#to the role he thinks he must fill. Yet he does it questionably because he is human after all and he's flippant and partial

[batsplat]

there is that adorable pic of a 13 year old pecco and marc, hugging him by the shoulders. pecco hadn’t become a rossi protege yet, marc recently won his title in 125, they are both so so young. like, of course pecco is going to think a senior (albeit as famous as marc was at the time) is cool and worthy of “celebrity” picture! of course marc is going to take photos with kids that ask him to!

and then they meet at the rossi ranch years later, pecco after an abysmal rookie moto3 season, but part of vr46 academy, marc as a multiple world champion in different categories. like, i’m sure they’ve crossed paths in the paddock, but it looks like the ranch was their first outside of work get-together?

i do wonder at what point did pecco stop seeing marc as this admirable motogp giant? they are co-workers/competitors now, supposedly equals. does the childish wonderment and idealization ever go away, when you are put head-to-head? yes, pecco has said that he doesn’t consider himself on marc’s level, but it does really answer the question, when marc achieves something awesome, like a fucking pole on a honda, does it fill pecco only with the sense of falling short, jealousy, frustration, or is there that tiny 13 year old pecco somewhere inside going “wow, this guy is awesome”

anon... first of all this ask is right up my street. second of all, yeah no the thirteen year old never entirely went away

to some extent obviously all riders kinda do this when they end up competing with the guys they grew up admiring. (or well in modern motogp, that's how it worked out - the competitive windows do have to be big enough, yeah? I'm not sure about the nineties premier class riders, but starting from valentino who had the biaggi poster, was a capirossi fan, an norick fan... but then also didn't get to compete directly with doohan for instance and was instead just mentored by him. valentino sticking around for so long basically Breaks this.) like I was talking in this ask about the dani/marc relationship and how when we talk about dani being marc's 'reference', it does mean something slightly different than the valentino hero idealisation. basically, it's the question of whether you think you're gonna fight that guy one day, if all goes well... because if you're little pecco, right, you're looking up to marc and want to be him, but you also want to beat him (if little pecco is feeling very brave). so marc fills the role of 'reference', the bloke who is basically always a few steps ahead of pecco - exaggerated by how precocious marc was. the role of 'hero' is of course again filled by valentino, though in this case pecco didn't actually have to meaningfully compete against his idol. the separation is a bit cleaner

and look, I doubt this ever really went as far as marc's admiration for dani. but yeah as you say: at the end of the day it's this cool superstar who is tearing up the lower categories and then is tearing up the premier class... like that's this prodigy... and then you get to be part of your actual hero's academy AND you're there when the prodigy gets invited to your hero's home!! not only is marc cool, not only is he winning everything, but also valentino clearly thinks he's fantastic... you kinda want valentino to think you are fantastic in the same way he talks about marc and looks at him... and pecco is like. seventeen at this point. great age. super impressionable. he's having a marginally better season than his absolute flop moto3 campaign but it's still!! rough! you know, so far away from this world that valentino and marc inhabit. obviously young athletes dream, obviously they have to be a bit delusional, obviously they have to believe they'll make it, but those are the kinds of harrowing years that really dent your actual belief. like god, the world of valentino and marc must have felt kinda unattainable back then...

anyway, obviously a year later marc became public enemy number one. personally, if I had to guess, I don't really think valentino has ever spoken much to his proteges about the details of the marc feud. it's the kind of thing where you maybe occasionally badmouth a guy you all hate when the kids are in the room, some dismissive comment or some slightly ugly sideswipe... but valentino did probably prefer to keep his mentees out of the whole thing and isn't giving them particularly detailed hot takes on sepang 2015. I mean, look at what luca said last year

hey, he could be lying, but is he really the type? "I'm sure he's still angry" - even that doesn't sound like he knows anything particularly specific about where his brother's at these days. if valentino hasn't spoken much about sepang 2015 with his own flesh and blood, then is he really giving long debriefs to marco bezzecchi? are you sure? of course, unlike luca, pecco does have the dubious distinction of actually being at sepang 2015, so there's always the chance he was in the room when some nasty things were being said about marc... but my sense is that all the academy riders have kind of been left to their own devices when making up their minds about the marc/valentino relationship. just probably a bit of a no-go topic on most days. and while pecco may have initially been completely on board with the marc hate, over the years his stance has mellowed to the brave and bold position of 'actually, I have other stuff to worry about'. like, this is why you don't get this weird bez-style all-over-the-place behaviour from pecco - fundamentally, he is far too sensible and far too interested in his own career to be going around seeking revenge on the behalf of his mentor. it's not like valentino really seems to expect him to either. sometimes the best thing you can do is simply try not to care that much

soooooo fundamentally you get to this place where for quite a few years, pecco really isn't thinking about marc too often I reckon... it's very much background noise - even when he's gotten to motogp, he's obviously not exactly fighting with marc from the word go. he has other stuff to worry about! then marc is gone for a bit! 2021 is kinda weird because pecco never really felt in that championship fight (I mean, maybe he thought he was idk) because he only really got going late in the season, and marc definitely wasn't in that title fight... BUT pecco got his first ever motogp win as a result of a proper great defensive ride against marc at aragon! seven overtakes and re-overtakes in the last few laps! truly some proper smart riding, anticipating where marc was going to attack and figuring out how to get him back every time. and of course, that's like... got to be one of the coolest ways possible you can get your first win? beating one of the all time greats (even if a physically impaired one) in a direct extensive duel? genuinely looking at the current grid, I'd struggle to come up with a cooler maiden win... oh I suppose zarco last year would actually be a decent shout. one of those two imo! anyway what an ego boost that must be

typed out the response to this ask on wednesday and let it *vaguely gestures* simmer a bit, but actually thursday they had pecco on that motogp podcast thingy and talked him through basically his whole career. which is one of those cases of 'not necessarily anything new, but always interesting to hear how the bloke himself puts it', and anyway it does also cover a lot of the stuff referenced in this post, would recommend. I did want to quickly bring it up because pecco does talk about aragon 2021 in that (at around 23 mins in):

Q: And the amount of pressure, for everyone who doesn't remember - it was Aragon '21, vs Marc Marquez, anti-clockwise track, everyone's expecting a certain person to win. [...] Seven times, he passes you in the last three laps, and every time you have to find something, for your first win - A: Not bad, yeah? Q: How was that feeling crossing the line, because it's your first win but it's also the last three laps of craziness that you've come through? A: Yeah, I remember that... we were prepared to fight for this victory because we work at it a lot and we were finally prepared and as soon as started the weekend I was feeling great. Marc was very strong, Fabio was very strong also... We started to race and I did the pole position and then we started to race and Marc was like always super super fast in Aragon because it's a left hander track, he's very strong in Aragon, it's his home grand prix, so... I was trying the maximum and I was there fighting with him and for me was fantastic because I was very strong in a very complicated track for me. The first - was not the first possibility to win but was one of the first and we were fighting with the maximum with the top [player?] so defeating him in Aragon was fantastic and I never could have asked more for my first victory for sure. Because some win their first victory with gap or with some luck, we fight. [...] Yeah, was fantastic.

like I said. it's a really cool win! pecco knows it's a cool win! he knows it's a cool win because it's marc! even two premier class title pecco still feels deeply aware of how special that was

*reaches up to scratch at ear in slightly self-conscious manner when saying "not bad" about beating the eight times world champion*

because it does mean something extra to beat marc, right? and that's also what this represents to pecco, as an opportunity... obviously on balance he'd very much want marc to not be in his team, because he's not an idiot and he's aware it's going to be a bit of a nightmare. that being said! of course, would there be anything cooler than for him than actually beating marc in the same team... I don't want to sound like a broken record on this topic but just to reiterate, none of the titles won post-2019 are in any way diminished by marc's absence - and fundamentally pecco must know he's a deserving champion, even if he still considers himself on a different level from valentino and marc. but of course it would mean something special to beat him! it's already meant something special to beat him in individual races! it'd mean something special if he beats him this year, older bike be damned! and it'd mean something special next year. pecco is deeply wary of marc, and rightly so, but don't take that to mean he isn't up for the fight. he always has been

weirdly enough, I do actually think being valentino's protege might help him be sensible about marc. because the thing is pecco has clearly put some thought into all of this at some point and had to decide for himself... or well, to make peace with the fact that he is not going to be the next valentino rossi - and that he doesn't really want to be. it's kinda the casey versus jorge distinction: you can be a valentino fan and admire everything he's done on-track but still very much know that valentino the persona isn't something you really want to attempt to emulate because it just isn't you, or you can hunger after attaining that kind of 'character' and popularity for yourself and find yourself disillusioned when things turn out differently. pecco's in the casey camp, minus the desire to shove valentino off the nearest cliff edge. like he says:

man wants a quiet life when he's not doing the death sport. and, y'know, marc might not have quite those stratospheric levels of popularity as valentino does... but it's fairly obvious pecco links them in his mind, which is not just about talent. they're both Characters, they're both figureheads in the sport, they're both larger than life. and maybe sometimes, deep down, someone like pecco might wish that kind of thing did come naturally to him... but if he has felt that way, then he's already kinda had to work through all that. he's valentino's successor! he's the next big italian motogp star! but he's never going to be valentino. and he wouldn't want that life, it wouldn't make him happy - and probably he looks at marc with all his drama and controversy and thinks he wouldn't really want all that either. pecco's given all of this a lot of thought, and he's still probably a bit too self-conscious and a bit too aware of all of this stuff for his own good, but that does also mean he knows his own head and where he's at when it comes to his own status in the sport. both when it comes to the character and when it comes to the talent. sure, having marc's fuck you talent would be nice, everyone would want that... but also if you're a two time premier champion, at a certain point you need a certain cockiness about your own abilities. he's spoken about how he needs a more well-settled bike than casey or marc, how he can't out-perform the bike like they can - there clearly is a lot of admiration there, still the sense of respect and awe you probably can't ever quite shake. pecco won't ever be one of those aliens. but he's had enough time to establish himself in the sport before he's had to deal with the marc threat in a more active way, has had the chance to find his place without worrying too much about marc - has been able to build up his own confidence. at the same time, pecco is still very obviously aware of just who marc is and the weight of that legacy and it shapes how he approaches fighting marc. it's pecco's admiration vying with his arrogance - and he has to hope the latter wins out. you can't be fearful of the legacy of those you're trying to beat. you have to kill your heroes, even if it's a strange flavour of hero

