#the way i feel about them cannot be explained by simple words like platonic or romantic

[autistic-echo]

the thing i have the biggest beef with in the witcher netflix is the fact that the writers seem to. like. not like jaskier. like they make geralt be a dick to him “i’m not your friend” and then have geralt turn around and be friendly and affectionate with loads of other characters. moussack “old friend”, that flashback with eskel, “you’re important to me, triss” why can’t we get this same energy with jaskier. begging for a proper apology in season 3 that jaskier doesn’t have to basically fish out of geralt my dude deserves better

[poisonousquinzel]

my main issue with Harlivy not being monogamous is that the idea exists solely because DC is homophobic. I think, in some worlds, they could have a healthy poly relationship, obviously I love harliva (Gotham City Sirens), I stand by that this would be a wonderful dynamic if ya know written by competent and skilled writers who actually understand all their characters.

And frankly I dont feel like Harley is one who typically would be okay with sharing the person she's in love with. she's just not. maybe in a case where she and the person she's in love with / dating are both also in love with another, who's equally into the both of them.

But

That's not what's happening in Harley & Ivy's comics right now. That's not what's ever happened with this "open relationship".

I think Mason was healthy and sweet for Harley, from what I remember, but Ivy didn't love him and he didn't love Ivy. It's understandable to a degree, Ivy's reasonings and such, and in a different world with better writers I think that aspect could have been explored and developed.

Because Ivy does, truly, deeply, love Harley, and the idea she would be okay with Harley having hookups, etc, could be explained in a way that would make sense. Particularly during the part of Harley's arc that the 2014/2016 comics were, well, were supposed to be, dealing with.

She's freshly broken up with Joker, not really fully into a healing phase either, and isn't in the right mindset to be like settling down and thinking of Forever again. Harlivy's relationship is strong and built on friendship, so even in the beginning there while their relationship isn't Platonic, it's not "Officially Dating", Ivy knows how deeply Harley also cares about her. She also knows Harley isn't in a good place, and neither was she.

So her being okay, or outright happy for Harley, being loved by other people would make some sense because all Ivy's tried to do their whole friendship is prove that she deserved better, that she deserved to be loved and cherished. And as long as whoever is the pick of the month for Harley is someone who makes her feel happy and loved, then Ivy wouldn't feel jealous over it because damn, good for her being so happy messing around with someone who isn't as nasty and cruel as Joker. And it wouldn't take away from the real underlying feelings the two women have for one another.

But, again, that's not what this is. And it is now a "dynamic" that's bled into both Poison Ivy (2022) and Harley Quinn (2021), and has ultimately (due to the sheer lack of shown conversations or anything) devolved to borderline cheating.

In all honestly, this isn't a thing that'd exist if she was still with Joker and him alone. 1000%.

She would be with him and him only and would be depressed, insecure and jealous if he had a "friend" like Janet who he'd fucked before and continued to keep around.

This concept was only introduced because DC wouldn't allow for Harlivy to be openly in a monogamous relationship in 2014/2016. This is the company that in 2013 lost both the artist and writer for the Batwoman comic (artist: JH Williams III and writer: W. Haden Blackman) due to the company refusing to allow them to show Kate get married. It's not ooc for them to have refused to let them be monogamous, especially since Harlivy wasn't even allowed to be shown kissing on the lips at the time.

cause forbid sapphic women are allowed to be shown being outright loving and romantic with each other and doing something as ridiculously simple and mundane as a lip kiss, but having Ivy grab her ass in front of two dudes is totally okay cause it's hot.

it's so hot in fact that they needed to add in Tool dude, a fucking loser ass creep, saying "homina" in response to getting to see these two hot ladies like this. It seems like this is supposed to be a version of "Hummina"

Wiktionary: used to express that one has a strong reaction that cannot be expressed in words, especially when expressing embarrassment or sexual attraction.

Urban Dictionary: gibberish used to convey excitement or immediate sexual attraction to someone that takes your breath away.

Or the definitions for "Homina" itself

Urban Dictionary: A word, normally repeated three times, to express shock, befuddlement, or general speechlessness. Often when looking at a particularly attractive member of the speaker's favored sex

-

A sound you make when you see someone very attractive and beautiful. Similar to "hubba-hubba" or "a-woo-gah a-woo-gah" or "rwaaaarrr!"

[AND! I think the dynamics with her relationships with Joker and Ivy during the Mad Love arc is ridiculously complex and cannot be boiled down to "she cheats on him with Ivy so its in character for them to not be monogamous" because it takes away all context of both relationships and the mental state she'd have been in during that arc that was directly caused by him.

Her hooking up with Ivy while still being on / off again with Joker, a man who had broken her mind, her bones and her self esteem, is not at all similar or equatable to the pointless, ooc strange plot threads that've been published recently that frankly are just starting to feel like it's playing into biphobic stereotypes]

anyyyhoo, those are my thoughts<3 I have to finish cleaning my room now I sporadically wrote this on a short break SKDJSJKSKSKS

[easy-revenge]

Do you think Aki liked Himeno romantically or that he would have liked her in that way if Makima hadn't put him under her control?

i got another ask almost identical to this so im answering for both here.

there are a lot of ways to interpret this. I'll speak on what I think based on canon and what i also headcanon about them.

its difficult for me to analyse aki's romantic feelings for both himeno and angel. I've kind of been going around it. i always get somewhere and then im like: he doesn't have free will, though. he's not in control of his feelings at all. and boom, everything is debunked.

however, based on canon, i think there was some kind of attraction. im not sure if it was strictly romantic, or sexual. i think there was a strong connection between them. strong enough for a seemingly cold and collected guy like aki to feel comfortable with physical proximity and even platonic intimacy.

its safe to assume that aki knew about himeno's feelings for him. or rather, he had the info for it. ive gotten the impression that he turned a blind eye to it, not rly intentionally but not subconsciously either.

it could be bc of makima, or bc of his own hesitance. himeno is his friend and his mentor and she's flirty with everyone so maybe she doesn't mean it. that kind of thing. maybe he didn't know how he felt, didn't really know how to interpret the type of love he felt. maybe he didn't do anything bc he was dying soon.

there's always the possibility of him not being interested ofc. it just doesn't feel right to me. we've seen aki around ppl he considers friends. the energy between him and himeno is charged in a way that betrays...something...on his part as well.

personally i headcanon that he did like her. again, maybe romantically is a strong word for it. i think he understands the dependency she has on him and i feel like aki gets fulfillment from being needed. having someone to protect. that builds a bond.

i think there's attraction on his part too. i cant rly explain it beyond like getting the vibe from their scenes together. i think there is enough attraction for them to have slept together a couple times, which aki doesn't feel great about bc himeno is in love with him and he thinks he is in love with makima.

if makima didn't exist, do i think they'd be together? i dont know. i literally cannot tell or decide whether aki could be properly in love with himeno, even if he was in complete control of his mind, or if their closeness came from a place of need for something to make them whole and not healthy romantic attraction.

this is all over the place im sorry lmao but it think this mess is representative of aki's mind in a way.

he's stuck up on revenge. he doesn't know himself. makes a point of it. he performs as this character he's created to make his goal possible and he's not even good at it.

he feels this inexplicable pull towards makima and somehow fits it comfortably into his life. he's probably not meant to rly pursue her, the crush is probably supposed to work as motivation and drive.

we cant really expect this man to have the capacity to break down a bond between two very broken ppl. that's why i think I'll never be able to answer basic questions like these without going on for paragraphs and paragraphs.

i cant see it ever being that simple for them, sadly.

[frodispatch]

Looking at the soundtrack of Stranger Things, the song “The First I love You” has been discussed a lot, I know. Mainly with the “love” being in lowercase, as the “love” is not real, or at least not romantic. It’s played during when El tells mike she loves him and they have that brutal kiss at the end of season 3, right before the Byers’s are going to move. (Mikes eyes are open, he looks absolutely horrified during and afterwards. it’s intentional, I’m sure.) It’s also played during Robin’s coming out to Steve, meaning that their love is not romantic. It’s Steve’s first “I love you” as it was El’s to Mike’s, but the other side cannot reciprocate due to them being queer. I’m sure this has been said before, and in much better ways, but I thought I’d just type something out.

NOW for how this connects to s4!

I’ve been kind of pissed at s4 since it’s the big director-heavy bash that goes too long that I’ve been mad about ever since watching It Ch2 (which I love a lot nonetheless, despite its way too heavy use of jump scares, etc. that’s got another time, I mainly like it so much because it’s adapted from my favorite book and I love the cast but I think the miniseries did the adult losers much better on a simple scale) and Wonder Woman 1984.

But despite how I feel about s4 not connecting to my dad-and-I’s big-scale analysis of s1-3 that we have developed over many car rides through New England, I made a connection that happens to explain all of this to me and prove why the “love” being lowercase is significant.

While Robin is trying to tell Nancy that her and Steve are not romantically involved, she says “Platonic with a capital P” showing that the word with the capital is the true and significant one. If the love is not capitalized between El and Mike, it shows that it’s not romantic.

I hope that came out clearly haha. Thank you for reading this if you did read this far.

[klixxy]

Genshin Fic Recs

so... i ventured into the vast world of Google looking for some good GI fic recs... only to find such a pitiful amount that i was promptly devastated. therefore, the solution is to make my own! :D

keep in mind most of these will be ChiLi or XingYun, and yes, i will try not to include smut unless it was one i really really liked. if anyone wants a separate list for just smut (though that will most likely be shorter) i can try to make one later.`

ft. my bookmark comments :)

CHILI

wrapped up in pure gold by beyondwinter

(chili; accidental marriage; chili/childe-centric; 22k words; ongoing)

"Do you understand its meaning, Childe?" He finally asks. There's a hard glint in his eyes, like he's trying to steel himself for his answer.

"Yeah." Loyalty and devotion, right? Between business partners? "I do. It's traditional, isn't it?"

Zhongli's eyes glow a warm amber in the near darkness, reflecting the soft shine of the lanterns. He studies his face with a strange intensity, as though Childe were a piece of high quality Nocticulous Jade being sold for suspiciously small sum and he's trying to find the blemishes that would explain the price. The weight of his gaze should be uncomfortable, boring into him like he can see into the very depths of his abyss-tainted soul, but Childe finds himself preening under the attention instead.

Childe accidentally proposes to Zhongli. Zhongli accepts.

The World is Water by Millereflets

(chili; smut; hurt/comfort; chili-centric; 7k words; oneshot)

Childe doesn't visit Zhongli until it's almost too late.

(my bookmarks: HOW DO YOU MAKE A SMUT SCENE SO POETIC HOLY SHITTTTT)

Set in Stone by seredemia

(chili; fake dating au; angst; some smut?; chili/chiilde-centric; 55k words; ongoing)

What do you do when you write about a certain six thousand year old consultant so much in your letters that it somehow convinces your entire family you're not only dating each other, but that you're also engaged?

In Childe's case, the answer is plain and simple: he goes along with it, of course. Absolutely nothing can go wrong if he makes a contract with the God of Contracts, vowing that the two of them will pretend to be lovers for the duration of his family's stay in Liyue. Afterwards, they'll return as normal and speak no more of this mess. No feelings or complications involved whatsoever.

Contract accepted. A fool-proof plan set in stone. Right?

Private Ledger of the Eleventh Harbinger by JuHuaTai

(chili; humor; getting together; chili/ekaterina-centric; 5k words; oneshot)

“So guess what I did next?”

Ekaterina contemplated not answering, but Harbinger Tartaglia was just… grinning and waiting. It’s honestly rather creepy the longer time passed.

In the end, she gave a long suffering sigh that seems lost on him, “You bought him the Erhu—“

“I bought him the antique, cor lapis based Erhu,”

-

When she first left her homeland for the unknown nation of Liyue, Ekaterina was ready to be many things: To be a soldier, to fell Tsaritsa’s enemies in her name, to bring glory to Snezhnaya and her leader.

Being a receptionist in a cozy bank wasn’t so bad in comparison, but she absolutely can do without the front row seat to Harbinger Tartaglia’s (expensive) love life.

i know i'm where i'm meant to go by paperclips (pastel_paperclips)

(chili; humor; fluff; chili-centric; 12k words; ongoing)

"Childe," Zhongli says suddenly. "I am enjoying myself greatly." Childe’s face breaks into a grin. "Then-" Zhongli gasps, grabbing his wrist and tugging him over to an unsuspecting peddler with a cart full of rocks. "Is that an intrusive igneous pegmatite formed in the Inazuma regions?" Childe’s grin smooths into a small, adoring smile. He has all the time in the world to figure the other man out.

OR: Finding the Geo Archon is on Childe's to-do list but hanging out with Zhongli is significantly more fun.

CHILIVEN

Crumbling Stone by avtorSola

(chiliven; ANGST; PAIN; mind control; zhongli-centric; 74k words; ongoing)

When Morax unleashes his plan to test the Liyue Qixing and his adepti, he does not take into account the stirring of the Abyss Order in the north and the corruption of Dvalin - for why would he fear an organization that works in such shadows? He is secure in his power, after all, unlike his flighty ex, the absentee archon of Mondstadt who rises only when his people are in danger.

But, somehow, the Abyss Order discovers his plan. Somehow, they capitalize on it. And he, the God of Stone who cannot sicken, is struck down - taken by an order bent on destroying all of humanity as Liyue crumbles around him. For even Archons aren't immune to Durin's blood, and Morax is no exception. But then the question becomes - if even Archons may fall to the agony of this corrupting burn - how is their traveling friend Aether immune?

The answer comes from beyond the stars - an ancient malice that knows no kindness or mercy. A malice whose legacy the Abyss Order now bears, seeking to topple all the Archons and their people into the void of utter destruction. And they have begun in Liyue.

Fortunately, it takes a long time to erode stone.

(my bookmarks: IM SCREAMING AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA)

PLATONIC ZHONGVEN

left-behind city by trixstar

(platonic zhongven; angst; ANGST; venti-centric; 1k words; oneshot)

"An associate of mine has just informed me that Rex Lapis, the Geo Archon has been assassinated."

Venti blinks.

Or: Venti and how he copes with finding out he is all that remains.

i circle ten thousand years long; and i still do not know if i am a falcon, a storm, or an unfinished song by birdsofpassage

(platonic zhongven; angst; hurt/comfort; zhongven-centric; 4k words; oneshot)

Venti and Zhongli, and the vignettes of a much-needed vacation around Mondstadt.

(my bookmarks: ; - ;      ;  -  ; )

oh ye with little faith by air_fried_air

(platonic zhongven; angst; hurt/comfort; zhongven-centric; 2k words; oneshot)

Two former archons do a little tour around Mondstadt.

(my bookmarks: why are all genshin angst fics so melancholy.... i feel so empty)

the wind through the mountain tops by glassdrachma

(platonic zhongven; humor; hurt/comfort; zhongven-centric; 21k words; finished)

Boredom brings Barbatos of Mondstadt to bother a certain ex-Archon of the Earth.

(my bookmarks: venti zhongli friendship venti zhongli friendship venti zhongli friendship venti zhongli friendship venti zhongli friendship venti zhongli friendship venti zhongli friendship venti zhongli friendship venti zhongli friendship venti zhongli friendship venti zhongli friendship venti zhongli friendship venti zhongli friendship venti zhongli friendship venti zhongli friendship venti zhongli friendship venti zhongli friendship-)

XINGYUN

the art of exorcism by Agried

(xingyun; ghost au; hurt/comfort; chongyun-centric; 9k words; oneshot)

On the road back from one of his jobs, Chongyun runs into Xingqiu, the wandering swordsman. And then they keep meeting, over and over again. or, alternately; how a ghost and an exorcist learn how to love, one step at a time.

Bane of All Evil by tzitzimeme

(xingyun; humor; romance; chongyun-centric; 24k words; hiatus)

When Chongyun unintentionally offends Liyue's second most powerful adepti, he vows to mend the thorny relationship between Adeptus Xiao and human exorcists-- even though no one has succeeded in currying Xiao's favor for over a thousand years.

His best friend Xingqiu offers to come alone, mainly because he's worried about what kind of trouble Chongyun will run into. Along the way, they receive help from others: Xiangling packs them meals for their journeys, while Zhongli gives them advice on what demons to track.

Childe is just there because he thinks the whole thing is hilarious.

[On indefinite hiatus due to burnout; sorry!]

kiss me slowly (so i don't forget) by xiwangmu

(xingyun; humor; romance; light angst; xingqiu-centric; 8k words; oneshot)

Wangshu Inn Bulletin Board

Guest Message: My best friend whom I harbor affections for kissed me last night, but due to his special condition he does not recall a single moment of it. I am quite conflicted about whether to disclose these events to him or not, because that would most certainly require me to confess my feelings as well. If anyone has experience in romancing boys with excessive positive energy, this one humbly asks you to share some advice.

Reply: Our greatest apologies—although we would like to offer some words in response, we simply cannot decipher your handwriting. Perhaps you may return with a neater message next time?

time trials by idlestars

(xingyun/many ships; humor; modern au; xingyun-centric; 2k words; oneshot)

A modern social media AU.

Xingqiu Teases Demons. Chongyun Almost Cries. [The clip shows Xingqiu, lit by the sickly green of night vision, as he stares bored into a dark room. He’s alone - Chongyun left to see if Xingqiu could lure out the ghosts. Xingqiu glances at the camera, smirks, and then opens his mouth.

“Hey demons, it’s me, yah boy.”]

OTHER/GEN

woe be the wallet of the god of wealth by glassdrachma

(gen; humor; identity reveal; keqing/zhongli-centric; 12k words; finished)

Or, the story of how the Yuheng of the Qixing came to idolize, befriend, and discover the identity of the God of Geo, in that order.

