#they all want a saviour and a hero to take away the need for personal accountability and the work of self-interrogation

[hussyknee]

rb'ing OP's tags because important.

"the man we idolised turned out to be a bad person, but it's okay, this other man hasn't fucked up yet so we can just idolise him twice as hard!"

Do you people not see the problem

[lilylovestowrite]

Can I request lumine x female reader who can't fight that well and knows that lumine can protect herself and fight since she's the legendary traveler, but still won't hesitant to shield her with her body if she's suddenly knocked out by an enemy or she's on the verge of falling while clenching her sword, and these actions made lumine admire her and she ends up having a secret crush on reader.

SAVIOUR'S INDULGENCE ୨♡୧

PAIRING ୨♡୧ (Lumine x AFAB! Reader)

WARININGS ୨♡୧ Minor Angst, Injury

SYNOPSIS ୨♡୧ The three times you save Lumine, and the one time she asks you on a date

WORD COUNT ୨♡୧ 1K 

A/N ୨♡୧ Thank you for the request! I have no clue why, but this turned kind of angsty. I kind of headcanon Lumine to be the more ‘no-nonsense’ sibling compared to Aether, so perhaps that’s why. I hope this is to your liking!

Divider by @/cafekitsune

Lumine, with her heroic personality and no-nonsense drive to finish her commissions, has always been the ‘Knight in Shining Armour’ of any predicament she finds herself in. An “Honorary Knight” in Mondstadt, “The Hero of Liyue” , “The First Sage of Bu’er”, need she go on? These titles raise her to the top of the social ladder (until she ends up in the Fortress of Meropide but that’s besides the point)- so why is it that when all of her strength accumulated could (and has) beaten a god, do you always cover for her? 

You’re a terribly fragile little thing. No outstanding physical attributes. Heck, she’s seen you struggle to lift a carton of milk! But despite that, you always come to her rescue. 

The first, was perhaps in Mondstadt when she decided to go looking for sunsettias to cease Paimon’s rumbling stomach from driving the both of them insane. A few abyss mages corner the poor Traveller and she manages to absolutely annihilate the cryo and pyro abyss mage by swirling their powers against each other. But the hydro mage remains, and she finds herself and Paimon in a bubble of their own. Lo and behold, a fresh-faced lass from the Adventurer’s guild dressed in greens and whites distracts the Hydro Mage by weakly tackling it, allowing Lumine to escape her watery confinement. 

The second time around was in Liyue. Long story, really, but her dress catches on fire because of an abyss lector. As she gives him the finishing blow, you hurry over to douse the fire eating away at her lovely white skirt. However, the abyss lector lets out a final attack as her back turned to you. Time practically runs through honey, Lumen watches in horror as you dive in front of her to take the brunt of the attack. 

Now, in Sumeru, she finds herself back to the home of knowledge. The street music adds a pep to her step, and she's dressed a white and blue lehenga with golden starry details on the hem. The aroma of spices, petrichor and musky perfumes from the street stalls consumes the marketplace. The sun shines through the trees and casts a glow through her golden strands, and her eyes seem as if they have been set ablaze under the cool shade of the forest trees. Lumine, throughout her travels, tries her best not to get attached to the people she meets on the way. It’s not practical to make friends with half the continent and then desert them after relocating/rescuing/whatever the fuck she needs to do to get Aether back. But as Psimon blabs about the street food, she spots a lovely necklace with an oval centrepiece jewel the colour of your eyes. 

But of course, she’s not catching feelings. It’s not practical. Lumine doesn’t have time to loiter, she needs to earn enough mora to get to Natlan. She’s been doing a lot of side jobs lately: commissions from the Guild, odd errands here and there and working at that blasted fortune teller who told her that she had never seen so many love prospects in someone’s future. 

Of course it’s a ridiculous scam, but if there were to be a prospect, it would be nice if it were-

No. She doesn’t want to think about it. She doesn’t want to even perceive your beautiful face, or how lovely you would look in Sumerian attire, or your enrapturing voice, and god if she hears you say her name she might drop everything and just marry you. Heck, she hears your sweet voice just over the horizon. 

“Lumine!” 

Her yearning is so ridiculous, that she’s even envisioning you in a Salwar Kameez. The scarf (she remembers Dehya call it an ‘orna’)  made of beautiful georgette fabric, draped across your body. Wow, she can actually smell you as you edge closer. Perhaps she’s had one too many drinks- 

“Behind you!” 

It’s only when she feels you slam into her, a gust of wind slashing her face and the sickening crack of a wooden bat ringing loudly in her ears that she realises: you’re actually here. 

And you’re saving her. 

Again.

“Are you okay?” She asks, offering you her hand. However, when she spots crimson blooming through the fabric of the back of your salwar kameez, she drops the hand and kneels before you. “One second, I’m going to carry you, okay?” Her arms may look lithe, but Lumine effortlessly carries you to her teapot, where she bandages your wounds. 

“We should stop meeting like this,” you joke, but she winces in reply. 

“We should.” Comes her short answer. You assume it’s because she’s too busy wrapping around the gash at your back and checking for bits of splintered wood. But truly, Lumine can’t afford love, especially if it puts you in danger like this. 

“It doesn’t hurt as bad as it looks. Promise!” You try to lighten her mood, and Lumine sighs, a heavy blush on her face as you turn around and hug her, half clothed. “See? I can still move!” 

And Lumine, the starry eyed fool, melts in your warmth. Her defences melt away, wrapping her arms around you carefully. She prays that you don’t notice her heart beating out of her chest. Her mouth opens, and they shut. And open again, like a gaping fish. 

Hesitation drips from her usually confident voice, but she blurts it out: “Let’s go to dinner, how does tonight sound?” 

She’s going to leave. She’s going to leave Teyvat after finding Aether, and she has to stop him and the Abyss Order. She’s going to leave you and there is nothing she can do about it. 

But she can’t resist indulging herself, just a glimpse of a date with you would suffice. 

She holds you tighter, and you nuzzle into her neck, softly. It’s then that she sighs sadly, wishing time would stop so she can replay this moment forever. You might have saved her life, but you don’t know, do you? You don’t know that your very presence is the biggest danger to her of all. 

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Please write something with this when u have time?

“What are you doing in my house?”

The villain, draped across the windowsill, regarded the hero with a coy look, as if the answer was obvious. “You left your window open.”

“That’s usually not an invitation,” the hero replied. They had moved one too many times because of uninvited visitors and the hero had just gotten used to this apartment. Often, they felt like they couldn’t win, no matter what. They felt like a failure, someone who couldn’t even secure their own home.

“I’m not searching for a fight.” The villain stepped into the living room, studying everything before their eyes found the hero. All together, they seemed quite peaceful. Observant. “I’m here on, well, you would call it a mission, I suppose.”

“Not interested, sorry.” The hero was getting sick of missions. Bridges falling down, subways derailing, buildings collapsing. Heroes die alone, they always do, and even though the hero wasn’t loving their job, death was a tad too far.

Still, every single mistake they made would be printed and posted. Every failure would come right back at them with an intensity that chewed on their spirit. They didn’t have time for therapy, so they felt themselves turn into a bitter human being.

In all honesty, did the hero deserve this? Probably…it’s easy to point and laugh at someone, even just for a second, so thinking about one’s own personal failures can become bearable. The hero had power, the hero had responsibility. Who deserved more to be blamed for failure than the most powerful being in the city?

“I’m just here because our sidekicks are friends, okay?” the villain said. They weren’t in costume and the hero didn’t see any weapons. As a civilian they looked quite nice. “They told me where you live. They’re worried about you. ”

The hero looked up from the pan they were cleaning. A failing villain was a win for the city and a failing hero was a catastrophe.

Hadn’t they done enough? Hadn’t they worked hard enough? Hadn’t they saved enough people? When was it their turn to be satisfied?

“My sidekick doesn’t know where I live. Safety protocol,” the hero said. The villain’s ears turned red and they cleared their throat.

Their eyes were glued to the floor. A rather futile attempt to hide their lie.

“Okay, well…it’s still true. They’re worried about you. You’re overworking yourself. They said you’re in danger.”

“And you wanted to come and save me?” the hero asked. Their chuckle was as insincere as it could get. “How cool is that? I’m getting saved by the villain.”

Silence. Only the siren of an ambulance far away cut through it.

“I’m not a saviour,” the villain said finally. They walked towards the hero who was more or less done with cleaning the dishes. “The morality of it is…confusing to me.”

“It’s quite simple, actually. All of it is a trolley problem and no matter what you do or how many people you save, people will prattle and hate and blame you,” the hero sneered, letting their sponge fall into the dirty dishwater. At the end of the day, not doing anything might be better.

“Maybe you need a vacation.”

“Vacation? You’re funny.” The hero laughed humourlessly yet again. They hadn’t been on vacation for what? Five years now? Having the luxury of a vacation was an insane thought.

Sometimes they thought this decadence of their character made them unendurable enough to turn themselves into a villain.

“It’s okay to find out that your dream sucks,” the villain said softly. They were hesitant as they put a hand on the hero’s shoulder. “It’s okay to find out that what you’ve always wanted isn’t what you expected and that it’s not the right thing for you.”

The hero didn’t find that so funny. They looked up at their enemy, the person they had sworn to fight and hate.

“It’s okay to be dissatisfied and tired. It’s okay to hate what you’re doing. It’s not okay to hold onto that, though.”

“I have a responsibility.”

“Yes,” the villain said. “The responsibility to take care of yourself. You’re falling apart and I am not a saviour. I can’t save you from yourself. I can only challenge you to do better. So, do better. Be better and start taking care of yourself instead of everyone else.”

The hero had the tiny suspicion that the villain wasn’t doing this for their sidekick’s sake.

@avvail thank you for the prompt hihi

[thedrarrylibrarian]

hey, do you know of any drarry podfics?

Hello! Your holds have arrived!

Yes, I do have some podfics for you! I love listening to a podfic while I'm puttering around the house, or even occasionally on a long trip! It's so calming to have something to keep my mind engaged while I'm doing a repetitive task.

I hope these podfics are exactly what you've been looking for! And don't forget to check out my previous Podfics list!