anyhow - one big way in which valentino does loom large here is that everyone else is aware of his rivalry with marc and how it is crucial Historical Context for the pecco/marc stuff. because pecco does have that dog in him, he's fundamentally disinterested in fighting his idol's battles and is mainly just looking out for himself. a big part of the general wariness towards marc isn't even valentino-related antipathy or just respect for his abilities, but also this kind of sense of... god, this marc thing is always going to have extra implications, will there be discourse, can there please not be discourse... he doesn't want to get into this stuff, he doesn't want to be part of the sepang 2015 reenactment society. he's pretty determined to stay clear of marc-related controversy at every turn, and generally does do a good job of not letting the undoubtedly extremely annoying marc annoy him... the only time pecco had proper marc-induced head loss was mugello last year - y'know, that whole thing when he felt impeded by marc and then slowed down long enough to give marc the chance to warm up his tyres and catch a pecco tow to the front row. like that was just head gone, the kind of thing that happens when you already find someone deeply annoying and then you kinda choose the wrong moment to get mad at them. with a bit of distance pecco may well have regretted reacting that way, like you don't really want to give marc that kind of opening. he's been way more disciplined since then, but it still opened the door

fundamentally, the less time pecco spends obsessing over marc, the better for him. pecco obviously has to be very aware of marc and wary of him, but he also can't spent too much energy on admiring him or being irritated by him or anything else. (given that valentino's descriptions of the marc/pecco rivalry do seem to frame marc as a competitor who sounds an awful lot like valentino himself, ironically valentino is quite well-placed to offer the 'try to avoid letting the guy who gets off on annoying his rivals annoy you' advice.) it's always going to be tough, isn't it, competing against your heroes, figuring out how to disentangle those past emotions from how you actually approach fighting them, how to feel comfortable enough in your own skin to not be cowed by that status... you can't get to a place where you're so admiring or respectful or intimidated that you're already beaten before the competition even starts - and to his credit pecco has shown he is both willing to stand up to the famous marc marquez as well as capable of doing so. my guess is that for him, the childhood idolisation isn't primarily expressed in a 'wow he dragged the honda to pole!!' (not least when he was using pecco's teammate to directly deny pecco). sure, perhaps you do get those knee jerk reactions of admiring the sheer craft of your rival's riding, just have to do your best not to let it affect you. but for the most part it's... really wanting to beat marc. and sometimes feeling a teensy bit insecure about just how good marc is. and really wanting to beat him. he kinda has to be sensible and talk down in his brain how special this one guy is so he doesn't do anything silly, tell himself it's just any other guy... but it's still always going to be there, hovering in the background. and god does pecco really want to beat him

[jonsnowunemploymentera]

Hello! So i know that I am WAY! less knowleged than u re: asiof but I have a question about the Prophecy (AA/PTWP). I did a deep dive on it and GRRM spoke repeately about handling prophecy carefully/not too literally etc 3 weeks ago at Oxford he repeated: "you cannot have a prophecy that comes true way it was written and everbody understands it(..) it has to come true in a way you didnt understand(..)so it bites you in the ass" So rather than "who has the most obvious PTWP clues" shouldnt we theorize "how will the idea of AA/PTWP backfire on the believers" or "how can a unique/unpreditable element fill the role"? Since Im assuming GRRM stance will likely apply to the biggest prophecy in the books. What do you think? do you know theories like that? If anything, I only see "the prophecy is just nonsense!!" but that is clearly also not what GRRM says: not prophecy is bogus but has to be unexpected or "bite you in the ass".

Hey! No, you're far too kind 😭

I completely agree with you, and you raise some interesting and important questions, especially when considering how these ideas reflect back on our protagonists.

The tricky thing with interpreting prophecy is that the characters are operating on second-hand, third-hand, or even more distant accounts, all filtered through their cultural understandings of what a hero should be. Their beliefs are shaped by the information available to them, which is often incomplete or distorted. This means each character's idea of who is the subject of prophecy is largely subjective, influenced by their biases and specific cultural narratives and thus might never present the whole truth! So as readers, we should be very cautious about how we interpret the declarations presented by any character as absolute truth. We will probably never know until the final book is published, and even then it might be murky at best.

I saw GRRM’s comments a few days ago, and they really resonated with me because they align with how I’ve been feeling lately, particularly regarding Melisandre's role in all of this:

“[…] It is written in prophecy as well. When the red star bleeds and the darkness gathers, Azor Ahai shall be born again amidst smoke and salt to wake dragons out of stone.” (Davos III, ASoS)

It's often amusing in fandom to discuss how wrong Melisandre is, and she certainly is almost all the time. But lately, I've been wondering: what if we're wrong too? We focus so much on Melisandre misidentifying Azor Ahai, but what if she completely misunderstands her own role in all of this—and we're too blinded to notice it?

Because the issue isn't just that she's chosen the wrong person. The bigger problem is that she's fixated on providing what she believes are the necessary tools to defeat the Others. She wants to "wake dragons out of stone”, repeatedly asserting that "two kings" are needed to wake the dragon so they can serve Stannis Baratheon. This thinking leads to the burning of Shireen—because someone must die to forge the hero's weapon. Melisandre even sees herself as expendable in this grand scheme. But what if her entire understanding is flawed—not just about who the hero is, but about the very dragon she is trying to awaken?

I've been considering all this because "dragons" in the text don’t always refer to actual winged creatures—they're often symbolic descriptors for Targaryens in visions. For example, Moqorro's visions show dragons old and young, true and false; Baelor Breakspear appears as a dragon falling on top of Dunk; and a dragon egg hatching essentially symbolizes Aegon V. So if we're taking prophecy at face value, just as Mel does, we're left wondering where in seven hells she expects to find her "sleeping dragons".

But the thing is, she already has one: Jon Snow. In fact, her visions in Dance suggest that Jon is the one she is truly searching for. And I often think of these visions as moments where I go, "Oh, come on, Mel! It's not that guy; it's the other one!" Yet I've come to realize that even if she identifies Jon correctly, Mel would still face the dilemma of needing another sacrifice to "wake" Jon's dragon. However, she is likely to resurrect Jon before reconnecting with Stannis, which means that by the time she and Stannis consider burning Shireen, she may have already awakened the dragon - and thus fulfilled the prophecy.

If Jon is the awakened dragon, that adds a tragic irony to the whole situation with Mel and Shireen. Legend has it that the woman (Nissa Nissa) dies for the hero’s glory. But if Jon is the dragon, then does that make Melisandre Azor Ahai in this case? After all, we don't know much about the original prophecy so who knows how much it has been distorted over time?

But wouldn't that be such a twist? Mel isn’t a noble lady or royal; she's a former slave, a mere priestess—a tool, a guide, but not the hero. She never considered that she, a woman, could be R’hllor’s chosen. Yet she would perform an actual miracle in bringing a dragon back to life. And if, like me, you believe that Jon will be born from a funeral pyre (inverting Khal Drogo and Dany's dragon eggs), then the prophecy is turned entirely on its head.

This also raises the question: what about Shireen? What does she, an innocent little girl, die for? Why should she have to die for a dragon that is already living? Why should she have to die to exalt a false hero, when the true miracle worker is actually the "expendable" woman who stands before her? Then we have Melisandre carry the baggage of killing a child for something she had successfully completed before...It doesn't matter if she's able to perform some bastardized miracle and create a shadow dragon, because it would all be all for naught and a wasted effort. To me, this is more satisfying from a character development perspective because Melisandre is no longer a background character. She’s got POV chapters now, which means she has an arc that needs to reach its natural conclusion. It cannot begin and end in service of the men around her. She must reflect on her role and come to terms with her actions—both good (waking the dragon in Jon) and bad (sacrificing Shireen for something she had already accomplished and for a prophecy she had already fulfilled); and this could lead to some compelling writing. This might also answer your question about "how will the idea of AA/PTWP backfire on the believers?”. Because “incorrect” interpretations not only hinder progress, but the cost of human life is perhaps too high :/

Oops, so sorry for the long tangent.....

[ria-writes-stories]

When it's all over, what do you think of?

Ship: OilRose (J x V) Genre: Glass, Romance Character focus: J Note: The last fiction of MD, and the last for so much longer ----------------

(No one's pov)

How cruel is it to be alive? A human will say it's terribly so, but what about a drone? A drone is not allowed to speak up their mind, a drone has to obey commends, a drone that plays by the rules efficiently is a good drone, a drone that doesn't, is an abomination that has to be removed from the system. So what does an efficient drone do when it is place in an environment filled with incompetent drones?