(personal comments: hilarious, made me burst out into laughter multiple times, and was just a masterful piece of writing)

to dream of dust by miao_x

(guili/gen; ANGST; hurt/no comfort; zhongli-centric; 5k words; oneshot)

Some nights, Zhongli dreams.

He dreams of soft light, golden song, and a gentle breeze whispering tales of millennia past. It is warm, familiar, and comforting.

It feels like home.

And then he opens his eyes, and awakes to reality.

(my bookmarks: oh zhongli... made me cry)

To drown in your own tears by C_rin_nyan

(guili/gen; ANGST; TEARS; PAIN; zhongli-centric; 2k words; oneshot)

As Rex Lapis, he had never shed a tear, even as he slaughtered hundreds, destruction following his every step. As Zhongli, he had shed much more than he would like to admit, however.

Or, “Zhongli’s soul gave its last scream long ago, yet even now, the echo of said sound was still strong enough to reach Rex Lapis.”

[mardereads19]

A Comparrison between Az’s Chapter and Cassian’s Chapters in Acofas

Today I found myself inspired by @thereaderspeaks ‘s post and what I had to add about it, to write this long-ass post comparing Az’s chapter in Acosf to Cassian’s three chapters in Acofas.

@rhyssescups does an amazing job in this post (and @psychee92 in this one) of comparing Az’s chapter to Cassian’s POV in Wings and Embers. I’ll also attach @psychee92 ‘s comparison of both batboys’ attitudes after their respective solstices. But I’m going to concentrate on Az’s POV and Acofas rather than Wings and Embers.

There are a LOT of things in common, so when you add the posts linked above to this one, you’ll see how Azriel’s emotions and his interaction with Gwyn mirror those of Cassian. Everyday I find more peace of mind regarding Elriel.

Before I begin, I want to clarify that Emerie is not in Wings and Embers, but on Cassian’s perspective in Acofas. I had seen many people on Tumblr and on Twitter saying (by mistake) that she’s in W&E, so I wanted to point that out. It is Mor who is mentioned in W&E. How Cassian does not want to tell her about Nesta, etc. For more on that, check out the links I attached above.

There are many elements that Cassian and Azriel share in their chapters and I decided to divide them into categories. I’ll support them with quotes so that we have the receipts. With that said…

Let’s get started!

1. Distance

In both instances there was something that separated the couples and caused distance. 

In Cassian’s case it was post-war-Nesta and even Cassian himself (it was pride that kept him ignoring her all through the party until he couldn’t take it anymore and ran after her, simple as that): 

In Azriel’s case it was his understanding of what he feels for Elain and the fact that she has a mate. But also, let’s add Rhys’s order as a new element that will cause distance.

2. Emotions

Cassian did not allow himself to think about Nesta because of the feelings that stirred up in him.

Anger, passion, confusion.

And Azriel… 

Well, well, well... What do we have here? 

Anger, passion, confusion. 

He was ready to spar it out of his system, too, like Cassian.

3. Something the batboys associate with their mate Archeron sister

I noticed that in both cases, Cass and Az had given their girls something that they associated with them, be it material or other.

For example, Cassian’s was names for Nesta’s poses.

He saw Nesta stand in any particular way and if it was something she repeated he gave that pose a name. It is something he associates with her.

In Azriel’s case, we know he gives Elain a rose necklace. 

Roses signify Elain because of what she does: gardening; But also, it could simply represent them. Their way of spending time together (here’s a post of different refences of Elriel in the garden by @silver-flames​) and their relationship that has been slowly blooming in secret, like how that charm shines with colors when it’s in the light, but looks ordinary in the dark.

4. The batboys hurting the sisters

In both POVs the Illyrians hurt the Archerons. 

Cassian does it out of anger. Because Nesta kept rejecting him. Instead of holding his tongue, like any mature person should, he tells her something that destroys her (we know by her reaction).

See how her eyes go empty? 

Well, in his chapter, Azriel hurts Elain, too, though it pains him as much as it pains her because he did not do it intentionally. 

5. The sisters rejecting/returning the gifts

Nesta rejects Cassian’s gift, though I wouldn’t have taken it either after what he told her. This quote comes from before his insult, but my point is that she left without taking the gift.

Also, notice how Cassian hadn’t wanted to give Nesta her present in front of the others, something that Azriel does, too, though for different reasons. Cassian had feared rejection and had been waiting for her to approach him.

Azriel had not given Elain her present because Lucien, her mate, was there.

And of course, Elain returns her gift after Azriel left her standing in the hall with the words “this was a mistake.” I wouldn’t have stayed with that necklace either, not when it reminded me of that moment.

6. Regifting/Comparing

Something particular that happens in both characters’ PoV is the regifting of the objects the batboys used to relate to their girls. I do not think they are necessarily wrong, just that it happens.

Cassian uses the name of one of Nesta’s poses to describe Emerie.

He also compares her way of speaking and the look in her eyes to that of Nesta.

Azriel regifts the necklace that represents Elain to Gwyn (though he doesn’t give it to her personally, just hands it to Clotho for her to do it), and describes her with the same quote he used on the necklace (Elriel). 

I have my own theory on why the thought of her smile makes him smile. Soon I will explain.

7. Getting rid of the gifts (decisions made in haste)

Cassian being all impulsive and throwing the very expensive and extremely unique gift to the Sidra:

Gotta love our hotheaded overgrown bat. (My baby!! <3)

Then, we have Az making the dumb decision of regifting the present because somehow he couldn’t get rid of it (symbolism but not the post for it).

He was in a bad place when he made the decision, and even Clotho points out that his eyes are sad. 

The quote in purple is important to note. The theory about Clotho not giving Gwyn the necklace? That line is good for it. The fact that he told Clotho to give the necklace to anyone as long as he didn’t have it and the sadness she gleaned in his eyes is enough for her to know there is more to it than what he tells her.  

I also want to point out that we know for a fact that Cassian regretted getting rid of the present and that he knows he had been foolish that night. So, considering how parallel to each other these chapters are, I’m sure that Azriel will, too.

8. Distraction/Consolation (Aftermath)

I think it is important to highlight how Cassian got to the Townhouse late and was followed by a worried Mor, who most likely consoled him after his disastrous evening with Nesta...

...and compare it to how Azriel had needed to release unspent energy and was successfully distracted from his bad juju by the short lesson he gave to Gwyn:

He straight up says he’s thankful for the distraction. That was what the whole convo had been for him -in a good sense. 

It also aligns super well with @silverlinedeyes​ ‘s theory of Gwyn being a lightsinger in how they appear to people when they are lost. Gwyn was there when Azriel needed someone (even just to distract him), be it coincidence or not, and that cannot be ignored. 

If Gwyn does take on a role in Acotar 5, I think it will have a lot to do with being his friend and confidant (and trainee), someone who will help him figure out what to do about his situation, just like how she unknowingly helped him on solstice.

9. Empathy towards the Valkyries

Another parallel that I found in the chapter is how Cassian felt empathy for Emerie’s situation upon looking at her...

...and how Azriel’s interaction with Gwyn brought about the same reaction:

This is what I was talking about earlier. Notice how he sees her pain and grief and prefers when she’s happy to when she’s sad? Who wouldn’t want that? That is the same mentality I apply to his smile at the thought of her smiling. That he is glad that something would make her happy after what she has been through. Especially after remembering her past (within the last three pages). 

10. Emerie and Gwyn’s attitudes

This was super curious for me! Look at how both girls say goodbye to the batboys:

Emerie being a whole independent female, and Gwyn… 

All business. 

Literally got the same energy from them. 

Gwyn finished the convo and continued her practice like the badass warrior that she is. There was no demure glance or cloy blush anywhere. The interaction was not romantic, purely platonic. Just like Emerie’s with Cassian.

11. This interesting parallel:

These two moments that are almost identical:

Cassian tells Emerie to give the Illyrians the clothes he just bought and to tell them it was the High Lord’s gift. He does it because he knows the Illyrians would not accept them if they knew they came from Cassian.

Azriel:

Another one (DJ khaled voice). 

“Just tell her it was a gift from Rhys.” 

Why does he do that? Because it wasn’t romantic and if Gwyn had known she’d have brought it up in conversation. He just wanted to be rid of it, so he gave it to her, perhaps as a way of thanking her for the distraction yesterday, but nothing more. 

“If there’s another priestess here who might appreciate it, give it to them.” He didn’t care who’d have it as long as it wasn’t him. 

Conclusion: 

(Wings and Embers + Acofas) Cassian = Acosf bonus chapter Azriel

That’s the real formula bestie SJM used and the receipts are here. 

Azriel mirrors Cassian in emotions, actions and interactions. 

Remember how Nesta Antis began shipping Cass with Emerie after their interaction in Acofas simply because they hated Nesta? Their scene had zero romantic energy, but Nesta Antis still did it. 

Well, history repeats itself with Elain.

Regarding Gwyn: So far, I see no build-up to something more than a friendship. Like we explored, Az’s scene with her was similar to Cassian’s with Emerie. The differences lie in that Gwyn is more energetic than Emerie and that Az’s shadows reacted to her power (she has powers, read about it in the lighsinger theory). 

There is literally nothing more I can add. 

Peace out.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Gödel’s Incompleteness Theorem and Wittgenstein II

Prompt: Thinks about Logan breaking his clean streak on self-harm

Thank you for the prompt, babe! I’m a massive nerd so here you go!

Read on Ao3

Warnings: Self-harm, self-doubt (kinda), our boi Logan not having a good time. Please be careful guys I messed myself up writing and editing this so PLEASE PLEASE be careful

Pairings: LAMP, DLAMP, DLAMPR, can be platonic or romantic you decide

Word Count: 6908

Gödel's Incompleteness Theorem: For any consistent formal system, there will always be statements that are true, but that are unprovable within the system. The second incompleteness theorem, an extension of the first, shows that the system cannot demonstrate its own consistency.

Wittgenstein II: For a large class of cases of the employment of the word ‘meaning’—though not for all—this word can be explained in this way: the meaning of a word is its use in the language.

*       *       *

Despite what you think it is, it’s not a cry for help. It’s not a desperate attempt at anything. It’s not out of control.

It’s just an option.

Logan is Logic. That is his job, that is what he does, that is what the others rely on him to be. Thus, he is not an accurate facsimile of a human person. He does not experience certain things that a human does, and as such, he should not be held to the same standards and expectations as a human, as he is not one.

He is not a human. He should not be treated as such.

Logan is Logic and thus he must be. He has work to do. Anything that risks interfering with the work must be avoided at all costs. Thomas relies on him to sort through the noise and arrive at the clear, simple, clean solution. Oh, yes, those solutions might not always be as clean or clear as perhaps everyone would like, but it is Logan’s job to ensure that they are as close to that projected ideal as possible. Even if they all acknowledge that such an ideal is impossible to truly achieve, that does not render it irrelevant for use.

An unfortunate side effect of being a metaphysical humanoid is that there are certain things projected onto him that have no strong basis. It is one of the many unfortunate aspects of living in a world that is so—sometimes frustratingly—anthropocentric. The inability to extricate the human bias from any given set of observations is an issue that has plagued many disciplines for centuries, from science to philosophy. Because of the influence of sensory perception on any piece of information, there will always be things that are either assumed that should not be, or things that are taken for granted when they must be considered. There will always be things that humans cannot prove. It is impossible to prove certain things within a given set while existing within the set.

Gödel’s Incompleteness Theorem.

Logan is not human, and yet he is assumed to bear more similarities to a human than he truly possesses because Thomas is human. Thomas perceives him in a specific way that is in direct opposition to the function that Logan needs to fulfill in order to be useful to Thomas.

Thomas, as a human, assumes that Logan possesses human traits such as emotion, irrationality, and the inability to behave logically separate from the two aforementioned traits.

Thomas, as a human, requires Logan to be a being of pure Logic, in order to assist in scenarios that arise from the three aforementioned traits.

Logan is what Thomas requires him to be, but he cannot exist as something that Thomas does not see.

There is a small grey area in which Logan can therefore find a solution. Thomas has an abstract awareness of the existence of Logan, but he is not directly interacting or seeing Logan when Logan is not actively working with Thomas or talking with him face to face. If Logan is not being seen at that particular moment, the bounds of his existence are allowed to modify themselves in order to be the most productive. The meaning of the word is its use in the language.

Wittgenstein II.

Logan requires himself to be a being of Logic, and thus when he is not directly seen by Thomas, he must strive as close as he can to that point in order to be the most useful. If he can perform the logic and derive the solution before Thomas sees him again, then the fact that he will once again be altered is inconsequential. All he must do is remember.

Of course, the process of getting as close to that ideal as possible is difficult. Particularly when the switch must occur directly after filming. The process is not typically one that allows for the human traits Logan bears to be kept aside. No; between Roman’s stubbornness, Patton’s exclamations, and Virgil’s interjections, the three of them combined with Thomas’s inability to keep control of them for more than approximately ten seconds ensures that Logan’s capacity to control his emotions is a moot point.

The good news is he has learned how to curtail these emotional outbursts to exclamations of excitement over Thomas’s choice to pursue something or slight judgment towards the attitude the others possess. Or sass.

Mostly sass.

And it is not as if he never allows himself to retain the more human traits when he is away from Thomas. Socializing with the others is an important aspect of his existence. If they are all to work together for Thomas’s betterment, isolation would be counterproductive. And to say that their presence was merely an obligation or necessity would be a falsehood. When he has the capacity to enjoy things, he most certainly enjoys spending time with them. And when the emotions are simpler to handle—contentment, for example, or fondness, derivatives of happiness—they are simpler to put aside when he must work.

When they are not, the process is not nearly as…clean.

Frustration. Anger. Confusion. Other derivatives of sadness. These ones are troublesome. Mainly because they do not remain static—their meanings change as often as Logan looks to see what they are. They do not always stay the same word. They switch and flip and it is quite vexing. Which, of course, only serves to exacerbate the issue. The only commonality is that they all produce and/or derive from a sense of hurt.

Therein lies the solution.

There is a—quite clever, if Logan has to admit—loophole that Logan has devised in order to get to work. Emotional pain is something that he does not—can not—understand within himself. Physical pain, on the other hand, is a survival mechanism. Processing physical pain is much simpler, more distanced, and much easier to put aside than the complicated human emotional pain.

A loophole.

One that Logan has jumped through over

and over

and over again.

Just as Logan can adjust himself based on the meaning of ‘see,’ so too can he adjust what it means to feel ‘pain.’

The loophole works, and thus it is true.

Logic.

Of course, Logan is aware that this particular loophole is not one that would be approved by many people, let alone the other Sides. They, however, can afford to retain the emotional human traits that enable them to perceive it that way.

Hurting them would be…counterproductive.

But if they do not see it…

“What you don’t know can’t hurt you.”

That is not the same thing. They have no risk of feeling the same type of pain. Nor will Logan take any measure that will endanger anyone other than himself.

Not that this is endangering himself.

It is simple. Logan needs to work. This allows him to work. There is no risk posed to anyone else, including Thomas.

Therefore it is true.

And it’s not as though Logan does this often. It’s not every day, it’s not even every other day. And it’s not much. Never that much.

Just…a quick one, two, three, four, five.

Then he can go to work.

The pain fades, as it always does, and his mind is clear, ready to be filled with the logic of what needs to be done and the quiet assurance that whatever it is will be untainted by human emotion.  Occasionally the loophole will not stay open as long as he requires, but that is easy enough to remedy.

The others do not notice—and if they have, though he doubts it, they have never let on—and as such he makes an effort to conceal the loophole to the furthest extent he can. After all, it would not be ideal for the loophole to close, preventing him from using it to work.

It’s always small. It’s always hidden. It’s always private.

And if it isn’t executed as…precisely as he anticipates, well.

The others have never question why he keeps the first aid kit in his room.

There is a brief moment, early on when they are figuring out the dynamic between the four of them, that there is a name put to the loophole that gives Logan pause.

Fortunately, it was not him they were paying attention to.

“Virgil,” Patton says quietly, sitting next to the shaking Virgil on the couch, “can you take a deep breath for me?”

Virgil shudders. Roman makes eye contact with Logan as he comes down the stairs and quickly moves them to the kitchen.

“Is everything alright?” Logan asks as they move past the counter.

“Yeah, Specs, I think so,” Roman mutters, glancing over his shoulder, “I think it’s just a panic attack.”

“‘Just,’” Logan murmurs, “does this—has this been happening more often?”

“I think so, but I haven’t—we—“

“We have not been around Virgil long enough to ascertain a pattern.” Logan glances over to Patton, still mumbling softly to Virgil. He catches his eyes and shakes his head minutely. “What do we do afterward? Do we need to grab some food, water, anything?”

“Can you go get his headphones?”

“Are they in his room?”

“…I would presume so.”

Logan sighs. “I don’t want to violate Virgil’s trust by entering his room while he’s not there.”

“I’ll just go stick my head in.”

Roman vanishes and Logan turns, purposely paying attention to his hands on the glass, on the tap, on the counter, not looking over to the living room. When Roman reappears with the headphones and a quiet ‘they were on the doorknob,’ he risks a glance back over his shoulder.

Virgil’s leaning fully into Patton’s arms now, Patton murmuring softly into his ear. His breathing seems to have slowed considerably. Patton glances up again and nods.

“That’s us,” Roman murmurs, taking the headphones as Logan grabs the glass of water and walking over to the couch.

“Hey, Stormcloud.” He sets the headphones on the couch behind Virgil and carefully takes his hand. “You doing a little better?”

“Mm.” Virgil rubs his cheek against Patton’s shirt. “Sorry.”

