#she decided that if her self delusion was intense enough she could stop pretending to care when he pushes her too far

[nicollekidman]

it's always two impossible bitches with delusions of self control and a collapsing black star of obsession telling each other "let's keep going, it's not an addiction if we don't ever try and stop"

[yan-genshin]

- warnings: general yandere content (nothing super hardcore imo, since jean is so righteous she isn’t a super intense yandere), some minor spoilers for jean’s story.

♥︎  jean gunnhildr

jean has decided to dedicate her entire life to protecting mondstadt- she’s given up the usual life of most young ladies, spending her days hard at work, getting little to no sleep and time for herself for the sake of the city she loves

because of this, it just... catches her off guard when she realizes she’s harboring such strong feelings for someone. jean loves all of mondstadt and its citizens, but this is... different. it’s stronger, all-consuming; enough so it gets in the way of her everyday life

it’s perhaps one of her deepest secrets how... dearly she craves love. days of her childhood (and sometimes evenings when she allows herself some rest) spent reading romance novels, jean has always longed for a soft and reciprocated love, for the gentle emotions that are so delicately portrayed in words in those novels

“thank you, master jean! i’m so sorry for taking up your time for this...” the way they sheepishly thank her after she did something as minor as help them carry their food to their home makes her heart flutter. it’s no shock the acting grandmaster would be helping a citizen with a mundane task- it’s common for everyone to ask for her help with any task no matter how menial or odd. and yet, despite the fact she’s always running around working or helping, she only feels butterflies in her stomach when this particular person thanks her. she thinks of her romance novels- thinks of those words of love, emotions gentle and fragile like silk. but... that’s not quite it; as they walk into their house, jean feels her heart twisting, feels a dark side of her brain whispering little nothings that she tries to brush off. she quickly tries to brush off the dark emotions clouding her mind as she walks back to her office, resisting the urge to look back and try to catch a glimpse of them as they organize their groceries through the window.

she tells herself she’s a knight of favonius before she’s a person, that her duty is more important than any emotion. but like a persistent weed, ignoring her emotions only makes them grow stronger and more intense. she finds herself thinking of them the second her mind strays from whatever she’s doing, and then they’re always in her head even while she works- she finds herself giving little excuses to see them, help them even before they ask despite the fact that she’s got more work waiting for her in her office

those closer to her, such as kaeya and lisa, don’t have to make much of an effort to notice how the acting grandmaster is suddenly so centered on someone. and to all others, it seems sweet; they want jean to be happy, they want her to live her life a little. whenever they try to push her to get a break or rest, they always try to push her closer to her “crush”. as outsiders see it, this is the acting grandmaster finally doing something for herself

... if only anyone could tell how deep the rabbit hole goes, perhaps they’d be desperately trying to get jean away from her beloved instead of pushing them closer. it can’t be blamed that noone can tell- jean keeps herself regal and formal at all times, composed attitude hiding the downright obsessive tendencies and thoughts that swirl around her head, as if intoxicated by the mere thought of her beloved

it’s the middle of the night. mondstadt sleeps- the taverns have long since closed, even drunk bards and citizens having crawled back to their homes to sleep. and yet, jean is awake, finally having finished her workload for the day. it’s not unusual for her to finish work so late, and it’s not unheard of for her to take a walk at said hour to unwind; but it’s definitely weird to see her as she stands in front of a house’s window, just watching. the rational part of her brain tells her to step away, to stop doing this, but the other side of her- the side of her that longs for love, that can’t think of anything but them- just fuels her desire to stay, to watch them sleep through the window. she can’t even register that she’s quite literally stalking them; as she watches them, her heart fills with a warmth and possessiveness she’s never felt before. this isn’t the same type of love she feels for mondstadt- no, this is perhaps, jean’s first intensely selfish desire in a long time

jean is more subtle in her obsession. while to others she might come off as lovestruck or like she’s a young woman exploring her first crush, that’s far from the truth. she’d never dare use the knights or their resources for her own personal desires; jean takes it upon herself to sate her increasingly selfish heart. it’s almost stalkerish how she always seems to make time to keep an eye on her darling, be it when she has to run an errand or once she finishes work at ungodly hours of the night