They become responsible, every single mistake, every single slip off, if she didn't punish themselves from time as a form of protection, then all would have ended up gone long ago. She calls it tough love, they call it toughness, she doesn't care how much of a bad guy she is, she refuses to allow the ones she has been instructed with to fall to the very hands of their creators. J was an efficient drone, and she had one clear job, be head maid, be the head, be the leader, be the mind, take care of them, even when it hurts me, do what must be done, it's an order, but it is also an aching heart who has saw the horrors of humans. They do not care for their own kin, they do not care for their own blood, so now that she is meant to care for all of these drones that are nowhere near being related to her as they are all just bolts attached together by heat and screws, she can not help but take on this role as she was instructed to do, doing whatever cruel punishment the masters demand, stepping to the side whenever one drone gets sent to the crows, because she can't risk to loose everyone for just one person, as dear as that person is, and she had no strength to gain from her human either. Tessa was just a child, J knew that, but in human terms, while J was indeed a tool equipped with artificial intelligence able to complete all of these tasks, they forgot where the developing AI may find itself asking a million questions. That is what made J different, she did not ask questions because she knew they were pointless, however, it did not mean that she was not present, she had a heart, she truly felt, but she knew better than to disobey, she knew better than to loose everything all over again, she knew better than to give herself a fake heartache. She was a drone! She has no excuses for being sloppy! She has to keep her head up, she is the leader of the squad…

But he was the favorite. 'N!' 'O-oh, sorry, I wasn't looking.' Tessa's favorite drone… her favorite drone. What could she do to catch her attention. She was the chef maid, and yet, she couldn't get a single glimpse from her eyes like she looked at N. N had a good heart but one too big for his own good or the good of others for that matter… he didn't know where to draw the line, she did, so then why would V so irrationally choose him over her? Why would Tessa pick N as her favorite? No. She didn't need to question Tessa, not because she was human, but because she knew what Tessa went through, and J long accepted that she will only be a 'partner in crime' for her, a guard, a supervisor, a side character in the story, if N brought her comfort than she will allow it, that is why in front of Tessa, J avoided any snappy comments, but when it came to V…? She couldn't allow it. She refused. She refused to let this beautiful perfect heart fall in love with one that would break her heart without scratching his. She pushed him, she kicked him, she kept him away from her, she kept her away from him, she tried to make her see all that she could offer her, but her eyes were forever locked on someone that couldn't even give her half of what she could. Why? Was she not efficient enough? Was she not good enough? Was she not the perfect model? She could offer her protection. She knew how to fight, she knew how to do so many things that all the other drones didn't, and yet, yet she still only had eyes for him. What did he have? There was no rational answer to it, just like there was no logical answer as to why she would ache when she saw her either.

Why would she short circuit? She went to the mechanic so many times, she insisted there is something wrong with her, she insisted there was something missing, something broken, but no diagnosed was put, therefore nothing was done to her system. J knew she was broken, she knew that if she admitted it, she would be disposed, she knew that she would never see them again, any of them, so, she kept quiet. The day V passed out, J was devastated, but she wasn't allowed to show it, she had to continue to do her duties, otherwise the Elliots would have a reason more to rid of them, and she wasn't going to risk it… yet nothing that she did was enough.

Meanwhile he was with her all the time neglecting his duties, in truth putting V at greater in danger with his foolishness. She had to carry these sins on her back, and when V woke again she was not herself, so, she had to fight her, she made sure not to hurt her, just throw her off and scare her, she regretted even that much but she knew it was ideal.

A new began after that, pitch blackness and then the bright sparkle of hope. She forgot everything, and then she was doomed to remember it all… She fell in love, all over again, this time not with a fragile maid but with a slightly psychotic and deranged drone, she still had to be stoic, she still had to be the leader, but now that they carried the same responsibilities it felt as if they could get closer, N was useless and worthless as per usual, and for once she thought that V thought the same, she displayed resentment towards him, at the very least weirdness towards his presence, but… there was no sparkle, no light, nothing, just hunger and madness, and it hurt, to see the person you care about most loose themselves, it was worse than death, so, quietly to herself J made one wish. 'Let me receive what means death, if it means that she will be happy'.

Lo and behold it happened, to her surprise, to her utter shock, she was bested, she was gone in a deep sleep for who knows how long but she woke up again…would that mean that her wish did not come true? Would it mean that whatever happiness she could have had up until she woke up will all be taken away from her? She had to make sure her crew was fine, even traitorous worthless N.

When she saw them again yes they were all fine, but what she trully sought out were her eyes. Did her wish work? Did she get to be happy? She wasn't allowed to find out, not for now, she was given another mission, and for the greater good of her, for the long run, she had to obey it, bigger things were ahead of them, and as per usual J having the bigger picture as she was right next to Tessa at all times, so, she had to do what was required to ensure all of their safety, she just hopped that she could experience seeing her joy again. She wished that they could both be joyful…for once.

The strange pony tailed girl was always a mystery to V. She was so cold and tough and yet she meant well, they got along well, she was a great friend, she was good, she was a good memory, but she didn't remain a memory, she remained the same regardless of what has happened, and that must have been the most comforting thing in V's life. Once Uzi blasted J, V didn't get to feel too much, she had other things to worry about, she took that from J. She learned a lot from her, sometimes she wondered how many things she could have learnt from her if she didn't waste time chasing boys that didn't even glimpsed her way. He was not ready for the type of love she came with, so he naturally went to someone even more broken than him, not realising that it meant even more work and love than he was ever capable of showing her when he was at peek of being in love with her. He really was an useless idiot, and she was a dumb girl for loving him to begin with.

"V! WE NEED YOU!" "Nah… Uzi, I trust you."

Darkness, is that what J felt? Is that what it looked like? Will she open her eyes ever again? Would she…?

"V!" A faint voice called over as her eyes slowly began to open, but everything was so blurry, yet…colorful. "You got to be more careful!" A familiar voice told her as her glasses were placed right back on her eyes. "What… is… J?" V asked beyond confused as the other girl simply smiled. "You always looked better with glasses on." "Why-?" "Because that way you can see like we do and you get to experience just as much joy!" V was beyond baffled, was this even J? Was she somewhere in the solver's mind…? What was happening?

"J we- I- I am pretty sure I died, N and Uzi… and you went off- how are you- how are we here?" V asked as she looked around to see a seemingly endless version of the Elliot garden in spring, when it was full of life. "Did you ever think of what you truly want?" J said looking at a flower with sadden eyes as V looked at her startled, what was with her voice? What was with her eyes? V never saw J like this.

"Miss me! Miss me! Now you gotta kiss me!" "V STOP SAYING THAT YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT IT MEANS!"

V shot her head up to see her younger self running away from a younger version of J, back when life was so much simpler, when they just had to take orders, fulfil them, and not have to worry with the world absolutely ending. V looked with at it all with a mixture of pain, sadness, grief, shock and realisation. She knew why she was here now…

"Well, what does it mean?" "It's… it's a weird things humans do! Don't say that ever again! You don't know what someone who knows what it means will do if they hear it!" "What's so bad for it?" The young maid asked clueless as she looked up at her superior and best friend. J looked away embarrassed and then took her hand gently and kissed it. "This. This is a kiss. A kiss can be placed everywhere, and apparently a kiss on the lips is real big deal, because it's super important, one on the hand too, but it the hand one is also an act of politeness! There are also cheek kisses made out of affection and they can be considered as friendly. I showed you this one so you know that no one that is not close enough to you should be allowed to kiss you anywhere other than your hand." V explained as V blushed a little bit from delight and excitment. "Then I hope N kisses me on the lips if I ever get to say this to him!" At those words J's face dropped completely, her eyes widened, her mouth shut, forming a small pout, as her hands stood limply at her side, before immediately looking away realising the weakness she was showing.

"J? What's wrong?" V asked, only now noticing something changed when J turned around. J simply squeezed her eyes shot as she clenched her fists before looking back at V with a small smile. "Nothing, nothing at all. Come on, want me to teach you more of those human courting ways?" "Yes please!" V said excitedly, completely blind to what was unfolding in front of her despite having her glasses on.

"Alright, there's another game with flowers. You take a flower of your choice and pluck it's petals and-" "But why?" "Let me finish. At each petal you have to say 'love me' or 'love me not', like this." J said as she picked a dandelion and showed her, and of course she landed on the last petal with 'love me not'. "And…what does the last petal mean?" "It shows if they do or do not love you…" "Oh-!" V said. "Does that mean your person doesn't love you? I'm so sorry J-" "No-! No… it's fine, I don't love anyone I just did this to show you." J said as she looked away. A lie. V watched all of this in silence. She only learned much later on that J would look away when she would lie, but back then she didn't know.

"Now, here's a trick… if the flower has an even number, start with 'love me not' and if it has an uneven number start with 'love me'." "But why?" "So you can end up on 'love me' always-" "J! Why did you say that! Now it's not as special anymore!" V whined as J's eyes began to search around frantically.

"If I had to choose, I'd do it all over again, without skipping a beat." J said as she opened her eyes, facing the only thing she could never do. Looking at those sad eyes that looked like a beaten dog left out in a storm. "It made me feel alive, in the worst ways possible, but with the best pain possible." J said as a small smile cracked up on her face. "I hoped to never see your face in pain ever again, but clearly that is another wish that didn't come true for me." J said weakly with a sheepish look in her eyes as V's vision once again turned blurry, but not because her glasses fell off, but because tears were building up in them.

When it all came to an end, J thought of V. When it all came collapsing for V, she still thought of the same person that ruined her life yet helped her fight to even get a taste of what being alive felt.

Horror struck into the hearts of the poor humans, innocent or not, the drones were now nothing bu killing machines feasting on their flesh, and the happiest memories of them being together was devouring the same corpse as J spread her wings and protected V from the rain of bullets aimed at them.

When it's all over, what do you think of? I think of what I have gained, I think of how it changed me for the better, I use the worst parts for the better future. Now when this journey comes to an end, I thank you all that have joined this brief chapter of my journey to achieving my dreams. I thank you for watching someone who despises love novels go out of their way to write love stories as they believe they should be written. I thank you for reading stories that help my growth in experience, that help me learn more and realise more, that help me practice for what it is to come. I thank you all for the moments that will forever be a small bundle of joy when I will ever need to remind myself as to 'why?'. I thank you, and I hope that in the long run of this future, you will be willing to read stories of great adventure, of pain, of love, of hope, of hate, of all that makes one feel alive. Thank you.

The end

[abybweisse]

Everything I know about Ciel is against my will. You see, I hadn’t read the manga all the way yet and any knowledge I do have of future events come from blogs I follow (I know about the twins and Agni’s death, that sort of stuff). Against my better judgement, I decided to read further ahead because I wanted some context (I’m currently on the circus arc) and I am truly devastated upon reading ch 135. It made me so upset and I know what I came here for, Kuro is not exactly a bright and upbeat story, but having the kinds of things done to him spelled out instead of being inferred or implied is heartbreaking. I tried to continue reading where I was at in the story but couldn’t stop looking at Ciel and being sad for him. I’m kind of avoiding continuing reading because of that and although I’m 6 years late to the “ch.135 is sad” party, I needed to get my feelings out. Sorry if it’s not the place but no one I know is into Kuro and would be able to understand.