Podfics 2

Your Presence Against My Skin written by @bafflinghaze, read by JocundaSykes (4 min, rated G)

Nightmares are a part of Harry's life; but so is Draco.

Too Many Potters written by @phdmama, read by @reveriepi (13 min, rated T)

Draco blinks, trying to make sense of what he's seeing.

“Weasley,” he says, not taking his eyes off the sight in the cell, “why are there eleven Potters in Holding B?”

“Twelve, actually,” Weasely replies from his desk. “I think one’s tucked away back in the corner.”

Harry Potter and the Incredibly Organized Personal Assistant written by megyal, read by @HappyHanabi (22 min, rated T)

Harry Potter's new assistant is snarkily organized.

5 times Draco Malfoy lied because of Harry Potter (and 1 time he was uncharacteristically honest) written by Ingi, read by ETL_Echo (26 min, rated G)

Although Draco Malfoy had no qualms against lying, he'd been taught from a young age how to benefit the most from his lies.

His Father had repeated the same over and over again, as Draco grew up: You shall never do anything that provides you no benefit. And Draco had never broken that sacred rule of his family, mostly because he'd never felt the compulsion to do so.

Of course Harry bloody Potter would have to come tumbling and ruin it.

Five Little Things written by @bixgirl1, read by ETL_Echo (38 min, rated T)

Harry was supposed to be good at this.

Still written by alexmeg, read by @reveriepi (47 min, not rated)

Dating Draco Malfoy, Harry thinks, will mean being at arms length outside of sex. No unnecessary physical contact or displays of affection. He wants him anyway, inexplicably. Perhaps that is exactly the kind of person he should be with, someone who will never need Harry to kiss him first, because Harry doesn't think he'll ever be that person.

The Full Monty written by @magpiefngrl, read by @sweatersinthesummer (1 hour, rated E)

Harry poses for a naked Auror calendar and Draco goes batshit crazy with lust.

Pinky Promises Are Powerful Magic written by megyal, read by @reveriepi (1 hour, 11 min, rated T)

Ickle Harry wants to stay with his newest hero.

the way you make me glow written by @softlystarstruck, read by @roseszain (1 hour, 14 min, rated M)

In a cottage next to the sea, love blossoms. Or perhaps it’s been there all along.

Potter written by Quine, read by @peony-podfics (1 hour, 17 min, rated T)

"Potter," Blaise muttered, a strewn over salt shaker in front of him.

"Where?" Draco asked, searching in vain for the raven-haired saviour.

Theo was grinning as he watched their exchange.

"Well," Blaise began, "As you're so fond of blaming all your problems on Potter, I thought I'd give it a try as well."

Crimson Neon written by @xanthippe74 and read by Spades (1 hour, 42 min, rated M)

Winter, 1999. Harry thought going to New York would help him get his head on straight, but all he has to show for it are sore feet and a fridge full of takeaway containers. And now he’s homesick on top of everything else. It doesn’t help that his mysterious neighbour in 2C keeps cooking dishes that remind Harry of home and all the people he lost or left behind.

Human written by @ghaniblue, read by @reveriepi (3 hours, rated E)

Harry isn't dealing well with being bitten and turned into a werewolf. Draco isn't dealing well with Harry packing up and leaving like a thief in the night. Things come to a head in a forest cabin in the German Ore Mountains.

Never Grow a Wishbone written by @shanastoryteller, read by SeaSage (10 hours, 41 min, rated T)

Draco returns to Hogwarts.

He has a duty to his blood and his name and his house, and he will fulfill it.

Always Already written and read by @aibidil (19 hours, 45 min, rated E)

Harry and Draco are perfectly fine, separately minding their business in 2004, when the Unspeakables conscript them into service... in the First War against Voldemort.

Come for mutual pining and forced proximity in a 1980 hotel room, stay for young Sirius and philosophising about immortality and wormholes. And an eighties cowboy soap opera.

❤️ As always, if you find a fic you enjoy, please remember to leave the author a kudos or a comment! ❤️

Lots of Love and Happy Reading!

[elemit]

A Gift, A Curse

A story in which we discover just how damned an ascended vampire can be, and just how far you will go to save the spawn you loved.

Read in full on AO3

dead dove/not beta read

fic warnings: Abuse, Angst, Biting, Blood and Gore, Blood Drinking, Bondage, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Food Restriction, Hate Sex, Horror, Mental Coercion, Mind Control, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Sexual Coercion, Torture, Total Power Exchange, Trauma, Vampire Bites

Chapter 8: Celebration

Maybe the tightness of your corset is having some effect after all, or maybe it is just the vigour with which Astarion drained you earlier, but you find yourself in a daze throughout the ceremony. Try as you might, you can barely even remember the exchange of vows. Only the very last line of them seems to be burned into your mind.

Even death could not part us.

You both agreed that a small wedding ceremony and celebration would suit you. Neither of you have many people from your past that you want to share in your special day. Only those companions that you had both travelled with, fought with, saved the world with. Even of that small group, you are fairly certain Astarion only invited some for their newfound positions of power, rather than out of any kind of longstanding affection. Certainly he and Gale had no love lost between them on your past travels, and even you cannot deny that Wyll’s saviour complex has become a little tiresome since being declared a hero of Baldur’s Gate. Still, you are glad for the excuse to see your old friends; your lives have all been so busy since the defeat of the Elder Brain that you haven’t had a chance to see any of them.

Shadowheart is the first to approach you once the vows are said and done. Astarion has hired a band to play in the corner of the ballroom, and tables around the edge of the room are piled with a feast fit for a hundred. You have sat at a table and taken a plate, but can do nothing more than stare at it wistfully as your friend takes a seat next to you.

“I believe they call this a ‘good spread,’” she says, helping herself to some of the piles of food. You smile at her. “So, you’re married to a vampire lord now. Are you sure that was a wise decision?”

Straight to the point as ever, you think. You could almost laugh at how predictable she is.

“How dare you question my lord and husband?” someone says, and your eyes grow wide when you realise the words came from your own lips. I didn’t say that, you want to say. I didn’t mean to say that. But the words refuse to form on your tongue.

“Gods, he really did turn you into a spawn. I suppose I knew it would only be a matter of time, but I didn’t think it would be like this.” Shadowheart sighed and shook her head. “I hope you know what you’ve gotten yourself into. I hope he treats you well. If he’s even able to.”

She looks sad as she meets your eyes, and you will her to be able to hear your thoughts - to tell her that you’re happy, to tell her that he does treat you well, to tell her that you’ve missed her - but the tadpoles are long gone, and she seems to take your stare as nothing more than a glassy-eyed glare.

“I don’t think I can watch any more of this,” she says. “I had hoped it wouldn’t be like this, what with him being ascended, but as it is… I think I’m going to go. Do pass my regards on to your lord and husband.” The words drip with spite, and she pushes her chair away from the table to rise. When she stands, she looks down at you and speaks for a final time. “I do love you, you know. Or I did love you— I don’t know if you’re still the person I loved. But if that person is in there, and ever wants to be free, just know I’ll be there. I can’t bear to witness this charade, but I won’t abandon you. If you need me— the real you— then I’ll be there.”

With that, she turns and leaves without a backwards glance.

———

You sit at the table alone for a while, stewing over what Shadowheart said to you, and worrying over the words that had come from your mouth without your control. Surely Astarion wouldn’t have used his powers on you. Not today. Not ever. He’d promised, hadn’t he? You cast your mind back, trying to remember a conversation that you’re unsure ever happened. He’d certainly said that he didn’t think he’d need to use his power over you, but that wasn’t quite the same thing, was it?

You catch sight of him talking with Wyll at the side of the room. Something in their body language makes you sense that they are doing more than exchanging pleasantries, and you strain your ears to try to listen to what is being said. Eventually, a lull in the music allows you to overhear a snippet of their exchange.

“The two of you are the unholiest union I can bloody imagine,” says Wyll, an uncharacteristic edge of steel in his voice.

“I don’t recall asking your opinion.”

“You had the most precious thing - someone who would do anything for you - and you damn well took everything. Degenerate doesn’t half cut it.”

“Watch yourself, boy. If your father wasn’t of such import I would have gutted you already for daring to speak that way to me. On my wedding day, of all days.”

Astarion’s eyes flick up and catch you watching him. You hurriedly look away, not wanting him to know that you’ve overheard their conversation. Blessedly the bulky form of Halsin quickly blocks you from his view, as the huge arch-druid pulls out a chair beside you.

“Is this seat taken?” he asks in his gentle, rumbling tones.

You smile and shake your head, and he takes a seat next to you.

“I can’t quite believe how much everything has changed,” he says, and he gestures around at the ballroom, but instinct tells you that he isn’t simply talking about the decor. Before you have a chance to question his meaning, a firm hand slips around the back of your neck, as though collaring you, and you feel your husband’s body pressed against your back.

“Enjoying your reunion with my pretty little bride, druid?”

“I enjoy the company of all those in this room, when I am lucky enough to get it.”

“But you did particularly enjoy her company, did you not? You hardly tried to hide the way you looked at her when we were travelling together. My love,” Astarion says, turning to you, the tone of his voice denoting that he has just had a wonderful idea, “why don’t you give Halsin a kiss?”

“What?” You and Halsin ask at the same time.

“A kiss, my love. Give Halsin a kiss.”

You look at Astarion in confusion, and he gives you a reassuring nod. You lean towards Halsin uncertainly, and plant a gentle kiss on his cheek. You don’t think you wanted to, but your body seems to move of it’s own accord.

“A proper kiss, my treasure. Show him what he’s missing out on.”

You glance at Astarion again, but his face is expectant, so you don’t question it this time, instead leaning in to kiss Halsin fully. His warm lips are unyielding beneath yours. When you pull away, he looks at you with sad eyes.

“To give oneself wholly, and to have a lover totally in your thrall? A harmless game, until it becomes real. I worry for the two of you, Astarion.”

“Ugh, must you take everything so seriously? We’re both happy with our arrangement, and that’s all that matters.”

“For your sake, I hope some of it is just a fantasy deep in your heart. I will take my leave of you now, I think, but I truly wish the best for both of you.”