“There’s no need to apologize,” Logan assures, setting the glass of water down on the coffee table. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

Virgil shifts in Patton’s arms. “It’s annoying.”

“What is,” Logan asks, “taking care of you? Of course it isn’t.”

“Logan’s right, as usual,” Roman adds with a wink.

“You’re alright, kiddo.” Patton plants a kiss on his forehead. “And you’ll never be annoying to take care of.”

“…never?”

“Never.”

“Here,” Logan says when Virgil still looks unsure, “why don’t you name everything that you think will be annoying, and we’ll tell you how it won’t be?”

“Oh, great idea, Specs.”

“…panic attacks?”

“Not at all, kiddo.”

“Insomnia?”

“You know my sleep schedule’s as off as yours,” Roman says, “what with time in the Imagination being different.”

“Nightmares?”

“Dreams are difficult,” Logan says, “even when you are awake.”

“Self-harm?”

“Never,” Patton says, Roman not far behind. Logan, however…

Logan sits quietly for a moment. He is, of course, familiar with the term, however, it is not one he’s heard in…

A while.

He offers his assurances that of course, he would be more than happy to help Virgil with any issue he may have, including self-harm, but the conversation lingers in his mind long after Virgil giggles at Roman’s antics and falls asleep on Patton’s lap. And certainly long after everyone has bid each other goodnight and Logan has retreated to his room.

Perhaps…

No. Logan is not human, and thus he cannot be held to the same standards and definitions. If this self-h—if this loophole is required in order for him to function, then it is not the same thing.

If he thinks he hears a soft hiss in the darkness as that conclusion crosses his mind, he dismisses it quickly.

…it still may be best to…attempt to refrain from using the loophole.

The loophole has not been necessary for a long time. Whether it is because Logan has gotten adept at reaching his necessary headspace without it, or there has not been sufficient ‘pain’ for the loophole to be required, there sits a shelf in his bathroom that has remained untouched for a significant period of time.

Surprisingly enough, this is one of the only things for which Logan’s impeccable sense of time does not seem to work. Neither does the possibility cross his mind that the two could be related.

Regardless, it is something of a shock when he reaches up to grab something and his fingers find the wrong shelf.

He pulls his hand back quickly, surprised to see the dull shine of blood on his finger. He glances back up.

Ah. Yes.

Well, it is always good to be aware of one’s options.

He turns the water on and runs his finger under the tap, watching the red dilute and fade, feeling the sharp little sting as the water hits the cut. After a few moments, when the water runs clear, he removes his finger and goes to dry it off when he puts pressure on the cut again.

His fingers part and there it is again. Dull, wet, and a little shiny.

He squeezes.

The blood fills the cut again.

He runs it under the tap.

Clean.

There is something strangely satisfying, he has discovered, about watching simple repetitive things. Watching the waves go out and roll back in. Watching the soft tick, tick, tick of a metronome hand going back and forth. Watching the gentle breathing of a sleeping animal.

Squeeze. Blood. Wash. Clean. Squeeze, blood, wash, clean. Squeeze blood wash clean. Squeezebloodwashclean.

There’s a knock on his bedroom door.

“Logan? You in there?”

Logan blinks. “Yes, I’m in here.”

“You coming down for dinner?”

“Yes, I’ll be down momentarily.”

“Great.”

Virgil’s footsteps trail away as Logan washes his hands. He turns off the bathroom light and locks his door behind him.

“Oh, Logan!” Patton reaches for his hand when he passes the plate back. “You’re bleeding! What happened?”

“Simply an accident,” Logan says smoothly, brushing Patton’s concerned look aside in favor of a smile, “I reached for the wrong thing in the bathroom.”

“Oh, well, alright.” Patton gives his hand a gentle squeeze. “Just be careful, alright?”

“Always.”

Janus gives him a strange look but says nothing.

Life is…good.

Thomas has been paying more attention to them recently. All of them. Virgil is talking more, Patton is explaining things, Remus is being listened to, Janus is being included, Roman is being cared for…and Logan is being seen.

It’s good. Things are…good.

And something niggles in the back of Logan’s mind, even as he smiles, talks, is with the others.

Something that tells him he has to work.

He tries. He honestly does.

He talks with the others, and they help, truly, but there are some things they cannot give him. And he cannot help them the way he needs to if he isn’t working himself.

He cannot help Patton if he is not distanced enough from the emotional turmoil.

He cannot help Virgil if he is not able to embody the logical reassurance.

He cannot help Roman if he does not offer firm, rigid guidelines.

He cannot help Remus if he is not able to critically examine his ideas.

He cannot help Janus if he can’t think.

He cannot help Thomas if he continues to be like this.

And the knowledge that he can’t help…hurts.

Well. He knows what to do.

He stands up from their dinner one evening and accepts the hug Patton gives him. Even as Patton’s arms curl around his waist, the contradictions in his head make his eyes close. It is warm but it shouldn’t be. It is safe but it shouldn’t be.

It feels good but it shouldn’t.

That’s not what Logan is for.

Roman offers him a hug too but he declines, saying he has some work to take care of. Roman pouts.

“But I haven’t had a chance to see you lately,” he says quietly, reaching out to lay a burning hand—it’s not burning, it shouldn’t feel like it’s burning, this is wrong—on Logan’s arm, “won’t you come on a walk with me? We can go to the garden you like, I’ll see if I can have the herb section all ready, too.”

It shouldn’t feel like Roman’s smile is melting Logan. It shouldn’t feel like Roman’s hand is holding him together. It shouldn’t feel like this.

“Not tonight, I’m afraid,” Logan’s mouth says, “perhaps tomorrow?”

“That’s a promise.”

Roman lets him go and turns to Patton. Logan moves to leave but finds his way blocked by Virgil.

“Oh, my apologies, I didn’t mean to run into you.”

“I did that on purpose, L, don’t worry.”

“May I ask why?”

Virgil shrugs. “Wanted to talk to you.”

It shouldn’t feel like the hairs on Logan’s neck are rising. It shouldn’t feel like his chest is getting hot. It shouldn’t feel like this.

“About…?”

He shrugs again. “Haven’t had a chance to see you a lot.”

“I can assure you that I have been present,” Logan says, “and I can distinctly remember spending time with you over the last three and a half weeks.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I just—“ Virgil scuffs his shoe along the carpet— “just feel like I haven’t seen you.”

Logan blinks. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“Just—never mind.” Virgil waves him off. “Good luck with your work tonight.”

“Thank…you…”

Logan starts up the stairs. He gets to his room, unlocks the door, and steps inside.

It shouldn’t feel like a weight being lifted off his shoulders.

It shouldn’t feel like that weight resettles onto his chest.

It shouldn’t feel like his hands are tingling.

Logan bites back a curse and goes to the bathroom.

It’s gone too far. He—he can’t make it to his work headspace on his own. They’re too loud. There are too many of them. He can’t focus. He has to stop this. He has to remove himself from this set.

He can’t fail Thomas like this.

No one can see him.

He has to change what it means to feel pain.

Gödel’s Incompleteness Theorem and Wittgenstien II.

Logan takes a deep, slow breath.

In.

Out.

He knows how to do this.

Get to the bathroom, close the door. Now there are more walls between him and everyone else.

Turn on the shower. It’ll be easier to clean up.

Put the blade right next to the razor. If necessary, blame the razor.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

Always in the same place.

Ignore the other scars.

Pull the skin taut.

Make it precise.

Step a little more out of the water.

Remain in control.

Don’t grip the blade so hard it trembles.

Where no one can see.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

In…

Out…

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

In.

Out.

Now the other side.

Reach over.

Step so the water doesn’t run over either thigh.

Ignore the blood running down the other leg.

Pull the skin taut.

Make it symmetrical.

Adjust the grip on the blade.

Don’t bite the lip until it bleeds either.

Ignore the shine on the blade.

If the lines aren’t right they will have to be fixed to match.

Don’t be sloppy.

Do this right.

In.

Out.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Logan leans his head back and closes his eyes. The blade is set down onto the smooth side of the shower. Water runs over his hair, down his back. The temperature is warm.

The water beats down over his head, his neck, his shoulders, his back. Unbidden, his shoulders relax and slump, his head bowing forward under the guidance of the water.

He cups his arms over his chest and turns. The water pools in the cavity of his arms, overflowing until it laps gently as his collarbones and down the creases of his elbows, landing with soft smacks on the shower floor. He watches it land, watches the little ripples and distortions from the falling water refract little artifacts of light onto his arms through the surface. Watches the water slowly start to run a faint red as he lets the water begin to run down his legs.

It hurts.

It stings and sticks and it isn’t clean, not by any means. It hurts and it feels and it’s the perfect loophole for Logan to jump through.

Now, if he closes his eyes, he should see—

Roman’s soft voice asking if he wants to go on a walk.

Patton’s hug, wrapping him up perfectly.

Virgil’s quiet remark that he hasn’t seen Logan recently.

No.

No, no, no!

Logan’s eyes fly open and he looks down. He—this should’ve worked. He jumped, he jumped, he used the loophole, this should be—

The blood is gone. It’s all gone. The tile isn’t stained, the water isn’t stained, everything is clean. But it—it hasn’t worked, did he—

The cuts are uneven. They’re too short on one side, too tilted on the other. They’re too faint. They’ve already stopped bleeding. They already blend in with the other scars.

No!

No, no, no, he has to—

This has to work.

He has to work.

Okay, okay he can do it—do it again. Do it properly.

Grab the blade.

Don’t worry about the grip.

One,

Two,

Three,

Four,

Five,

Six.

Okay. Now to the other side.

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six.

Patton’s laugh. Roman’s touch. Virgil’s gaze.

One two three four five six seven.

One two three four five six seven.

No, no, no, no, why isn’t this working? This should be working, he shouldn’t be feeling this anymore, has he—has he forgotten how to do it right?

It’s been too long, he doesn’t remember, this isn’t how this is supposed to work, the loophole should’ve stayed open, he needs it to stay open, he has to—he has to work, he isn’t useful if he can’t work!

Don’t worry about the numbers.

Overload the system.

Drown it out.

Drown it out.

Ignore the dull red shine all over the tile, the blade, the legs, the fingers.

Drown it out.

Make it stop, make everything go away.

Ignore the sting, if the feeling is still there it hasn’t worked.

Drown it out.

Drown it out.

Ignore the knocking on the door, it’s not there.

Drown it out, drown it out.

“Logan?”

“Logan, are you in there?”

Drown it out drown it out.

“Logan! Logan!”

“Logan I swear I’m gonna break your door down!”

Drown it out drown it out

“Logan! Logan, can you hear us?”

“Damnit, Logan, answer!”

Drown it out drown it out drown it out drown it out drown it out drown it out drownitoutdrownitoutdrownitoutdrownitoutdrownitoutdrownitoutdrownitoutdrownitoutdrownitoutdrownitoutdrownitoutdrownitoutdrownitoutdrownitoutdrownitoutdrownitoutdrownitoutdrownitoutdrownitoutdrownitoutdrownitoutdrownitoutdrownitoutdrownitoutdrownitoutdrownitoutdrownitoutdrownitoutdrownitoutdrownitoutdrownitoutdrownitoutdrownitoutdrownitoutdrownitoutdrownitoutdrownitoutdrownitoutdrownitoutdrownitoutdrownitoutdrownitout

drown

it

out

…

Logan blinks.

The shower is covered in a dull, red, wet, shine.

His thighs burn.

His hands carefully set the blade down on the tiled edge.

The water runs over him, running and running and running.

Slowly, slowly, slowly, it runs from red to pink to clear.

Logan stands and shuts off the water.

The towel is black.

He dries.

He dresses.

His clothes are black.

His hair is wet.

He puts his glasses on.

Mutterings are coming from the other side of his door when he exits the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. He tilts his head.

“I don’t know what’s going on!”

“He seemed alright at dinner, what’s—“

“He was not alright at dinner, in fact I don’t know how long it’s been since he’s been alright—“

“I swear to unholy fuck I’m gonna break this fucking door down.”

“Please do not break my door down,” Logan says.

The voices stop.

“…Logan? Logan, is that you?”

“It’s me.”

“Oh thank god—“

“Are you alright?”

“Why didn’t you answer?”

“If you don’t open this fucking door—“

“Alright, alright, I’ll open the door, one moment.”

Logan opens the door and takes a step aside as the others spill into his room, Patton and Roman looking around, Virgil taking up residence on the desk. Remus walks in slowly, followed by Janus. Janus shuts the door and stares at Logan.

“Why didn’t you answer at first,” Patton asks quickly, “we were worried, did you—where were you?”

Logan indicates his wet hair. “In the shower, I’m afraid. It is both quite difficult and quite…impractical to come to the door while occupied.”

“Oh…okay.”

He adjusts his glasses. “May I ask why you were all outside my door to begin with? It has only been…a little while since I’ve last seen you.”

“A little while,” Janus muses, still staring at Logan. “How long exactly?”

Logan tilts his head, eying the clock over Janus’s shoulder. “Thirty-five minutes and forty-six seconds.”

“And why would you need to look at the clock?”

“…surely all of you are no stranger to losing track of time in the shower.”

He gets a round of vague agreements from Virgil, Patton, and Roman. Remus remains silent, prowling around the room.

“We are not,” Janus murmurs, “but you…”

Logan swallows. “You have not answered my question.”

“We,” Patton says, gesturing to himself and to Roman, “followed Virgil.”

Virgil hunkers on Logan’s desk. “I came because I heard Remus and Janus shouting.”

“…and why were you shouting?”

Janus just stares at him.

Logan’s throat begins to run dry.

“…Janus?”

“I believe you know the answer, Logan.”

He swallows. “You must be mistaken.”

“Please,” Janus says, almost too quiet for the others to hear, “don’t make me do this.”

Logan swallows heavily.

“Do what?”

Something flickers across Janus’s face as he looks at Logan.

He looks at Remus.

He nods.

No.

No, no no.

Logan was so careful.

He can’t—

Remus reels back and kicks Logan’s bathroom door open.

“Remus!”

Remus pays Patton no mind, striding in and away from Logan, even as Roman rushes after him.

Logan is frozen.

“Remus, what’re you—hey!” Roman makes an indignant noise as Remus shoves him back out through the door. “Remus!”

Logan can feel Janus’s eyes on him as he scans Remus’s hands. He’s not holding it. Did he—did he miss it? Is something—

He knows when his gaze flicks up to catch Remus’s that he’s been well and truly caught.

“You do know what my job is,” Remus hisses, “don’t you?”

Logan raises his chin. “And you know what mine is.”

“If you think that even begins to explain this—“

“Explain what?” Roman looks frantically back and forth between the three of them. “What the hell is going on here?”

No.

No, no, no, no, no, Logan was so—he was—he’s been—it can’t—why didn’t it just work? He could’ve been fine, this would’ve worked, he could’ve worked, he wasn’t—how did they see?

“Logan?”

“Logan, look at me.”

“Lo, you’re panicking—“

“Way to go, you two, look what you’ve done.”

“We’re trying to help him!”

“You’ve messed up a perfectly good Logan, that’s what you did. Look at him, he’s having a panic attack!”

“Logan,” comes a soft voice in front of him, blocking out the others into a distant murmur, “Logan, look at me.”

Logan blinks.

Remus’s face swims into view, concerned. He reaches out to cup Logan’s face in his hands.

“You’re panicking, Lolo,” he says quietly, “you gotta calm down.”

“I’m not panicking,” Logan tries to say, only his throat won’t work.

“Why are you doing this,” he tries again, but nothing’s happening.

“What’s happening to me,” he tries desperately, only for nothing, nothing to work.

It isn’t until Remus’s thumbs come away damp that he realizes he’s crying.

“Lo—a little help here!”

“Logan!”

Logan collapses into Remus, who quickly wraps his arms around his waist and pulls him into a seated position, cradling the limp form in his lap. Roman, who rushed forward when Remus cried out, pulls him closer, laying his legs across his lap, not caring that his trousers started to soak.

“Easy there, Specs,” Roman hushes, hand drawing little patterns on Logan’s damp knee, “shh, shh, you’re okay.”

Then he looks down.

Logan can pinpoint the moment Roman sees the patterns of wetness through his jeans.

Roman’s eyes widen.

“Oh, Logan…”

“Can someone please tell me what the fuck is going on?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Janus turn toward Patton and Virgil. He can’t move. He can’t—it hurts, it hurts—

“Oh, sweetheart,” Roman murmurs, cupping the backs of Logan’s legs, “oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry.”

“Fuck!”

“Oh my gosh—“

“Logan—“

“Oh, kiddo—“

Oh. Virgil and Patton are here now. Great. Is it great? What is—how does this—Logan hurts.

Janus crouches down by his face, gently cupping his cheek and leaning forward to rest their foreheads together.

“Come on, sweetie,” he whispers, “I know it hurts, but you have to breathe.”

Is he—has he been quiet this whole time?

“At the very least you’ve got to breathe. In an out, come on.”

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

No…

That didn’t work last time…it didn’t work…it didn’t…

“…didn’t work,” Logan mumbles, “it didn’t work.”

“We’re not trying that, sweetie,” Janus says easily, “we’re trying something else. I still need you to breathe for me.”

Logan breathes.

“Shh, shh, there you go, just like that…” Someone rubs his knee gently. “Just like that.”

They’re all here. They can all see. They can—does that mean Thomas can see? IS that why Logan—is that why it’s been so hard?

“None of that now, sweetie,” Janus chides, lightly chucking Logan under the chin, “stay here, stay with me…no drifting off just yet.”

They’re all here.

Virgil frowns. Then he glances at Patton. “Pat, let’s go get L something to drink.”