That being said, is it possible that what happened to him within the cult effected the way he interacts with/ sees/ treats any adults regardless of who they are or whether they’re “safe” or not? I always saw him as someone who is trying to escape from his childhood while at the same time attempting to reclaim it. I haven’t read all the way through so I may be missing more information. It’s a question I had swimming in my mind after being totally crushed.

Post traumatic stress

Since you are currently in the circus arc, it's hard for me to say too much without spoiling things even more.

Everything about our earl's (our Ciel's) position as Earl Phantomhive, the queen's watchdog, must be a near constant struggle for him. He suffered greatly before he had ever returned to the manor, and yet he chooses to fill this role. Every time he has to deal with some creep -- even Vanel within the first few chapters -- he must feel repulsed by what they say, let alone anything they might do. Sebastian sometimes reinforces those feelings of disgust, even when he's not necessarily trying to do so.

This kid definitely sees adults differently now than before the attack and even more differently now than before the cult got hold of him and his older twin. Before the attack, the worst he had to deal with were bouts of asthma, feelings of inferiority, and wondering what he would do to make a living when he got older. Those are hard enough. After the initial incident, he's lost not just his family but his entire world, small as it was. After the cult, he's lost most of his innocence and temporarily lost his dignity. He's even lost the brother he'd been reunited with for about a month.

Since returning to the manor, people have sometimes been inappropriate with him, in words and/or in deeds. Vanel says he'd sell the kid off and thinks it's considerate to say he'd drug him enough that he wouldn't know or care what was happening to him -- not having a clue this kid's already been through that and worse. Druitt tries to auction him off while thinking he's a girl; oddly, though, that means Druitt didn't personally examine the kid. Doll places his hands on her chest to show she's a girl and offers to let him see what's further down. In a later arc, Sieglinde does and says several highly inappropriate things.

There's been a big delay in typing up the rest of my response, so I have no idea how far along you are now, if you are still reading the series. Perhaps you've hit the green witch arc and know what Sieglinde does and says....

It seems to me that Sebastian enjoys watching his young master suffer from reminders of what he'd experienced from the cultists. You can see some of that when he saves the kid from Vanel. A little bit in getting ready for Druitt's party and the escape from it. And even more when he doesn't kill the circus doctor until his master can finally get the words out to order him to do so. I'm assuming you've finished the circus arc by now, at least. He lets the kid suffer a bit more than necessary later on, in other scenarios, and sometimes just plain makes the kid feel uncomfortable. Though, oddly, he doesn't say anything about how he got information out of Beast; he could have told the kid just to see the revulsion on his face, but he doesn't. But there are other times where he "shields" the kid from viewing mature content, but I think that has more to do with being a proper butler to a child, when the other servants are around. Like it's an act for their benefit, not his master's benefit.

For the most part, our earl doesn't automatically treat adults (or other minors) like they might harm him, but whenever anyone talks about anything sexual or exposes parts that would be considered inappropriate for the era -- or even touches him in an unexpected manner -- you can tell he's a bit on edge, sometimes plain grossed out by it.

[shadowed-vigil]

day 11: surrogate

noun: a substitute, especially a person deputizing for another in a specific role or office.

characters: warrior of light, carvallain de gorgagne word count: 1614 takes place just before 5.0; a continuation of sorts from day 4: reticent. explicit. sorry, carv. 

He doesn’t see her again for at least a full summer after the expedition to Kugane. 

She had thanked him before she’d stepped off his ship, diplomatic and polite, color in her cheeks all the same. He had hoped that his answering smile had been one of reassurance. Awkward encounters and all the rest, it didn’t matter; it isn’t as if he bore her any ill will. 

There are promises, and then there are secrets. Carvallain knows full well how to keep both. 

And so he does, and so it goes, until the inevitable.

It isn’t a surprise when he does see her next — always more a matter of when than if when it comes to Eorzea’s champion skittering about the docks of Limsa Lominsa. His first glimpse of her is of her hair flashing pale in the sunlight as she hurries her way past the Aftcastle — as she pauses, blinking when she catches sight of him. Too cordial for her own good, perhaps; she needn’t spare the effort on his account, but he returns her wave with a smile all the same. 

He’s somewhat surprised that she bothers to find him at all later. “I think I owe you,” she tells him, and at his dubious look, she holds up her hands, explains hastily, “A drink! I owe you a drink. And perhaps some better conversation, to make up for the last one.” 

“As I recall, that was more a failing on my part.” 

“Then I’ll take the lead this time.” 

“Only if you insist.” 

“I would never insist,” she sniffs. “Just an offer. I just… well. I feel a bit…” 

His turn, this time, to hold up a hand. 

“Think nothing of it.” 

So he accepts her invitation — lets her treat him to it, the ale at the Bismarck as good as any other, watches her face as she takes a long swig. The sigh of relief, a small smile. 

Still modest; still polite. Still tension bleeding through on the edges. At this point he thinks it may as well just be part of her, some sort of shadow ever present in the knit of her brow, even as she fills him in on her latest exploits; because of course he’d heard the news from Ala Mhigo, but not her version; the standard tales of heroism, fearsome battles, her supposed ability to breathe underwater now, because, of course — 

Carvallain leans back in his chair. She must catch his careful eye because she relaxes — the guise of relaxation, anyway, taking another sip of her drink. 

Says, smiling, “So. Is Rhoswen keeping well?” 

Carvallain blinks. “As well as you’d expect, I’d suppose — better when I steer clear of her way.” 

Arcelia laughs, delicate and clear as crystal. “Please. I think you may both just be fools.” 

“You think so? I tend to take people at face value.” 

“How dreadfully pragmatic of you.” She takes another sip, eyeing him over the rim. “Perhaps Limsa does suit you better.” 

“I should hope so.”

She clicks her tongue. 

He doesn’t hurry the conversation, content to let her steer them as she chooses — mildly surprised to see her veer so close to territory he’d planned on keeping to a careful minimum.

“I was actually just in Ishgard,” she says, finally. “You’ll be happy to know that Restoration efforts are still underway and moving along.” 

“I am,” he says. 

She pauses again, nails rapping restlessly against the tabletop. She takes a deep breath, lips slightly parted like the words are at the tip of her tongue; like she can’t quite figure out how to say what she wants. 

Thankfully, there’s still ale yet in her cup — the last bit of liquid courage she seems to need to speak.

“Truth be told, I probably shouldn’t even be here.” She runs a hand through her hair. “The Scions are — well. Something’s come up, and they aren’t…” She pauses, frowns. “Well. It’s just me right now,” which has him raise a brow in alarm, multiple questions springing to mind, but she just goes on, “running around trying to make ends meet, and with the aftermath in Ala Mhigo and all the rest, it’s just been…” 

“Stressful.” 

She flashes a bemused smile. “To say the least.” 

“The others — are they alright?” 

“...They will be.”

Silence settles over them, flagons on the table. The din of the other patrons simmers to near nothing as the late hour dwindles, the ocean breeze blowing in gently from outside, the faint crash of the waves down against the docks. 

“Carv,” she says softly.

There’s that bump of her knee against his again, but she doesn’t flinch this time. She looks tired. She looks solemn. She — 

Stands up. Carvallain blinks in surprise.

“A walk might be nice,” she suggests. “It’s a clear night, full moon. I drank quite a bit; I could use a little sobering up anyway.” 

And, well. What sort of gentleman would let his company stumble out into the night alone. 

—

Of course, they do walk for a time. He offers her his arm because it’s the polite thing to do, and she takes it, seemingly content to lean in at his side.

They wander from the upper docks to the lower, eventually ending up down at the shipyard, staring up at The Misery. Some part of him isn’t sure why he guided them here, quick to blame it on the drink. Another part of him knows better. 

“What will you do, after this?” he asks her. Mild and polite. Carefully unassuming.

“Head back to the Rising Stones, I suppose.” There’s a beat of silence, a shuffling of her feet. “...Not that I’m in a particular hurry to return.” 

He can’t help the wry note from creeping in. “...Is that so.” 

The pretense falls away bafflingly quickly. “We don’t have to.” 

“We really don’t,” he agrees. 

Her grip on his forearm tightens regardless.

—

In truth, he brings her to his quarters expecting a repeat of before; a few chaste kisses, a press of her body against his, the standard song and dance that would get them at least stumbling towards the bed. That the moment her fingers managed to fumble open the last of the buttons on his shirt, she would freeze — that she’d get that guilty look about her again, some kind of haunted look reflected in her eyes before she’d skitter back off into the night.

But she doesn’t. This time, it’s different. 

This time she openly gasps against his mouth when she manages to straddle him, some kind of desperate whine stuck in her throat when he grips her waist to steady her, to guide her, her cunt brushing warm against the strain in his trousers. Her hands are clumsy, sure, but purposeful enough in their quest to help rid him of his clothes; where she struggles, he’s quick to pick up the slack, graciously working the laces of her bodice free, her dress cast aside, his trousers soon after. 

Nothing left in the way, she wastes no time. She shifts, licks her lips and takes him in hand and he — 

Oh.

Her mouth is warm and wet as she sinks over him, her tongue laving along his length as she goes. The image of her peering up at him through the dark sweep of her lashes, her mouth full and her cheeks flushed, is nearly too much for him to bear. He wants to tangle a hand in her hair, some filthy urge to push her down fully, to see if she would sputter or choke — to see how much the Warrior of Light could take. 