it only grows worse when they begin to stop by her office, be it to drop off some snacks or just say hi. of course she suspects that lisa or kaeya put them up to it- after all, those two always worry over how hard she works, and it wouldn’t be farfetched to think that they’d go so far to ask the person they know jean likes to come and cheer her up. their actions, while well-meaning, only seem to feed the monster growing in jean’s heart; the domesticity she craves, the soft love she craves so badly, now that she’s gotten a taste of it, how is she supposed to return to her everyday life...?

“master jean, are you sure these knights should be promoted to patrolling outside the city...? they’ve been working as inner city guards for years now...” an older knight stares at the new orders jean has just issued. his concerns may be genuine, but she isn’t one to make hasty decisions. she nods her head, taking the paper from his hands and pointing at the names of the inner city knights to be sent out for patrols.

“it’s precisely because they’ve been working inside the city for so long that they’re being sent out. i have personally seen them train- their skills in battle are great, and we need our strongest knights out in the paths where hilichurls have been setting up camps. the troops that have been patrolling for long now grow weary; it’ll be good to switch them out for some time.” as with every decision she makes, jean always thinks of mondstadt before anything else. and yet, this time, there’s a secondary factor to her order. the memory of accidentally stumbling into her beloved being chatted up by one of the knights stationed inside of mondstadt burns in her mind, the way he was so clearly trying to flirt with them, making them giggle and blush- she might have stepped in and reprimanded the knight for slacking on the job, but that wasn’t enough. in the list of knights to be sent to patrol outside, his name seemed to almost stand out to her- he’d be fine, assigned to a well-traveled route with little incidents; but he’d be far away from her beloved, and that was good enough for her

perhaps it’s lucky that jean trusts the knights so much, that she considers her darling to be safe inside of the city. she must protect mondstadt; she must keep her darling close. jean can feel the shame burning at her gut when she twists some strings to offer them a job as a secretary of the knights- she’s abusing her power, she’s being selfish, but... isn’t she allowed to at least once do something for herself? the job is well paid, it’s not like she’s manipulating them into it, she’s just helping them out; all of the knights seem to be happy that the acting grandmaster is taking on someone to help tackle her ridiculous workload, so it’s all... it’s all fine, isn’t it...?

it’s hard for her to pinpoint where her self restraint breaks. perhaps it’s just because her heart can’t take spending so much time around her darling while keeping up a semblance of professionalism, or perhaps it’s hearing them cheerily speak of their friends and people they’re close with that lights a fire of jealousy in her; it’s as easy as one day jean simply embracing them and pressing her lips to theirs with no warning

it doesn’t matter if they feel the same way. it’s incredibly off-putting once they realize that the composed, regal, and rational acting grandmaster is so delusional. it’s as if days and days of hard work make some part of her rationale just break. this is her perfect romance. this is her perfect love story, and she’ll make it so no matter what

it’s so hard to be mad or to run away. jean is gentle in her affections, but she’s strong. and perhaps more pressuring of it all, she’s now their boss- they happily accepted to work under her, and even though she never even implies it, it’s not hard to imagine she could fire them just as easily. it’s easier to put up with it, to let her indulge her delusions, to make them sit on her lap while she works, to let her brush their hair and snuggle into them, if once the workday is over they can head home and lock the door, try to forget the day and go on with their life until they’re once again going to be in a locked office with her all day

“i love you so much. i promise i’ll never leave you.” jean’s words are sweet, but the soft tone she speaks in doesn’t do much to help how her darling tenses. she’s just returned from a mission that took a couple of days- it’s rare for her to take on fieldwork nowadays, but when she does, it’s almost a prized break for them. and when she returns, she’s worse than ever; clinging to them, not letting them even pretend to try and do their “work” as secretary. she might say her parents splitting and not having had a regular childhood doesn’t affect her, but by the way she swears to never leave, holding them tightly as if she’s scared they’ll run, it’s not hard for them to hazard and guess that she might be trying to fill the void of affection she never had with them.