“But—I—“

“It’s too much for him, Pat,” Virgil says softly, “with all of us here, he’s getting overwhelmed. Let’s go and then we’ll come back, yeah?”

“O-okay.”

As they leave, Roman shifts to let them by, and the fabric rubs right over the cuts, making Logan hiss through his teeth. Even though it’s quickly shushed by Janus, he doesn’t miss Roman’s wince.

“Yeah, denim over the fresh ones is rough, isn’t it?”

Logan goes absolutely still.

Judging by the way Remus growls and Janus turns, that’s news to them too.

Roman just looks at them all and raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, please. It’s not all long sleeves and pants all summer for no reason.”

“R-Roman, you—you—?”

“Yeah, Specs,” Roman murmurs when Logan can’t find his words, “me too.”

“Oh, we are not done with this conversation,” Remus mutters, softening slightly as he turns his attention back to Logan, “but c’mon, Lolo, you gotta—you gotta believe we’re as shocked about you, too.”

“But—“ Logan stammers— “but you—Roman you—you’re—“

“What, Logan,” Roman prompts gently, “what am I?”

“You’re—you can feel, and—and—“

“I can feel, Specs, that’s true.” A rueful smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “And I’m sure that the…idea that it’s not always ideal isn’t that foreign to you, huh?”

“But you have to feel to work, I—I can’t, the loophole—“

“What loophole,” Remus asks sharply, “Logan, what are you talking about?”

“I—“

Janus cups his head again, easing himself down, mindful of Logan’s legs. “Why don’t you explain that to us, sweetie,” he says softly, “help us understand?”

“You—I—“ Logan tries to breathe. “I…I have to be useful. I have to—I have to be Logic. You—you all…Thomas needs Logic.”

“So...?”

“So I—Thomas still sees us as people, or—or at least Sides of people which means he end—endows us with certain human traits and—and qualities.”

Janus nods.

“I can’t—in order to be useful I can’t feel, I have to be Logic.” Logan swallows. “But if Thomas can see me then I have to be what he sees.”

He swallows again.

“So if I take myself out, then I can—then I can be Logic.”

“But that doesn’t necessarily mean you aren’t what Thomas thinks you are anymore,” Roman asks gently, “so you…aren’t you still in the…aren’t you still in?”

“The meaning of words is dependent—“ Logan swallows— “dependent on the context, so if I can change the—the context then I can take myself—myself out.”

Roman squints. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“Oh, Logan,” Janus murmurs, “are you telling us that you’ve determined that this is the correct course of action through logical principles?”

“Excuse me he’s done what?”

“You cannot prove certain things about a set while using the language of the set,” Janus says softly, his gaze locked on Logan’s, “and the meaning of a word is dependent on its use within the language. Does that sound familiar?”

Logan nods. “Gödel’s Incompleteness Theorem and Wittgenstein II.”

“You’re operating under the assumption that your role as Logic is the determining factor,” Janus continues, “and that in order to fulfill that role to its greatest potential, you must remove yourself from the set of emotional beings, including a re-contextualization of what it means to feel.”

He nods.

“But if the language has become re-contextualized, then attempting to operate under all the other assumptions the previous language affords is illogical, let alone the fact that it renders the act of removing oneself from the set redundant. Another language is required to derive a solution ytt it would be impossible to translate the solution into the language of the original set.”

Janus cocks his head.

“And haven’t you yourself created an assumption about the nature of the original set? The role you play within it and its very existence prevents your leaving of it in its entirety.”

And Logan’s poor, tired, illogical brain is so, so lost.

In the distance, Roman huffs. “Okay, so I’ve got no idea what the fuck we’re currently talking about.”

“Same here,” comes Remus’s voice.

Janus smiles gently. “You’ve overlooked something, sweetie,” he says, stroking Logan’s cheek, “about you and how much we care.”

“What…what did I miss?”

“You said that you need to be useful.”

Roman makes an ‘ah’ sound. “You could’ve just led with that instead of showing off.”

“I most certainly was not.”

“Yeah, you were, Janny, shut up.”

Roman shakes his head fondly and leans closer. “You don’t have to be useful, Logan, nor do you have to worry about not being exactly what you think you do.”

“B-but—“

“Shh,” Roman murmurs, gently stroking Logan’s leg, “can I talk for a minute, sweetheart?”

Logan nods.

“Thank you…you think that you’re not being you because you’re getting emotional, yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Okay…well, have you considered that you’ve got a warped perspective of yourself because it’s being affected by your own perception?”

Janus turns to Roman. “My, my, Roman, discussing the limits of sensory perception?”

“I do listen to my dear darling nerd,” Roman hums, lightly showing Janus’s shoulder, “but anyway, Logan, you have to realize then, that means that you can’t objectively say you do or you don’t have these traits because you’re being affected by them.”

“Gödel,” comes Janus’s voice.

“Yeah,” Remus says, “and also that just because you think you’re only wanted because you’re useful doesn’t mean that we think that.”

“And there’s Wittgenstein II.”

Oh.

Oh.

“Isn’t that what you told us,” Remus continues, “that you can’t logic your way out of everything? You’re no exception to that, Lolo.”

“Logic can be used in a lot of ways to justify all sort of things,” Janus agrees, lightly tapping Logan’s cheek, “and just because something may be logically valid doesn’t make it true.”

“That’s why we have you.”

Logan balks at Roman’s words. “M-me?”

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Roman smiles, “you. You with your feelings and your care and your you-ness. You’re a part of this set and you’re not going anywhere.”

“And we don’t want you to.”

Logan’s thighs burn.

“Shh, shh, sweetie,” Janus hushes as tears start to well up in Logan’s eyes again, “it’s okay, we’ll help you—oh, sweetie, it hurts, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Will you let us help you clean them?”

Unbidden, Logan’s face flares bright red.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, sweetie…”

Roman gently nudges Remus’s arm. “Let me. You two go check on Patton and Virgil.”

“What?”

“Roman—“

“Come on,” Roman coaxes, “it’s not like I don’t have the practice.”

“We are so not done with this conversation,” Remus mutters as he squeezes Logan’s waist, “but is that okay, Lolo?”

Logan nods. Better just one than all.

“We’ll be back,” Janus promises, giving his cheek one last pat as he leaves.

“Easy does it,” Roman murmurs as he starts to lean Logan back against the wall, “do you have a long shirt?”

Logan motions wordlessly toward the closet. Roman finds the softest shirt Logan owns—how Roman knows is beyond him—and lays it gently in Logan’s lap.

“Change,” he says softly, letting their foreheads rest together for a moment, “I won’t look.”

The cuts have dried to the jeans and they burn, Logan biting his lip to keep from crying out as he gets them off. He’s panting by the time he’s done. Roman turns back with the first aid kit in his hands and kneels down. Logan stares at a spot on the floor, far away.

“Alright,” he says, pulling out the wipes and bandages, “Logan?”

“Mm?”

“You tell me to stop, I stop dead,” Roman promises, “but you must tell me, alright?”

“I will.”

“Thank you, sweetheart. This may sting a bit.”

It does, but Roman is careful and thorough and far too good at this.

“How do you think it was for us,” Roman whispers when Logan voices that last part, “when we realized?”

“My apologies.”

“Oh, no, sweetheart, that’s not what I meant. I just meant that you’re so important to us, Logan, you, that this…this hurts. And I don’t ever want you to think that this is necessary for us to love you.”

Love.

The word stutters in Logan’s throat.

“Too much?” Oh. Roman must think it’s his legs. “Here…”

Roman reaches out and gently rests Logan’s hands on his shoulders.

“There…Keep your hands on my shoulders. Then if something hurts too much, you give me a squeeze and let me know, hmmm?”

“…okay.”

Love…

One of the larger cuts stings horribly as Roman begins to clean it and Logan tenses, his hands gripping Roman’s shoulders.

“Hurt?”

“A little.”

“Here…” Roman leans down and blows a stream of cool air over the cut. “…better?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. I’m almost done.” He carefully applies the bandages, smoothing his hand across them as he finishes. “There…all better.”

He packs away the first aid kit, only to pause and look up when Logan’s still staring at the same spot on the floor. He stops, setting the kit aside and taking a seat near his hips, reaching and twisting to cup Logan’s face in his hands.

“Hey,” he calls gently, “talk to me, sweetheart.”

Logan wets his suddenly-dry lips. “I don’t think I’ve…processed this yet.”

“That’s okay, Lo, it’s not gonna be a quick thing.” Roman glances back. “And certainly not if it’s been happening for a long time. Though, if it’s any consolation, I don’t think any of us have fully processed it either.”

“I…”

Logan gets interrupted by a gentle knock on the door.

“Can we let them in, sweetheart?” Logan nods. “Come in.”

Patton appears first, holding a glass of water out to him. Virgil comes in next, holding a massive pile of blankets, helped by Janus. He can hear Remus take the kit and put it away.

“Hey, there, kiddo,” Patton whispers as Logan starts to drink, “there you go…thank you.”

“How’re you doing, L?” Virgil tilts his head a little. “All things considered?”

All things considered…

Logan takes a deep breath and turns, trying to look at his legs.

Before he can, Remus has his hands over his eyes.

“Ah!”

“Sorry, Lolo,” Remus mutters, “but even I don’t think that’s a good idea right now.”

“…if I don’t look, it—I…”

Did it happen? Did I—did it work, did I not—did I do it wrong? It has to be done right, I need to—dull, red, wet, shine, one, two, three, four—

“…alright,” Remus whispers, removing his hands.

The bandages cover most of it.

His hands tremble.

It hurts.

It hurts.

“H-help me.”

“I’m here,” Roman says instantly, rushing forward to pull Logan into a tender hug, “I’m right here, sweetheart, I’m right here.”

He tries to hug him back but his arms are shaking too much so he can’t.

And this, more than anything, is what makes him finally start to fall apart.

“Oh, sweetheart…”

Roman adjusts his grip, settling Logan’s arms over his shoulders. He cradles Logan like he’s something precious, something true.

“Can we help,” comes Patton’s strangled whisper, “can we help too, Logan?”

“Please?”

Patton is behind him in an instant. Remus clings onto him from the side. Virgil wraps them all in one of the weighted blankets as Janus pulls Logan’s legs into his lap.

“Don’t worry about figuring anything out right now,” Patton murmurs, “or jumping through any loopholes. Just…just be for a little bit, yeah?”

Logic disappears in a soft puff as Logan buries his head in Roman’s shoulder and cries.

Set complete.

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[outpost-31]

top 5 acts of love

Oh Boy! these are ones people have done to me not vice versa these are things I appreciate. but I also do most of them . also this involved both platonic and romantic whatever. all can be for either. also I'm. strange so some of these are probably dumb I'm sorry. and multiple are nearly the same thing. personal bias etc etc

under the cut for this one. nothing wrong I am caught off guard

5: dictionary-definition physical affection.

hugs, kisses, cuddles, etc etc. not bad! it's actually very good for people it can be so good for you and is so vital in people that it's essential to even the development of children. it's essential. but it just. I have alot of issues with it. paranoia + anxiety + hating when people touch me AT ALL if I am not very close with them = disaster. I'll hug somebody and immediately panic about 15 different things all at once and just HATE PEOPLE TOUCHING ME. I have slapped people's hands away from me before. there are only a few who are exempt

so personally for me it's. near the bottom. sucks yeah but it's how I am. incredible when it doesn't stress me out, though. hugs are fantastic. just hate it alot of the time

4: MUSIC

Mostly self-explanatory! sharing music! fucking incredible. like #3 in alot of ways. tells you alot about a person, and is a great bonding thing. love it

3: CONVERSATION

this one's legit so dumb but I consider it important. communication and whatnot just talking to people can be one of the greatest acts of love I swear to god. I love chatting with people, I LOVE talking to people. conversation is how you find out more about people and actually grow a bond. not even with actual words! over text! body language! anything! not at the top because it's easy for me and many others to misinterpret.. but it's sweet. the best act of love is just listening to people talk for me. I love hearing them rant. it tells you so much about people and I love seeing joy when they mention what they're interested in. hope people think that about me

2: .. scalp scratch.

I consider this different from other types of physical affection (previous). You know when people just pet you. or run their fingers through your hair. yeah! that. it's such a simple thing but I am a simple man and one time I literally cried just from somebody scratching my head. this SOUNDS like a pathetic thing to say but. thats about right for me.

1: Trinkets

If I love you! you're getting a trinket. platonic, romantic, whatever. you get something weird I found or made. it's an incredible form of love and the main one I use but also adore receiving. gift-giving. I've gotten earrings and necklaces and jackets that have immediately become comfort items the second I got them because I love so much that somebody would see it and think " atlas would love that " and then GETS IT FOR ME.

drawing something for friends. or making crafts with them. just. incredible. it's so sweet. it feels truly loving and adoring in a way I cannot explain. the greatest. if somebody gives me Stuff I am indebted to them like a witch's familiar forever. ITS NOT BUYING LOVE! ITS SHARING IT THROUGH STUFF!

[gffa]

Honestly, I don’t know.  Both of these characters did love each other very much, but they’re coming at this with a whole lot of baggage. For Anakin:  Despite that Padme never gave him any reason to doubt her, he still couldn’t stop fearing that she was going to betray him.  She made it very plain that she wasn’t interested in Clovis as anything other than a friend, that she had important reasons for working with him, but Anakin time and again kept boiling it down to her having romantic feelings for someone else.

Padme did everything “right” with Anakin, she always treated him with sympathy and softness, no matter what.  She poured all of her love into him, she got swept up in the romance with him just as much as he did many a time, yet he still cannot trust her. It’s the same on Mustafar--she has given every indication that she wants to be with him, wants to have a family with him, wants to leave with him, but he still turns on her and thinks she’s plotting behind his back when Obi-Wan reveals himself.

He’s willing to turn on her with the slightest indication without giving her a chance to explain. She says, “No!  I love you!” and he screams back that she’s a liar and starts to Force-choke her.

This is what Anakin is bringing to this relationship--yes, he’s high on the dark side and this is a really bad critical moment, but that’s what the dark side does.  And further canon (especially Darth Vader: Dark Lord of the Sith and Vader Immortal) really hammer home that he’s unwilling to face his own mistakes about this, that he was responsible, that the dark side twisted him into this. Would he be willing to come back if Padme were still alive, would he be willing to leave the dark side behind for a second chance at a relationship with her? I honestly can’t say.  I suspect not, because as much as he loved her, he didn’t really want to live a simple, quiet life.  He desperately wanted something bigger and grander, he wanted to rule an Empire with her, he wanted to remake the galaxy into what he wanted.  He wanted a shadow of her, this idea of her, not the woman who actually said no to him.

Then there’s the other side of this relationship. For Padme:  She is someone who does try to put her foot down, to set boundaries.  We see that she does this really well in Attack of the Clones, where she tells him, “Stop looking at me like that, it makes me uncomfortable.” But then in that same movie, when he confesses that he’s killed the Tusken women and children, she doesn’t express any horror at this, only comforting him, telling him that being angry is being human.

She sees someone who is in incredible pain, it’s completely understandable, but it also shows that she’s willing to overlook his actions for how sad he was about his mother’s death. By the end of the movie, despite knowing him for about a week, she’s marrying him.  Yes, the circumstances on Geonosis are intense, which will put intense feelings into a boiler pot and make them even more intense, but she’s still known him like a week.  Padme is very much someone who gets swept up in romance and how she feels empathy for Anakin, she aches on his behalf. It’s the same with the Rush Clovis arc in season 6, where he beats the shit out of Clovis because he thought Padme was kissing him and she says they need to take a break.  By the end of the arc, intense circumstances (Clovis’ death, her own almost death) have her setting all that aside again to be with him, to exchange romantic holo-messages with him, to daydream about having their baby together on Naboo. She has seen what Anakin does when he has dreams of someone dying, like with his mother.  He directly says that these dreams are like those and he won’t let Padme die, but she says they’re just dreams. And when Anakin murders the Jedi younglings after having turned to the dark side, Padme’s first response is angry disbelief.

She goes to Mustafar to try to talk him back, but he’s off the deep end, so she backs away, saying, “You’re not the person I married, you’ve become this person I can’t follow any longer.” She absolutely does mean this--but she’s meant it before, too.  And she’s come back before, too.  Even her final words about Anakin are, “There’s still good in him.” because Padme cannot maintain those boundaries. So, I’m not sure how this set-up would necessarily even work, if Padme even could set down the boundary of “turn back to the light or we’re done” and keep it in a way that would actually force Anakin to change.  Because the dark side isn’t just anger, it’s also pain and suffering--which Padme is incredibly vulnerable to in Anakin. If she somehow could maintain that boundary, it’s possible that Anakin would come back, but I wouldn’t be willing to bet money on it.  Anakin has always loved the idea of her just as much as he loves her for herself, so much of their relationship was about his feelings for her, that nothing was more important that the way he felt about her.  And when she goes against what he thinks she should be doing, goes against his feelings that he’s giving her, he gets furious and lashes out.  He’s absolutely willing to physically assault her if he gets angry enough and that trigger is a hair trigger at times. And here’s the other thing:  I think Anakin loved Obi-Wan just as much as he loved Padme, though, in different ways (even if they’re both romantic or if one’s romantic and one’s platonic, they’re still different), he knew Obi-Wan loved him and he knew Obi-Wan would accept him back if he turned away from the dark side.  He knew if he went to Obi-Wan, even after everything, and asked for his help, Obi-Wan would listen to him, would still love him.