(He wonders if she’d like that. She works at him diligently, but he catches the charged spark of something in her eye — almost contentious, daring —) 

It isn’t hard to coax her down onto her back, legs spread wide, her bottom lip swollen from where she bites down in anticipation. Her breath catches when he slicks himself against her, an eager rock of her hips, fingers knotting in his hair, and he — 

Pauses.

He has to scrape together the last bits of his sanity to do so; not because he wants to, but because she pauses — a heartbeat of a thing, a flutter of hesitation.

It doesn’t really matter that she isn’t quite looking at him — he knows better than to expect anything meaningful from a simple tryst, particularly with someone as flighty as her — but there’s that furrow of her brow, that wistful look, the almost wince before he’s even in her —

But then she bristles.

“I won’t break.” 

“Arcelia —” 

“Don’t.” She begs him, a strangled gasp stuck in her throat, her hands still tangled in his hair. Her hips roll in earnest, her cunt soaked and needy, “Please, just — please —” 

Which —

Fuck.

Who was he to deny her?

—

“Limsa suits you,” she tells him later before she inevitably leaves, her voice quiet and hollow. “But the influence certainly lingers.” 

He can’t tell if it’s tinged with some sort of comfort or grief. 

(He wonders if he was close enough.)

Regardless — he doesn’t bother asking. 

He can keep promises and secrets, but not all questions need answers. 

—

(Besides — several summers later, when it’s all over and done, he gets his eventual answers anyway; sees them for himself, the two vaguely familiar Ishgardian men hovering close to her as they walk through Hawkers Alley together. One’s hand rests gently at her back, while the other stays clasped tight with hers.

For once, he notices, she isn’t in a rush. For once, she seems to be at peace.

She still smiles at him when he catches her eye from across the way. 

He, of course, smiles back.)

[deathfavor]

@furiaei said: ' is there a problem? ' asked with a raised eyebrow. found in the aftermath of brutal murder, the crimson mistress is sat down, looking at the world from a rooftop, her black suit and white shirt covered in blood as she is smoking. ' i don't think you've seen me this way before, is that it? i get it. i'm an unsightly thing to behold. that's something i tell a lot of people and they don't always believe me. ' ( last one for chrollo for the well-being of the ecosystem )

 “ No. There's not a problem at all. “  Chrollo’s voice sounds vaguely amused at the question despite what should be inherently an understood reason for her asking such a question. Most people would recoil at the metallic smell of blood that hung in the air. Humans might be considered predators as a species; but there are rabbits, buffalo, and lions among them. The rabbits who flee or cower in the face of danger and blood, the few but strong buffalo who fight back, and the lions who can inflict harm or exert control. The sight and scent of blood does not so much as raise an eyebrow from the spider.

   He halts beside where she sits, strolling no further despite the space available. He doesn’t rush to answer; he lets her speak her fill while his gaze drifts over the city. It is an ecosystem in its own right; a breathing creature where different people played their roles at different stages. Even they have a place in the system. His lips lift into a smile at her words, the endless grey of his eyes that is more akin to gravestones than silvery mist focusing back upon her.

   “ I think you’ve painted a far gentler picture of me than the reality is. “ Chrollo remarks, his voice as steady as the sun rising and the Earth turning. “ Why would I think of you as an unsightly beast because of this? “ He inquires with genuine curiosity coloring his voice, driven to ask when he wants to pick apart the pieces of her brain and examine them. As brutal as her carnage may have been, he truly doubts it comes anywhere close to the horrors he’s inflicted upon this world. There are monuments to his cruelty, death that immortalizes his name in infamy to those who know it. He laughs softly, shoulders relaxed when he gazes at her.  “  If that is the case, then I must be what even the devil would run from. “

   This is nothing new. In fact, it was the underworld itself who started the popular phrase. The wise speak of the Phantom Troupe in hushed whispers, as if the name itself will summon them from the blackest shadows. The foolish say it like a taunt and never see when death rips their throat out. Even hardened criminals and bounty hunters do not dare to pursue the troupe. Not one has come back alive.

   His words speak of arrogance, yet his tone and expression are not boastful ; they’re as tranquil as ever and he seems not to savor such a claim. It is a fact and nothing more, a comparison to serve for this moment and be discarded. ( Just like the things he steals, held onto until he grows bored or loses interest and sells them off. Very few things taken ever remain in his possession for long. )  “ It doesn’t bother me in the slightest. " 

[sylvie-brett-two-ts]

Boden has his favorites and should be a thing to be addressed on the show, can you imagine if anyone but Stella caused a accident, falling sleep while driving? I bet their job would be at risk and their ability to lead would be questioned. On the other hand, imagine what others house must think, because 51 as a whole it's his favorite.

Thanks for the ask, this is only my 2nd one ever. Here comes a very long response lmao.

I agree that Boden has his favorites and it definitely bothers me from time to time. I certainly wish it was different or that they called it out, but I think a fair amount of it is also just lazy writing and doing what they need to in order to make the short-term story fit.

For example, it has always bothered me that Boden basically made fun of Hermann for asking for officer’s quarters and shut him down immediately when he asked about the blue office. Yet, in S10, he offered the blue office to Pelham no problem. A year later, Kidd is making the laundry room into officer’s quarters because the blue office apparently isn’t an option anymore. The reality is that his apparent preference for Pelham over Hermann and Kidd was really just because it worked for the comedy plot in each of the 3 episodes.

As far as Stella causing the accident in S8, I disagree that if it were anyone else that their job would be at risk. Why would someone lose their job for getting in a car accident in their own vehicle and when they weren’t on the clock? I also don’t get why her ability to lead should be questioned. She wasn’t in a leadership position at that point, unless you’re referring to teaching classes at the academy? She was busting her ass and doing everything she could to keep up. Should she have asked for help and told Boden that it was too much to handle? Absolutely, but she’s human and makes mistakes. She also did learn that lesson and outright said that she now knows her body’s limits and won’t make the same mistakes again. And she hasn’t.

I definitely won’t argue that Stella is one of his favorites, but I just don’t agree with that being an example of him showing favoritism. He certainly favors 51 as a house and 2nd shift over the others at 51, but that’s partly because those are the people we see all the time and the show centers around their perspectives.

This might be a hot take, but I will say that overall it seems like Boden does not have the same level of appreciation and perhaps even respect for Sylvie professionally as he does for other long-running characters. I think a big part of it is actually just that he doesn’t value the paramedics the way he does firefighters, and besides Gabby, he kind of sees them all as the same. His attitude every time there was an opening since Sylvie has been PIC was just “fill it with whoever, it doesn’t matter.”

He supported Hermann, Casey, Kidd, and most recently Joe in professional growth and leadership opportunities, but hasn’t once shown any interest or awareness of professional growth for any of the paramedics. I get that’s because he’s a firefighter, but he constantly calls it his firehouse, so theoretically he should care about all of their careers. It’s really unfortunate that the show focused so intently on Chief Hawkins as just a love interest and chose to use his role as paramedic field chief in a negative way (showing favoritism to Violet, getting blackmailed by Emma, etc.), instead of using him to add more focus to the EMS side of the CFD.

[7ban-sama]

(Sorry if this has already been answered) Do you think Hanako is turning out to become the final antagonist? He's already been one in the pp arc, and doesn't seem like he has any wish to repent his choices. How yandere do you think he will turn out to be?

*waves hand* no need to apologize! I don't believe I've answered a question directly about this.

I kinda see what you're getting at, and, I've even joked about Hanako being 'the antagonist', since we repeatedly need to contest him at the climax of things. In this way, he does function as our antagonist for contained arcs, outright opposing our mains. More fancifully, Hanako is purposefully drawn like a brooding evil vampire, with his big cape and lidded, disdainful expressions, as he stands on rooftops. Menacing aura to him and all that. It's fun it's flirty it's self-aware. (AidaIro-sensei know what they're doing with the framing.)

Though... to clarify, I wouldn't necessarily think about him as 'the final antagonist'... even if we're going to continue to struggle against him. Even as he acts unapologetically, and in some ways, 'gets worse'... It's just ah, not so cut and dry.

In truth, I don't believe that any one character is the antagonist of the entire manga. I feel like the greatest 'evil' is society at large, and compounding with that, we must untangle individual character's resulting complexes stemming from society. It's society that says, kaii and humans cannot co-exist, all kaii are dangerous monsters. This is upheld by the Minamoto clan, and systems in place at the school. There are harsh rules enforced that keep everyone in line. As the rules are upheld, it becomes ingrained as 'fact' in everyone's minds (human and kaii alike) regardless of evidence to the contrary. There's a defeatism from both sides, that they are opposing forces that can never understand one another.

For example, it's the members of the Minamoto clan that look at Hakubo and see nothing but an emotionless monster. Oni are regarded as evil and mindless, because of their harming and consuming humans. Yet, we then also see the human village act savagely, ordering people be slaughtered and keeping young girls as prisoner. Humans harm humans and perpetuate the harm of humans. We even get, from the perspective of Hakubo, the fact that living with them was the same as living with the oni.

(⬆ This is a really important line... I always feel like this is Iro-sensei speaking to us through a megaphone.)

But regardless of how living with oni and humans is the same, the narrative perpetuated is that humans are the ones that are empathetic and capable of kindness, while oni are not. There's no means for Hakubo to reflect on his own experiences as they are happening... Tragically, he cannot contest these claims that oni are monstrous, because the Minamoto make him act monstrously.

Even if he ultimately cared about Sumire, and their relationship was a mutual one, he can't perceive this, because he was taught that it wasn't possible. It's why his own regret mystifies him. Normally, someone could understand that they're filled with regrets, due to having been in love with someone, but he cannot. He cannot recognize his own humanity...

The tale of Hakubo and Sumire really puts a pin in how they could have been happy together, were it not for society around them. This relationship would be seen as abhorrent, and beyond that, they were designated into roles they were never supposed to break free of, regardless of how they felt. Sumire could have sobbed and kicked and screamed about being a kannagi, Hakubo could've resisted being a slave. They both would have been hunted down and punished, equally, for rebellion. It is an unforgiving world. Your greatest opposing force here is society, and then following that, are the issues stemming from it, since these wind up ingrained in Hakubo.