As Halsin walks away from you, Astarion sighs. “I really don’t remember our companions being such dreadful bores. I suppose your charm on the road must have hidden their utter lack of it.”

Before you can ask him what he is doing - what he was thinking, telling you to kiss another man on your wedding day - a wizard-shaped distraction appears in front of the pair of you.

“Congratulations are in order. You two certainly wasted no time in tying the knot.”

“I rather thought I was a little slow. I’m used to being begged to wed and bed my quarries on the first night.”

“Tell me, do you always woo your lovers with such patient attention?”

You try not to smile. Sharp as their words are, this exchange is no different to the dozens of other sniping matches these two carried out on your many long hours on the road together. It almost feels nostalgic.

“As the Vampire Ascendant, I’ve granted my lover immortality and bound them to me forever. I shan’t need to woo anyone ever again.”

“I suppose I’m just surprised that you decided to marry at all. I admit I expected to you turn your back once you got what you wanted.”

“Quite the opposite. I need someone I can trust, and now I know she will never betray me.” He says these words with a smile at you, and there’s a softness to his eyes that reminds you of how he looked at you before the change. You smile back at him, and take his hand and squeeze it, and tell yourself that this is proof that he is still the same man. Sometimes you just have to look that bit harder to see it.

[can-of-w0rmz]

Do you ever notice how it’s only ever “mental health awareness” until said mental health starts making other people uncomfortable? People preach about suicide awareness until they have to actually face what would make somebody want to kill themselves.

Society has this thing where it’ll go on and on “reaching out” or for example “talking to a school counsellor” but the only image people have in their heads is some teenager from a troubled home, divorced parents probably, suffering from some mild depression, a bit of anxiety, and then they’ll comfort them and oh won’t they be the absolute hero, being such a good support to a poor suffering soul.

And of course, that hypothetical scenario I just gave is perfectly serious in its own right – of course no matter the severity of the mental health condition, no matter what the individual has gone through, of course they’re still deserving of help and comfort and love, and of course “mild depression and a bit of anxiety/divorced parents” is absurdly shitty to have to deal with and nobody should have to go through that alone, and yes, of course they should be comforted (although wholly without the aforementioned saviour complex.)

But society preaches about supporting those pushed outside the norm by their psychological health, but even then it fully has its own idea of what is inside the norm of outside the norm. Anything that falls outside that is pushed away and not spoken about, or, frankly, even viewed as depraved in some form or another. The moment somebody’s psychological condition starts to make people uncomfortable, all their self-righteous rhetoric about supporting those who need support flies outside the window, and society starts to panic. ‘“It’s ok not to be ok”, unless you start to make me feel uncomfortable.”

For example, yes, support the mentally ill until the mentally ill start to have intrusive or violent impulsive thoughts. Support the mentally ill until they find it difficult to communicate and function in society. Support the mentally ill until they can’t take care of themselves, don’t clean themselves. Support the mentally ill until they’re paranoid, until their thoughts aren’t based in logic. Support the mentally ill until they start to have hallucinations. Support the mentally ill until their psychological trauma disturbs you.

Support the mentally ill until they make you uncomfortable. If people start to be tormented by their own thoughts and the “vents” you expected of simply the four words, “I think I’m depressed” start turning into ranting that disturbs you, then they’re “weird” and that person is ostracised and left to rot in those thoughts. If someone self-harms, then they’re immediately labelled as “emo” or “doing it for the trend”, which is completely disgusting, but also interesting that most of the time this happens because society can’t comprehend the idea of wanting to harm yourself. Society can’t comprehend mental illness generally, so it’s shunned or seen as pathetic or laziness.

Of course, not everyone is equipped to deal with mental illness, and that’s perfectly fine. Some people may genuinely feel out of their depth and unable to help, and that’s ok. However it’s that ostracization, that dismissal out of discomfort or fear towards people that makes it all the worse and makes the people who preach about mental health awareness hypocrites.

It’s ok not to be ok until you fall outside the norm. Then you’re no longer human. You’re a disease.

Society can’t handle what it doesn’t fully comprehend, and instead fears it. It’s the same way with queer folk/specific different cultures, depending on your own/anything that society doesn’t understand, it fears. And the same is the way with mental illness. And when society fears something, it either becomes unspeakable, or it’s mocked.

[dinosaursatemymom]

my thoughts on kyman even though nobody asked

I just feel like I have to be very clear I DO NOT SHIP KYMAN, at least in the I think they should get together/would work in a relationship sense. I think that kyman is moreso like the joker and batman, in which it's not necessarily "love" but obsession that takes some roots in deep-seated, homoerotic(?) feelings. I do not think they work as a couple or that it could ever be a healthy relationship, but the dynamic they have of current is just suspicious, especially for two people who supposedly "hate" each other. I feel like it's no secret that Cartman has an unhealthy obsession with Kyle, but many people disagree that Kyle has an obsession with cartman.

Kyle obviously has some form of unhealthy obsession with cartman, if he didn't then he would just stay away from Cartman as much as possible, similar to how Wendy stays away from Cartman unless absolutely necessary. For someone who is supposed to hate Cartman, he sure spends a lot of time with him and definitely enjoys being around him(assburgers as a good example). I feel like Kyle having some strange obsession with cartman or being the "saviour" to fix him and/or rid the town of Cartman and his evil. Kyle needs to feel superior to Cartman, and needs to prove that to everyone. I think the reason for this is that Kyle knows, when it comes down to it, he would also murder, kidnap, or do whatever else it takes to achieve his goal. Often, this goal is to beat Cartman, when he's not helping Cartman, that is. I feel like deep down Kyle knows that he needs Cartman to feel superior, to prove that he is better. Kyle will never admit this though, he will never admit that he needs Cartman because that would prove that he doesn't do good thing because he is a good person, rather he wants to be a hero or a saviour. Admitting this would also prove that he is not superior to Cartman on some moral level (obviously I'm not saying Kyle is as bad as Cartman)

Kyle and Cartman have a very weird obsessive symbiotic relationship. I do not think they "love" each other in the sense most people think of love, it is an obsessive, cruel, necessity type of love, that is buried deep behind the layers of "hatred".

Kyman has been paralleled to the joker and batman, the joker is canonically in love with batman, which, if Cartman is the joker in this parallel shows one side kyman. If that's the farthest you look, but if you really look into the lore, batman also has the same obsessive tendencies towards the joker that the joker shows towards him. Which might not prove that they(the joker and batman) are both in "love" with each other it shows that they BOTH obsess over each other in a strange symbiotic way. Which, can be applied to kyman, as both Cartman and Kyle show obsessive behavior over each other and a constant need to get something from the other.

I think that in Cartmans case, he wants a reaction, but a type of reaction only Kyle can give him.

For Kyle, I think that he wants to be a saviour, by standing up to the evil racist bully, but is only satisfied when triumphant over Cartman.

Despite needing each other, in a strange way, neither one of them will admit this symbiotic relationship exists, ESPECIALLY KYLE.

So I guess here is my analysis that no one asked for, nor will anyone read. Please remember this is all my opinion and be respectful if you do read.

TL;DR : Cartman and Kyle have an obsessive symbiotic relationship that brings out the worst in both of them.

[hercssy]

i was born to act on instinct of wrath. to be fuelled like an infernal engine. act upon revenge from gut wrenching betrayal; that wasn’t even mine. but it gave me purpose. for years, it’s all i have ever known. to be a puppet with an expertise in the ancient art of the samurai. a katana in my hand, and string tied tight on my wrists and ankles. i never had a sense for my own will.

my past was written in both my own blood and that of my enemies. only to be thrown into the fire and reforged in redemption by a man with belief. belief in me.

every step i took, every life i stole made an orphan, a widow; an extinct bloodline was already a decision made before me. all that needed to be done was for me to execute it.

but now things have changed.

the taste of freedom was bitter.

i realised that with the hand that reached towards me to pull me into the daylight, my puppet strings were fragile; my blade guided by my hand slashed them one by one. the weight of my body was overbearing but there i stood and looked towards the sunrise. my lungs were my own to fill and even if it felt like they were buried in wet cement. i wouldn’t change my decision. to let a stranger be my guide to the sun.

and when i saw the sun for the very first time, an epiphany erupted in my mind. i could act upon my own revenge. i felt the start of my own wrath burn in my bones and sizzle in my muscles. i wanted to burn down a family tree from the roots and then upwards. i wanted to find out every detail about myself in the midst of my mission. my target was acquired. i was going to kill the takahashi family.

i was going to show them how hard the dog bites back. i was their greatest assest; their undying, broken winged, damaged, ferocious, beautiful monstrosity that they created. it was time to show them everything they taught me.

this path is lonely and i liked it that way. i had allies to give me the information i needed. i never stayed for long though.

ever since the funeral there was a feeling in me i just couldn’t shake away. that feeling sunk deep, opened my eyes that a new dawn was breaking into the sky. the good in this world was dying, becoming extinct. i was never meant to be apart of the good people in this world and when i placed a letter into the pocket of my friend’s suit he would lay to rest in i knew what i had to do to truly be set free.

i may have cut myself loose from their iron grip but to break my curse forever it meant more blood on my hands. i would be lying if i said i wasn’t going to enjoy it.

i stare at the headstone. i look over the etched writing like i have done many times before. i sit on my knees in silence. the only thing that whispered was the wind.

“i’m sorry.” i said, quiet and monotone. it felt uncomfortable to break the peace over the graveyard. i didn’t want to break the silence. i placed down a fresh bunch of flowers i hand picked myself at the bottom of the stone. my bandaged right hand brushed off the small amount of tiny debris built up.

i trace the engravings with my eyes once again.

‘HERE LIES CAPTN. STEVE GRANT ROGERS.’

‘hero to all, saviour of the world. beloved husband and friend. may he now rest in peace.’

“i am not the person who you believed i was going to be. i’m sorry.” i lift myself up, stretched my legs. i take one last soaking stare at the grave and then turn away to leave. i felt like i was walking through concrete. i pushed myself harder to walk away.

i had no tears left to cry.

