today... )

ー Carla suddenly shows up 

Carla: ーー Why are you still here? 

Yui: Ah! Carla-san...! Are you sure you should be up and walking?

Carla: ...That does not answer my question. 

Yui: W-Well...I’m free to go where I want, right?

Carla: I believe that is what I told. 

Yui: I’m free...so I’m doing what I want...That’s all. 

( ...I wonder if he’ll get mad... )

Carla: Haah...

Yui: Carla-san.

Carla: Be my guest. 

ー He walks towards the door

Yui: Ah! Carla-san, where are you going? 

Carla: Out on a walk.

Yui: I-I’ll come with you!

Carla: Suit yourself. 

ー The scene shifts to the entrance hall

Carla: ...

Yui: ( Thank god. He seems to be doing a bit better... )

Carla: What are you looking at?

Yui: Your face from the side.

Carla: Hah...Good grief, you are honestlyーー

Fascinating...Ugh...

Yui: Are you alright!? Come on, hold onto me...!

*Rustle*

Carla: ーー Good grief. ...I’m pathetic. 

Yui: You are not. You can lean onto me if you’re tired. 

Carla: ...That is not what I was taught as a child.

Yui: ( ...I see. He was raised strictly by Gies-san... )

...Becoming a King...must be a lot of work...

Carla: ...Hah.

Yui: Did I say something funny? 

Carla: No, I was just thinking that from your point of view, calling it a lot of work might be somewhat of an understatement...Haha...

Yui: ...

Carla: Hahaha...What? Is something wrong? 

Yui: You laughed...I’m glad. 

Carla: ...What do you mean?

Yui: ...Exactly as I said it...

Carla: I alsoーー

Yui: Yes?

Carla: No...Nevermind. 

Yui: ...?

Carla: I nearly spouted some nonsense. I should probably head back to my room now. 

Yui: U-Um...Carla-san?

Carla: What? 

Yui: Well...Are you...not scared of dying?

Carla: Why would you ask that? 

Yui: For some reason...You seem very calm...

Carla: Fear is such a silly feeling. You ask that because you are human. 

If anything...Perhaps I have been waiting for this moment...all along. 

Yui: ...No way...

Carla: Unlike you, I have been alive for a ridiculously long amount of time. It is only obvious I would feel this way, no?

Yui: Is it?

Carla: It is. Besides...I believe that I have not yet freed myself.

ーー From that guy’s grasps. 

Yui: Eh...? 

ー Carla walks away

Carla: ...As I said earlier, I shall go rest. Do not follow me. 

ー He leaves

Yui: ( What did he mean...? )

Carla-san...

( What is this? This feeling...I... )

( Just now...I found myself wishing...that I could wrap my arms around his back as he walked away... )

( Is this just mere pity? Or perhaps... )

ー The scene shifts to the balcony

Carla: ーー How careless of me...For just a split second...

( I felt happy having her there with me...What is going on...? )

I cannot comprehendーー

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

[raewritez]

take care of you

summary: Your worry about the future and are used to taking care of your friends. Luckily, Zuko is there to take care of you.

a/n: i don’t realllyyy ship Zutara but one of the aspects i love about their relationship is that Zuko is virtually the only person that Katara doesn’t have to act as a mother to, so I was largely inspired by that dynamic.

requested?: nope!

—————

Your fingers ran shakily through your hair, air escaping your lips in uneven breaths. You shut the heavy door behind you, coming to sit upon the air temple’s sturdy bed that rested in the center of your given bedroom. You had been fine until a few minutes ago, you had been enjoying the crispness of the air and warmth of the sun until the words of quiet voices had floated to your ears. Whispers of Aang and his destiny, of death and murder and war. The other people, they expected Aang to be able to kill the Firelord just like that, to abandon his childhood and sense of self in a split moment of violence. You knew he couldn’t do that, you loved him like a brother and if there was one thing you knew for sure it was that Aang’s heart of gold was impenetrable. You had glanced down to wear he stood with Zuko, arms raised in an aggressive stance, the fire that spouted from his palms betraying his lighthearted nature. The image had left you breathless, your protective side alighted against the cruel expectations of this twelve-year-old boy, of your dear friend.

You were upset, and you knew there was nothing you could do about it. Killing the Firelord was Aang’s destiny, and it couldn’t be altered by simple adoration or protectiveness. It shouldn’t be Aang, the weight of the world shouldn’t fall on the back of this war-born child, but it was. Your head rested in your hands, mind swimming with attempts to ward off images of death and fire and the ideas of fate and destiny. You felt silly being so affected by the muttered words of children while your friends were out there training and fighting their own battles. You were disrupted from your emotional state by the creaking of a door and the appearance of a shaggy head of black hair.

You lifted your head, plastering on a smile. “Hey, Zuko. What’s up?”

He stepped in quietly, closing the door behind him. “Hey, Y/n, I just...” his eyes darted between the walls, his hand raising to rake through his hair. “Well, I saw you leaving, and you seemed upset. So I thought I would just...come check on you.”

A genuine grin made its way to your face, worries muted and heart softened at the boy’s thoughtfulness. “Thanks, Zuko. That’s nice of you. You don’t need to worry about me, though, I just...got a little upset is all.”

His amber eyes flashed with concern, and you questioned why he cared so much for how you were feeling. You certainly cared about him, caring about people was basically your job after all, acting as the protector of the group and the only one that Katara would allow to take care of her. You cared for him, truthfully maybe more than you should, but you weren’t aware of the extent of his care for you. 

His feet brought him closer, seating himself before you at the edge of the bed. “Why are you upset?” he questioned, sincerity pouring from his voice. “Did someone do something? Or did something happen? If it did, I can-”

“Nothing happened, Zuko,” you cut him off, lifting your fingers to shyly play with the strands of your hair. “Nothing happened, really, it’s just...” he gazed at you with imploring eyes. You sighed. “It’s just that I’m upset about everything going on, all the stuff with Aang and what he has to do, and it’s stupid. I shouldn’t be upset, I mean, I’m obviously used to everything by now, but...I’m just worried about him.”