she’s never hurt them, perhaps her instincts to protect all citizens of mondstadt being stronger than her obsession- but there’s times when she’s come close to it, they can tell by the way her eyes look when they push away, when they try to make excuses to leave work early. there’s not much they can do. if they quit and told everyone that master jean did all she did, who would believe them? nobody in mondstadt would ever believe jean, beloved by all of mondstadt, who works until late into night for the sake of the city, would ever do anything negative to a citizen. they could try to run away, but they don’t have a doubt in their heart that she’d catch them (she’s so much stronger, so much faster. she’s blessed with a vision, trained since birth. and them? they’re just a citizen, someone who’s been protected by the knights all their life). as she holds them close, they can feel her heartbeat; surely she can feel theirs, too. her heart beats fast with love, theirs with anxiety. she takes a deep breath and speaks again. “i think it’s time we moved in together, don’t you think...?”

[lividian]

Wat up, I'm here to bitch about stuff.

A good 90% of my life is straight pain and struggle right now. I spend every day trying to distract myself from how I'm feeling, whether that's through sitting on facebook watching slime videos for hours, doing schoolwork for even more hours, or doing regular things and pretending everything is fine. I try to make myself believe that I'm ok. Not say I'm never going to be ok, but I'm having a hard time dealing with all the shit life is throwing at me; has been throwing at me, for years.

I took off that mask yesterday, and I feel like I've been emotionally flayed. I'm raw and feeling all those little fragments of emotion I was protecting myself from, all at once. I've been in bed for the past 3 hours or so, thinkin about life and what mine is trying to teach me. Writing helps and I'm really open abt my mental health struggles, so I figured I'd pour it all out on here so maybe it could help someone or something.

A lot of my stressors include other people, so for their privacy, I'm going to use aliases.

Have you ever done something completely against your values/beliefs and wondered what underlying causes made you (re)act that way? I try to think about that often bc it tends to give new perspective and shed light on information necessary for changing those behaviors.

I had a tough childhood and now that I'm older, I can see the impact it's had on me for so long. Even things I can barely remember are reflected in my emotional responses and conscious decisions if I pay enough attention. Bc of the trauma and inconsistent relationship I had with my parents, I have varying degrees of trust issues, problems with relationships (platonic, familial, and romantic), and mental illnesses. I've struggled with behavioral problems for a long, long time. At one point, it was thought I had ODD because of the severity of some of my outbreaks.

Fortunately, some of my more unusual symptoms started showing up as early as 7. I had been placed in the custody of close family a couple years before that, who sought professional help when my depression and visual hallucinations first appeared. I was in counseling from that point on and began seeing psychiatrists at the age of 13, all of that lasted until I turned 19 and lost my medicaid.

Shortly after I started experiencing various mental health problems, I went into sort of a "dark age" and I don't remember much, like there's a big blind spot in my memories. There are some memories that survived and I've clung to, because I don't have much left from that time period. It lasted until about when I started taking psychiatric medications. And about that time, I started to experience extreme mood swings which resulted in damn near anything, from self harm and suicide attempts to violent outbursts and severe paranoia and delusions. These only increased in intensity until I was kicked out at the age of 17.

*I was hurt by that for a long time which fueled poor decision after poor decision, but I have forgiven both myself and my family bc all that anger and pain and guilt was doing was holding me back. I appreciate everything my family has done for me and I hold them very dear to my heart, especially in times of hardship.*

That's some back story for ya. A lot has happened since then, and maybe I'll talk about it some other time, but I'd really like to focus on the present.

My biggest source of pain currently is the fact that my daughter, Acacia, is in one state and I'm in another. I miss her terribly and every day I sit and think about how I've failed her. I want to be a source of joy for her, but right now she's hurting because her mother is gone and she doesn't understand why. We facetime, but she tells me that she doesn't like me and she's sad. It breaks my heart that she's dealing with such big emotions and I can't even be there to comfort her. But I'm also very grateful she's surrounded by people who love her and we can talk every day. It's really hard, and I'm usually in a lot of pain after we hang up, but I will always be there for her. I have to be the mother she needs me to be so I'm going to have to make some tough decisions. I'm not going to talk abt this anymore bc it's too much for me right now.