[mylyricpages]

‘TO ABSENT FRIENDS’ - ARCHIVE SERIES - VOL. VI ( FULL LENGTH VERSION )

For me the lyrics that didn’t end up on my ’official’ lyric collections for whatever reasons still have their own charm and their own little place in my affections. Often they didn’t get onto those collections because they didn’t turn out quite as I’d imagined, or they didn’t quite fit in with the tone of the material that surrounded them, or sometimes, there simply wasn’t enough room on the particular collection they seemed to belong to.

But something about them still had a certain ‘something’ for me that just couldn’t be ignored.

I’ve got a few personal favourites among them and I’m glad that they can now finally see the light of day.

The first eleven ‘songs’ here are from an abandoned collection I never finished called ’When We Sent The Boys Away.’ It was written for Remembrance Day 2009.

Several months after my father passed away in March 2008 I found a batch of unfinished notes and lyrics that he had written. Later, in early 2010 I adapted them.

In the process of adapting them I mostly added the odd lyric for both a better flow.

Hope you enjoy

James Ellis

'When Sent The Boys Away' Sessions ( 20029 )

01. WHEN WE SENT THE BOYS AWAY

02. ALL THE BEST ( ISN'T IT A LOVELY WAR )

03. SOUTHAMPTON ( WAVE THE BOYS GOODBYE )

04. ON WITH THE SHOW

05. WE'LL BE HOME FOR CHRISTMAS

06. THE BRAVERY OF THE FEW

07. ALL THE KING'S HORSES

08. BRINGING THE BOYS HOME AGAIN

09. NOW THE WAR IS OVER

10. THE FALLEN MEMORIAL HYMNS

11. A SOLDIER'S LAMENT

'All Of Our Days' Sessions ( 2010 )

01. NOT JUST SOMETIMES ( BUT ALL OF THE TIME )

02. IF YOU'RE GOING ( BETTER GO TODAY )

03. FAREWELL & GOODNIGHT

'The September Session' ( 2019 )

01. WHEREVER YOU ARE ( MAX'S SONG )

'On The Outside Looking In' Sessions ( 2022 )

01. ECHO OF YOUR FOOTSTEPS

'All Those Years Between Us' Sessions ( 2023 )

01. YOUNG BOY WITH AN OLD SOUL

'The Saviours & The Songs' Sessions ( 2024 )

01. SWEET NOVEMBER BOY

Compiled October 2024

WHEN WE SENT THE BOYS AWAY

Hurrah, hurrah , for all the sons and the fathers let’s sing them all a happy song Wave them off, wave them off We won’t leave anyone behind If you want to be a hero just come along just come along

Hurrah, hurrah, cheer as we send the boys away let’s sing them all a lovely song Sign up, sign up to fight for Our King and a good day’s pay If you want to be a hero just come along just come along

We’ll take you along we’ll take you along

there’s no need to rush to join our big push Just sign up, just sign up, that’s enough If you’re too young, then just tell a lie It’s a great big adventure and you’re never too young to die

Just sign up, sign up, wave your families goodbye let your mother sing you a last lullaby

Oh, wasn’t it a glorious morning the day we sent the boys away

Oh, wasn’t it a glorious morning the day we sent the boys away

ALL THE BEST ( ISN’T IT A LOVELY WAR )

All the best, all the best, isn’t a lovely war All the best, all the best Isn’t it a joy to have something worth fighting for

Leave this place with grace depart with no regrets All the best, all the best to you Hold your chin up don’t be afraid carry that weight All the best, all the best to you

When the world comes crashing down with a delicate but final sound All the best, all the best to you When you return to this fair land we’ll all still be here we’ll all still be around All the best, all the best to you

We’ll all sleep soundly now we’ve sent you off to fight for us

Our job here is done And it’s all been worth it If it’s been worth It at all

All the best, all the best to you

We wish you well

We wish you well

SOUTHAMPTON ( WAVE THE BOYS GOODBYE )

Oh, let’s all go down to Southampton wave the boys goodbye as they sail away Oh, let’s all go down to Southampton Wave the boys goodbye as we listen to the band play Oh, let’s all go down to Southampton and wave the boys wave all the fine boys good bye

the troops are marching through the town the cheers greet and go up all around drape the banners and give out the gifts bring the crowds out to send off the ships and wave our boys wave all the fine boys good bye

No tears, just big smiles and brave faces as we send our boys off to faraway places Oh, we’ll see them all again Oh, we’ll see them all again in times of brighter days

ON WITH THE SHOW

No one’s sure what this fighting’s all about No one’s sure when they’re sending us out this may be my last letter home For tomorrow it may be On with the show On with the show There’s still such a long way we have to go It’s almost time for the big push now And soon it will be on with the show On with the show

There’ll be no cheers as we run up the trenches No time for those friends we may leave behind No time for the dead or dying Or for ordinary lives For it will just be on with the show On with the show The generals have drawn up their plans And decided where to make their next stand And soon it will be On with the show On with the show

The tolling of the clanging bell will still call the faithful across the seas Far away, and far from home into the middle of a Forgotten field And each of the faithful will fall As once again we go On with the show On with the show

WE’LL BE HOME FOR CHRISTMAS

The generals realised that no one had a clue And there was nothing else to do but sound the retreat A call went up through the smoke right along the frontlines and if we were one of the fortunate few we weren’t left behind

There’s mud on our faces, blood on our hands And still the generals don’t understand Why the line upon the map hasn’t moved at all

Still, if we keep our chins up through it all We’ll be home for Christmas We’ll be home for Christmas

The officers came out just before dawn with the order that the retreat had been withdrawn Against all sane advice and once again it’s us and once again it’s not them What’s a few thousand ordinary lives Of a few thousand ordinary men

There’s mud on our faces, blood on our hands And still the generals don’t understand Why the line upon the map hasn’t moved at all Still, if we keep our chins up through it all We’ll be home for Christmas We’ll be home for Christmas

We’ll be home We’ll be home

THE BRAVERY OF THE FEW

And we, we will salute the bravery of the few the chosen, the fallen and the dead And we, we will salute the bravery of the few those who fell and stood equal until the end

All of the voices, all of the names All of the lost, all of the graves We salute you We salute you All of the missing, all of the fields All of the left behind All of the dreams We salute you We salute you

All of the young, all of the old All of the faithful All of the souls We salute you We salute you All of the songs, all of the faces All of the hymns, all the final resting places We salute you We salute you

We salute you, we salute you the bravery of the few we salute you we salute you the bravery of the few

ALL THE KING’S HORSES

All the king’s horses and all the king’s men will never be able to put all the pieces together again Just ordinary animals and ordinary men Sent into a battle they can never hope to win

All the king’s horses and all the king’s men will never be able to put all the pieces together again up to their knees in mud and the stench of fresh blood stained in a sin they didn’t begin sent into a battle they can never hope to win

Over and over, again and again All the king’s horses and all the king’s men All the king’s horses and all the king’s men

BRINGING THE BOYS HOME AGAIN

Passing away the hours of the day in a very British way Summoning up our daily courage now we’ve sent the boys into the fray Passing away the moments trying our best not to feel alone ignoring the empty spaces in our homes

We try to imagine it’s a fight for the greater good over in those faraway fields We try to imagine it’s a fight for the protection of all our dreams but as it on all drags on it’s getting harder and harder

We’ll carry on, we’ll carry on in the hope of much brighter days We’ll carry on, we’ll carry on in the hope of bringing the boys home again

We’ll go home once again without our loved ones And we’ll wait for better news to reach us that we’ll be bringing the boys home again

We’ll lay our heads on our cold pillows fall asleep in our beds and dream of bringing the boys home again

NOW THE WAR IS OVER

Listen, listen, hear the church bells ring The boys are coming home The boys are coming home once again

Now the war is over, now it’s over

Listen, hear the church bells ring Welcome the lads home Welcome the lads home once again

Now the war is over, now it’s over

Brave faces now and put away all of your many sorrows for the boys are coming home they’re coming home tomorrow It’s a great day for freedom It’s a great day to welcome home our own It’s a great day for the boys to be coming home, to be coming home

Welcome home, welcome home Oh prodigal sons of ours We’re so glad, we’re so glad to see you Welcome home, welcome home Oh prodigal sons of ours We’re so glad, we’re so glad you’re one of the few

Welcome home, welcome home Oh, precious sons of ours Now the war is finally over for you It’s a farewell to arms It’s a farewell to arms for you

Now the war is over, now the war is over

THE FALLEN MEMORIAL HYMNS

Well now, we said, let’s not forget without doubt or any sense of regret We should be willing to give up our lives for all our homes Well now, we said, let’s not forget all we stand for is in peril We should be willing to lay down and die for all our homes And they’ll never forget us they’ll never forget us For it’s a land fit for heroes after all

Well now, they said, we haven’t forgotten you We haven’t forgotten you but awfully sorry we really can’t show how grateful we are to you We’ve still got far bigger problems going on than all of you It’s a damn poor show I’m afraid

Well now, they said, we haven’t forgotten you We haven’t forgotten you but we simply haven’t got a clue what to do with all of you We’ve got no old life no old career no hope at all for you It’s a damn poor show I’m afraid

Well now, they said, we haven’t forgotten you It’s just a jolly good job you were some of the few to get through it all good on you good on you

All we have, all we have are these songs and these hymns for you

All we have, all we have are these songs and these hymns for you

A SOLDIER’S LAMENT

Our friends cheered us in the streets Our families danced and sang And the flags were up at full mast as the church bells rang but all we heard was the falling of the bombs All we saw was the faces of the dead All we felt was their pride their pain to forever remain left unsaid We had left the uniforms behind but in us the soldier would always remain Oh, will they ever Understand at all

Will they visit us in our last breath Will they visit the graves of our lost friends Will they understand the loss the cost of lives Will they stand where the poppies grow so wild Oh, will they ever understand at all

We played our part in the tragedy We let our history unfold We followed our orders We did as we were told Never questioned a thing When we should have questioned it all but after all is said and done and all the songs have been sung We can gain solace in this my friends, that in the end there’ll never be a war such as this again

NOT JUST SOMETIMES ( BUT ALL OF THE TIME )

Oh, these tempers flare in the night we start to shout we start to fight say such things we don’t really mean You and I, we always fight dirty we never fight clean You blame me, I blame you nothing’s agreed upon so nothing’s ever stays the same