He searched his mind, he was never good at comforting people. You were always good at that, always listening to him and reassuring him in ways no-one had ever managed to. He wanted to repay the favor, to make you happy like you made him, but he didn’t possess the talent of assurance and comfort. Instead, with a certain boldness to his movement, he grasped your hand from its place in your hair with his own. 

“He’ll be okay, Y/n. He's a talented kid,” his thumb stoked your knuckles. “The comet is weeks away and he’ll be ready. He’ll be ready.”

Your eyes were glued to the spot his hand met yours, unable to focus on anything but the heat emanating from his palm. You nodded softly with appreciation, lifting your fingers to reciprocate his caring touch. Your lips parted and you found it difficult to breathe, your stomach and lungs occupied by swarms of butterflies. Your eyes met his, and you found yourself captivated by the intensity in his stare.

You stayed locked in that position, his eyes glued to yours and your hands interlocked. He lifted your arm, playing with your fingers and pressing a kiss to the inside of your wrist. “You worry too much.”

You ignored the blush rising to your cheeks. “I think I worry just the right amount. Someone has to.”

He shook his head. “You shouldn’t have to. Someone needs to take care of you every once in a while.” 

“Oh yeah?” you questioned breathlessly. “Like who?”

His eyes met yours and you could’ve sworn you saw him lean forward before the silence was broken by knocking against your door.

“Y/n! Sokka screwed up dinner and we need your help before Katara kills us.”

You recognized Toph’s voice and pulled out of Zuko’s grasp.

“Sounds serious,” you chuckled. “I’ll be right there.”

“Mkay!”

You sighed softly, averting your gaze from Zuko’s as awkward silence filled the atmosphere. “I should probably go help them.”

He nodded, masking his slight disappointment as he rose to allow you an exit. Your shoulder brushed his as you passed, and the two of you ignored the electricity as you emerged from the confines of the small room.

///

“Appa, yip yip!”

The smell of charred wood filled the air, fire flinging past your face as the soldiers advanced. Aang was lifting off, fleeing the onslaught of flames as you crumbled the earth surrounding the men to allow them an escape.

He glanced back, alarm filling his face at the sight of you. “Y/n, come on!” he yelled, looking at you with worry.

You grunted as you threw rock after rock at your persecutors. “It’s ok, Aang, just go! I’ll be fine!”

“What?! No! Y/n, just-” he cut himself off as a figure dressed in red jumped from Appa, landing on the edge of the cliffside.

“Get out of here, Aang,” Zuko spoke. “I’ll take care of her.”

Aang glanced back in worry before yanking Appa’s reigns and flying off the other way.

Zuko turned, running towards you as you fended off the soldiers with concaving ground and heavy boulders. He intercepted the fire of the remaining men, channeling it and striking towards them. As they stumbled back from the impact Zuko grabbed your arm and sped into the refuge of the forest, shielding your body from possible incoming attacks.

He pulled you along through the winding trees, twigs snapping under your feet as you did your best to catch your breath. When he slowed down you lifted your eyes to find the entrance of a small cave nestled between the rocks. 

“Guess this is home for the night.” Zuko tilted his head to glance at you, taking note of your furrowed brows and flushed face. “You ok?”

You quickly nodded your head. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for coming back.”

“I wouldn’t leave you behind,” he smiled.

You looked at him gratefully before raising your arms to maneuver the stone around the entrance of the cave. Once the hole was deemed large enough the two of you crawled inside, Zuko’s hands protectively supporting your waist as go ensure you wouldn’t fall.

The inside was dreary, uneven walls forming to shelter the small patch of ground while the light of the sun was blocked out as you ventured further. Your feet ached, legs bruised and hair messed from the abrupt attacks. Zuko kept sneaking glances, worried by the tiredness of your movement and the absence of your usual optimism and cheerfulness. You made your way over to the edge of the cave, sitting down and resting your back against the sturdy wall. Zuko crept over beside you, lowering himself close to your body and staring warily at the cave’s entrance. 

You picked at your nails. “Do you think they’ll be ok?”

He snapped towards you in disbelief. You were seriously worried about that right now? “They’ll be fine, Y/n. They’re long gone by now and Aang will be back for us in the morning.”

You agreed hesitantly before leaning your head against the wall. You peered through the hole of the cave, catching sight of the sky beginning to fade to reds and purples. “Maybe we should get some sleep. If the soldiers come back we’ll need our energy.”

Zuko nodded, moving to lie down while putting a respectable amount of space between the two of you. You drifted off to the sound of Zuko’s even breathing and the warmth that was carried from his body to yours.

///

You jolted awake to wind swirling inside the cave, the coldness piercing your skin like a knife. Your lips were tinted blue, the tips of your fingers aching and nose freezing to the touch. You pushed yourself off the hard ground, lifting your knees to your chest and curling in on yourself. Zuko was beside you, sleeping peacefully, seemingly unbothered by the chilliness of the night.

You stood up, walking around in attempt to warm yourself up and find a more sheltered part of the tiny cave. Zuko woke up to your shuffling, bleary eyes latching onto your shivering figure.

“Y/n?” he questioned in a raspy voice. “What's going on?”

“Oh, sorry Zuko,” you said sheepishly. “It’s just a little chilly.”

He assumed a pensive demeanor, eyes shifting mindfully before speaking.

“Come here.”

“What?”

“You’re cold and I can warm you up. Come here.”

You made your way awkwardly over to him, trying to ignore the blush that rose to your face at his implication.

You sat down next to him, sitting in silence before his arm hesitantly wrapped around your shoulders, bringing you closer. You sighed, he did feel warm. You subconsciously nuzzled closer to the sanctuary of your friend’s embrace until minutes later you were practically on top of him. You rested comfortably against his torso, his lean arms cradling you to his chest.

He breathed into your hair, careful not to accidentally light it on fire with his nervousness. He closed his eyes, relishing in your presence.