*waves hands around wildly as i try and thread everything* You see, Hakubo and Sumire are a contained narrative that lays out our core conflicts and themes of this manga. This is like, a blueprint for what's going on with Hanako. The world says to Hanako: you're dead, you're a murderer, you can't ever live a normal life. It's impossible. You can't escape. You'll always be a monster. You are, objectively, bad for Nene to be around. If you tried to resist, you'd be put in place.

And Hanako's been in this system for decades by now, so I think it's just gotten to him. So the part 2 of this all is, Hanako himself fully believes he cannot simply love Nene. To Hanako, the identity of 'Yugi Amane' is dead, and what's left behind is warped and inhuman. And much like Hakubo, it's hard to contest this idea, because there's evidence that Hanako is dangerous. He really DID kill Tsukasa. He doesn't think or feel things a normal 13 yo would. All the lying and underhandedness stacks onto this. Doesn't he continue proving this to be true? Endless cycle.

So I suppose, I would specifically say that our final antagonist is... Hanako's self-hatred and inability to express or accept himself... This is what's keeping him from having a happy ending with Nene (and Tsukasa! 💜) and this is what would be the most satisfying to overcome.

With that in mind, as for 'how yandere' I think he will be... Well, imo we all should be hoping that Hanako can go 'all the way' with this side of himself. Through all this tragedy, and even as Hanako acts out... we actually must wish for him to act out MORE. He's not acting out ENOUGH! He should fully lean into his yandere heart!!! He's Not Quite There Yet... but I hope he can get there, someday.

Y'know, it's funny, I do think at his core he doesn't feel sorry for the bad things he's done... Having relished(?) in the shinjuu , and not REALLY feeling sorry for PP/Severance... Perhaps, unreasonably justified about all these actions. Yet also, I wouldn't say he's totally unencumbered by guilt or regrets either? It's complicated. What's going on inside of him, is conflicting, and that's why you see him so troubled, acting in mysterious ways. Confusing ways? I don't entirely doubt the authenticity of Hanako's severity when he is being self-hating and feeling as though he is dangerous. H-hmmm, how to say, it's like there's a Mr. Hyde in there, like 👅 Yeahhhhh I don't give a FUCK... I would DO IT AGAIN... I WANNA PUT YOU IN A BOTTLE... LICK THE OUTSIDE... HRhgiuhrghhhf!!! . and. ... Hanako is, observing his own thoughts/feelings like, 😭 GOD, WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME... [TO HIS LOVED ONES] GET AWAY... BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE......!!!

But what's actually making it worse is that he won't, just, lean into his nature, and be a crazed romantic... He bottles this all up and then it comes out all desperate and unchecked. Hanako is bargaining with his own desires of, nobility and selfishness, and that's what makes things like PP and Severance such a mess. Ultimately it's, neither so noble since he didn't manage to wordlessly, emotionlessly bow out of Nene's life, nor is it as indulgent as making her his forever. But it's like he can't meaningfully conceive of how to do either of these things...

Hanako doesn't want Nene to live in Shijima-san's boundary, he doesn't want her to forget about him, he doesn't want her to grow up and get married without him. He doesn't even want to kill Aoi-!! It's all just a means to an end. It's a half-measure. It perhaps, feels a little better than keeping everything inside, but it doesn't feel as good as rambling like a lunatic and grabbing Nene possessively. Y'know-??? But the glimmers of his true nature we can see through these actions are alluring, it begs for more questions, for further investigation... It makes you want to peel him apart and get the truth to finally leap out. Stop! Holding! Back-!!! (everyone yelling at him)

I think the circumstances that Tsukasa engineers, are DESIGNED to fully unleash Amane... to chip away at him, to force him to inhabit his nature. Hopefully, there'll be a point where it's not even a choice for Amane, he will simply have to act on how he feels. That's the dream.

In summary. I think-? Our GOAL is wanting Hanako to be a yandere, even more of a yandere than ever. He's been too tepid. He's held back too much, still. He hasn't even told Nene he loves her-!! That's crummy for a yandere... We need to get past the obstacles that are impeding his heart. Which are... society, and personal repression. It is those obstacles are 'our enemy'.

[rosedmuse]

impromptus; for harusoie 700 days

The tension veiling upon the crowd around us is somehow intoxicating, every present soul curious as to how this love story's meant to end. Will it be a happily ever after? Or does an epic tragedy await those who step beyond boundaries? They ought to pay their closest attention, if they want to find out.

Today, I finally come home. Finally, I tell myself. Finally free from the many, grueling hours of work and responsibilities and just facing reality head on. To say I feel relieved now, sounds more of an understatement. I can't believe half the year flew by just like that. "Oh, where have you gone, my love?" But before anything else, a street act. I find myself captivated by one. Despite my initial plan of heading straight home to rest and ultimately surprise a certain somebody, that certain somebody in question is instead out here, basking underneath broad daylight, reciting what seemed like a poem created from the very depths his heart. I shake my head, seemingly in response. A voice so sweet yet so filled with patience and longing that all those who hear his plea are bound to succumb to such an honest affection, one way or another. I'm right here, I mentally say; tempted to yell my heart out because of how much I miss everything about him. But I must exercise restrain. There is absolutely no way I'm interrupting him from his moment with, well, his first love. Haruto Asuka's stunning, utterly fabulous as always, rocking any role he so chooses at any time of the day with the raw skills he acquired after overcoming countless breakdowns and self doubts all throughout his acting career. That's my actor right there! Blended subtly within the sea of fan girls and boys and everything in between and not surrounding him, he hasn't noticed my presence. I didn't tell him today's my arrival day back home to him as part of a little surprise. I wonder what he's going to say once he does, or what I'm supposed to do to make him see me. "My heart breaks when you go." Haruto gestures to his chest, his eyes carefully scanning the audience scattered before him, perhaps seeking for a particular person in mind. "My soul aches from being apart, my mind yearns of no other than your name." He learned how to channel his personal sentiments entirely into own his acting without feeling negative anymore, after Twin Kingdoms. You've grown so beautiful, Gen-chan. As I continue watching him throw out more and more romantic lines alongside integrating the few mimes I taught him a while back, I realize once again just how much I'm too in love with this person. His passion is one thing; his personality is another. So are his looks, but even that is a huge bonus. His growth is just one of the many aspects the people around him look up to the most. I say this all the time, I know, but it's the kind of truth I'll never get tired of repeating over and over again. I've quite enjoyed being a spectator and admirer by the sidelines, a rare opportunity I'm willing to grab from time to time, when a new character abruptly enters the scene from out of nowhere. "Behold!" It's Citronia. She certainly just stepped in as if she had grown sick of standing by for her cue, backstage (wherever that is). "Who... Who?" Haruto's reaction accurately captures and embodies everyone else's shock and confusion. "Oh, me? Your fairy godmother!" Citron gracefully waves an invisible wand, taking his wrists and twirls him around in tiny circles. "Now, what you desire, follow me~" Using her hands to gracefully guide his eyes toward my direction, Haruto freezes the moment our gazes lock physically for the first time in many, many months. "No protein~," Citron whispers quietly, her voice ever as calming as a mother's lullaby, before vanishing into the crowd in an eye's blink. As much as any of us silently wish to first comprehend what had just transpired in a mere matter of seconds, all I could think of was how easily Citronia made today even more special for me, at the very least. Speechless is what I am, yes, but truly I love her deeply, and all that she does for meーfor the people she loves ーeven in the simplest of ways, will always be cherished and held dear. Thank you, Your Majesty. Cheeks flushing, eyes tearing up, hearts beating together as one rhythm; I'm sure Haruto thinks the same. I promise we'll treat her out someday, soon. Eventually realizing he still has a performance he needs to conclude, and perhaps, not wanting Her Majesty's efforts be disregarded in vain, Haruto wastes not a moment in rushing towards me, his round eyes growing as round as they can be in a messy mix of shock, anticipation, and excitement. "My... my love," he stammers, his voice faltering so softly, it's almost impossible to figure out the line between all this still being an act or his truest emotions already seeping out, "you, being here, does that mean..." He doesn't hesitate getting down on one knee and offering his hand; the hopeful glint in his face providing a hopeful acceptance of his hopeful intentions. The tension veiling upon the crowd around us is somehow intoxicating, every present soul curious as to how this love story's meant to end. Will it be a happily ever after? Or does an epic tragedy await those who step beyond boundaries? They ought to pay their closest attention, if they want to find out. "I'm never letting you go anymore," Haruto declares, "so from the bottom of my heart, please stay... if you'll have me." But, of course, we aren't going down without a fight. Taking a step forward and swinging my other leg behind me in a tendu, raising my arms into a port de bras, I pretend to give him the answer he so seeks. Just as we practiced, I internally command, keeping my eyes glued onto his, a hint of mischief lingering within them, Swan lake Act III. The Black swan Adage Pas de deux. Haruto breaks into a smile; a smile that many would assume is that of delight, a smile that only a select few would recognize as if to say, I know  what to do, silly. Taking my fingers gently in his, Haruto leans forward to try planting a kiss upon the back of my palm. But just as his lips were about to brush my skin, perfectly in sync with the script, I quickly whip my hand away from him in a playful tease. A series of faint gasps are heard. Now it's my turn to smirk at you, silly. I walk a few steps away from him, ending with a croisé. While I have my back towards him, I allow him a small angle to see the triumphant grin I cannot, try as I might, remove from my face, as I look at him from the side of my head. Mission accomplished. The crowd erupts into a chorus of cheers and multiple rounds of applauses, all the while requesting for some kind of an encore? Is that even possible? Haruto dusts himself a bit once he stands, before we finally, officially, personally meet with a tight hug. Now this is what I call a refreshing way to start the reunion. "Nice impromptu you've done there," Haruto praises into my ear. "More like, an imprompt-two?" I randomly kid. "Or would it actually be an imprompt-three? Considering there were three of us who did one..." He lets out a satisfied laugh before giving our audience the final curtsy they deserve, hand in hand. Forgetting not to highlight as well the significance of our special guestーmore commonly known as Haruto's fairy godmother from now onーand promoting both theater troupes for everyone's never-ending support essential to keeping the future of theater and the arts in general, alive. The sun then shining brighter and warmer than ever, high above the skies.