And you tell me you’re going to go And you tell me you can’t stay here no more

I need you, I need you beside me Not just some times Not just sometimes but all of the time

Oh, these tempers flare in the night we start to shout we start to fight a clear distant horizon we can never see

You and I , we don’t ever say what we really mean You blame me, I blame you there’s still so many things we can never even say And you tell me you’re going to go And you tell me you can’t stay here no more

I need you, I need you beside me Not just some times Not just sometimes but all of the time

Oh, can’t you see how my lover I’ve never really needed any other Oh, can’t you see how some things should be left in the past

Oh, it doesn’t have to be this way So let’s just take it day by day

Oh, it doesn’t have to be this way So let’s just take it day by day

IF YOU’RE GOING ( BETTER GO TODAY )

We’ll try to forgive and then we’ll try to forget We’ll turn all our memories to the time we first met Your feelings are hurt but so are mine maybe it’s time to put everything on the line

Maybe we can get over it given time there’ll be no more driving us crazy there’ll be no more driving us insane breaking of hearts causing ourselves so much pain Your feelings are hurt but so are mine maybe it’s time to put everything on the line

Forget all the hurt, forget all the pain maybe we just need to try again maybe we just need to try again

gotta let each other go our own ways gotta stop wondering if we’ll find each other again one day

gotta keep our tears inside till we’re gone gotta remember how we tried to keep our love going strong

If you’re going better go today If you’re going better go today

FAREWELL & GOODNIGHT

Looking for all the things I left behind looking for all the things I can no longer find looking for memories long since denied looking for the ghosts always at my side We came to the end of our long road You and I, decided to say it was time for us to say good bye now we’ve parted and gone our separate ways the nights seem longer yet so do the days

I know I’ll miss you for a while to come but when is all said and done I know it was no good us holding on for we could both see our love had long since gone

So farewell and goodnight, my love Farewell and good night Farewell and goodnight, my love Farewell my love

Farewell my love, now our sweet, sweet song is Over

WHEREVER YOU ARE ( Max’s Song)

You belong where the sun is always so warm You belong where the waters always gleam You belong among the long grass free to always dream your dreams

Wherever you are now Wherever you go now I’ll always be with you

You belong where the days are always peaceful You belong where the fields are always green You belong where the hills always look to the shining sea

Wherever you are now Wherever you go now I’ll always be with you

You belong where the land is always wide open You belong where the sky is always so blue You belong where you are always free in every thing you do

Wherever you are now Wherever you go now I’ll always be with you

Well, we had such glory days, you and I Yeah, we had such a blast But no matter how much we savoured the moments they always went by too fast but I’ll never forget all the good times we had Yeah, you and I you and I my friend

I was dreaming of you you were running oh, so free and every time I dream I dream of you and me doing all those things we used to do so very well

Wherever you are now Wherever you go now I’ll always be with you

Wherever you are now Wherever you go now I’ll always be with you

For my brother, my Friend

ECHO OF YOUR FOOTSTEPS

I hear the echo of your footsteps always within my shadow my whole life through I came into the world and you were there

And I knew you somehow I knew you

I hear the echo of your footsteps my constant companion always with me never leaving me, you are always here

And I know you somehow I know you

And every moment missed is something past each second of a day is gone so fast I guess not everything in life is really meant to last but still I hear the echo of your foot steps

And I hear the echo of your footsteps in my dreams walking beside me in everlasting fields And I hear the whisper of your voice, though in all my days I have never seen you

YOUNG BOY WITH AN OLD SOUL

The times are passing by with the turns of many pages a wisdom grows in your heart through all of life’s stages

Wise in your ways wise beyond your years yeah, I’m sure you’ve been here before

You’re such an old soul You’re such an old soul feels like you’ve already seen and done it all

The days are going by with the story still being written a wisdom grows in your eyes taking in all we’re given

Wise in your sayings wise in all your words yeah, I know you’ve been here before

You’re such an old soul You’re such an old soul feels like you’ve already seen and done it all

The road your on is long so throw off all your shackles grab each moment by the scruff of the neck make it shake and make it rattle kick down all the doors if life ever dares hold you back

You’re a young boy with an old soul You’re a young boy with an old soul

You’re such an old soul

You’re such an old soul

For Jayden, in a life that’s forever changing about You

SWEET NOVEMBER BOY

Well, hey now, sweet November boy you can carry your dreams from the streets to the stars Well, hey now, sweet November boy gathering up your wisdom and collecting your scars

Now don’t you ever let this world tear you down spark the electric light at the heart of the storm

13 & counting, carry all what you know as you feel yourself grow 13 & counting, always best foot forward in this big ol’ journey you’re on

Well, hey now, sweet November boy stepping up and being brave seizing each and every day Well, hey now, sweet November boy digging your feet in and staking your claim

Now don’t ever let this world tell how to stand catch every fleeting moment in the palm of your hand

13 & counting, try to walk as tall as you can as you figure yourself out 13 & counting, fly your flag hold your head high let them all know your name

And if we dream too much of days without rain we may forget the beauty of the light when it comes after the grey And as time keeps moving along like the rest of us you’ll be figuring it all out day after day, different words, different song

And up the road you’ll find your own trail And up the road you’ll find your own way

Sweet November boy you’ll find your own trail

Sweet November boy you’ll find your own way

For Jayden, 13 years & counting on this road called life

[rosecartridge]

What tragic horror trope are you?

the witch

people need to find blame wherever they can; it makes the bad things in their life feel just a touch more bearable. the witches are so often blamed for the curses others are under that no one even questions it anymore. you point to a supposed witch and everyone else prepares the stake, no matter their innocence. to be born and believed a witch is one of the worst curses of them all- you can have friends and family, but there's always a dread that someday, someone will point to you, and everyone you once trusted will throw you into the pyre. if you're here, reading this, you've probably been burned before. and i don't blame you for wanting to hide away, to really become the witch they all say you are, to curse them. but to be a witch is to brush your fingertips over the bark of a tree and watch it grow a touch stronger. keep that in mind.

the werewolf

there's something inside a werewolf that's sharp, thorns and barbs coiling up in tight knots of vine even on their best days. halfway through a conversation, you'll forget your happiness and the pain comes back in a flash. you never meant to, but the sharpness has done harm on your behalf. it's defensive. it's leftover artillery from a battle you spent so long fighting that it still doesn't feel like it's truly over, does it? you want so badly to be soft. to take the hand that you are offered instead of baring your teeth. and it might be hard to believe, but you are soft. you're the softest one out there. it'll just take a while to untangle those vines enough to know that very little is often life-or-death, and not everything touches to hurt.

frankenstein's monster

this plight is the simplest of them all: you did not ask for this. you were never given a choice. no part of yourself feels human, just a collection of traits you've picked up from mirroring anyone you could, even the people you meet through a television screen. it's alienating to live that way- yet someone has called you the alienating one. maybe too many people to count. maybe they treated you so uncomfortably inhuman that it's all you can understand now, or you've dug yourself into such a deep hole in an attempt to keep safe that you can't remember a person living in the home of your body at all. being alive is confusing and painful and lonely and loud but living is all there is to being human- you're already there. just take air into your lungs and breathe. close your eyes and picture a beautiful sky. you made that. you painted that yourself.

the mummy

here's the thing about mummies- why the hell is anyone opening up their tombs? you were resting. you were peaceful. but someone intruded, barged in and broke down your walls and stole all the parts of yourself that you cherished, and then blamed you for being angry. blamed you for chasing them down no matter how fast they ran and how many obstacles they put in your path. and you know what? they deserve your rage. they destroyed something sacred. they didn't give a shit, and they wouldn't ever have lamented their actions had it not been for you- the real hero- getting up and showing them that they don't have the right to destroy and pillage as they please. that is your home. that is your body. nothing they do can take that from you. if not for you, they probably would've kept breaking into tombs and disturbing restful lives without a second thought. you won't be repayed for your good, but i hope you know you are a saviour in your own right.

[sulkybbarnes]

The problem is that fandom takes canon Laurent's idealised version of Auguste as reality, when in fact Auguste the saintly protector and golden brother is the manifestation of a scared traumatised child's dreams. Laurent didn't think himself good or kind or heroic or even deserving of saving. Laurent as an abused child is soaked in shame and guilt, so every good and innocent trait in Laurent himself had to be assigned to someone else. Laurent as a child cannot save himself and he canno love himself either. So all the saviour traits and the Dream of being saved and rescued, of being worthy of it, is assigned to his saintly dead older brother.

Grief and trauma shape people and relationships and families. We don't know canon Auguste. We know the void he left behind, which Laurent filled with everything he needed and was and couldn't be. Had canon Auguste lived, Laurent would have resented and loved him the way he does in EIAT. In EIAT, Laurent and Auguste are each traumatised by the same events in vastly different ways. And it is a product of deep love that they stay together and bicker about it and resent and argue and love each other. It is less painful for both of them to just walk away, but the staying is a product of love. Love prevents the comfort of trying to forget. Like do you understand that they're both the only people in the world who were in on this terrible secret? And they both choose to be with the living reminder of all the guilt and pain it entails. That is the love and complexity in sibling relationships and it is very realistic.

The Auguste in canon is a storybook hero that never existed, although he serves his purpose beautifully to have Laurent interact with the innocence and childhood he lost, and to confront the magnitude and ugliness of what was done to Laurent. Abused children think they are evil and deserve abuse and shame. And so, Laurent needed a place to put all the goodness and innocence in him, because he didn't believe he was any good. Do you understand that canon Auguste is the dream Laurent has where he, Laurent, is fucking worthy of being saved?! Canon Auguste is the only allowance Laurent makes for his own kindness and innocence. Laurent puts all his love and hope and need in the image of his dead brother, because Laurent himself is dirty and cannot be any of these things, naturally. So they go to Auguste. Canon Auguste isn't Auguste as much as it is the remnants of Laurent's childhood shaped into the image of a saviour.

And that is why the Regent uses Auguste against him and tries to soil Laurent's love with accusations of incest. Because Laurent even entertaining that he deserves to be saved is dangerous to the Regent. So that kindling of hope is smothered with shame and made dirty too.