“Thanks, Zuko,” you whispered.

He smiled. “No problem.”

You raised your head to look at him, unsaid words lingering on your tongue. He stared at you questioningly as you searched for your voice, becoming distracted by the way your eyelashes danced across your cheeks and your lip was pulled between your teeth. 

“What is it?”

You swallowed. “It’s nothing...never mind.”

He raised an eyebrow, slowly linking his fingers with yours. “You can tell me, if you want to.”

“I know I can, but it’s silly. I’m just thinking too much.”

He lifted your hand, fingers tracing over the scars and lines, thumb stroking fondly against your skin. “If it’s about the group, they’re fine. They know what they're doing, and they can take care of themselves.”

You chuckled. “Most of them. I don’t know about Sokka though. He needed help rolling up his sleeping bag this morning.”

Zuko laughed lightly, reaching to brush away the hair that had fallen into your face. “Yeah, maybe not Sokka. But Katara’ll keep him in line. You can take a break from taking care of them...” he trailed off, amber eyes moving to yours. “Just let me take care of you for now.”

You felt your heartbeat quicken at his gaze, skin set alight by the way his fingers traced over it. He held nothing but sincerity and tenderness in his voice, and his eyes conveyed a deep fondness. You couldn’t help it when your eyes trailed to the curve of his nose, the splashes of freckles, and down to his lips. He raised your hand, pressing a kiss to the inside of your wrist. In a burst of courage you moved your palm to cup his cheek, fingertips ghosting against the rugged edge of his scar. 

His own eyes felt heavy, pulled down by some magnetic force that drew him closer to you. At your caring touch, he moved his hand to the back of your neck and tilted your chin towards his. His lips met yours, eyelids slipping closed as you moved your own against his. He pulled you impossibly closer, handling you with such gentleness and affection that you wondered if you would implode. You ran your fingers through his hair, the soft stands filtering through them like water. He grasped your hips, lifting his mouth to meet yours in a seemingly never-ending heavenly embrace. You broke apart with a smile, the long-overdue kiss lightening your heart and sending butterflies through your stomach.

He grinned against you, stroking his thumb against your cheek before pulling your head to nestle in the crook of his neck. He breathed into your hair, pressing  his lips against the crown of your head. He nuzzled into you, his hair tickling your face as you felt yourself surrounded by him. You felt reassured, your friends would be fine and you felt relieved by the fact that you didn’t really need to worry about Zuko. He would take care of you, after all.

[obeymehasinfluncedmythoughts]

heyy wondered if you could write something with the bros and GN!MC who is insecure about their small breast? Body worship! sfw or not, have fun

thank you lots and take care pls

Here you go! I had a bit of trouble with this, which is why I'm posting in two parts. The holidays and some adult stuff have kinda had my mind recently.

Idk how this turned out. Body worship is not usually something I write so this was... an experience. Hopefully the second part will be easier.

Lucifer

Lucifer is probably going to approach this with a more structured plan.

He doesn't want to overwhelm you with support by denying your concerns.

(Often times that can be just as bad as nothing at all.)

So he'll do other things to show you how much he cares.

He'll make sure to remind you how much he loves you, approaching the topic of your body, and eventually your breasts rather slowly.

Once he believes you're comfortable enough with the topic, he'll probably get a bit more intense.

Definitely into body worship, but he's incredibly conscious of your feelings at all times.

(^It's meant to make you feel better, and if it's not accomplishing that, then he's going to direct attention else where)

Really out of all of the brother's he's probably the least pushy about getting you to accept yourself and more concerned about you feeling comfortable and knowing that he loves you.

(But when given the chance he will use nipple clamps)

Mammon

The exact opposite of Lucifer

He's incredibly pushy and doesn't understand why you could be feeling this way.

"What do you mean? You're beautiful!"

Kinda doesn't believe you actually think this until he beings to notice certain habits that arise from this insecurity.

Then he approaches the topic with the grace of a new born giraffe.

Really, he's trying, but it's genuinely hard to tell what exactly that means.

He tries to incorporate his support into sex, but he's rather inexperienced in this topic.

That being said, he's a good ear to talk to. He's just not great at giving advice past what the devildom version of Google tells him to do.

Leviathan

Probably one of the best at handling this topic.

Whilst he doesn't deal with this exact insecurity, Levi has plenty of them he battles daily.

(Lucifer, whilst having a pretty decent grip on this issue, doesn't really deal with it himself. At least, not often, and not in the same way. So whilst his support is welcomed, it's not nearly the same as having someone who knows what you're going through)

He's incredibly good at picking up on your needs, and makes sure to let you know that whilst you might not be feeling great about your breast size, he doesn't want you any less.

In fact, this give him more initiative to take pictures with you for his devilgram and show you off even more to everyone else.

(Definitely likes to tell you that people are jealous of you/of him for being with you, but this always comes out a little stuttered. It's hard for Levi to admit that so many people want to be with you tbh.)

He's incredibly careful to send you messages about how nice your shirt looks on you, and during intimate moments, he does try to dedicate his time to the spots you worry most about.

(Its really give a little, get a lot with Levi. He needs to kinda learn things like body worship from you before he dives into it himself)

Satan

His approach is similar to Lucifer at first, but it takes less time in a sense (?)

For a few days he kinda has to process things, making sure to watch your reactions so he doesn't accidentally do something wrong.

Then, once he feels like he's gained enough information, he'll come to you with an idea, give him a chance to change your mind.

Of course, this whole time Lucifer is discouraging this, Asmo is encouraging it, and Mammon is so confused that he doesn't know what to do.

Saying yes is pretty much the equivalent of selling your soul.

Satan pretty much goes out of his way to prove you can do the same thing any other person with a bigger chest can do.

This can range from innocent bra shopping to the more devious.

But hey, that's what comes with dating a demon.