In the vision he has in Dark Lord of the Sith, the Force/the kyber crystal shows him this and Anakin’s eyes are blue again, he’s able to make his choice freely, and he rejects it. He rejects coming back from the dark side.  Now, his relationship with Obi-Wan and Padme are different, he can’t break down Obi-Wan’s boundaries the way he can Padme’s, nor does he have the same physical power over him that he does over Padme, the fight on Mustafar illustrates that.  Obi-Wan gives Anakin every chance, the entire battle is written to be like a married couple having a fight where Obi-Wan is trying to give him time to calm down, as well as Obi-Wan will not let this happen, even though he desperately didn’t want it to come down to this. Anakin refused to come back, though.  Once the dark side got its hooks in, once he was willing to murder the Jedi and the Jedi children, once he was willing to help burn the Republic to the ground, he couldn’t go back.  He knew what he’d done was wrong, he was never going to be able to accept someone who knew what he’d done, knew him and what that really meant. That’s why Ahsoka could never have brought him back, either.  Because Anakin hated himself for what he’d done so deeply that he couldn’t accept anyone who knew him, that’s why it could only have been Luke or Leia who made him have his final selfless moment, someone that represented the future, rather than his past.

"Just imagine this person that’s so wrapped up in their hatred for themself as much as external hate, that he just can’t deal with it.  He needs to destroy [Ahsoka].  So there isn’t empathy for her.  I’ve never thought that she could be something that would turn him back from the dark side, because that would completely rob Luke.  That would make it seem like that story was just one possiblity of many, when I think that Luke or Leia are the only possibility of their father’s redemption.”  --Dave Filoni Anakin knew these people that he loved would accept him back, knew they loved him, but he couldn’t face it.  He tries to bring Padme back in Dark Lord of the Sith, when he’s fresh off his turn, but even then it’s just a reflection of himself that he’s chasing after, not really her.  In Vader Immortal he’s also trying to bring her back, but he’s chasing a shadow of her, not really her.  It’s not about her, it’s not about what she would want, it’s not about the horror she would experience at what he’d done in her name (murdering children, murdering entire planets), it’s not about how she would react.  It’s about his feelings for her.  And that’s not something that would bring him back from the dark side. Padme is different in that he’s used to eventually breaking down her boundaries, so he feels a possessiveness towards her that he can’t have for Obi-Wan or Ahsoka (who assert their boundaries and keep them), but ultimately if Padme asserted those same boundaries, if she refused to take him back unless he turned away from the dark side, he would do the same thing he did to her on Mustafar, the same thing he did to Obi-Wan, the same thing he did to Ahsoka--try to kill them, because he cannot stand to look at what he’s done and work through it, he has to keep justifying it or he’ll fall apart and he refuses to do so.

[yostresswritinggirl]

Scholars’ Chit Chat Prologue Submission

XXX

Cyno x Reader (Platonic, possibly romantic in the future)

*Lore dump warning

*Spoilers for all the Archon Quests and speculations of Teyvat

*Really it’s all serious talk

XXX

This is basically how you and Cyno met

XXX

The libraries of Sumeru are quiet, like how they’re suppose to be.

It is a new semester after all, the freshmen are still getting a grasp of the large campus, though Cyno does guess that soon enough they will be awed of this place.

Walking among the tall shelves, he tries to locate the section he had been researching on, but a voice calls out to him, breaking his concentration.

“Hey, you ever thought of why were you given a Vision?”

He turns to the source of the voice, only to see you there, sitting on top of one of the book shelves as your legs dangled from it.

“I would say that it is a question worth discovering with my entire life.”

“Huh, to think that you would answer so naturally… Wouldn’t one first ask who I am or ask why would I want to know that?”

“Because, first, I know who you are and second, those who come to this place seek knowledge.”

“Oh, so I had become the talk of school despite me being here for the first day?”

“Indeed, you were known as one who had declared to not take part in any sort of Mysticism studies yet aim to unveil the mysteries of this world. They called you naive yet you had earned the highest scholarship obtainable. It’s kind of hard to not let such news spread out.”

“Well, there are certainly advantages and disadvantages with this commotion, but that’s not my main focus anyways.”

“And may I ask what that would be?”

“To search for answers to fulfil my contract with the God of Wisdom.”

“Contract?”he questions, not capable of following your conversation, you slyly smiled at this.

“Unfortunately, this upcoming topic requires a fee to unlock~ I don’t mind sharing my findings to others, but when it comes to something as rare as words from an archon….”

“You get the idea, a price is required for everything after all.”

“…”

Cyno stared at you as if you were pulling his leg, but his reaction made you smirk even more.

“Oh, I won’t be asking for much, something like… Your name, perhaps?”

Suddenly realising that he hadn’t introduced himself yet and was reminded in such a playful matter, Cyno couldn’t help but let out an embarrassed chuckle.

“My apologies, I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Cyno, a pleasure to meet you.”

“Hmm… You know that one’s name is important, right? Names hold power, not necessary the one given by your parents but the one that defines your soul. There are quite a few stories mentioning that giving your name to someone is the same as giving a part of their soul to them.”

The male however lets out a laugh at your advice.

“Thanks for the warning, I’ll keep that on mind.”

“It was nothing, and to the end of my bargain, yes…’ you began as you jumped off the shelf, landing right in front of him. “Well, it’s more like a bet than a contract if I’m being honest.”

“Which is?”

“To find out the truth behind Khaen-riah’s fall, or more specifically, the reason behind the alchemist Gold’s fall, before I graduate.”

“?!”

The kingdom that had technology and Mysticism developed greatly even without an archon, then was destroyed five hundred years ago.

Not much is known about Khaen-riah, and yet...

Cyno, was shocked, no, shocked isn’t enough to describe how he’s feeling.

“That’s... nearly impossible, isn’t it? Just what sort of offer did he gave you to tip the scales-”

“If I succeeded, he would answer me anything I want to know about.”

“A-Anything?”

“That’s right~”

...

“What happens... If you fail?”

Everything comes with a price, as you had said.

“Then my life would be in his hands, for him to decide my fate.”

Despite only knowing you for not long, Cyno cannot believe what you had risked.

“Are you out of your mind?! What would you possibly want to know that you’re willing to-”

“To understand the laws of this world.” You answered one a simple matter.

“It has been so long that the human race had been existing and yet none of us came close in finding the truth of the world...”

“Or perhaps someone did, and they failed to tell anyone?”

“Even Khaen-riah itself is advance with Alchemy, history tells us that their greatest alchemist Gold fell and became quite a threat... But why...?”

“...”

“What I’m trying to say is that we’re too trusting towards the gods cause we’re told to do so since we were born, you know what I had learnt after being tricked once? Doubt everything when you first see it, question it’s existence and see if you can use another point of view to perceive it.”

“Why do you doubt the gods?”

“That’s because I believe in humanity’s wisdom. I believe that even without the gods, humanity can still take care of themselves as fine.”

“If you need to rely on someone else in order to live, then what’s the meaning of living in the first place?”

“This is... quite a lot...” Cyno mumbled.

“It is a lot to take in, I agree.” You nodded as you leaned against a shelf.

“Our senior Lisa left this place after mere two years and went to Mondstadt to be a librarian despite her being a genius the Academia hasn’t seen for 200 years... Is it because she saw something that nobody else realised?”

“So what you’re saying is... There’s more to the bigger picture?” Cyno guessed as you snapped your fingers. “Bingo.”

“But that being said, questioning the gods is the same thing as raging treason against this world... “ Cyno pointed out with worry. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

“Indeed, *I’m trying to understand the rules of this chess game, so that humanity, the supposed audience of this game gets the chance to participate in it.”

“And if we can win this chess game or not, is entirely up to our legacy...”

“You have too much belief in humanity... Or should I say you have no intention of losing in the first place?”Cyno predicted with a sigh.

“Hm, seeing that you’re being so interested in our bet, perhaps you would like to become my partner in crime?”

Hearing this, Cyno finally realised that he was tricked at the point when he answered your question about his Vision.

“So that was what you were going after for all along, huh?”

“Haha, yup~ I mean, our archon didn’t state anything about not able to team up with others, so why not?”

“Able to ask anything from the God of Wisdom himself, what else more can a scholar wish for?”

Cyno understand that your words are trying to lure him, but in truth, who can give up this opportunity?

“I mean, even if we fail, I’m the only one who would lose anything so it really sounds like a pretty good deal to me~”

“And would you mind me asking for a warrant from you for the time I would be spending on this?”Cyno requested, surprising you for a bit.

“Well, how about my name? You’ve heard about me but haven’t known that yet, correct? With a part of our souls in each other’s hands, no one can run off easily, don’t you think so?”

“Alright I accept the of your con-”

“It’s a promise, not a contract.”

Cyno pauses at your sudden seriousness, he then takes notice of the frown on your face.

“...”

“You want this partnership to be built on trust and not just a piece of paper?” He guessed.

You softly nodded, trying not to meet him in the eyes.

But there’s no way that he would accept that, you two only just met after all-

“Then I promise, that I will be your partner in crime upon this bet against the Dendro Archon.”

Wha-?!

Cyno offers you a small smile. “Everyone has their own reasons, I too wish that I can understand you better within these few years... That is if you wish, of course.”

I’m glad.

“Yeah, likewise, Cyno.”

“I also by offering my name, promise that we will find out the laws of this world and allow humanity to earn the chance to be a part of this chess game.”

“My name is-“

XXX

*The chess game is referencing The Feynman Lectures on Physics, it is also referenced from Honkai Impact 3rd (another game of MiHoYo) Honkai Quest event by the character Delta, it is possible that it works as well for the world of Teyvat.

(One way that's kind of a fun analogy to try to get some idea of what we're doing here to try to understand nature is to imagine that the gods are playing some great game like chess. Let's say a chess game. And you don't know the rules of the game, but you're allowed to look at the board from time to time, in a little corner, perhaps. And from these observations, you try to figure out what the rules are of the game, what [are] the rules of the pieces moving.

You might discover after a bit, for example, that when there's only one bishop around on the board, that the bishop maintains its color. Later on you might discover the law for the bishop is that it moves on a diagonal, which would explain the law that you understood before, that it maintains its color. And that would be analogous we discover one law and later find a deeper understanding of it.

Ah, then things can happen--everything's going good, you've got all the laws, it looks very good--and then all of a sudden some strange phenomenon occurs in some corner, so you begin to investigate that, to look for it. It's castling--something you didn't expect.)

And welp, Exiled, mind me adding this?

-To their future child(ren)

And this is how your parents met//slap

With the Gnosis shaped as chess pieces and with MiHoYo’s other games referencing this...

Well theories will be theories until they’re truly revealed.

Until then Snowdrop’s gonna freak out on what the heck I just wrote

There will be continuations... Just please don’t look forward to it... OwO

Oh I do NOT mind AT ALL, Snowdrop. CONTINUE. This series looks so freakin cool and refreshing even!

[boop-le-snoot]

masterpost • main masterlist • taglist & faq

previously on...

Chapter 3 is finally here. Sorcerers need their shopping done, too. Beyonce/Wong platonic ship (joking)! And finally some action, more witchy stuff. Bucky whump because I have a saviour complex. Stucky cuteness moment. Some blood/gore in this chapter.

My insides clenched, seeing the yellow and blue notice taped to my door - the building manager rarely left notes, so whatever it was, it wasn't going to be good. I had managed to wind myself up into an anxious frenzy by the time I had gone inside and locked my door behind me, immediately thinking I would have to exhaust myself by turning to magic to keep a roof over my head.

For once, the news turned out to be positive: a neighbor was being evicted and turned in to the police for stealing packages. The building manager urged the tenants to report any missing items and apply for a refund when possible, apologizing for the inconvenience. I wondered what prompted this, basically unheard of in NYC, act of kindness as my altar stared at me with mocking amusement, pointing out the obvious by its mere presence.

Grinning to myself, I texted Odette - predictably, she was happy for me, happy that my protection spell had turned out strong and steady, and added a few tips of her own for my spell to stay that way. It felt like I'd grown invisible wings, those days, with all the possibilities open - and never once did I let myself entertain a thought of getting back at an enemy of the past for longer than five seconds.

Sure, it was perfectly human to consider making the cheating ex go bankrupt or make sure the college professor, that failed a couple of students each semester as a 'reality check', trips and face-plants at least once a day... I mean, who wouldn't experience a malicious sort of joy from petty revenge?

But I found my powers were best applied with a positive result in mind. My friend's cat was the first test rat- I mean, living creature I had practiced my healing spells on. The eleven year old kitty was struggling and both me and my friend loved the critter dearly - so the short, but tiring spell I performed yielded exactly the results I was expecting. Odette said something about genuine love backing up the magic, and- well, Dumbledore much?

On humans, it turned out, it wasn't nearly as simple. I didn't know what I had expected would happen after performing nothing short of a whole improv-performace type of ritual right in front of my very puzzled but hopeful friend with chronic asthma, but it wasn't the sheer exhaustion that ran bone-deep and left me bedridden for a whole day.

Odette visited my dingy apartment with her signature enormous purse full of vials she spoon-fed me and trinkets she strategically placed in and around my immediate sleeping area. "There, there," the woman patted my head as I pitifully moaned at the ear-splitting headache. "The first one is always the most challenging. After all, if it would be easy, everyone would do it."

I understood that. But at the same time, it felt unfair that no good deed went unpunished. I told Odette so, raising my voice to the best of my ability as she rummaged around my kitchen.

"Nothing in this world comes out of thin air, whatever you decide to give has to be taken from somewhere," she explained patiently. "People like us are considered hedge witches. We do solitary work and draw most of our energy from the Earth, from mother Nature. We cannot perform miracles, however, the cost of our spells are very low," I felt an immediate peak of interest at the simple yet effective explaination she gave me. "We remain mostly human. Gaia* is kind and generous to the ones who pay respect," Odette continued over the clatter of pans and pots. "There are other kinds of witches - who take from other people, who take from the dead. But taking something by force always leaves scars and taking something from the dead means bringing a piece of them back to places it should not be."

I pondered the words as Odette brought the kettle to a boil, the whistling shriek piercing through my skull like a sharp projectile. "What about Voodoo practitioners?" I couldn't hold back my curiosity.

Odette cleared her throat. "What is left of them is mostly not human. Their gifts are great but the costs are greater. They can live far, far longer than the average witch but their souls will know no peace, just like the souls of the dead they anchor to themselves over time," Odette entered the room with a bowl of tangy, creamy liquid that smelled like pumpkin soup. "We do not bestow any judgement upon our brothers and sisters but it is our duty to inform the young." She cast a pointed glance towards me, passing me the soup and a wooden spoon I didn't know I had. "This should help you recover. Take tomorrow off if needs be."

She left shortly afterwards and I hadn't much strength than to use the bathroom, wash the rune-engraved spoon and curl up in my bed, only waking up when the meager light shone over my face from the window. Sleepy and fog-tinted, the early morning NYC was damp and windy as I stuck my head out of the window to soak my sleep-heated head in the cool air.

As uneventful as the day at the café was, I still wasn't up to 100% energy-wise, but the long walk from Jeremy's to Odette's was pleasantly invigorating. I didn't find the cold autumn moisture displeasing; the small raindrops kept me awake and alert. Odette nodded in muted pleasure as I clocked in and returned the special spoon back to her. The runes on it were interesting; I had taken a picture of them for research purposes, fully intending to craft myself something similar.

"Odette has taken on an apprentice," Wong's voice had me take in several deep breaths in preparation for the inevitable fuck-fest on my patience. "She has been avoiding me. And the girl is painfully slow."

I didn't hear the answer of Wong's companion over the rustling of the boxes I was hastily shoving in their places before the Asian man's temper grew foul. More foul. Ugh. The sharp ding of the bell had me yelling a, "Just a second please, I'll be right with you," while trying to keep my tone polite.

Wong's sour face and a list of items required greeted me as I flew out of the backrooms, noticing the locked doors of Odette's office on my way out. Wong's companion stood at the far end of the store - his robes quite different from the ones I'd seen people of their kind wear, his lithe, tall figure seeming strangely familiar. I squinted my eyes at his back. "Is this all you need?" I waved the list around, increasing the volume of my voice.

The tall man turned around and I could only gape. He, in turn, also froze, the stern, unfriendly expression losing heat and giving way to perplexed wonder. "I had placed an order, for sorcerer Strange," Tony's boyfriend eyed me somewhat sheepishly under Wong's concerned gaze.

I nodded, eyeing Wong in turn, letting satisfaction nestle a warm ball in my chest. Stephen's look of displeasure had turned onto his... Colleague. By the time I finished retrieving Strange's order and packing up the items on Wong's list, the Asian man had left, leaving Stephen to sheepishly pretend to examine the books on the furthest shelf. I waved the paper bags as he took long strides towards me, his fancy, large necklace glimmering under the lights.

"So, how long have you been working here?" Sorcerer Strange asked after I told him the total.

The cash register beeped loudly, coins clattering on the desk as I counted out his change. "Some time now," I shrugged noncommittally. I felt his magnetic eyes gloss over my adornments, the star necklace, the various rings; I could practically feel him coming to his own conclusions. "Long enough for your colleague to get an attitude with me," I had to make sure he knew I would be taking no bullshit from him - or anyone else, for that matter. Odette's opinion on his kind was firm and I was heavily inclined to agree.

"Hmm, I see," Strange was equally as keen on hiding his curiosity. It was a funny thing, really, that we, being adults that we were, treated this encounter like some sort of a dirty secret. "Don't take it personally. Wong is like that with everyone," The man briefly scratched his beard with a gloved hand before pocketing his change and picking up the bags. "Except Beyoncè, maybe," the wink he threw me was positively mischievous as it caught me off-guard, giving him a fox-like appearance.

I sighed as the door shut behind him. Pretty white boys - the ultimate human disasters.