The Auguste in EIAT is human and realistic and alive for Laurent to love and resent. He is a person trying his best for his brother, but the difference is that when alive, his shortcomings are real too. He is still a reflection of Laurent's self and an idealised older brother who couldn't protect Laurent anyway. So then he is just there to bear the brunt of Laurent's loathing and grief -the way Laurent bears it himself. I think people need to factor into their reading how trauma shapes lives and families and relationships. And remember that narration is subjective. If you want a real story, then you have to contend with real, messy emotions. Love is complicated. And love despite complication is a far potent and stronger type than an imaginary love assigned to a perfect person. EIAT Auguste is not perfect, but he is loved anyway. And that should tell you all you need to know about his relationship with Laurent.

I'm sad that Auguste is just a failure of a brother :(

But I do love your writing and story.

Ah it makes me kind of sad that you think so! Because I didn't intend to write him as "just a failure of a brother" at all :((

Like memes/jokes aside, I've done my best to explain my reasoning behind writing Auguste as he is in even in another time here and here. I did these answers around halfway through posting, so I deliberately didn't talk about what happens in later chapters, however the explanations are still relevant!

Auguste's near-constant presence in Laurent's narration is sort of the whole point: Laurent loves him so much, despite the complexities of their adult relationship, and that is why he struggles so much with the choice he has to make. Remember that any bitterness/disdain/resentment that comes through in the narration is tinted by Laurent's trauma, and also his own internalised guilt, and the inner conflict he is working through -- his views and reflections cannot be taken objectively. Similarly, Auguste's perception of things can't be taken objectively either! He is also working through grief and guilt, and a trauma of his own kind. (And part of the conflict for Laurent is, of course, recognising this while also resenting it to an extent)

I put a lot of thought and work into making Auguste a dimensional and layered character grounded in realism, in the way he simply cannot be in the books because he exists there as only a rosy memory. I hope that this more human version of him is lovable and sympathetic, because I certainly love and sympathise with him! And of course, Laurent does as well <3

Thank you so much for reading, and I'm so glad that you're enjoying my writing and the story! I hope this reply doesn't come across as a lecture, and it isn't entirely directed at you, anon -- I've had quite a few comments in general about Auguste being a bad brother or being disappointing, and I'm honestly a little confused by it because that isn't how I think he is written at all hahaha

Anyway! Chapter 31 today! Almost the end can you believe 🫨🫨🫨

[gracesimp]

Falling

tenth doctor x fem!reader

SUMMARY: reader needs a helping hand. The Doctor offers her one.

fluff tbh

i wrote this with ten in mind, but honestly it could be read as any except 13.

WARNING. deals with serious mental health topics, such as depression.

Sometimes I feel like I'm falling. Time around me slows and my arms flail around helplessly. My mouth is open wide as I scream so hard my throat burns, but no sound can be heard. I've been falling for so long that I begin to lose hope. I wonder, what will happen when I reach the bottom? Will I land on my back and become paralysed, unable to move, unable to feel? Will I just become a shell of the person I used to be? Or maybe I'll land on my feet. But still stuck. Trapped at the bottom of an endless abyss with only the darkness to keep me company.

Which would be worse?

I'm not sure.

I felt myself nearing to the end. I used to feel scared, but I think I made peace with my impending doom. But then, a few months ago, I met a man. Honestly, I still believe he's an angel in man form. He constantly tries to assure me he is far from it, though I'll never believe him. After all, how can my saviour, my hero, be anything other than a good man?

His name, or title, really, is ironic. A title he shares with us because his real name is too powerful to be spoken. And this man is The Doctor.

When I met him, and he whisked me away in his little blue box, I started seeing a light. I no longer felt like I was falling. Don't get me wrong, I was still a long while away from reaching the top, though now I was suspended in the air, bright light peering through, guiding me upwards. My legs would kick and my arms would punch, this time with motive. I was swimming back up to the surface.

And I could feel him waiting. Often now I could imagine his smile as he greeted me, the hand he'd offer as he'd lower me onto the ground. Life would have colour again. All in aid of him.

"Y/n," He'd whisper and I'd just look at him as though he'd hung the moon and stars, just for me. "Welcome home."

I stir in bed when I heard my name being called. I blink, then squint as my eyes adjust to the influx of light. I want to press my head back into the pillow, condemning all of the brightness that bids me goodmorning, but before I can, I feel a hand on my duvet covered hip. The Doctor.

I look up, and he smiles so kindly. "Morning," he says, and I smile in response. He places a cup of tea on the table beside me, then asks softly if I'm going to get up, if I'm going to shower. I nod, saving my breath as my energy gradually heightens.

He exhales softly. He doesn't prod for more answers, he never forces me to move. He allows me to take things at my own pace. And I'm eternally grateful.

His hand makes contact with my face, and he begins to brush away strands of hair that shield my eyes. I just blink up at him, trying my best to speak through body, rather than words. He stares back, and I may be deluded to assume we are both having a conversation in touch, rather than I speaking alone.

After a few seconds pass, he tells me to budge up, so I do. I make room for him in my bed, and he slips in next to me, the mattress creaking as he drops his weight, alongside the duvet wrinkling when he wraps it comfortably around the two of us.

"My Doctor." I mutter as I snuggle into him.

He looks my way, going back to stroking my hair before he responds. "You shouldn't call me that, you know?"

I just blink back absently, waiting for further explanation.

"I chose this name as a promise. Never had to put it into practice before. I don't think I make a very good doctor. Maybe you shouldn't be relying on me to act as yours."

At this, I frown. "How could I think of you as anything but?" I ask, sincerely. "You're too hard on yourself. Every day you fulfill the promise you made. You can't save everyone, Doctor," I tell him, knowing his mind often hovers on the fates of former companions. "But you saved me."

His eyes meet mine once again, and a smile takes over his face. "Yeah?"

Without so much as a second thought, I confirm. "Yes."

He just smiles wider, then leans down and kisses my forehead, forcing me to smile back in return. His hand trails down under the cover until it finds mine, and he laces our fingers together.

"I think you've saved me just as much as I saved you." He speaks.

I rub my thumb on the back of his hand and whisper:

"My doctor."

[save-the-villainous-cat]

I saw this one ship dynamic post on my recommendations and wondered what it would be like in your writing

The ship dynamic is "villain who is redeemed because of the hero and hero who is slowly going towards the path the villain just got out of"

Most days were filled with the common threat of dying at every corner, so it was something completely new to the villain to relax, actually.

Sitting next to the hero on the rooftops kept their mind clear. The villain felt freed, as if an evil demon had been pushed out of their body. Not only their body had cleansed, no, their whole life was brighter. They found value in helping people. They found peace with guilt and regret.

They were truly healing. With the only person they had ever been comfortable with.

“I could get used to this,” they said as the sun started to kiss the horizon. As the sky dipped into shades of orange and red, the villain felt like the things they did finally mattered to people. It made them smile instead of cry.

The hero laughed at that, looking down at the city.

“Oh yeah, me too. This view would be great from a penthouse.” The villain gazed at them, smiling. The lights hit the hero perfectly. It made them shine like the sun they were. As if they were carved out of stone. The perfect saviour.

“I truly want to thank you for what you’ve done. You’ve saved me,” the villain admitted. They weren’t a monster anymore and hell, it felt good to be cheered at. They wanted this to last forever, they’d do everything to protect the people who accepted them, those who had given them a second chance.

“Oh, no need to thank me! I enjoyed doing that.” The silence stretched between them and it was — astoundingly— comfortable.

“I heard the supervillain confessed?” the villain asked finally. No one had ever managed to make the supervillain talk about their plans. But the hero had done it after years. After countless arrests. They were undeniably someone really special.

“Yes, it was actually a lot of fun, ten minutes in and they started to sing like a songbird.” The hero chuckled and the villain had to smile too. It was just too contagious. “You just have to say the right things and give them the right motivation, you know?”

“I don’t think I’m ready for questioning anyone yet. I mean, I’ve worked with most of these guys, punching is easy but talking…” The villain sighed.

“It doesn’t take that much talking, actually. Actions speak louder.” They sounded amused.

“What do you mean?” The villain still smiled at them. Their nemesis could be adorable. But the hero’s smile didn’t quite reach their eyes. The villain ignored that gladly.

“Oh, you know what I mean!” they answered, still grinning wildly. It was the same smile they gave the cameras. At some point the villain had thought this smile to be fake but it was the same smile the hero gave away when they were talking privately.

“Fine, I’ll figure out all your secrets anyway,” the villain joked. Their hero laughed at that.

“Let’s hope not.”

Months later, the villain did find out about all the secrets. They wished they never had.

[arc-misadventures]

Truth Defined

The Knight, and the Amazon lay in a pile of rubble, each slowly picking themselves up as the blew away clouds of dust away from them. The, White Famg had prepared one hell of a bomb to take out the Atlas delegation. No doubt figuring out they would never get the bomb close enough to kill them, they would just have to make the bomb strong enough to level most of the building, and the surrounding block in the process.

But, they had stopped it! By taking it as far away from the building as possible because they couldn’t disarm, a tamper proof bomb. So they took it to an empty construction site, and let it go off there.

Unfortunately they had been caught in the blast, but things could be worse, no?

Jaune: Ow…

Pyrrha: That was… something…

Jaune: That’s putting it lightly…

Pyrrha: But, we made it out okay in the end! All is well in the world!

Jaune: Pyrrha…

Pyrrha: Yes, Jaune?

Jaune: My arm is broken.

Pyrrha: What?!

Jaune: Yep… That blast sent me flying back, shattering my arm when I hit the wall…

Pyrrha: But, you’re aura! It should have protected you!

Jaune: It did… mostly, hold on, I can still revamp my aura… That should fix it…

A golden light soon enveloped, Jaune as his aura slowly recharged. Mending his bruised body before concentrating on his broken arm with a…

“SNAP! CRACK!!”

Jaune: …

Pyrrha: ?!

Jaune: ow…!!!

Pyrrha: Y-You okay, Jaune…?

Jaune: Yeah… Yeah! I’m okay! Oww…

Pyrrha: Good… S-Sorry I didn’t throw that thing away sooner.

Jaune: Honestly, I know you’re strong, but that thing was heavy! I’m amazed we even got it down here, let alone the fact you managed to throw it with your lasso.