I'm in another state living with my husband, Onyx, and I feel utterly and completely alone. We left bc we were evicted back home and the only place we could go was his parents'. He shut me out a long time ago, but the homesickness is amplifying my feelings of isolation. Due to some of the toxicity in our relationship, I burned many bridges with friends and family, and aside from my 2 best friends (who I rarely talk to anymore) I have no one. Many days I beg Onyx for affection or communication or some semblance that he still loves me, but my efforts are futile. Weve been having the same fight for nearly half a year. I bring up something that's bothering me, and he becomes angry and says "it's always something", in some form or another I try to remind him that we have to work on the issues in our relationship at some point if we want things to get better, this is where he usually gets defensive and says something something along the lines of "I always need 'more or too much'". From that point, I've learned to just be quiet bc our problems are suddenly my fault and he will do everything in his power to deflect and shame if I try to get him to own up to his negative behaviors that hurt me almost every second.

I saw the red flags a long time ago, but I had hope. Hope that has now completely withered away bc I know he won't change, at least not anytime soon. I can see it in his face when I try to have any form of an adult conversation with him. The way he just barely squints his eyes while I'm talking, the smirk that I try to convince myself isn't real bc it's so slight, the overall look of complete apathy.

I've tried leaving before, several times and one period of 5 months, but I wanted to make things work bc we got married this year. He told me it would make me more consistent and I wouldn't feel like leaving all the time, but let me tell you, I feel like leaving all the time. I've told him about my plans to go back home, without him. I've told him I would stay if he would be a part of this relationship too bc I can't be with someone who is the source of so much of my pain. You know that saying, "you can't make someone love you if they don't want to"? It's true, fucking painfully true. I've found myself holding on to tiny shreds of hope here and there, making myself believe that he'll try in small gestures like a kiss or laying his head on me. But I've been doing that for too long. I have made sacrifices for him over and over to the point where I don't recognize myself anymore. I've stopped talking to wonderful ppl bc it made him uncomfortable. I'll admit it, I kissed a guy back the night after we decided to be mutually exclusive. I talked to an ex love interest for a period of time abt how I was struggling in my relationship w Onyx. But I apologized, owned up to those behaviors, and made changes. I don't deserve for those things to be held over my head and brought up in almost every fight bc yes, I fucked up, but I did what I had to do to fix things. At a certain point, you have to be accountable for how you let your hurt and anger manifest.

So now I'm leaving bc I have to get back to my daughter and get in a better environment, but I don't know how or when. Like I said earlier, I ruined a lot of relationships try to preserve the one that was ruining me. But I'm really stuck out here, I've never been able to hold a job in my working career, and even if I could, I'm also taking several online college classes (that's been a bitch too) so I can't work more than part time and even that would jeopardize my mental health. I'm really stuck and so frustrated and I'm sorry that this has been a super long post. Like I said, I'm just bitching about life. I know the most sucky situations bring about the most growth.

For those of you who are curious, my diagnoses are PTSD, atypical OCD, and persistent depression w mood incongruent psychotic features.

Also: Besides being a good talker, I'm also a great listener. If you're struggling right now, I'm here for u.

[glitchinthesystemspiderbyte]

[18] Glitch in the System - Ways & Means

By E. A swan song and some hacker feelings happen.

–

Their time at the chateau quickly turned into a stream of consciousness marked not by the passing of time but by the fluctuation of touch, sense, and feeling. They woke when they woke, slept when they slept, worked when they felt restless, and stopped when the time felt right. There was no pressing schedule, no overarching timeline, and contrary to her usual modus operandi, Sombra was loving every second of it. Usually the hacker found relaxation difficult, preferring to immerse herself in schemes and projects to avoid the unbearable sense of idleness boredom evoked. For some reason being at the chateau, absent Talon’s ever-present agenda, freed her from this self-imposed obligation.