[nomanslannd]

Ian shifted from his right foot to his left. What did he think of it all? How does one handle finding out his father had another kid --- a biological kid at that. The thing is Ian had never felt like an only child; he always had a sister. He hadn't seen her since he'd left dimension z, but she was always there in the back of his mind. So despite her not being raised by Steve and Sharon; he'd always been a brother.

❛ If I'm being honest, I tend to stay away from this place. ❜ He answered truthfully, but quickly added ❛ not because there's anything wrong with the place. But like you said it's a lot. ❜ A lot of eyes, following his every move, expecting him to be something he wasn't.

❛ It's weird. Not in a bad way... you just look a lot like him. It's uncanny. ❜ He swallowed harshly. Maybe that was the wrong thing to say in the moment, he wasn't sure. Colt was nice, nicer than Ian suspected he would have been if the roles were reserved.

--- That must be Steve Rogers good old' DNA at work.

He pressed his crossed arms to his chest. ❛ How have things being going around here? They treating you okay? ❜ His mind goes back to his tiny one bedroom apartment Brooklyn. It wasn't much, but it had a killer view of the East River from the fire escape. He wouldn't trade it for the world.

❛ Have you been up to the roof yet? I always found it pretty peaceful up there. ❜ Ian had an appreciation from the quiet. He liked finding places where he could go to escape from the world, and just be in silence for a while.

He has so many question's he wants to ask. But stopped himself, letting silence fill the space. He didn't want to come on to strong.

Colt turned when he heard his name, the easygoing smile he often wore slipping into place like second nature. He caught sight of Ian and paused, taking in the sight of the guy who was unmistakably Steve Rogers’ son. Not just because of the resemblance—although it was there—but because of the way Ian carried himself. Like someone who’d seen enough to carry the weight of it without letting it crush him. Colt recognized it because it was something they shared, whether Ian realized it or not.

When Ian extended his hand, Colt didn’t hesitate. His grip was firm, steady, but not overwhelming. A handshake that spoke volumes about the kind of man Colt was. “Ian, huh?” he said, his tone light but warm. “Good to finally meet you.”

Colt let go of his hand, stepping back just slightly to give Ian a bit of space. He could tell this wasn’t exactly Ian’s comfort zone. That awkwardness wasn’t hard to spot, and Colt wasn’t about to make it worse by crowding him.

“Y’know, I wasn’t sure you’d actually show up.” He chuckled, the sound easy but lacking any judgment. “Not because of anything you did or said, just... I get it. This place? It can feel like a lot. More than it needs to, sometimes.”

He gestured vaguely at the HQ around them, the towering walls and the weight they seemed to carry. “But hey, you’re here. That’s more than some people would’ve done.”

Colt leaned against a nearby column, crossing his arms casually as his gaze flicked back to Ian. “So... what do you think? Of all this, I mean?” He tilted his head, motioning at their surroundings. “Because if you’re anything like me, I’m guessing it’s got you feeling... I dunno. Weird. Am I close?”

He grinned, though there was no malice behind it, just an invitation for Ian to ease into the moment at his own pace. “Take your time. No rush. I’m not exactly the king of small talk, either.”

[moemoemammon]

Following that "least favorite" request could we get their reactions to being to told that they're their favorite, but to not tell the other brothers so their feelings don't get hurt? Maybe because they relate to them the most or just get along really well. Thanks!

You're My Favorite! But Don't Tell the Others-

(Feat. GN!MC and the Demon Bros)

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Lucifer

There are no words to explain the overwhelming satisfaction ion Lucifer’s face after you tell him that. Of course, it’s only natural that he would be your favorite, all things considered.

The Avatar of Pride won’t ever forget this moment. He carefully considers your words and agrees not to tell anyone, as much as he’d love to bring it up, because he knows more than anyone what kind of chaos would ensue should the others (especially Mammon) find out.

But they can tell something’s up when the eldest has been heard humming all day. He moves about the house with even more grace than usual, and hasn’t scowled even once.

But the REAL shocker was when Mammon tried hiding a bill right as Lucifer walked in... and the eldest let him off with a warning. A WARNING! The brothers thought the Devildom must’ve frozen over, but you and he knew different.

“MC, I would like you to accompany me to Le Pluvier this afternoon, once you've finished your studies. I've already made reservations, so be sure to get ready on time. I've made sure to consider the things you might like to eat, so I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself. Don't be late." "...I'm grinning? I don't know what you're talking about."

Mammon

The gigantic grin on Mammon’s face is so bright, it could rival the sun. You’ve seriously made his day. No, his year. Actually, he’s pretty sure he could ride this high for the next millennia! There’s nothing in this world that could dampen his spirits right now! 

He feels like he just won big at the casino! Of course he’s your favorite! He WAS your first demon, and now he’s gone and claimed his rightful spot as your number one! Good luck trying to keep him from saying anything. Mammon’s gonna throw it around in everyone’s faces for as long as he can milk it.

And you thought he was clingy before, just wait till you see how he treats you after hearing that. Despite always calling you his ‘servant’ or his ‘human’, you’d  think your roles were reversed. Mammon spoils you every chance he gets, buying you clothes and trinkets, filling the spaces in your room with the things he knows you like, monopolizing you completely until nearly everything you own is a gift from him.

Your words also help soothe that jealousy of his a little. Only a little, though. It’s easier to watch you talk to other demons when he knows he’ll always be your first man.

“Didja really have to stay after class that long? I know you were talkin' to that demon that lent you a book, but you outta ask ME for stuff! Tch... you're lucky I'm in a good mood today! But I guess I don't have to worry about some low level demon like that, seein' as I'm your favorite!"

Levi

Wait wait wait....Come again? Did you seriously just say what he think you said..? That had to be a mistake! Some kind of...uh..verbal typo! Because there’s absolutely, positively, NO WAY in all of the nine layers that he could be your favorite demon. And yet you still insist that you’re telling the truth, and Levi feels like he’s died and gone to heaven. 

Red faced and stammering up a storm, Levi looks like he might die. Is it really okay for a shut-in otaku to feel this giddy? Seriously, he hasn’t felt like this since he got his hands on a signed copy of a Ruri Hana audio drama! No no, this definitely beats that!

You’ve managed to inflate his nearly nonexistent ego, and now he feels like there’s nothing he can’t do! Maybe he could even go to Majolish right now?? THAT’S how good he’s feeling!

Almost as bad as Mammon in keeping it a secret. He doesn’t tell anyone right away, but they’re suspicious when they notice how much time he’s spending out of his room. And then when he and Mammon get in another petty argument, he drops the bomb that he’s your favorite demon in the entire Devildom, and you can guess how things go from there.

“Uuuoooo...!!!!! I've decided..! Since I've got a serious stat buff, I'm going to open a booth at the next convention coming up..! I'll sell my Ruri-chan fan art and spread her influence all over the Devildom! I'd never have the guts to do it normally, but I feel like I could do anything right now! Y-you'll go too, won't you MC?"

Satan

You nearly made this man spit tea all over his book, and now he’s coughing and spluttering and trying to figure out what could’ve prompted what he’s taking as a confession. You.. do realize what you’re saying, don’t you? And you know the kind of effect your words have on him?

Satan isn’t the type that wears his heart on his sleeve, so you have to look for his subtle expressions to tell how he’s feeling. But there’s nothing subtle about the redness of his ears and how he’s begging you not to look at him right now. For the sake of his sanity, give him a minute to recoup.

When he does recover, he agrees to keep it a secret for obvious reasons. And it’s hard to tell that he’s in a good mood, other than the fact that he hasn’t tried to pull any pranks on Lucifer lately. But Asmo sees all, and literally hounds him into spilling the tea.

He tells him a lie of course, but now the other brothers are noticing just how happy he is. Satan's smiling way too much today, isn't he? And he didn't even get mad when Beel got whipped cream on his jacket! Well, not THAT mad, anyway.

"Haaah... everyone's been harassing me all day, claiming I'm smiling a lot. I'm sure I look the same as I always do, but I'll admit that I've been happy ever since you told me that this morning. Wait.. you did think I've been grinning too, do you? I have??"

Asmo

Asmo always jokes about being your favorite and announces it as if the two of you are married, but when you actually confirm that his longing for you isn’t one sided, he ends up smearing lip balm across his cheek in shock. Did you... really say that just now? He knew it all along, but hearing it like that is just...!

Ooooh, he’s so happy he can hardly contain himself! Asmo throws his arms around you, peppering your face in kisses until you feel sticky from lip balm, wipes your face clean, then marks it up all over again. Good luck getting rid of him, because he might never let go.

Immediately posts it to Devilgram. Did you really think he’d let such a momentous occasion go unannounced? You must not have been paying attention to the kind of person he is! Asmo would put you on a pedestal in front of the world like a precious jewel if he were able, but this’ll have to do. He won’t hide his love at all!

Of course, the others don’t take too kindly to it, not that he cares. He never leaves your side, pampers you like crazy, and has even attempted to get you to move into his room. Lucifer put an immediate stop to that, though. Boo...

“I just can't get enough of you, MC! Just being near you gets me so excited that I can hardly stand it! You'll take responsibility for what you're doing to me, won't you? And in exchange, I'll take my time showing you just how much I love you. After all, you're my favorite, too!"

Beel

Beel never has a problem with choking while he eats, and it comes as naturally as breathing. Unfortunately neither of that applies right now, since you just made him choke on a meatball sub.

He usually takes your words with quiet acceptance, but this might be the most emotion you've ever witness from the stoic demon. His eyes are wider than that time that laid on an entire gingerbread mansion, sparkling up with such deep emotion you wouldn't be surprised if he cried. Instead he softens up and immediately embraces you.