[messiahzzz]

i don’t know if it’s just me, but i personally always had an issue with NH and a good majority of the fandom assigning “commitment issues” as one of asra’s core traits. cause that’s not how i see them at all.

the most common examples i’ve seen are: 1) “but he had no intention of committing to julian” yes, exactly. their relationship was not born out of a potential promise for commitment, despite julian wishing for it. asra made it very clear from the start that he can’t give julian what he wants and that he sees their relationship as something casual. not because they were afraid of committing to a relationship, but simply because julian was never the one they wanted. he only had eyes for the MC from the start and he made this fact very clear.

the second one would be “but he abandoned MC when the plague hit and didn’t care to help the victims either” he wanted MC to come with him, hence the argument. however, he can hardly force them to, especially being a person who respects wishes and boundaries. asra may be selfless in many aspects, but they have a sense of self-preservation still.

so let me ask you this: what rational person wouldn’t want to flee from a storm of incoming death if they had the option to do so?

growing up as an orphan on the docks, asra most definitely saw vesuvia from its worst side. something the MC luckily never had to experience. i feel like the fandom has a tendency to gloss over the trauma that they have endured for many years or write it off as something that’s “in the past”. he and muriel were on their own for a good majority of their childhood, left to their own devices. asra even mentions in another route that they’re genuinely surprised that people apart from muriel and the MC would worry about what happens to them. that they weren’t aware anyone else cared.

being homeless from a very young age on and having experienced all of this trauma, why would he feel like he’d owe anything to this city? deciding to leave doesn’t make them a bad person.

his reason for repeatedly going on journeys after the MC has been resurrected isn’t because he is trying to escape the responsibility either. he is merely searching for his own answers and tries to cope with his overwhelming feelings for them. that being said: does asra have a tendency to run away from his problems? definitely, but that doesn’t necessarily equal fearing commitment.

you know what takes a lot of commitment though? dedicating your time to research and looking for any way to bring a loved one back, no matter how dangerous it may be. giving up part of your heart without knowing the repercussions. devoting several years to nursing them back to health. teaching them how to be a person again, step by step. re-teaching them magic. repeatedly trying to restore their memory, failing and trying all over again. remaining by their side throughout all of this, no matter how painful it may be, cause you know they deserve another chance at life.

asra is one of the most selfless and loyal characters in the entire game.

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

OKAY SO HEAR ME OUT—

so since it's implied that scaramouche was pervious under the "care" of Il Dottore, I would like to propose the idea of him and the reader meeting at that point, and a silent camaraderie forming. One that even after the titles of fifth and sixth are handed out, does not die. as the origins of the reader, who's to say, maybe they're supposed to be from the abyss, maybe they are human or just something that wears a human's face, I frankly have no clue

Dendro!Reader who is a sort of reluctant ally of the fatui, a harbinger in everything but name if you will. Albeit they are young by the standards of witches* they are far older than a human could ever dream to be, if human life spans are counted in decades, than a witches' swill be in centuries. Frankly they didn't really want to form this allyship, but if it keeps the fatui out of their forest, out of one of the last section of land that once belonged to all the wild beings of the north, then so be it. It turns out, that non-mortals who wear human faces, are rather good at recognizing each other.

Scaramouche was not fond of his co-workers, is what he would have liked to say if you weren't genuinely kind. It bothered him a little, he'd seen you be just as if not more crueler than him, but in your own words you can only be as kind as you are cruel, it's just the sort of person you turned out to be. He wishes he didn't find companionship in you, because then maybe he wouldn't be second guessing his decision to abandon the fatui all together. To betray the Archon of your homeland, an archon you have no love for. So he doesn't tell you, ironically, you don't tell him of your own plans to defect. Neither of you know what the other has done until a chance meeting afterwards, shenanigans ensue.

*I am using Witch in a gender neutral context, similar to how adepti/adeptus is used as a gender neutral term rather than terms like man and woman

Scara and Reader this whole concept:

A mixture of angst and comedy? My sort of jam 🤌🏾🤌🏾🤌🏾I actually do have a concept of Scaramouche and a reader defecting the Fatui after he yoinks Ei’s gnosis. He could just leave, but he would much rather have the ally/subordinate he’s grown fond of over the months or years come with him. So he asks and because you’re a simp, you follow. 

But this is just pretty funny because here Kuni is going through the emotional turmoil of wanting to ask you to come with him when he defects. But he doesn’t know if he can trust you or not. You’re allied and all but who knows how deeply your loyalties to the Tsaritsa lies? You could end up being a rat. Or worse, if his fondness for you is discovered that could be used against him. Even worse than that is the possibility that you could be hurt. Scaramouche is extremely selfish as an individual. If he loves cares is fond of someone, he wants their love and loyalty twice as much. But in a rare act of selflessness, seeing you get hurt because of his selfishness is the last thing he wants. So he reluctantly defects on his own after obtaining the gnosis.

Then fast forward to now where he’s seeing you, no longer allied with the Fatui because “SURPRISE” you left too. Great, he was worried and sad for nothing. Give him the time he spent worrying about this back.

(And it’s also interesting thinking about a reader who wields Dendro but comes from Snezhnaya. As the Cryo nation, we know its cold and the NPCs we’ve talked to about the country make it sound colder than cold. So living in a place full of tundras, pine forests and potentially extremely barren forests and being a creature of Dendro makes for a very interesting combination. You could easily leave to where you’d better thrive but you’re connected to the forest you were born in and you’d rather not let it go- until the Fatui become too much for you and now you can’t stand to be there any longer)

[robininthelabyrinth]

The Quiet Room

- Chapter 6 - ao3 - (previous tumblr pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5)

The Lan sect’s rules said Learning comes first, and that was because learning was the root of all things.

Humans were changeable and ever-changing, molded by their heritage and their environment; it was through careful education that they learned to comprehend goodness – it was only through constant learning that they could keep themselves walking on the path of righteousness.

Learning from books, learning from others, learning from one’s own mistakes; it didn’t matter.

What was important was that you couldn’t stop learning.

You had to keep moving forward.