Oh, she still dreamed her dreams of power and unraveling the secrets of the world’s elite, but for a couple brief weeks she was satisfied by discovering the smaller secrets of the old mansion: getting lost in the catacombs among cold stones and ancient bottles of wine and throwing her translocator as high and far as she could in an effort to explore the spires and alcoves otherwise unreachable. It was quaint in comparison with her usual pursuits, but if there was anything Sombra had learned over the past few months, it was that mundane things often brought one the greatest amount of pleasure.

Simple things, like her slowly growing something with the spider.

That first night had broken down whatever physical barriers may have remained between them as effectively as a sledgehammer against glass. Sometimes the spider’s touch was still hesitant, still flavored by her distrust of her own ability to express her need, heralded by a slight furrow of the brows as she reminded herself what it took to cross that bridge they were still building between themselves. Other times some of that need broke past the sniper’s emotional firewall and Sombra would find herself with her back pressed suddenly against a cold chateau wall as Widow greeted her collarbone with teeth and insistence, hands roving along and under the pyjamas she resolutely refused to change out of unless they were leaving the house. Truth be told, she enjoyed the sniper’s unpredictability, even if she knew that it came from a place of pain and confusion.

Their days, while unwrote, soon gained some semblance of a pattern. Sombra always, always woke up first, but sometimes the hacker would feign sleep to allow Widowmaker the opportunity to rouse her, occasionally with a featherlight trail of kisses from the middle of her back to her ears, and more often with the press of fingers along the inside of her hips, urging her to wake. Sometimes she simply felt her staring, and would smile surreptitiously into her pillow, because she often did the same.

On that very first night together, Sombra found that she fit perfectly against Widowmaker’s shoulder, pressed against her like a puzzle piece she hadn’t even known was missing, but now that she’d found it the picture was so much clearer and so much more beautiful to behold.

After the second night, she wondered how she’d ever slept soundly before that discovery.

Sometimes, without warning, Widowmaker smiled. Not the shy half smile she reserved for casual humor or jabs at Sombra’s endless antics, but a real, true smile that spawned from whatever light she had lingering inside. Since coming to the chateau, they were still rare, but far more common than before.

They worked on the chateau together, sorting through old boxes and sweeping up debris blown in by the constant, cold wind that came in off the lake. On the third day it brought snow with it, and their day’s work became shutting windows and hanging tarps to keep the weather at bay as they continued painting, buffing, and reorganizing the place. Their first notable success was resurrecting one of the many sitting rooms, picking out the most comfortable, plush chairs to sit before the fire. Watching Widow struggle to coax warmth out of the old fireplace, Sombra thought for a moment that this cold and desolate palace of stone might, in fact, become a home some day.

Another metaphor to mull.

They each chose the tasks that suited them, but Widowmaker insisted they complete them together.

“There is no roof for you to run to,” she said, citing Sombra’s tantrum in the garden with a wry smile.

“Only because I can’t throw my translocator far enough,” the hacker laughed in response, picking up a broom. They worked side by side each day. Sombra held her breath whenever the spider left the room; smiled each time she returned, whether with a scowl at the sheer amount of work that still needed to be done or two glasses of wine and a kiss, suggesting they take a break along the terrace before the cold became too bitter for the hacker to stand. The sniper would hold her as they sipped from crystal glasses, silently charting the stars, and Sombra would pretend that her cold blue embrace kept the icy wind at bay. Despite the elements and despite the chill of the sniper’s touch, it was the middle of December in an empty chateau on the lake, and Sombra had never felt more warm in her life.

A first her feelings made her nervous, often teetering on the edge of second thoughts. Eventually, like all moments in her life where the risk of failure was outshone by the potential reward, she embraced the intensity of her situation and decided to live within it until it cooled to a manageable glow. Historically, this had worked out well for her, and the instances in which she’d been burned left her with scars to learn and grow from.