Pyrrha: Speaking of: Where is it? I let go of it, when the bomb went off…

Jaune: Lets go find it then…

Pyrrha: Sure, just give me a moment… Ahh… Oh that’s gonna leave a mark…

Jaune: Need a refill?

Pyrrha: Yes, please!

Jaune: Hehe… Okay, one refill coming right up.

Jaune, made his way over to his bruised, and battered partner, gently placing his hand on her shoulder before flooding her with his golden aura. Her red aura shinned upon contact as she gave a soft and contempt sigh as she fell her aches, and pains wash away.

Pyrrha: Haa… That’s the stuff… Thanks, Jaune.

Jaune: No problem, now lets find your lasso, and head back to base.

Pyrrha: Any idea why no one told us about the, Atlas delegates?

Jaune: Ozpin, probably thought it would be for the best if it remained a secret.

Pyrrha: And, why is that?

Jaune: Safety of the dignitaries; The less people that know they’re here, the safer they’ll be, or should be that is…

Pyrrha: Must people hide everything in secrets?

Jaune: Yes.

Pyrrha: And, why is that; Can’t people be honest with one another?

Jaune: Well… The way I see it, there are three types of secrets: Good, Bad, and Grey secrets.

Pyrrha: Three types of secrets? That’s an uncomfortable thought.

Jaune: Yeah it is… The good secrets we keep to help another, the bad secrets we hurt another with. Then there are the grey secrets.

Pyrrha: The ones that can both hurt the person, but are kept from them for they own good.

Jaune: True, but I mostly see them as the secrets you don’t want to tell anyone about. Mostly because your scared how… Oh, found it. Anywho, I mostly keep my secrets to myself because I’m scared what might happen if I told anyone about them.

Pyrrha: You have secrets like that?

Jaune: Of course I do, who doesn’t?

Pyrrha: Fair. But, I bet you’ve got some juicy secrets.

Jaune: Ehhh… Depends on who you ask.

Pyrrha: Oh, like what: Hidden diary, secret cash stash, secret lover?!

Jaune: Nothing like that, my greatest secret is that I’m hopelessly in love with you, Pyrrha.

Pyrrha: Eh?!

Jaune: But, nothing will come up with that… I mean… I’m just some kid pretending he is a knight playing about like he is also a hero. Then there’s you, Pyrrha Nikos, Amazonian Princess. Saviour of Mistral, and a bunch of other stuff. You’re loved, and are famous the world over! And, I’m just… I’m just me… What possible chance do I have of getting with someone as fantastic as you, Pyrrha? Sure we’re good teammates, and all, but is that really the basis of any long lasting relationship? No, no its not. I want to love you openly, and smother you in love, and affection, but I’m not good enough for you… You can do so better than me. So, I’ve got to try, and become better than I already am, but at this rate… I guess, I’ll just keep this secret to myself, and maybe one day, I’ll feel like I’m worthy enough to tell you how I feel. The tell you I love you, Pyrrha, with all my heart. But sadly today… Is not that day…

Jaune finished talking when he took a glance at his partner to see her staring with the slackest of jaws, and the reddest of faces, as she tried to say something, but all that came out was a stuttering mess. Jaune looked at her perplexed for a moment when like lightning realization flashed before his eyes. He stared at, Pyrrha with a blank expression before he looked down at his hand, and saw a golden light from, Pyrrha’s golden lasso, held tightly in his hand.

Jaune: …

Pyrrha: …

Jaune: Ah ha… The… The Lasso of Truth… I-I thought you needed to have it wrapped around you… not… not holding it… D-Does this happen often…?

Pyrrha: N-Now a-and then…

Jaune: D-Do you by chance have something… something to top this…?!

Pyrrha: N-No… No I don’t…

Jaune: Oh… Okay… shit…

Pyrrha: S-Sorry…?

Jaune: …

Pyrrha: …

Jaune: L-Let’s get going!

Pyrrha: YES! W-We’re need to tell the others… stuff… Stuff about the mission…

Jaune: But, not this part!

Pyrrha: Not this part!

Jaune: Yeah! Haha ha ha…

Pyrrha: Ha haa…

Jaune: …

Pyrrha: …

Jaune: Let’s just go already…

Pyrrha: Yeah…

///

Pyrrha Nikos is Wonder Woman!

I was going to mention that at the beginning, but I thought that would spoil the surprise.

Just wanted to explore the idea that the, Lasso of Truth accidentally making you make an impromptu love confession. Thought it would be an interesting idea.

[arklay]

tagged by @florbelles @denerims @jillvalcntines @jendoe @leviiackrman @aceghosts @indorilnerevarine @swordcoasts @nuclearstorms & @morvaris to do this quiz for some of my ocs, so have the horror girlies – thank you all so so much ily guys! ♡

tagging: @aartyom @aelyosos @brujah @cultistbase @faarkas @girlbosselrond @lightwardens @liurnia @narshadda @nocticulas @prometheas @reaperkiller @risingsh0t @shadowsofrose @snowthroat @solasan @steelport @stormveils @voerman & you! if you've already done this, my bad, just ignore me. but as always, no pressure to do this, of course! ♡

TRAGIC HORROR TROPES.

— the final girl.

the final girl comes out the other end of trauma alive – or, they were supposed to. honestly, you're not so sure you're really alive anymore. you saw the same hurt take those you were closest to while everyone paraded your bruises and bravery, as strength, as if you're the hero. and it hurts. you're tired and you don't want to have to be brave anymore. whatever you went through, it changed so much of who you were that you're still getting used to the person you see in the mirror. you didn't have a say in any of it, but you're here now, and that's gotta count for something. you'll make it count for something. but first, you need to let yourself find rest.

— the witch.

people need to find blame wherever they can; it makes the bad things in their life feel just a touch more bearable. the witches are so often blamed for the curses others are under that no one even questions it anymore. you point to a supposed witch and everyone else prepares the stake, no matter their innocent. to be born and believed a witch is one of the worst curses of them all – you can have friends and family, but there's always a dread that someday, someone will point to you, and everyone you once trusted will throw you into the pyre. if you're here, reading this, you've probably been burned before. and i don't blame you for wanting to hide away, to really become the witch they all say you are, to curse them. but to be a witch is to brush your fingertips over the bark of a tree and watch it grow a touch stronger. keep that in mind.

— the vampire.

it is the loneliest day of a vampire's life, the first time they look into a mirror and see their reflection missing. drinking blood sucks too, don't get me wrong, but as a vampire you had to learn to hide from the sunlight, from your family, all your friends, because you were unavoidably different now and you didn't know how to explain that to them in a way they would understand. you could get stranger's blood in bursts, but what is life when you can't know someone for longer than the night lasts? you left everything behind because it was easier than trying to tell them. i just hope you know you're not the only vampire out there, and that there exist people who will understand your situation without a word. they'll sit with you in the dark for as long as you'll need them to.

— the mummy.

here's the thing about mummies – why the hell is anyone opening up their tombs? you were resting. you were peaceful. but someone intruded, barged in and broke down your walls and stole all the parts of yourself that you cherished, and then blamed you for being angry. blamed you for chasing them down no matter how fast they ran and how many obstacles they put in your path. and you know what? they deserve your rage. they destroyed something sacred. they didn't give a shit, and they wouldn't ever have lamented their actions had it not been for you – the real hero – getting up and showing them that they don't have the right to destroy and pillage as they please. that is your home. that is your body. nothing they do can take that from you. if not for you, they probably would've kept breaking into tombs and disturbing restful lives without a second thought. you won't be repaid for your good, but i hope you know you are a saviour in your own right.

[mrpenguinpants]

Spider’s Thread [Reverse AU]

Possessive Red Xiao x Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Commissioned for: @profoundwitchsalad

Art Credit: @ruoyeahs

Warning: Unhealthy relationships.

Prompt:

“You’ve ruined my life because I have a warped idea of what love is and I can’t live without you. But now you’re trying to leave me and I won’t allow that. You left me alive. You have a duty to live for me and by me. I’m not letting you go.”

---

Xiao Semi Series

[ Friendship ] [ Falling in Love ] [ Cuddles ] [ Protective ] [ Affection ] [ Jealously ] [ Opposites Attract ] [ String Of Fate (Soulmate) ] [ Fainting ]

Link to original posts:  [Red! Xiao.] [Reverse AU]

[Masterlist]

Alatus was once told a story by his Master. A sinner who falls into hell is rewarded for his only good deed, choosing not to kill a spider. As his reward, a thread is lowered down for him to climb out of Hell. In the end, the sinner remains in Hell because he kicks aside others and the thread breaks. Alatus doesn't remember why his Master told him this story but he still empathizes with the sinner. He would have done the same or asked for this 'saviour' to extend their hand down instead. That way he could pull them down.

"Xiao? Are you okay?"

He slowly opens his jade eyes to see you hunch over, peering down above him, eyebrows furrowed together in concern as you reach down and softly tap his temple. He allows you to take a moment to do whatever you want with his face before he reaches up to grasp at your wrist gently, holding back on his want to rub circles into your skin. His reminiscing can wait for now.

"What is it?" he asks curtly, sitting up and resting his elbow on his raised knee. You pout at his curt tone but shrug it off as you take a seat next to him and lean your shoulder against his. You dig into your bag and pull out slips of commission papers and hand it over to him to read through what needed to be done today. A few Hilichurl camps needed to be taken care of, sabotaging a slime balloon, all tasks that seem mundane to someone who fought in a war. As he's preoccupied, you take a moment to look at Xiao's face. He's just the slightest bit unnerved whenever you do this because you always seem to know what's bothering someone.

"Were you dreaming of her again?" you ask quietly. The silence is a good enough answer but you nod understandingly. You never knew his Master personally but you did fight a long strenuous battle against her. From one look you could tell she was a manipulative and cruel woman. While it may not be very kind to say, you were glad that with her passing, Xiao would be free from her physically. But mentally...there were still some things to work out. But Xiao was a very reclusive person, especially with his emotions, so pushing him any further would only make him irritated and closed off.