Lan Wangji had for some time entertained the thought that his life had stopped when Wei Wuxian’s had. It had felt as though it had: it felt as if his heart had been irrevocably shattered, like a priceless vase that had once contained all his tender feelings – all those feelings that, lacking their container, would now slip through his fingers forever, leaving him as empty as a soulless puppet. He’d thought he was doomed never to love again, never to learn again, all his mind consumed with nothing by memories.

He’d been wrong, of course.

Even with Wei Wuxian gone, he was still learning.

There were his recent meditations on the subject of silence and noise, for one.

There were his wards, for another.

Lan Sizhui was a polite and thoughtful child, inquisitive but a little shy and hesitant, a little fearful to assert himself – a little too quiet, in a way that Lan Wangji was starting to be able to recognize as being not good, a silence and reticence born of concern and anxiety rather than genuine introversion. Luckily, there was also Lan Jingyi, who was and had always been the liveliest and most spirited of children, and yet he, too, was just a little bit too loud in a way that reflected his own method of displaying anxiety, another startling realization that was brand new.

Lan Wangji had always associated quiet with reserve and self-control, noise with carelessness and recklessness, but being in the controlled chaos of Qinghe and really sincerely listening to it, accepting it, came with its own set of revelations. He found that there were people who were naturally loud and those that made themselves be loud, just as there were those who were quiet and those who were forced into quietude. Lan Jingyi worried just as much as the next person, but he displaced those feelings through distraction rather than through the force of his willpower, taking on the role of clown or hero as suited each moment, unafraid to cast himself in the role of aggressor if it would allow Lan Sizhui the chance to play the mediator. The subconscious division of roles allowed Lan Sizhui to feel useful and in control, reducing his anxiety, while Lan Jingyi got to feel taken care of, which reduced his own – it was good, in a way, but after some consideration Lan Wangji carefully took them both in hand and told them that they would need to be more thoughtful about it.

Lan Sizhui could not, should not, always have to be the peacemaker, always yielding and kind and gentle and quiet: he deserved to be loud, too. He deserved to be assertive, to be heard, to feel entitled to take up space regardless of his utility to those around him. He should never feel like he had to pay in service for the right to exist.

And by the same token, Lan Jingyi shouldn’t feel burdened to always have to be the one to take the first step, always acting as the driving force, the loud and opinionated one. He should have the opportunity, and the obligation, to think through what he was doing or saying, to be thoughtful and careful, to sometimes yield if he wished; he should be granted space of his own to make sure that his actions were what he wished them to be rather than some impulse.

Lan Wangji only wished he’d had the wisdom to tell Wei Wuxian the same thing while he’d been alive.

He’d been so short-sighted when he was younger, at first unable to recognize how he felt about the man and then unable to figure out how to speak with him – he’d been unable to break his own habitual silence, and equally unable to see the depths concealed in Wei Wuxian’s brash arrogance, especially towards the end. Like Lan Jingyi, Wei Wuxian’s reckless courage was genuine, especially in the happy days of their youth; like Lan Jingyi, when things got bad, Wei Wuxian had taken refuge in more of the same, building himself walls made of noise that were designed to keep everyone out.

Wei Wuxian might have been noisy and loud, right to the very end, but in his own way he’d been just as alone as Lan Wangji in his excess of quiet.  

The next generation, Lan Wangji thought fiercely, would do better.

He felt comforted by that thought.

The children were chewing over Lan Wangji’s words as they walked along the outmost ramparts of the Unclean Realm, already inured to the glittering barrier that hung in their sky, full of arrays and inscriptions – they were accompanying Lan Wangji on his daily walk.

The Nie sect’s doctors had a very different regimen for curing illnesses than the Lan sect’s, he’d found. Thirty-three strikes of the discipline whip: in both places he’d gotten stitched back up, but while the Lan sect doctors had allowed him to retreat into seclusion, prescribing medicine and rest and self-reflection, the Nie sect doctors insisted on coupling medicine and meditation with exercise. Intermittent and gradual exercise, meant to increase flexibility and reduce muscle atrophy – it wasn’t really that different from what Lan Wangji had been left to do on his own back at home, but he found that it was easier to struggle against his stubborn body when he had company to encourage him to take that extra step beyond his limits, their voices pushing him when his own willpower was insufficient. Even the silent presence of the two children, walking beside him, helped him find the reason to keep going.

Truly, there was much to consider on the subject of quiet and noise, of loud and soft, of loneliness and isolation and how no amount of either introversion nor extroversion could alone save you from them.

Lan Wangji was still thinking it over when he heard a new noise.

It was also an old noise, painfully familiar from all those days of war – before he even consciously identified what the sound was, his back had straightened, his legs sinking into a prepared pose, his mind already summoning his spiritual energy to the forefront in case he needed to defend himself.

Cultivators, flying on swords at speed.

Lan Wangji looked up and saw them: men and women both, a small group – a forward scouting troop, small enough to be subtle and sneak ahead to see what was happening but large enough to ensure someone would be able to return to the main force and warn them if they did find something.

They were dressed in the colors of Yunmeng Jiang, and it was Jiang Cheng leading them.

Lan Wangji’s back stiffened.

He had not seen Jiang Cheng since the massacre at the Nightless City, although he’d heard the stories of how he had turned against his own shixiong and led the greatest of the forces that besieged the Burial Mounds. He’d decided then that he’d never wanted to see Jiang Cheng ever again – he hadn’t been able to comprehend how Jiang Cheng could do a thing like that to Wei Wuxian, who he’d loved.

He still didn’t understand, but he thought, perhaps, that he ought to be a little less hasty in judging others by his own standards.

He’d done enough of that.

“Hanguang-jun!” Jiang Cheng called, seeing him, and pulled ahead of all the other Jiang sect cultivators, leaving them hanging back warily. Lan Wangji turned to face him, conscious of the two young children still clinging to his hands and now half-hiding behind his robes – conscious, too, of the shimmering but translucent barrier that divided them from Jiang Cheng, the barrier that had been raised to protect the Unclean Realm from Lan Wangji’s own brother and all the mistakes he had made, well-meaning as they were. “Hanguang-jun, good, you can tell me, what is the meaning of…”

Jiang Cheng trailed off, his eyes suddenly wide and almost bulging from the force of how hard he was staring at Lan Wangji.