Running a finger lightly over the welts the sniper had raised along her back that afternoon, she smiled and thought that these scars might be of an altogether different nature, and that she might not mind sporting them at all.

Their voices echoed in the basement of the chateau, bouncing back on them a second after speaking and creating a cacophony that made choosing which wine to have for dinner a difficult task at best. It drove Widow to distraction, but Sombra found the whole thing amusing, and never minded hearing the spider’s words repeated by the house she owned. Widow had developed a way of saying Sombra’s name that elicited the gamut of reactions in her, from an electric spark of laughter to a heat that began in her chest and spread in spirals down her body.

“Sombra,” she’d say in the morning, sleepy and absent the dread of consciousness that colored most of her speech. The hacker would take advantage of this unburdened state, responding with kisses in an effort to help beat back the void that colored the sniper’s waking hours. It was always there; it would always be there, but she was finding a way to live with it regardless.

“Sombra!” she’d snap when she realized the hacker had replaced all of their food with awful, sugary cereal. It was the same way she’d subsequently shout her name for the next hour she spent tracking her down in a game of hide and seek, following Sombra’s muted laughter as she raced through the endless tunnels of the gigantic chateau to avoid the spider’s wrath. Eventually Widow started cheating, using her visor to find Sombra’s hiding places, but the game never became less fun.

“Sombra,” she’d sigh, shaking her head at finding Toulouse yet again making his bed within the ancient cupboards on a fresh blanket that he certainly had not dragged there himself.

“Sombra,” she’d nearly cry into her ear, flushed skin against flushed skin, bodies held together through clenched fists and insistent fingers. That she would repeat, over and over until exhausted, body curled against the hacker’s warmth as she clutched her close. Sometimes she would just breathe, chest rising and falling as her pulse slowed like a receding tide; sometimes she’d cry, from silent tears to racking wails as her body and mind fought whatever demon had decided to break free from Talon’s cage in that moment of vulnerability. Sombra never asked - she just held her, whispering the same soothing lullabies she remembered her mother imparting before she died, hoping the spider would eventually find the solace she so desperately sought.

Sombra knew that this trip to the chateau was a swan song of sorts; a final hurrah for the tentative dance they’d been doing for months, even before they’d come to Venice. It wasn’t sustainable, really - not at the pace they were running in between sleepy pre-dawn kisses and forgotten paint cans, overturned in a fit of midday passion when a passing touch ignited something much hungrier than the chateau’s need for an interior face-lift. Eventually the wild, boundless ardour, unrestrained by mission timelines, Talon’s machinations, and plans for world dominance would, necessarily, end. When it did, this dance would either shift from a fevered samba into a choreographed waltz, or it would fizzle out entirely under the pressure of a Talon operative’s daily life.

She’d be lying to herself if she didn’t admit that this hovering reality picked away at her sometimes, usually at night when the sniper fell inexplicably into a deep and easy sleep, leaving Sombra awake, mind racing. She hadn’t ever engaged in anything of this emotional magnitude, and the intensity of their external situation heightened it to an almost desperate, frenetic pace. She was used to, and comfortable with, manipulation and bids for greater and greater power; she was not accustomed to vulnerability or gentle passing kisses as she watched the sunrise over Lake Annecy.

It was strange. It was stranger that she enjoyed it. Dismissing the endless permutations of what might happen, she chose to focus on what was happening. She’d given Widowmaker that advice once; she may as well take it herself.

Would this brief interruption of gentleness in a life otherwise ruled by brutality change her plans for the future? She doubted it, truly - there was too much in motion and too much at stake. She entertained no delusions of ‘happily ever after’ or throwing in the towel to settle down, as tempting as fresh baguettes and morning mimosas on a sunlit terrace were. This was an interlude; a precious, unexpected, and necessary interlude in what was otherwise an adrenaline-fueled race to the top. There would be more bodies, more blackmail, more manipulation, and more chaos.

This would not change what Sombra had in store for herself, Talon, and the world at large.

What it might change, though, was why.

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