I had no time to dwell on them, however, as something - or someone, hit downtown with all the malicious intentions to wreak havoc on the innocent civilians calmly going about their day. Mutants and people who knew Odette came in hordes, scrapes and bruises and strange wounds that required imminent healing.

My boss was no rookie, she dutifully accepted each and every single soul, looking worse for wear with each minute. Not being able to withstand seeing her drain herself, I simply took over the simplest tasks - and she said nothing, just gave me a nod, instructed to use whatever I needed and write it down somewhere along with the name of the person who required the healing.

As the battle raged, the crowds thinned but the ones who managed to come to Odette's spouted more serious wounds, obviously a result of them fighting back. Mutants covered head to toe with coats and hats and robes, for me to swallow my shock when they undressed - horns, tails and weird skin textures were on the far end of the normal. I dutifully extracted small pieces of information from each and every person I treated.

Yes, the Avengers were winning. No, there aren't many people hurt, most of the damage is cosmetic. Yes, the villain of the week is as stupid as usual. It was like a mantra. Odette poked her head into the spare room every now and then, her eagle eyes briefly scanning over me to make sure I wasn't exterting myself.

As I applied the healing salve to a tiny, pink-skinned woman, bandaging up her hands, my boss entered and closed the door behind her, setting down on the creaky chair with a loud thud. "Just got the news, the Avengers apprehended the terrorist," she sighed long and slow. "We've done all we could, the next few days I'll be handling house calls so you'll be here on your own. I'll probably see you in a few days, don't hesitate to give me a call if something comes up," Odette seemed to be barely standing up, yet when she tore off a few pieces of her jewelry and chucked them into a big tin can under the sink, the glossy sheen in her eyes melted away.

"Okay," I mumbled under the watchful eyes of the mutant woman. "Will there be more people coming in today?"

"No," the woman in front of me snorted. "SHIELD is prowling the streets. They are not fond of us, they always say we intervene unnecessarily even though we willingly do their dirty work so our children could be safe," the bitter, harsh tone took me off-guard.

I had to admit, there was reason behind her words. "Will you be able to get home safely? I have a puffy coat and a hat you can borrow." Figuring an expensive taxi ride would be a better alternative to something terrible happening to the woman, I offered her my winter clothes.

She smiled at me, razor blade teeth and large, red eyes the kindest I'd ever seen on a person. In the end, she took the clothes, promising to bring them back in a few days and Odette gave me a parka that was too small for her frame - despite it smelling like someone's grandma's attic, I found it to be quite lovely vintage. The puffy knitted scarf she added felt like warmth and safety - she had to have knitted it herself, for I knew, handmade items carried a significant amount of energy in them.

The shop was eerily quiet as I cleaned and scrubbed the stained, dirty floors and disposed of the bloody clothes and bandages in the tiny, odd fireplace in Odette's office - that was a thing most peculiar, it burned everything I put in it, but had no chimney, no place for the smoke to exit. Magic.

Something banged loudly against the entrance door. I let out a startled shriek, broomstick falling out of my hand and adding to the sudden cacophony of noise as the figure behind the stained glass slowly slid down the door, a deep, male voice groaning something incomprehensible loud enough for me to hear.

Grabbing a large serrated knife we used for mincing the bones of small animals, I made quiet steps towards the door, seeing a large, obviously humanoid figure helplessly lean on the door. The man's arm glinted chrome black and gunmetal grey in the low light. "Sargent Barnes? Bucky?" I whisper-shouted, carefully plying open the door.

He lifted his head, blood dripping down from it, his face looked like someone went to town on it with a meat mullet, his eyes were unfocused and couldn't keep a straight line. His flesh arm leaned heavily on the door frame, the prosthetic hanging limply, dragging his whole body to its side. It must've weigh a ton.

"Я должен найти капитана Роджерса," he whispered.

I didn't understand Russian at all but I could make out the name of his boyfriend. Which made sense. Bucky looked severely concussed - I idly wondered what exactly they had been fighting, what could have given a freaking super-soldier such a brain-leaking injury. "Sargent Barnes, follow me," I put on my big girl shoes and used my momma bear voice, towing the man behind me.

He, too, weighed a ton, as I stumbled, helping him into the chair in the spare room that became my healing station for today. The longer I looked at Bucky, the less lucid he grew, eyes falling shut as he murmured something in jagged Russian, slurring his words.

There was no time to think about the consequences of exposure of my witchcraft; mortar and pestle, herbs and salves flying everywhere, I assembled a healing spell and memorized the according ritual in what felt like record time. He was bleeding all over the chair, fresh crimson blood pouring out of his nose and mouth and it was all I could see.

I hadn't known true terror until the blood that poured out turned black. Whatever it was in him, it was poisonous - my protection charms grew hot, scalding as they left marks on my skin; powering through the pain and unable to turn my eyes off the convulsing Barnes, I finished the chant just as the flow of vile, tar-like liquid suddenly ceased. It pooled around his feet, dripped down the armrests and matted his long hair. It reeked, too, of copper and putrid meat.

Bucky had passed out somewhere mid-spell, the slow, steady breathing bringing me my own sense of calm. To say that I was drained would be an understatement - my vision swam and my world spun on it's axis as I unlocked Odette's office to messily rummage through a cabinet for the emergency tonic I knew she kept there. I chugged the vial, an avalanche of almost anxious, jittery energy hit me like a freight train - exactly what I needed.

I bought myself a couple hours of time. Cleaning up the sludge around Bucky's feet and removing the outer parts of his gear was easy as he remained as relaxed as a cooked spaghetti noodle. The amount of weapons he had on him was impressive, but those weren't what I was looking for - his phone. It was dead, so I plugged it in, waiting for the 5% to show and bringing it to his fingertips, hoping he used the print recognition instead of the password option... And I lucked out.

"Hello, this is Star, I found a Bucky. Tell Dr. Strange to come get him, he knows where I am." I texted the "Stevie ❤️" contact, my inner fangirl self squealing at the dorky name of his boyfriend's contact in Bucky's phone. Shortly afterwards, I went ahead and snapped a picture of myself next to sleeping Bucky, figuring out some actual proof wouldn't do any harm in this bizarre situation.

The answer didn't let me wait long. "10 minutes" came the first text, and shortly afterwards - "Is Bucky okay??????". I had to snort at the amount of question marks before honestly replying "He will be ☺️" and putting the phone back in Bucky's pocket. I cleaned up and attempted to lift Bucky up, succeeding in waking him up into a half-lucid state, probably courtesy of decades of training and whatnot, to at least drag him to the front of the store. I wasn't particularly comfortable with strangers seeing the backrooms.

Bucky leaned with his back against the counter, ass flat on the floor and a towel with a cold compress pressed to his head when the doors all but flew open, revealing Captain Rogers, still in uniform and Stephen Strange, arguing with his boyfriend, both still suited up and bloody and grimy.

"Uhh," I blinked owlishly, causing the men to stop bickering and stare first at me, then at Bucky. "I think he hit his head," I offered weakly, backing up slightly at the amount of burning eyes staring at me.

"Shortcake, that you?" Tony's eyebrows rose as he surveyed the bodega, the items on the shelves, the black and red blood stains on my previously pristine, yellow shirt.

"Now is not the time, Tony. Go with Rogers, make sure the medical is prepared for Barnes and disable his arm," Strange barked out authoritatively, shooting me a puzzled but compassionate look. "The portal is open. I'll talk to Star, find out what happened." He advanced towards me as Captain picked up Bucky bridal-style as tenderly as he could while making sure the compress stayed on.

"Keep that tone fo the bedroom," Tony's voice was more than displeased as he shot me and Strange a hurt look, but followed Steve into the golden circle right outside the door before it sparked shut.

"Now, now, what happened here?" The sorcerer's voice lowered into a soothing drawl as I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding. My shoulders sagged, fingers twitching with anxious energy. The man extended a gloved hand, briefly squeezing my shoulder. "It's alright, take your time."

Damn, did I look that bad?

Taglist: @couldntbedamned @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites

[bluerosesinthenightsky]

I believe that Eolyne is Eugeo, but not in the way that you think he is. {{An in depth Theory}} -This is either 1000 IQ, or I’m losing my God Damn mind. You pick.

Eolyne is a reincarnation of Eugeo, but they’re not exactly the same person. Eugeo is the core of who Eolyne is, but Eolyne is also a new fraction of Eugeo. He’s his own person. Because people change, they don’t remain the same. Eugeo might be the core of Eolyne, but Eolyne is also his own unique person and he’s lived a life all his own.

_ _

Think of it like this, Eolyne is essentially an Integrity Knight in a way. His memories and feelings of Kirito have been locked away, but within Eolyne, Eugeo is still there - just dormant.

_ _

Let’s talk about their fluctlight ids.

_ _

Eugeo’s ID is NND7-6361

and

Eolyne’s ID is NCD1-13091

_ _

Okay, so they’re very different, so like there’s no way they could be one in the same right? 

_ _

Well interestingly enough, in the novel the Blue Rose Sword’s object id is:   DI:WSM:0131. 

_ _ {{The other id for the Blue Rose Sword we see is WLSS703, but in the light novel it’s: DI:WSM:0131. And since the novel is technically the true canon -because the anime did change things around and omit events, and such- we are going to go with the end all be all that the true ID for the Blue Rose Sword is  DI:WSM:0131.}}

_ _

If you recall Eugeo became one with the sword so technically his fluctlight id would change, right? Meaning that his fluctlight would become one with the sword, I would think. 

_ _

So wouldn’t that change some of Eugeo’s id to: DI:WSM:0131? -for the time he was merged with the sword, before and after his death.-

_ _

Now if you look at Eolyne’s id you see it has the numbers: 13091

If you remove the 9 you get 1301.

If you move the numbers around from 1301 and you put 0 in the front, follow it up with 1, then 3, then 1 again you get

0131. -This matches the Blue Rose Sword’s ID. 

Now if you take the two 6′s in Eugeo’s fluctlight id and you add them together, you get 12! And if you subtract 12 by the number 3 in Eugeo’s fluctlight you get, you guessed it: 9!

And the number 9 is in Eolyne’s id.

_ _

Now you ask: Well what about the 1 in Eugeo’s fluctlight at the end, if you subtract or add that to 9, then wouldn’t the number change to 8 or 10, instead of 9? Well there’s a simple explanation for that. 

_ _

Eugeo and the Blue Rose Sword’s ids come together to make Eolyne’s id. 

_ _

The system would take the two ids and merge them together, which means that some numbers could be dropped completely or added on, so the 1 in Eugeo’s fluctlight id was dropped and replaced with the 9 after adding 6 to become 12 and subtract the 3. Then the dropped 1 from Eugeo’s fluctlight id replaced the number 7 in NND7 to become NCD1.  _ _

So now you’ wonder, well what about how the middle N in NND7? How did that N change to a C to make NCD1?

_ _

To answer your question...I actually don’t know. There’s no C in Eugeo’s fluctlight id or the object id of the Blue Rose Sword. My only guess is that the C is unique to Eolyne and Eolyne alone. It’s a unique difference, one single letter changed, to differentiate Eolyne from Eugeo.

_ _

So... to get to the point:

Basically the system merged Eugeo and The Blue Rose Sword together as one, and that entity became Eolyne and the N to C letter change represents that even though Eugeo is the core base of Eolyne, Eolyne is his own person as well.

And I realize I might be reaching or looking too far into this, but it’s really too peculiar of a coincidence that taking Eugeo’s Fluctlight id and The Blue Rose Sword’s id and putting them together matches somewhat up with Eolyne’s fluctlight id - just that the we had to rearrange numbers, add and subtract some and swap out a letter to create Eolyne’s id.

_ _

There’s also far too many coincidences to overlook that Eolyne and Eugeo are one in the same, but also different.

For one Kirito keeps remarking how similar Eugeo and Eolyne are. They both have blonde hair, their eyes are both green, it’s confirmed they share the same voice actor for crying out loud. And I bet once the mask comes off, we will see that Eolyne’s face is identical to Eugeo’s or nearly identical.

Now back to explaining how Eugeo and Eolyne can be one in the same, but also not the same and different. You see, Eolyne is his own person too. He’s lived his own life separate from the life he lived as Eugeo. But he will still have Eugeo’s memories and feelings from his past life.

_ _

{{He might recover those memories or feelings sometime during The Novel and Anime, or they might remain dormant forever. But let’s just assume he’s going to regain those memories and feelings, and go from there.}}

_ _

So

Eolyne is technically both Eugeo and not Eugeo at the same time, which is very contradictory. But if you take into the fact people change and become someone new every day, then it’s easy to overlook the contradiction. 

Eolyne is basically an anomaly in this way. The core of his fluctlight was built up from the remains of whatever was left of Eugeo and the Blue Rose Sword - but the other part of him is his very own unique part, not relating to Eugeo at all.

So I believe if/when Eolyne recalls his memories of his past life and the feelings that go along with it, he will either decide to live as he always has - as Eolyne, or Eugeo, or even both.

And that no matter who Eolyne chooses to live as, Kirito will accept and support his choice. Because Eugeo/Eolyne will always be Kirito’s best friend, no matter what life they’re in. And even if Eolyne decides to live just as Eolyne, he will still cherish and love Kirito just as Eugeo would have.

_ _

{{Also it’s kind of ironically amazing isn’t it? That this theory here sort of parallels the theory that Kirito’s dual wielding is a metaphor for him being bi, while Eugeo becoming Eolyne can be a metaphor for a trans person transitioning. AKA Eugeo/Eolyne deciding to live as either Eugeo, Eolyne or both. Just like how a trans person can choose to live as a male, a female, both, or even niether.}}

{{I know a lot of people will argue with me on this front, but like you cannot deny that Kirito’s dual wielding can be a metaphor for bisexuality, and Eugeo’s {{possible}} reincarnation could be a metaphor for transitioning. Even if they’re not exact in terms of actual bisexuality and transitioning, the implications are definitely still there.}}

I know I’m probably reaching. I know this is probably just my desperate shipper heart of both romantic Yujikiri and platonic Yujikiri because I enjoy both - trying to confirm it to myself that Eugeo and Eolyne are the same, even though different. I am well aware of it. There’s probably several holes in my theory, and I accept that.

Just please let me have this, if nothing else. Please just let me believe that the creator Reki Kawahara knows what he’s doing and that he planned this all along, and I’ve cracked the case. _ _ To me it’s just too much of a coincidence, that you can mess around with the arrangement of the numbers, and the addition and subtraction of Eugeo’s fluctlight id and the Blue Rose Sword’s id to get Eolyne’s fluctlight id. Like that cannot just be by accident, if it is, then that's one hell of an accident. This would make Eolyne an entity that was created by fusing Eugeo and The Blue Rose Sword together as one living and breathing entity. {{But seriously, what are the chances of all this being just an accident?!}} 

In the words of Master Oogway:

Also let’s not forget the fact that Eolyne basically said the very same thing Eugeo did when he met {{or rather was reunited with}} Kirito.

Which was: 

“Nice to meet you, Kirito-kun.”

{{This seriously cannot just be a whole bunch of miraculous coincidences. You miss me with that!}} 

{{You gonna TELL ME? That Eolyne just happened to say the same thing Eugeo did when Kirito reunited with Eugeo? You’re gonna say that Kirito reuniting with Eolyne isn’t also him reuniting with Eugeo?! How could it be anything else?}}

_

_

Nevertheless...

It’s just like the question asked in Avatar The Last Air Bender: Do you believe friendships can transcend lifetimes?

If you want my answer: Yes, they can. Even if the second time around -or even the 3rd or 4th, or so on-, that person is not exactly the same person in their past life or lives, the truth of the matter is that the core part of them will always be the same - no matter how different they are from one life to the next. And it’s up to them to choose who they want to live life as.

 The very idea that Kirito and Eugeo’s friendship/relationship with one another could {{and possibly has}} transcended a lifetime...?

That my friends...

Is heartbreakingly beautiful in all the right ways.

[i-will-physically-fight-you]

Safety Net Fanfic

Title: Safety Net

Summary: After the events of the video, the last thing Roman wants is to speak with Patton. So he goes to the one place Patton wouldn’t think to look for him.

Pairings: platonic prinxiety

Word-Count: 964

Warnings: Anger, Crying, Panic, Angst With Some Comfort, Spoilers for SvS Redux

I feel like I should put out a disclaimer that I do love Patton and so does Roman and they will almost certainly reconcile (just not in this fic), but have you ever been so mad with somebody you just don’t want to see their face until you calm down? This is Roman in this fic. 

-

Roman takes a quivering, heaving breath. He grips the cream satin bed sheets of his bed, twisting and tightening the fabric into knots. His heart hammers away, a molotov cocktail of emotions burning through his gut. He cannot pin down a singular emotion. Anger, devastation, frustration, sadness, grief, humiliation--the list goes on, like in a cartoon when a character unfurls a paper and it fills the whole room, out the door and never stops.

Normally, in this state, he sets off to the Imagination. He loses himself in an adventure, slaying giants and rescuing royals to get back a feeling of good. He cannot do that today. Not after this particular discussion. He tries wrapping his brain around the semantics--is it good for him to want to create scenarios that place his fictitious kingdom at stake so he can feel good saving them? Or does that make him a bad side?

The bed sheets slips from his fingers as he grasps his pounding head, gasping. His chest stings as if someone stabbed it with a white-hot poker. He curls into himself, like a hermit crab trying to protect itself without a shell. His outfit is going to wrinkle. He cannot bring himself to care about that. 

He lays there, motionless, until there’s a knock on his door. It’s soft and tentative but it might as well be a loud clanging bell of a cathedral. Roman jolts upright like it is, his hand moving to hold onto an invisible sword that is not there at his side. 