“Jiang Wanyin,” Lan Wangji said politely in greeting – or, well, politely enough.

“Lan Wangji,” Jiang Cheng said in return, his voice sounding strangled. “What…happened?”

Far too much to explain, so Lan Wangji didn’t, just waited for Jiang Cheng to continue with a more specific question.

“I mean, uh. The beacon went off,” Jiang Cheng said. He was still gawking, looking as though he were about to fall off his sword any second. “The – you know the one, the one that shows when a sect’s barrier defenses have been activated. I thought...”

He’d assumed there was an invasion, Lan Wangji realized, and had rushed over at once to try to help forestall it. It was a reasonable assumption, and a noble response: having once lost everything without being able to rely on the help of others, Jiang Cheng now sought to be the help that he had not had.

It was the sort of thing a righteous person would do, and in line with what Lan Wangji thought he’d known of Jiang Cheng’s character.

And yet…Jiang Cheng had still turned his back on Wei Wuxian.

Time and time again, he’d turned away fro him.

“I came to find out what happened, why they put up the shield,” Jiang Cheng continued. “I brought people with me to help, though I left them back a ways so it wouldn’t be an insult. And now I’m here and – and you’re here – and you’re…just…it’s…Lan Wangji, what happened to your forehead ribbon?”

Lan Wangji arched his eyebrows. “Is that your primary concern?”

Jiang Cheng waved his hands around, almost flailing, and Lan Wangji couldn’t quite help but feel a sudden stab of amusement – and then of sorrow, because the flailing was almost painfully familiar. He had seen Wei Wuxian do much the same when he encountered something unexpected, whether some threat or some new maneuver by the Wen sect or, in one notable instance, the unanticipated appearance of a fish in a place where one would not normally expect fish to be.

“I have taken a leave of absence from the Lan sect,” Lan Wangji finally explained, deciding to be magnanimous and take pity on his former comrade in arms. “The Nie sect has permitted me to remain with them while I determine my next course of action. As for the shield, there is no imminent invasion. The situation is – complicated.”

Jiang Cheng huffed. “You don’t say!”

Still, the explanation seemed to help steady him, somewhat, and Lan Wangji observed that Jiang Cheng did not look his best: tired, with circles under his eyes and an unhealthy skin tone. Too much work, too little rest, and probably nightmares…because of what had happened to Wei Wuxian, perhaps? But if so, why had he done it in the first place?

“I cannot let you in,” Lan Wangji added, even though technically he had one of the only remaining guest tokens that still functioned. Jiang Cheng nodded, seemingly having expected that. “I can escort you to the sect leader’s quarters to have your request for admission approved.”

That the person approving the request would probably be Nie Huaisang, Lan Wangji did not say – not so much out of caution, which would probably be justified, but rather out of a completely inexplicable urge to see Jiang Cheng start flailing once again upon finding out.

Was this how Wei Wuxian felt all the time?

Interesting.

He began to walk again, the children at his sides slowly coming out, and Jiang Cheng did him the courtesy of not mentioning how slow and stiff he was, although Lan Wangji thought he remembered enough of Jiang Cheng’s mannerisms to interpret the twisted grimace on his face as he glanced over time and time again as a look of concern.

After a little while in which Lan Wangji walked and Jiang Cheng floated alongside him on his sword, the Jiang sect cultivators lagging behind by a respectable distance, the children getting over their fear to start looking around again, Jiang Cheng finally cleared his throat.

“There’s a medicinal blend of herbs that can counteract the anti-clotting effects of the discipline whip,” he said. Lan Wangji glanced at him: Jiang Cheng was staring forward, not looking at him at all any more. “It makes it heal faster. I can pass the prescription along to the Nie sect’s pharmacists, if you like.”

Jiang Cheng had also been struck by the discipline whip, Lan Wangji suddenly remembered. It had been a matter of deep embarrassment for him during the war, making him reluctant to remove clothing even when they were rancid with blood and poisonous fumes.

“Thank you,” he said, and for some reason the children took that as their cue that Jiang Cheng was actually all right and burst out in a flood of questions.

Lan Jingyi wanted to know how Jiang Cheng’s clothing had gotten to be such a vivid shade of purple, while Lan Sizhui was more curious about his sword and how shiny it was – the concerns of children, unburdened by the memories or concerns of adults. Their questions made Jiang Cheng smile, and Lan Wangji thought briefly of the orphaned Jin Ling, who had been temporarily given to Jiang Cheng’s custody to pick up some of the traditions of his maternal sect. A fancy way of saying that the Jin sect wanted him out of the way for a few years until he was worth teaching their own ways to, but Lan Wangji suspected Jiang Cheng would have taken any excuse at all to remain close to his kin.

“What, now children aren’t too noisy for you?” Jiang Cheng asked Lan Wangji, and for the first time it occurred to Lan Wangji that the tossed out words, broken off and abrupt, might be meant as a friendly tease.

“I am reevaluating my relationship with silence,” he said, and Jiang Cheng smirked, amused.

“I bet you are,” he said. “Nie Huaisang alone would drive a man to distraction…”

Lan Jingyi laughed and clapped and that, and, inspired, Lan Sizhui followed suit.

And then, suddenly, Jiang Cheng frowned.

“A-Yuan,” he said, and Lan Wangji was suddenly cold from head to toe, the chattering of the children suddenly too loud in his ears: he had forgotten that Jiang Cheng had also visited the Burial Mounds. “That’s – that’s A-Yuan, isn’t it?”

“Jiang Wanyin…” Lan Wangji started, his voice sticking in his throat, then trailed off. He did not know what he could say that would work to convince Jiang Cheng that he was wrong when he was right, but neither could he admit to the truth. Even if Nie Mingjue had been kind enough to allow Lan Wangji to come to the Nie sect to stay, and to bring the two children with him, that had been under the premise that they were Lan sect children. If he ever found out that Lan Sizhui had been born surnamed Wen…

Nie Mingjue would not hurt a child, he was too righteous for that. But he might not be inclined to let that child grow up in his sect, either.