"Venti and Zhongli are joining our party for a bit if that’s alright. They'll help out a lot with our commissions and travelling. I like Liyue a lot but climbing mountains stresses my shoulders out," you laugh as you change the subject to something less depressing. Standing up as you dust your clothes off before turning to Xiao and holding your hand out for him to take. He stares at it hard for a few moments before huffing and reaching over to clasp your hands together.

It has been so frustratingly peaceful since the war ended. He's not used to it and he can still feel the lick of cutting winds and the heavy pressure of rocks against his body when he sees the bard and funeral parlor consultant just on the horizon. If it were up to him, he wouldn't play nice with these two Archons but they're important to you so he bites his tongue until he tastes blood. He knows the Archons do the same. As soon as the two of them spot you both, Venti is already rushing and tackling you to the ground in his excitement.

"Traveler! I haven't seen you in ages. You need to come and visit Mondstadt more," Venti cried into your shoulder as you awkwardly patted him on his back. Always with the dramatics but you cared about Venti all the same. Xiao scoffed before flicking his jade eyes to meet gold as Zhongli stared down at him cautiously. Since the war ended, everyone seemed to have this warped idea that Alatus had some vendetta against the Gods and Celestia but he was fighting because he was told to.

"Xiao. It's good to see you again," Zhongli said to him. Xiao just nodded in acknowledgement. Even with this new mortal form, Morax never bothered to change his eyes. His gaze alone held the weight of the mountains he had thrown. If Xiao hadn’t been under one of them before, he might have crumbled under the pressure.

"Alright alright, Venti. I promise I'll drop by sometime this month but we still have commissions to do!" you laugh as you haul the bard onto his feet and swat his cape down from the speckles of dirt. He grins cheekily at you, linking pinkies with you to seal your promise, before suddenly lighting up as if he just remembered something.

"Actually! Before we start anything, I need to speak to Mr. Zhongli and Xiao. Super important archon things, you know?" Venti nodded to himself as the two mentioned people stared at him with varying levels of confusion. But Venti just waved their worries off and linked his arms with both men as he dragged them off to a more secluded corner with a surprising amount of strength, “We’ll be right back!”

"Do what you need to do but don't take too long," you called after the trio as you trailed off to the side, messing with your bag of commission papers and gear. Xiao hated that. He knows that these two Archons are your...friends.. but shouldn't you be a bit more cautious? Just because they have mortal forms doesn’t make them human, it doesn’t make him human either.

"Hey, there's no need to look so scary. There really is something important I wanted to talk to the two of you about," Venti speaks up as soon as you're out of earshot. It still gives Xiao whiplash whenever he drops the persona and switches back to Barbatos. "Since Morax is the only Archon I trust with this information and, while I don't trust you one bit, you're the one that's with her all the time you should also know. She's ascending to Celestia."

Barbatos gauges both of their reactions. Morax seems visibly surprised, his eyes slightly widened a fraction, while Xiao has no idea what that means. His Master didn’t exactly give him a history lesson on Celestia or Archons, just pointed to who was his enemy and dealt punishments when he failed.

"And what the hell does that mean?" Xiao asks as he crosses his arms. Venti appears for a second as the bard pouts before continuing.

"It's like I said. A mortal who performs great, heroic feats can ascend to Celestia and achieve godhood. Where they will watch over their people from above. I've only seen this once before so it took me a while to recognize the signs. But 1000 years ago, I helped a woman named Vennessa with her ascension and with the traveler's recent actions with winning the war. Well, you don't need me to explain the rest," Barbatos finishes. Zhongli simply hums as he cups his chin and absorbs what's just been heard. He doesn’t seem troubled by the news at all.

"Have you told her about this?" Zhongli questions as he looks towards the direction that you left. Venti shakes his head. “That would mean that she would vanish from this world."

“I know she loves this world. Whether she wishes to ascend or not isn’t my choice but I want her to continue her travels with that beloved smile on her face. But if she does choose to ascend, she will need our help," Venti stares at the two of them in a mix of pride, sadness, and determination. "Can I count on you two for your help?"

It's a complete white noise in Xiao's ears as his surroundings fade out. He thinks he can see Zhongli nod to Venti wishes, the ever calm smile on his face to match the cheery grin on Venti’s. What, now you want to become a God? Leave this world behind? That’s not funny. You made him give up everything. While in your eyes, your blinded hero syndrome, you think you've liberated him from a soulless conquest but he still has nothing. You still took everything away from him and your only compensation was to have him by your side until he left himself. But now you want to leave without a warning? That’s not fair. You don’t get to take back what you owe. He won't allow you to leave him behind.

“Did something happen? Did Venti say something unnecessary again?” you ask out of the blue. Zhongli and Venti had returned to their respective regions once your commissions were all finished. Since the three of them disappeared to talk Archon business, Xiao had seemed even more tense and aloof than usual. As if he was out of it? You knew that everyone was still suspicious of Xiao and they were angsty to leave you alone with him, but you knew Xiao would never do anything to hurt you. When he doesn't answer, you slowly reach over and you subtly nudge his head up onto your lap and look at him curiously. Before reaching down and cupping his cheek. He leans into your touch before turning his face into your palm and leaving a soft kiss. It makes you giggle at the ticklish feeling as you look at him so softly. It annoys him.

"You were never connected to the war and yet you fought against us anyways. Even when I killed so many people, why did you choose to spare me?" he asked as you blinked at him before giving it some serious thought. He went on a rampage and almost destroyed the world. It was fun. He doesn't have any regrets at all because he hated humanity. His own Master was human after all. But then you appeared and stopped him. A random outsider that wanted to play the hero. He thought it was cute. Perhaps he had underestimated the lengths someone would go to to save the world they loved but when he fell defeated at your feet. He said that this wouldn't change a single thing. He would still scorn humanity and what they did to him. He was so sure he would die there but you chose to extend your hand down to him instead despite what your companions felt. Even when the war ended and he had nowhere else to go, you offered him to travel with you. Nothing changed about his mentality, every person that chose to talk to him was quickly scared away with piercing eyes. Every conversation started would end in silence. Every touch would be met by the tip of his spear. But you would link your hands together with his and smile brightly, and he would always end up forgetting his trauma for a moment. You’ve... become precious to him.

"I love this world and everyone in it. You are a part of that world even if you tried to destroy it. It...didn't seem fair to leave you behind when you've suffered just as much," you finish but it only seemed to spark a wave of deep anger inside of Xiao. He quickly lurched up, almost knocking your forehead with his, before grabbing the scruff of your shirt collar and yanking you forward.

"Cut it out with that "love of everything" crap. It's revolting. So you're saying the people I killed weren't worth avenging? Do you think I'm so weak that I need protection? It's one thing to try and please everyone but at least have some awareness would you?" he snarled as he pushed you to the ground. He knew he was being harsh on you and you had every right to walk out and abandon him but you didn't. Of course, you wouldn't. You needed him as much as he needed you. You just reached over and tenderly reached your hand and placed it next to his. Damn it, why is he always the one stuck worrying about you.

"Then you want to protect me, right? Then don't break your promise. You left me alive which means you have a duty to live for me," he takes your hand in his and squeezes hard. Digging his nails into your own until crescents appear and tiny specks of blood appear so you know he's serious. He doesn't care how you interpret his words, just so long as you never leave him.

"Don't die on me, Hero."

It's been a few hours since the conversation so it's pitch black outside but Xiao was never one to sleep. Even if he could, his mind is too loud to fall asleep too. He's startled when you melt against him fully asleep. Honey smooth as you curl up to his warmth and cling to him like moss to a rock. He can feel his cheeks start to flush as his heart begins to pound against his chest. He can't breathe as his world is filtered through each beat that drums against his ears. He's not sure if there's actually something wrong with him or if it's just been a while since someone got so close and his instincts haven't left.

He's just realized it. He's feeling pain. The feeling in his chest is black but he can't claw it away. It's strange in a way that he can't explain it, that he's never felt before, that he's never felt the need to experience. His life had been warped by battle and a constant push to submit to his Master. They are all things he knows but the gentle words that come from your mouth, the bright eyes that hold the world, the horrible ice-hot feeling inside of him is so foreign yet too easy. He doesn't like it.

It makes him feel...clean in a way. Enlightened perhaps? His Master is long gone and it's like you said. He's free now. Free to make his own decisions and live his life how he wants to. He carefully turns over so as to not startle you away as he really looks at you. You look so peaceful in his arms, eyelids shut without worry, face slack without nightmares, breathing so softly against him. If you weren't so close to him that he couldn't feel the rise of your chest, he wonders if he would think you were dead. He stares at the lock of hair swaying back and forth with each breath like a starved man. The strange feeling doesn't stop. He hates it. It's everything that goes against him and what he knows and everything he should want. He's supposed to be the villain in your story, he should kill you right now-

"Xiao..." he hears you mumble beside him as you lean further into his arm. Damn it. How low is he going to go?

“What are you thinking about now? You just need to think about me. Don’t think about anything else...but me” Xiao sighs before he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into him until you're snug against his chest. Close to him, where he can touch you, where you belong. Not with Morax or Barbatos. Not with humans but beside him. He closes his eyes and nuzzles his head into your hair and he stares off into the distance. The feeling never leaves him for the remainder of the night.

"Ah! There you are. I was running around crazy looking for you," he turns his hair to see your flushed form pulling yourself up onto the mountain cliff, "When I woke up I couldn’t find you anywhere! You gave me a scare there."

He hates you. He hates you.

Words of his previous master ring in his ears, almost as if her very soul is wrapping around him as she whispers in his ear how weak he is. Ones with power that refuse to take what they want because they rather live in the comfort of nothing. Be greedier, take what belongs to you.

"Xiao?" you say as his piercing eyes stare directly through you. His Master always told him that she loved him. Even if he hated her he still clung to that false love. Of being wanted. Isn't love for a single person vile? Would feeling such emotions for one person instead of "everyone" bring you down to reality? It's not fair that you've crawled your way into his heart while you walk along in bliss. Now that he thinks about it. It was so simple. He just needs to monopolize your thoughts and love. This time it won't be as friends.

"I love you."

He'll pull you down to where he is. You extended your hand down to hell so it's your fault. He'll drag you down kicking and screaming if he has to. You left him alive. You have to live for him and by him. He's not letting go.

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