“Roman? Can we...can we talk?” Patton.

Roman’s lips warp into a mockery of a smile. Hadn’t they done enough talking today? He can’t imagine doing more will do any good, and he’s Creativity. His whole purpose is to be imaginative. 

 Before he voices any of this, the door starts to open. Roman jumps off the bed, his heart-rate rocketing. One emotion pushes its way to the front; rage. It pulses through him, radiating his entire being. His whole body trembles. He does not want to be coddled with soft words and touches. He wants to hold onto this anger alone and scream until his voice gives out on him.

He doesn’t stay long enough to catch a glimpse of Patton. He teleports going somewhere, anywhere, that Patton wouldn’t think to look for him. It’s dark where he pops up. This freaks him out, his eyes stinging as they readjust. He stumbles around, tripping on something. He crashes hard onto the floor. He takes a breath and then promptly wails.

It isn’t quite the fall that causes this. It’s the darkness he’s in that intensifies the emotions already present. His concealer is ruined. Just like his pride and everything he fought so hard for. It’s been torn to pieces like Cinderella's stepsisters ruining her dress.

A shadow stirs in the distance. A murky outline that might be a person and might also be a monster. He swears their eyes glow, but it might just be because of his watery tear-filled vision.

“Roman?” A voice asks. The shadow seems to tilt their head, as if confused by his presence. 

He doesn’t respond. Not unless you count a warbling cry and a slight half-jerk of the head. He hopes the shadow will go away and torment someone else. Perhaps if he ignores it and turns his head away, it will.

“Wait, shit, Roman?!” Within a blink the shadow is at his side, “Roman, what the hell, you need to get out of here.”

The shadow, of course, isn’t just a shadow; it’s Virgil. Up close, he looks much worse for wear than Roman himself. A disheveled rat’s nest of a hair, sunken red-tinted eyes, charcoal black panic clinging heavily to his frame. He holds onto Roman, as if preparing a sink-out.

Roman knocks him back, scrambling away until he hits a wall. He heaves, his eyes darting around for any potential escape route. He doesn’t want to leave. This is the one place Patton wouldn’t dare to look for him. He refuses to leave.

Virgil looks at him, eyebrows raised. “Roman--”

“Please,” He begs, “let me stay, I swear on--on my honor I won’t mess with your stuff, why you won’t even know I am here!”

“Why?”

“W-what?” Roman splutters.

“Why do you want to stay?” Virgil asks softly, “My room--it’s hurting you Roman, you know that.”

Roman lets out a laugh. Harsh and blinding like a sunset’s glare on a windshield. It certainly feels like he’s the sun; burning and bubbling with heat, ready to one day explode and cease all life around him forever.

He tries opening his mouth to explain, but it comes out all jumbled. “I--the wedding--Patton--Janus--”

“Wait, Janus?” Virgil asks, his gaze darkening.

Roman nods miserably. Pathetic, he cannot even voice his own fears to the embodiment of Thomas’ fears. How he fears Deceit--Janus is lying again. Tricking Thomas and Patton just like he’d tricked him at the courtroom. How he fears he’s inadequate, unable to achieve the wants and desires of Thomas’ heart. How he fears Thomas never meant any of his praise, that he wasn’t ever truly his host’s hero. That above all else, he’s terrified because he’s lost and confused, on a tightrope with no safety net.

Strong arms latch onto him, pulling him away from the wall. He cannot find the strength to fight against it. Rather, he falls into them, weeping. The arms encircle him, acting as a protective shield from the world.

“Roman, I’m here.” Virgil whispers. 

There’s a weight to those three simple words. A meaning. As much he’d like for the anxious broody side to have been there earlier, he is here now. And he is probably not letting go of Roman for a long, long time.

[clownao]

Rereading Korosuu Chapter 4 (the ChibaHaya chapter) from the perspective that Hayami has feelings for Chiba

And boy, is it a ride.

Check out the previous post

Listen, I’m a big ChibaHaya shipper but I never believed they liked each other romantically in canon. One of things I like the most about their dynamic is how great they are even without the typical shippy stuff like blushing, stammering etc. They work well both platonically and romantically.

So I never tried to go MiDDLe ScHOoL cHiBaHaYa is CanOn but then I read the Chinese translation Ch4 of Korosuu. And boy oh boy did it make me think Hayami has ✨feelings✨ for Chiba. (And he doesn’t.) I literally did not expect that, but once I saw things from that perspective, I can’t stop lol.

Keep in mind I’m analysing a Japanese -> Chinese translation in English, and I don’t have the Japanese raws, so the word choices may be off. And I am probably overanalysing but yes, I will eat these ChibaHaya crumbs for the tiniest bit of information.

Also keep in mind manga Chiba is more social than Hayami (you can check Fumiko’s posts for more information, she’s the Chiba expert haha). So while these two may have the same responses (eg. smiling because of what the other said), it weighs differently.

So Hayami was originally going home, but stopped when she saw Chiba trying to figure out a problem. And so she helped him pump the balloons to act as Chiba’s targets. They discussed for a bit, then they both said they were surely getting closer to their “answer”.

And then they both smiled. The translation is “速水露齒而笑。千葉也回以微笑。” which is “Hayami grinned, and Chiba returned with a smile”. But notably, the translator used “露齒而笑” (literally: grinning with teeth) for Hayami and just “笑” (smile) for Chiba. “笑” and “微笑” (which also means smile, but a little softer) are used five times in total, and considering they’re interchangeable in Chinese, the translator probably used them to add variety. But “露齒而笑”? That’s different. That’s the only time the translator used this term to describe someone smiling. And “grinning (with teeth)” feels more joyful than “smiling”. And it’s used to describe Hayami’s reaction.

Hmm.

By the way, let’s count how many times they smiled in this chapter. Hayami smiled 3 times, Chiba also 3. And literally every time they smile it’s in response to something the other did/said. Chiba smiles more than Hayami in the manga, so the fact that Hayami is smiling so much in front of Chiba... hmmm...

As mentioned before, Hayami stuttered when Chiba praised her. In the translation, she barely stuttered anywhere else. Hmm.

After a very long time, Chiba lifted his head and turned to Hayami.

“Hayami, you’re brilliant! So it was like this all along! Why have I never noticed something so simple?”

“Wh-what?”

Yeah. She stuttered after Chiba called her brilliant/amazing.

And then, of course, the most telling paragraph follows.

Hayami felt bewildered upon seeing the suddenly agitated Chiba. Even though she had always been looking at him in E class, she hardly recalled seeing him so delighted.

She had always been looking at him. Whoa.

The Chinese translation is “雖然一直在E班看著他”, special focus on “一直” (always) and “看” (look). Like, okay, it could mean “from her daily observations, she didn’t recall seeing such an expression” or “looking after him” or “knowing him from school” but this phrasing just makes me think she’s staring at him in class. And you know what, Chiba actually sits behind Hayami in another row. So she has to turn around to “look” at him, which is a deliberate action. Of course the translation used “E class”, which also means training and other misc stuff and not just conventional lessons.

Either way, she’s been observing him. She’s ALWAYS been observing him. Continuously. And she knows she’s never seen him so joyful. And the translator (and maybe Matsui?) felt the urge to point it out.

After complimenting Hayami, Chiba proceeds to explain his new theory. And thus the passage:

“So what do you think?”

Chiba turned to Hayami, a smile quirking on his lips. He lightly prodded the pages of his notebook with his mechanical pencil.

“That’s brilliant!” Hayami also used an excited tone to reply as she looked down at the diagram.

“If you weren’t there, I probably wouldn’t have thought of it. Even though it’s really simple once you notice it...”

Hayami used a smile to respond to his words.

The word “也” (also) is used in Hayami’s happy response to China. Granted, it may be a translator thing, to add word variety and connectives, but the sentence makes perfect sense without the 也.

From this we can infer Hayami’s mood is affected by Chiba’s, and probably vice versa, but Hayami’s case is specifically mentioned.

Next day, Chiba stays behind to practice again. And he looks sad because he’s failing.

Hayami thinks “I suppose even people like Chiba will feel uneasy when thinking about official operations” (一旦設想正式行動，即使是千葉這樣的人類也會感到不安吧。) This makes me !!!! because it sort of implies Hayami thought Chiba won’t be nervous. She thought of him in a positive light, only for him to disprove it. Also, the use of “吧”. “吧” is commonly used in dialogue, so here it implies Hayami is thinking the whole line despite the lack of speech bubbles, not some omniscient narrator saying it.

Then Hayami tries to encourage him.

“Relax. If you think it’s right, then it has to be.”

“Even though hearing you say that makes me happy...”

^ this is one of the most mutual shippy moments in my opinion. Hayami has total faith and trust in Chiba, and Chiba literally told her that her trust in him makes him happy. It just feels... kinda shipbaity. The sentence structure “雖然你這麼說讓我很開心啊……” (Even though hearing you say that makes me happy...) feels like something out of a romance novel (especially in Chinese), even though the words don’t exactly have a romantic meaning.

Chiba says Hayami’s words makes him “happy”, but he’s still troubled by the shooting problem. Hayami trusting Chiba despite Chiba not trusting himself makes him happy. Oho. That... can be interpreted in a shippy way.

When Hayami sees that Chiba is still troubled, she “nonchalantly” says “to fill in the gaps using intuition” (看著無法消除不安情緒的千葉，速水若無其事地說。”無法確定的地方，用直覺填補就好了喲。”)

I believe there’s a typo here, since the next line is “千葉帶著的表情抬頭看著速水”, which is “Chiba lifted his head to look at Hayami with a xxx expression”. So the translator accidentally left out his expression (the sentence doesn’t make sense otherwise), but we can easily infer Chiba’s feelings from the following lines.

Chiba basically thinks “Intuition? What? She’s talking about things unrelated to this shooting problem again.” He doesn’t say it out loud (no speech bubbles), but he probably shows his doubt through his facial expression that the translator unfortunately left out.

And Hayami wants to prove him wrong.

So Hayami roughly glanced around the classroom, and quietly uttered, “Vase, tape, Korosensei.”

Before Chiba could ask “what are you talking about?”, Hayami swiftly pulled out a pistol from her thigh and shot three bullets with surprising speed.

Hayami hits all three targets without aiming precisely. Naturally, Chiba is in awe, calling it a “miracle”. Chiba says even though he, out of everyone in 3-E. can shoot the furthest target using calculations, he can’t imitate Hayami’s perceptual(?) type of shooting.

And then:

Hayami shot a stunned Chiba a smile.

The word for “stunned” (目瞪口呆) literally means “eyes wide, mouth frozen”, but that’s just a Chinese phrase for being stunned.

Honestly, to me, I feel:

Hayami wants to help Chiba -> Chiba is in doubt -> Hayami wants to prove him wrong and show off -> she quickly shoots her targets based on intuition/emotion, not even waiting to hear what Chiba has to ask -> (she wants to show off lol) -> when she sees he’s in awe, she smiles (smugly?)

ALSO, Hayami may have gained confidence after Chiba praised her by saying she’s brilliant, and that may be why she shot so quickly (since the adrenaline rush or something.)

Hayami then says something:

“And if at that time, you’re not confident in your theories, in the end, I’ll still shoot according to my gut feelings. (Basically saying if you can’t do it, I can do it for you.) We can do what the other cannot do. If we team up and become partners, there’s no target we cannot hit.”

Chiba gazed at Hayami’s face for a moment, then smiled and said, “Thanks.”

Wow. What surprised me is that Hayami’s the one with the speech— she’s the more serious and reserved out of the two. For her to say something so “sentimental” when she’s usually like “I respect you”, wow...

By the way, “凝視” (gaze) is used. It can mean stare, but it usually means gaze. Also he gazed at her face (臉). This is specifically mentioned. Mmmmm.

And I can’t get over “將兩者合為一體的話一定能順利地進行”. It means “if we combine two into one, it’ll definitely proceed smoothly”. They’re... MERGING lmao. It’s so shipbaity.

There’s also more stuff, like how they agree on something without speaking, but that’s... typical ChibaHaya stuff. And that’s it.

SO:

Possible hints of Hayami’s feelings towards Chiba:

1. Hayami immediately helped Chiba with practice even though she was intending to go home

2. SHE LOOKS AT HIM IN CLASS. Bro. I can’t make this up.

3. Hayami is happy when Chiba is

4. SHE STUTTERED WHEN HE SAID SHE’S BRILLIANT

5. She wanted to prove him wrong by showing off (this is a stretch)

6. She low-key put him on a pedestal (?) because she thought he won’t be nervous (this is also a stretch)

Possible hints of Chiba’s feelings towards Hayami:

1. He was very noticeably happy, perhaps a side he only shows to people close to him

2. Chiba says Hayami praising him makes him happy

3. He gazed at her face. Yes, her face.

But I don’t think Chiba likes Hayami that way. Like, he didn’t stutter when she praised him, he just said he’s happy. Hayami is usually very chill and calm, and even quieter than Chiba, so when she stutters because of Chiba, hmm...

Of course all of this is immediately disproven by the mini comic, with Ritsu claiming they reply to their emails a day late and their heart rates don’t go up when next to each other. Psssh. Okay, Ritsu. I mean, we can always hc Ritsu is protecting her friends’ privacy by lying about them. And of course Chiba and Hayami can stay as purely friends. I like their dynamic either way.

This concludes my rambling overanalysis of them. If you read till this point, I congratulate you <3 also reblogs appreciated :DD

[carromeaway]

Dazai is a Sociopath

Dazai is a Sociopath

A Persuasive Essay About Why Dazai is a Sociopath

By @carromeaway

Dedicated to @/bsdthoughts on Twitter

Created to annoy said user

Also, I thought this would be a good way to practice how to write arguments

This may contain spoilers! Read at your own risk.

Also trigger warning! Mentions of suicide and self-harm!

Oh, also here’s a PDF version if you don’t wanna read it here: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1aNYWMTb8wNEaoZGb9277_UcsUzNQjoHP/view

The definition of a sociopath, stated by the Oxford English Dictionary, is “a person with a personality disorder manifesting itself in extreme antisocial attitudes and behavior and a lack of conscience.” In this essay, I will be explaining the personality disorder and how it correlates to Dazai Osamu’s character in Bungou Stray Dogs. I will be focusing on four key points for my argument; how Dazai fits the attributes of a sociopath, why I do not consider him a psychopath, how it affects his relationship with others, and how it may explain his past and his actions. Keep in mind that this is only a theory and I will be including both assumptions and speculations to support my argument. 

Let us begin with the point how Dazai fits the attributes of a sociopath. Common signs of a person with sociopathy, or an antisocial personality disorder, include lying or deceiving others for a goal, being charismatic and manipulative, criminal behavior, lack of empathy and/or remorse, struggles with forming good relationships, recklessness for his and others’ safety, and irresponsibility among other things. Dazai has exhibited behavior with all of these symptoms. I could give a variety of examples where Dazai has lied or manipulated someone for the sake of achieving his objective. For the sake of keeping this shorter, I’ll provide only a couple of situations.

    Dazai had been caught by the Port Mafia, albeit on purpose, and came across his old partner from his days in the mafia, Nakahara Chuuya. This happens in the tenth episode of the anime and the tenth chapter of the manga. During his interaction with Chuuya, Dazai manipulates Chuuya by blackmailing him using the fact that Chuuya was the one who released Dazai from his chains. He also blackmails the mafia by sending them a threatening letter containing a simple statement, warning the mafia that if he were to die, then all their secrets would be exposed. Another example of his manipulative behaviour would be when it is insinuated that Dazai deflates Sakaguchi Ango’s airbag in his car so he would sustain multiple injuries when another car rammed into theirs. This was to force Ango, a government agent, to cover up the 35 murders that Izumi Kyouka, an Armed Detective Agency member, had committed. This takes place in episode 19 (episode 7 of season 2) of the anime and chapter 26 and 33 of the manga.

    Dazai has also displayed recklessness, irresponsibility, and a lack of empathy and remorse. Using the same example as before, Dazai showed no remorse for Ango when he was severely injured by the car accident. Dazai is often irresponsible, pushing his work on to others and lazing about when he should have been productive. This is a repeated pattern throughout the entirety of the manga and anime, so I’m sure if you’re reading this, you have no need for any examples. Additionally, Dazai has always been very reckless with his actions, his plans often include someone being thrown to the sharks. You can see this in episode 21 (episode 9 of season 2) in the anime and chapters 30-31 in the manga when Chuuya is forced to use Corruption to defeat H.P. Lovecraft as planned by Dazai. 

    I could go on for a while about Dazai’s sociopathic traits, but that is not the focus of this essay, so let us move on to my second point. Dazai is not a psychopath. Psychopaths and sociopaths have many similar symptoms. Every trait I listed previously are ones that both types of people share. So, why would I not consider Dazai a psychopath? There is a very simple reason for that. One of the biggest differences between a psychopath and a sociopath is the ability to be attached to others. While psychopaths may be able to fake a relationship, whether it’s platonic or romantic, they are completely unable to form real bonds with other people. On the other hand, while it may be difficult for them, sociopaths can have genuine relationships with others. 

    My biggest piece of evidence for this section is the bond between Oda Sakunosuke and Dazai. Dazai in the Dark Era, when he is in the Port Mafia, and Dazai when he joins the Armed Detective Agency are two very different parts of the same whole. Dazai in the Port Mafia is quite a bit more serious and emotionless, while Dazai in the ADA is much more lighthearted compared to his former self. There is a huge fact to point out, though. Dazai with Odasaku was strikingly dissimilar to how he acted without Odasaku there. Dazai acted a lot more childish with Odasaku around, exhibiting their comfortability around each other. They had a close bond and Dazai was a lot more vulnerable around Odasaku than around anyone else. That was the reason Odasaku was able to understand Dazai better than anyone else.  