Jiang Cheng’s face was twisted in a strange sort of way, as if he couldn’t decide to be angry or relieved. “I thought he’d died,” he murmured, more to himself. “I thought…what is that?”

Lan Wangji was momentarily confused by the question, focused as he was by the terrifying implications of Jiang Cheng’s discovery, but then he saw that Jiang Cheng’s gaze went further into the distance.

He turned to look, then felt twist of unpleasantness deep in his belly: there was his brother in the sky, flying to the main gate on Shuoyue, and beside him was Jin Guangyao.

Why did you have to bring him? Lan Wangji thought, unhappy, but he already knew the answer to that. His brother trusted Jin Guangyao. Why wouldn’t he bring him?

If only he would trust the rest of them as much as he trusted that liar.

“We can discuss Lan Sizhui later,” Lan Wangji said, careful to emphasize both the surname and the courtesy name he’d given him – painfully obvious now that he thought about it, though at the time it had seemed only appropriate, the only name he could bestow that fit – and quickened his steps. “Now that my brother has arrived, things will become difficult.”

He wondered, a little bitterly, if his brother had even noticed that he was gone, or if he had been so thoroughly forgotten in his enforced ‘seclusion’ that it hadn’t even been thought of as a possibility.

“Lan Wangji!”

Lan Wangji came to a stop at Jiang Cheng’s shout. Suddenly full of anger, he turned his head back – surely Jiang Cheng didn’t hate Wei Wuxian so much that he wouldn’t let the matter of a small child go, even in the midst of a crisis?

Jiang Cheng was pointing into the distance. Strangely enough, it was not in the direction of the main gate, where Lan Xichen and Jin Guangyao were even now landing, but somewhere even further beyond.

“Do you see it?” Jiang Cheng demanded, and his eyes were suddenly wild, his breathing disordered; he seemed far more disturbed than he had when he’d recognized A-Yuan. “Lan Wangji, tell me that you see it!”

Utterly lost, Lan Wangji focused his gaze on the far horizon. It was the same scenery as he’d seen there the past few days, the interspersed richness of the low valleys that quickly arced up into the mountains that surrounded the Unclean Realm. There was nothing there that was unusual…

Lan Wangji spotted a very faint glimmer.

Sun, he thought, the reflection of sun – sun off steel.

All of a sudden, he wasn’t on the ramparts of the Unclean Realm but standing beside Jiang Cheng on a rough-hewn fortress barely worthy of the name, watching the horizon grimly as the damned Wen scout’s flare did its work and the amassed forces of Wen Chao’s troops began to move inexorably in their direction. They would come, he had known, and they would kill them all if they could; it would take everything they had to stop them, and to survive long enough just to retreat once again.

For some of them to survive.

“Invasion,” he heard someone say, their voice hoarse, and only a moment later realized it was himself who had spoken. “Invasion…it’s an army!”

“It’s the Jin sect,” Jiang Cheng said, staring blankly as if he couldn’t believe what his eyes were telling him. For once, Lan Wangji understood him completely; he was similarly shocked. “They’re wearing gold, you can see it from here…the Jin sect has sent their armies here? How could they even think to dare? Chifeng-zun will annihilate them!”

Lan Wangji’s throat worked, and for a moment he felt drowned in the quiet once more, his voice not wanting to cooperate with him, his entire being willing or even wanting to return to the solace of seclusion if it would only mean that he wouldn’t have to hear the horrible din of war once more. But he was not a coward, and would do what he must – even speak of things that felt impossible to be spoken.

“That complicated situation I mentioned,” he said, and Jiang Cheng turned to look at him. “My brother has either conspired with or was duped into assisting Lianfang-zun in an attempt on Chifeng-zun’s life through destabilizing his qi and inducing a qi deviation.”

Jiang Cheng’s jaw dropped. “They did what?!”

“Chifeng-zuns remains alive, but is confined to his bed,” Lan Wangji continued, ignoring the interjection. “Nie Huaisang was the one who ordered the shield raised, saying that there might be an attack – I thought he was overreacting, but apparently not.”

“If Jin Guangshan can take over the Unclean Realm while Nie Mingjue is incapacitated, he can say that the incapacitation is worse than it really is,” Jiang Cheng said, abruptly getting it. Lan Wangji had forgotten how much he enjoyed working alongside those from Yunmeng Jiang, Wei Wuxian most of all but also in his absence Jiang Cheng, who was smart and did not require too many words to understand. “Everyone knows Nie Huaisang’s a good-for-nothing – it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch for the Jin sect to claim that they came here at the invitation of the Nie sect to ‘rescue’ them, and remained in order to manage the sect on their behalf. Better that than have Chifeng-zun recover and come after you in vengeance!”

Lan Wangji nodded.

“But surely they didn’t think they’d be able to get away with it? Even if they could manage it for a while, as soon as the confusion cleared up, all the other sects would throw a fit…”

“Jin Ling,” Lan Wangji said, and Jiang Cheng blanched, seeming to realize the problem at once. His beloved nephew legally belonged to the Jin sect; if he dared to protest their actions, wouldn’t they be sure to take him away? As for the Lan sect, Lan Xichen would have been implicated through his actions – they could hold his participation over his head, forcing him to pick between supporting them and losing face for the whole sect, which would in turn weaken it. And that was assuming that Jin Guangyao didn’t somehow manage to talk Lan Xichen into thinking it was all for the best regardless…

There were only four Great Sects left, now. If the Lan and Jiang did nothing, who would be left to stand up for the Nie?

“I have to get inside. Nie Huaisang will need my support,” Lan Wangji said, but instead looked down at the children beside him.

“Go,” Lan Sizhui said, releasing his hand and stepping back away from him. “I’ll take Jingyi and hide in the room we’re staying in. You won’t need to worry about us – go, do what you need to!”