    In chapter 4 of the light novel, Dazai Osamu and the Dark Era, and in episode 16 (episode 4 of season 2) of the anime, Odasaku talked about Dazai during his fight with Mimic’s leader, André Gide. He stated, “I still have one unfinished matter. I didn’t say goodbye to my friend.” He later goes on to explain the difference between Gide and Dazai, who were both actively seeking death. This displays their closeness, and it is canon that only Odasaku was able to get that far into Dazai’s mind. Dazai also showed sorrow when Odasaku passed away, which is an emotion that is difficult for sociopaths to feel unless they have a bond with someone. As a side note, I would also like to point out that while there is no certain proof, Dazai does seem to feel a little remorse for some of his harmful actions. That is another trait unique to sociopaths in comparison to psychopaths.

    My third point is how Dazai’s possible antisocial personality disorder may affect his relationships with other people. While you may argue that Dazai can feel sympathy for others, especially when he is the one who saved Nakajima Atsushi from starvation, I believe that that was only for Odasaku. In episode 16 (episode 4 of season 2), Odasaku explicitly tells Dazai to “protect the weak and save the orphans.” It would make sense if Dazai only saved Atsushi because he felt as if he had to carry out his friend’s orders. 

I would also like to point out his relationship with Nakahara Chuuya. Before I begin explaining, I feel the need to mention that this is mainly speculation and is very likely to be proven wrong. Dazai and Chuuya seem to have a deep hatred for each other, as you can tell by the multiple times they have stated that they despise each other. An example would be episode 21 (episode 9 of season 2) in the anime and chapters 30-31 in the manga. While I do not want to put words into their mouths, I would like to point out that their actions contradict their statements. In the same episode, Chuuya expressed worry for Dazai when he is thrown into the tree and nearly loses his arm. In another scene, Dazai cleans up the blood on Chuuya’s face and neatly folds his clothes after Chuuya passes out from exhaustion as he had been using Corruption (or Tainted, whatever you prefer). While he does abandon him, it goes to show that Dazai has, at least, a little bit of a conscience. 

This may be a long shot and you are free to argue (respectfully) with me about this, but I believe that Dazai does not really hate Chuuya. There are three emotions that are the easiest for sociopaths to feel. Hatred, anger, and fear. I think Dazai has some conflicting feelings about Chuuya (I swear I’m not insinuating anything), but he resorts to hatred to define those feelings because it was simply the easiest emotion to feel. On a similar note, Dazai doesn’t really have any good relationships with the people he interacts with, like his coworkers at the ADA. While they may care about him and vice versa, the relationship with his coworkers doesn’t seem to go deeper than mutual respect and common decency. 

My fourth and final point in this essay is how Dazai’s sociopathy correlates with his actions and his past. Now, I warn you, there isn’t a lot of evidence for this theory, but I hope you can still hear me out about it. I think Dazai understands that he is a sociopath. You could argue with me that Dazai isn’t a sociopath, that he feels sympathy for the innocent people who get caught up in their business, but I don’t buy that. While this sounds quite harsh, I don’t believe that Dazai has a sense of empathy, especially when Dazai continues to inconvenience others despite knowing what he’s doing. But if Dazai knows he’s a sociopath, why doesn’t he change? Well, that’s simple. He can’t. There’s no way he can force himself to feel empathy and adjust his actions. His brain doesn’t work that way. He can pretend to be sympathetic, but what’s the point in that? 

Now, how does Dazai’s acknowledgement of his sociopathic tendencies affect him? Let’s begin with Dazai’s past and build from there. In episode 26 (episode one of season three) and in the light novel, Fifteen Years Old, when Dazai is asked why he wants to die, he replies, “Let me ask you, then. Do you think there is any value in the act of living?” Throughout this light novel and the light novel, Dazai Osamu and the Dark Era, Dazai continues to show a pattern of hopelessness. All he longs for is to view the world differently than he already does, but if he cannot achieve that, he would rather die. But I think, as he grows, Dazai’s mindset changes. His desperation for death becomes a joke, something he doesn’t take as seriously anymore. I believe Dazai realized his sociopathy, and while he couldn’t change how he experiences his emotions, he began to think differently. What if Dazai believes that he doesn’t deserve to live, that no one would want him around because of his sociopathic tendencies? But he wants to live. After Odasaku’s death and after he’s experienced the light, he begins to realize that there is something worth living for. He just doesn’t believe he deserves it. I do not have any solid evidence to prove this theory, but it was something interesting that I would want others to consider.

For anyone who has gotten this far, I congratulate you. It must have been difficult to read my scatter-brained thoughts. Before we end this, I would like to clarify something. I am not a medical professional. I do not have a degree in psychology, but I am studying it. Please take that into consideration if you decide to debate my theory with me. For anyone who didn’t feel like reading through this, I won’t even bother with a summary. Trust me, it’s not worth your time. Thank you for reading and thank you to my friend who has put up with my dumb theories. You can message me on Instagram @carromeaway if you would like to discuss my theory or the show in general. Also, ask me any questions in the comments, whether it’s to clarify something or to ask me to analyze another character or to even elaborate further on Dazai’s character. I could talk about this for hours.

Citations:

Antisocial personality disorder. (2019, December 10). Retrieved November 29, 2020, from https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/antisocial-personality-disorder/symptoms-causes/syc-20353928

Bungo Stray Dogs Wiki. (2020, December 03). Retrieved November 29, 2020, from https://bungostraydogs.fandom.com/wiki/Bungo_Stray_Dogs_Wiki

Duignan, B. (n.d.). What's the Difference Between a Psychopath and a Sociopath? And How Do Both Differ from Narcissists? Retrieved November 29, 2020, from https://www.britannica.com/story/whats-the-difference-between-a-psychopath-and-a-sociopath-and-how-do-both-differ-from-narcissists

Grohol, J. (2020, May 20). Differences Between a Psychopath vs Sociopath. Retrieved November 29, 2020, from https://psychcentral.com/blog/differences-between-a-psychopath-vs-sociopath/

Robinson, K. (2014, August 24). What's the Difference Between a Sociopath and a Psychopath? Retrieved November 29, 2020, from https://www.webmd.com/mental-health/features/sociopath-psychopath-difference

[sunflowerstalks]

Maybe If Remus Had a Plan in the First Place This Fic Would Have Had a Name, Too

Remus is Remus, Roman is tired, and there’s a cat, too. Expected chaos ensues.

This is my gift for Pigeon, @the-pigeon, for @sanderssidesgiftxchange! I hope you enjoy your gift, and i hope your holidays were and continue to go well! Also, happy new year!! :D

word count: 2125

rating: teen and up (for slight language/innuendo)

content warnings: slight innuendo/language typical of remus, hair pulling as a stim, descriptions of bad things happening to animals (as an intrusive thought, it is dealt with accordingly), slight anxiety attack/sensory overload moment

relationships: platonic sides (all of em) with brotherly roman&remus focus, implied/background romantic roman/virgil and romantic patton/remus but it’s pretty subtle

characters: roman, remus, virgil, patton, logan, janus, c!thomas (meaning both character!thomas and cat!thomas asfhjakfh)

additional tags: high school au, punk au, heist fic, like slight conflict and then mostly fluff and comfort. also, side note, cain and abel are the twins’ cats sdhjgdskfh

“Remus.”

“Roman.”

A beat.

“Any chance you could explain… any of this?” Roman gestures wildly to the pile of metal scraps, receipts, the feral cat, and assorted other trinkets strewn across the sidewalk in front of Remus, before crossing his arms and impatiently awaiting an answer without his usual air of, well, put-together-ness.

“Well, I’d actually gotten around to finally cleaning my wallet, when—”

“The cat, Remus! Whose cat is this? Why do you have it? Why is it surrounded by trash?” Roman’s voice increased in both volume and shrillness as he went on, hands reaching unconsciously to tug at his hair.

“Hey, don’t do that shit,” Remus tugged at the cuffed jean at Roman’s ankle for emphasis, “Anyways, like I was saying, I was cleaning my wallet when I remembered that I was like, eighty assignments behind in anatomy, so I figured I could do some cool art or somethin’ with a cat! For… extra credit or something.” Remus faltered for a moment, “In all honesty, I didn’t think I’d get this far.” He had thought getting the cat would be the hard part, so now he was stuck in the swing of success without a direction to turn. Roman, however, was still stuck on the small details (in Remus’ humble opinion).

Roman took a deep breath, muttering something that sounded a lot like a prayer for forgiveness, before looking down at his brother yet again.

“Remus.”

“Yes, brother dearest?”

“Whose cat is this?”

“Do you want the honest answer?”

Roman looked moments away from manslaughter, yet managed to nod anyways. Remus’ face broke into a shit-eating grin;

“I have no fucking clue.”

---

“Let me get this straight—”

A chorus of ‘good luck with that’s and similar sentiments echoed Logan’s statement, much to his chagrin.

“Okay. Redo.”

“You can’t just say ‘redo’ IRL, Lo,” Virgil chuckled, not even bothering to look up from his phone—he had already checked out from the drama, but stayed for the simple pleasure of experiencing the familiar banter—and in fear of being called to the dean’s office for cutting class. Mostly the latter.

“And I would argue that you cannot say ‘IRL’ in a verbal conversation, yet here we are,” Logan paused for emphasis, adjusted his necklaces for the umpteenth time, and smoothed his hands over the table again before continuing, “Regardless. The situation that you—and I mean you two,” he gestured to the twins, “there is hardly a ‘we’ fault-wise here—have gotten into, is one of... feline larceny, without a known victim? Is that correct?” Remus nodded sheepishly—or as sheepish as his wolfish features could get, all teeth and eyes—while Roman just stewed in rage. Remus’ backpack laid halfway zipped on the lab table, and every once in a while a pink nose and whiskers would find its way into the light before being shoved back by a flurry of hands, aware of what yet another detention would mean for the twins. They couldn’t all just skip, though—they learned that the hard way from the last time one of Roman and Remus’ harebrained schemes had made its way from “a slight nuisance” to “an unignorable thorn in everyone’s side that also somehow ends with arson.” So, they had some past experience in handling the, well, experience that the twins brought along with their company—but they normally had at least a lead to work with.

“How,” Janus started, massaging his temples despite only just then contributing to the wreck of a conversation that their art class had devolved into, “do you steal a cat, and not know who from?” Remus just shrugged.

“It wasn’t intentional. I needed a cat, a guy had a cat, I didn’t ask questions. Was I supposed to?” Remus asked, eyebrows drawn together—normally, he’d be a sarcastic shit that would drive the group insane on (some level of) purpose, but now he just seemed genuinely afraid—of the consequences of his own actions, but, still—progress. Logan opened his mouth to offer his advice, but was silenced by the jarring ring of the bell. He sighed. This was going to be a long day of way more stress than he was qualified for—the twins were going to owe him another stick and poke if he had any say in the matter.

---

Remus must have been a wonderful, wonderful man in his past life. He had to have been. Because, somehow, by some good grace, he managed to make it through another two classes on his own, and to lunch in one piece, with a living cat by his side—well, in his backpack, but the merit stands. Logan could honestly say he was impressed—not that he would tell him that, though. Nevertheless, the six friends reconvened at lunch—still without a direction to turn.

“I could just put him back where I found him,” Remus started, attempting to break the icy silence at the table with a jackhammer as always.

“Do you even know where that is?” Roman scoffed, incredulous.

“Well, no, but I could get close.”

“This isn’t helping,” Logan interjected, “How about you bring it to a shelter? One nearby where you found it?” The table nodded in general agreement, but Remus only frowned.

“But that isn’t where I got it from. What if it has an owner? What if the closest shelter isn’t a no-kill shelter, and we go to all the trouble of saving the cat only for the fucks at the shelter to hurt it?” Remus’ pace picked up with his heart rate—despite only having this cat for maybe six hours, if anything happened to it, Remus had a pretty good idea of what he’d end up doing.

“We can check for that, can’t we, Lo?” Patton chimed in, placing a calming, steady hand on Remus’ shoulder, which sunk, relieved, at the touch.

“Possibly. But, regardless, it isn’t Remus’ cat. Our priority is to get it back to its original owner, if it has one,” Logan pointed out, “If that isn’t possible, then we need to reevaluate our plan, come up with another, and settle for a different goal.”

“Have we at any point today even actually had a plan?” Virgil snickered, ever the pessimist—it wasn’t like he was really helping as he was, once again, staring at his phone.

“Well, it’s not like you’ve done much besides stare at your phone today, edgelord,” Remus snarked, though it came out as more of a mumble—his face was pressed into the table, and his eyes were on the cat in the bag.

“You’re gonna have to get better nicknames, Dukey, we’re all edgelords here,” Janus deadpanned, smudging an unhealthy amount of eyeshadow around his eyes while Virgil and Remus argued over their respective contributions.

“Okay, can you, my brother,” Roman pointed to Remus, whose teeth clacked with how fast he shut up, ”and you, my boyfriend,” he pointed to Virgil, who could only look the smallest bit abashed,  “calm all the way down? Stop arguing, holy shit—” Roman took another breath, relishing the silence that had fallen over the table before pushing on, “—how about we all go, together, and fix this shit? I mean, what could go wrong?”

---

The answer was a lot. A fucking lot could go wrong when six seventeen-year-olds tried to coordinate anything, let alone an amateur heist.

Remus managed to get through the rest of the school day without much incident, but the rest of them were not so lucky, managing to receive a grand total of three detentions and six failed tests from lunch to the end of seventh period between the five of them. The teens recounted the horror stories of sixth period; Patton gesturing wildly from the driver's seat, Remus sat quietly (for maybe the second time in his life) in the passenger seat, and the remaining accomplices squished together in the back seat (which would fit three people at most for any group that wasn’t them). Also in the back seat was the cat, who had been dubbed “Thomas” for the time being—he was sat in Janus’ lap, curled up around an abandoned ball of yarn that had been left under one of the seats. The car ride across town would have been incredibly tense and unbearably long without the feline, and for that, Remus was grateful—even if he still had a sinking feeling of guilt swirling in his stomach.

---

           After a surprisingly uneventful car ride (except for the stop at a drive through for a morale boost (Patton’s words) of coffees and drinks which ended, after a rather nasty pothole, with a massive stain on the roof of the car), the party settled into the waiting room at the—no-kill, Remus triple checked—animal shelter. There weren’t enough chairs, so the group made more of a pile around Thomas, some of them standing, and the others sitting both on chairs and the floor. Juxtaposed with the sterile white of the walls, they stood out like the emo cousins that they basically were. Remus bounced his leg, up, down, up, down, over and over. He kept knocking his knee against Janus’, which jostled Thomas every time he did.

“Sorry,” Remus mumbled, trying to focus on holding still.  But it itched in the back of his brain, guilt and stress and fault and all the wonderful, terrible feelings churning, over and over. The clock behind the desk was too loud, and Remus couldn’t do anything about it because they wouldn’t even have to be here if not for him. So he kept his mouth shut and tried not to cry—for all of two minutes, because that was when Janus decided that he had had enough, and shoved a ball of fur into his arms. For a moment, Remus was terrified he was going to fuck it up, hurting Thomas or himself or causing some other inevitable disaster, but Thomas just pushed his warm face into Remus’ palm, and suddenly, somehow the only thing Remus could feel was loved. He choked out a wet laugh, unable to contain the bubbling build-up of emotions that had been brewing since he first saw Thomas that morning. His friends all looked at him, concerned at first, but all they could do was coo at Remus being the softest they had ever seen him. He sniffed, and gave them all a watery smile.

“Thanks, guys.”

“Sincerity? In my brother? It’s more likely than you think!” Roman teased, poking his brother in the arm. Remus stuck his tongue out at him, and the teens devolved into familiarity, playful taunts and sincere joy, waiting to be called back for Thomas’ check up.

---

While the veterinarian had been momentarily taken aback at the request for all six visitors to be in the room during the appointment, she also hadn’t seen a reason to say no at the time. Thus, once again, like the clowns they were, they piled into the room and crowded around the table, Thomas at the heart of it all—confoundingly calm given the situation, at least to the onlookers.

The veterinarian introduced herself to each of them, and began examining the cat for any injuries, microchips, or anything out of place.

“He seems to be healthy, no broken bones or infections…” The doctor said, reaching for a handheld device, “If he’s microchipped, and I’m able to reach the owner, you boys will be off the hook, okay?” Remus cringed, but nodded—he needed to remember that Thomas wasn’t his before he got hurt. She ran the scanner over Thomas’ back, and hummed.

“I’m… actually not finding anything. You said he was lost?”

“I don’t know for sure,” Remus confessed, “I found him on the street, so he could be a stray.”

“It seems he was a very lucky one, for sure. Most cats his age are incredibly susceptible to outside bacteria—finding you guys likely saved his life.” Remus’ eyes widened, and his hand reached for Thomas almost instinctively.

“You said that he doesn’t have an owner?”

“Not that I can determine, no. Did he have a collar, any sort of identification?”

Remus shook his head.

“Well, there are two options in the meantime; we can hold on to him, and put him up for adoption through our services, or you could adopt him. He needs to be immunized and neutered, first, but where he ends up is up to you guys.” Remus thought to himself for a moment.

“Hey, Roman. How mad do you think Mom would be if we brought Cain and Abel home a new friend?”

---

The answer? Not mad enough to outweigh her happiness at Remus’ smile with Thomas in his arms. And even though he didn’t end up getting the extra credit in anatomy, Remus’ circle of best friends grew by one, so he thinks he did alright in the end.