Jiang Cheng flinched as if he’d been struck.

Lan Wangji glanced at him. “The Jin sect army,” he said. “However unlikely, there’s still a chance that we are misinterpreting their motives.”

“I’ll go find out what I can,” Jiang Cheng agreed at once. “How many there are, what can be done…I’ll find out and report back.”

Lan Wangji tossed him the guest token he’d been given. “Be cautious,” he said. He still hadn’t forgiven Jiang Cheng for what he’d done in the Burial Mounds, but he was willing to wait until a better time to talk it over with him – now was not the time to try to gain understanding.

Jiang Cheng nodded and left at once, and Lan Wangji saw the children off, then hurried to do the same.

By the time he made it to the main hall, his brother and Jin Guangyao were already there, and Nie Huaisang was confronting them with nothing more than a fan gripped in white-knuckled hands and a glare.

“– dare you talk as if he’s gone mad, as if he can’t be trusted?” Nie Huaisang was shouting. “You should know how seriously we take such words here!”

“It is because of that that we are worried,” Lan Xichen said, and now it was Lan Wangji’s turn to flinch. His brother’s voice sounded just the way it always did, comforting in its familiarity: he sounded calm and patient, thoughtful and wise, sure of himself. He sounded as if he knew better than anyone else what was right and what was wrong. “Huaisang, you don’t know how much your brother has been worried about suffering the way your father did. He knows that qi deviations can be subtle as well as harsh – he understands that his reason might be the first to go –”

“And so you took it upon yourself to decide that for him?” Nie Huaisang sneered. “You keep saying that he understands, that he would understand, all that. But that’s a lie, isn’t it?”

“Huaisang, please,” Jin Guangyao said, his voice just as gentle as always. “You know we only want what’s best for your brother.”

“Do you?” Nie Huaisang said, but he was still looking at Lan Xichen. “You knew he hated the quiet room, er-ge. You knew that he’d never wanted anything to do with it – it’s not like that was anything new! That was something he’d said repeatedly, year after year, month after month, for his entire life. You knew how he felt about it, and you decided to ignore what he wanted in favor of what you wanted. How is that wanting what’s best for him?”

“I was only concerned for his health,” Lan Xichen said, sounding injured by the accusation. “I had nothing but good intentions…”

“Your intentions are immaterial compared to your actions,” Lan Wangji said, and they turned to look at him, both of them surprised – maybe they really hadn’t noticed he’d left the Cloud Recesses.

Well, he thought bitterly: they’d notice now.

He took a step into the room, then another.

“Your actions are this,” he said, ignoring the way his brother stared at his forehead, unadorned by the ribbon that had been there ever since he’d been a small child, receiving it for the first time from his uncle as a precious gift. “You did not trust or respect your elder brother’s word. You disregarded his decision, treating him like a child who can’t be trusted to make up his own mind – you put your own desires ahead of his, and in doing so, betrayed him. Did you really think he’d thank you for it?”

Did you think I’d thank you one day for authorizing our sect’s attack on the Burial Mounds without ever having to explain yourself? Even our uncle respected me enough to tell me at once what he had done and let me decide how I felt about it, accepting the consequences of his actions!

“Wangji,” Lan Xichen murmured. “You’re still healing, you shouldn’t be wandering around…where is your self-restraint?”

Where is your forehead ribbon, he meant, and Lan Wangji shook his head.

“Wangji, you don’t understand,” Jin Guangyao said, and Lan Wangji stiffened at the unasked-for intimacy of the address. “Whatever da-ge said to you, whatever he did, you cannot allow others to guide you by filling your heart with incomplete echoes of what you have lost. You will never forgive yourself.”

Lan Wangji was so furious that he could not speak. Was Jin Guangyao implying that Nie Mingjue had, what, seduced him? That Lan Wangji held his love for Wei Wuxian so cheap that he would have his head turned by the first person willing to make up to him in such a fashion?

“I should hope you know my da-ge better than that, er-ge,” Nie Huaisang said coldly, still speaking only to Lan Xichen. “Or is this something else where you will believe the words of that lying dog over everyone else and the evidence of your own reason to boot?”

“Huaisang, that is unwontedly cruel, and uncalled for,” Lan Xichen said, tearing his eyes away from Lan Wangji. “Whatever Wangji has decided, I do not blame Mingjue-xiong for it.”

Implying, Lan Wangji supposed, that it was Lan Wangji that was to blame for it.

“Put the blame where it belongs,” he said stiffly, staring at his brother as if looking at a stranger. “Was I to leave Chifeng-zun where I found him, half-dead and dying in our jingshi where you left him at Lianfang-zun’s incitement?”

“You think I don’t recognize that I’ve done wrong?” Lan Xichen demanded. “I will speak to Mingjue-xiong and apologize – I will explain my reasoning and let him decide how I can make it up to him. But please, there is no call for you to be cruel to A-Yao. Do not blame him for my mistakes.”

“What about for his lies?” Lan Wangji asked. He took a breath, sharp and unhappy, and suddenly it was desperately, urgently necessary to know the truth. “Brother, tell me you didn’t know. Tell me you weren’t in on it – that you didn’t try to kill Mingjue-xiong in order to cover up your affair.”

“What, kill, you think I would try to…Wangji! Affair?” Lan Xichen exclaimed, and he seemed genuinely shocked. “No, Wangji, you’ve misunderstood entirely! It’s not like that at all. Mingjue-xiong and A-Yao, they were once lovers –”

“No, we weren’t,” Nie Mingjue said.

They all turned at once. He was standing at the door, all but clinging to the doorframe to keep himself standing; he was swathed in bandages and still stuck with needles. None of them had heard him or seen him approach – he must have heard them shouting and dragged himself over.

He sounded tired. He sounded quiet.

He looked at Lan Xichen.

“I was never Meng Yao’s lover,” he said. “Not now, not before, not ever. And Xichen…you knew that, didn’t you?”