...And doesn't let go. Sandwich long forgotten, he's been carrying you around all day, and ignoring any questions or protests from his brothers. Also insists on feeding you throughout the day. The food tastes better when he can enjoy it with you, so why not just bring you everywhere?

When he isn't carrying you, he's following you around subconsciously, either close up against you like a protective wall, or just far enough that you're within his line of sight. As far as not telling anyone, he... tells Belphie immediately. It was an accident though, since there's not much he keeps from his twin.

"MC, I won a meal ticket for Godevil Chocolatier. Let's get something for dessert today. Ah, you can get as much as you want, too. I really want to see what things you choose. They might become my favorites."

Belphie

There's nothing in this world that can wake Belphegor from his sleep, unless he allows it. No loud noises, no amount of shaking or smacking, and not even dragging him around the house. But the moment you whisper that he's your favorite demon, the Avatar of Sloth is wide awake.

Hey, you're not just saying weird things to get a reaction, are you? Because if so, this is a new level of cruel. Yet you confirm that you mean it and swear him into secrecy, and Belphie tries his best not to show how happy he is. A smile keeps creeping up on his face that he struggles to force down. It's annoying...

As funny as it’d be to tell everyone the news, he's good at keeping secrets. Instead, you've noticed that he's been sleeping a little less that before. When he does take one of his hundreds of naps, he finds some way to be closer to you. He's even been seen sleepwalking to your exact location somehow-

It's hard for him to believe that you're not teasing, though. How could HE be your favorite demon here? Belphie doesn't do anything special to win you over, yet after everything he put you through, you like him enough to deep him your favorite?

"You're weird, MC. I mean... me? I won't deny that I'm really happy though, but I guess I'm in disbelief. You should spoil me even more until I believe you. Lend me your lap for a few hours, okay?" "...I wonder what Lucifer would think if I told him, heheh."

[herinsectreflection]

The hilarious part about Faith and how incredibly gay she comes across is that it's all a natural side-effect of her intended narrative role. According to Whedon she wasn't intentionally written to be a queer or even queer-coded character, but the way she is written and her metaphorical function necessarily meant she came across as queer-coded. I'll explain what I mean:

1) As Buffy's shadow, Faith is meant to be symbolic of Buffy's repressed desires, and specifically her frustrated sexuality. Buffy is dealing with imposed chastity throughout S3, first with her trauma over Angel getting in the way of a relationship with Scott, and then the curse preventing her from being physical with Angel. It's the centre point of Enemies, its touched on in Amends, and is one of the reasons they break up. There's a reason the season climaxes with Angel and Buffy in a passionate embrace, making orgasm faces as he 'penetrates' her. It's a whole season of sexual frustration for Buffy.

Faith needs to be constantly reminding Buffy of the thing she can't have - sex. She needs to talk about sex to Buffy - and she does, extensively. Faith is written as a very sexual person in general, but it's specifically and disproportionately aimed towards Buffy, because that's her narrative role. So you end up with this character who is constantly going around like "hey Buffy do you like sex? you should think about sex now. sex. when I'm on screen the main thing on your mind should be sex and having it". Which begs the question - why does Faith want Buffy to have sex? Symbolically, it's because she represents part of Buffy, and Buffy wants to have sex. But on a pure character level... what is the explanation? What is motivating Faith to constantly talk about sex to Buffy? A few instances you can write off as her making Buffy uncomfortable for jokes, but not all of them. How it comes across is that Faith has some sexual interest in Buffy, and is probing for her feelings.

2) Faith is a Seductress. That's not a comment about her character, that's her function in the story. She is the version of Buffy who goes down a darker path, and is trying to seduce her into doing the same thing. Part of Buffy's arc in S3 is resisting this temptation, and the symbol of what she is resisting is Faith. So Faith must be an enticing, seductive figure. To quote Passion of the Nerd's review, if Faith is there to to tempt Buffy into a moral dark side, it only makes sense that she is, well, tempting. The seduction is happening on many levels.

Faith is more or less filling the Femme Fatale archetype: the seductive, sexual figure who leads the Hero off their path. It's a trope you see all the time in male-led stories, going back to goddamn The Odyssey. Buffy as a character was invented as a simple gender-swap of an old horror trope, and part of the appeal of the show is that she gets to fill the role of The Hero as a woman. So what happens when you gender-swap The Hero and don't gender-swap the Femme Fatale? You get a gay story, that's what.

3) The Faith arc of S3 is a recreation of the Angel arc of S2. It is structured in the exact same way, with the two having a push-and-pull in the early parts of the season, a setback in their relationship in episode 7, getting closest again mid-season before a night of passion that ends in sudden tragedy. Angel/Faith then turn to the dark side, become the Big Bad, and show that they are beyond saving in episode 17. The season ends with Buffy having to fight and the kill them in order to save others. This is all an intentional recycling, as part of the show building up the Trolley Problem and the idea of Buffy being a killer, repeatedly escalating it to get us to The Gift. What this means is that Faith steps into the role that Buffy's love interest played in the previous season. This is the story that we have just had told to us as a tragic love story. We see it again, and guess what? It's still a tragic love story. Only now Faith is in the role of the love interest.

4) Part of the conflict surrounding Buffy and Faith is Buffy's fear of being "Single White Female'd". She fears Faith might steal her loved ones, and Faith does threaten that. She gets along with her mother, her friends... but most of all, her love interests. Buffy's fear of being replaced manifests as Faith trying to literally seduce away anyone romantically linked to Buffy. Angel, Scott Hope, Xander, later Riley, Spike, Robin Wood... Faith is comprehensively and exclusively attracted to men that Buffy dated. I'm honestly surprised she didn't find Owen and Parker from somewhere for a night in the sack. Again, this makes perfect heterosexual sense from a symbolic point it view - she threatens to take Buffy's place in the narrative, so she takes her place in relationships - but on a character level it becomes ambiguous. Is she actively trying to replace Buffy? Or is she trying to stop Buffy dating anyone for another reason? The simple fact is, there is exactly one common denominator with all of Faith's romantic entanglements: Buffy.

It's a canonical aspect of Faith's character that she is jealous of Buffy. We see that made explicit in Enemies - she's jealous of everything Buffy has: her family, her comfortable home life, her friends, her narrative standing, and of course her loving partners. So of course Faith displays jealousy whenever Buffy is involved with a guy. It's a necessary part of building Faith as this figure of Want and Envy. But how it plays out on screen isn't that Faith is jealous of Buffy because she wants these other guys - of course not, because we see her look jealously through the window at Buffy and Riley in This Year's Girl and Riley obviously means nothing to her. Rather, it very much appears that she is jealous of these other guys, because she wants Buffy.

There's also the added bonuses that come from the show playing with so many metaphors, that sometimes they cross in interesting ways. One of Faith's main purposes is to celebrate being a Slayer, and to encourage the same in Buffy. She wants Buffy to accept and embrace being a Slayer. Here, Slayerhood is standing in for independence and hedonism and making your own rules, all the things that Faith is encouraging. But one of the many other metaphors used is the 'coming out' metaphor. "Have your tried not being a slayer?" "It's because you didn't have a strong father figure isn't it." "I've tried to march in the Slayer Pride parade." It's a note that's hit really hard specifically around the time in the show that Faith is introduced. So if you carry this metaphor on, then Faith becomes an out-and-proud lesbianSlayer, trying to convince Buffy to accept and embrace her sexuality.

And it has a recursive effect too. All this stuff contributes towards Faith feeling like a very queer character. And Faith, of course, is Buffy's shadow self, meant to represent her unconscious desires. So when the symbol of your unconscious desires is so lesbian-coded, then the implication becomes that one of your unconscious desires is lesbian desire. Faith's existence as a part of Buffy implies the existence of Buffy's bisexuality. Which contributes to the relationship feeling ever more queer, which makes Faith even gayer.

I find this absolutely hilarious, because the queer subtext was never intended. Joss Whedon apparently was annoyed that people read this into their relationship, and the commentary from the other writers that does address it tends to point to Dushku's performance. And yeah, she is definitely leaning into that in her portrayal. But the main reasons that so many people have this reading all come from the writing. It's all stuff that is integral to the point of her character. Every metaphor and function in the narrative, every symbolic purpose she has, none of it was meant to be gay and yet it all leads directly to Faith appearing to be totally and completely gay. The queerness is accidental and unavoidable. And I just find that really fucking funny.

[nowritingonthewall]

What are your must see oscar things that new fans should watch?

Hi Nonnie,

Welcome to the Oscar fandom, please take a seat, have some cookies & some brownies and a hot beverage of your choice 🥰

Oh my, I am afraid the only correct answer to your question is: All of them!!! Oscar is such a talented and skilled and amazing actor and his filmography covers so many different characters and there isn’t a single role in which he doesn’t shine, even if the rest of the movie may not.

It’s literally impossible to choose (and of course, the answer may be highly dependent on your personal preferences), but I am going to try anyway 😊

Since you said that you are new to the fandom, I am going to assume that you discovered him via his incredible performance as sweet and adorable Steven and that you haven’t seen any of his other roles yet. So…

This may be extremely slightly biased because I love him so much, but I have to start with Poe Dameron! I know, I know, the Star Wars Sequels are probably among the most hated movies of this century and sadly the fandom can be a very toxic place. However, once you get past that (and the homophobia and the racism and the misogyny and all the missed opportunities, yeah I am sorry, it really does sound bad, doesn’t it), Poe is one of the most lovable characters you’ll ever meet! People keep saying that all Oscar had to do was to have great hair and look insanely hot pretty (which he did, of course) and the movies certainly don’t come close to displaying even a fraction of his acting abilities, but I’d say that a lot of what made Poe such a warm and caring and lovable character can actually be attributed to what Oscar brought to this role! And speaking from experience, you certainly don’t have to be a die hard Star Wars fan to enjoy the movies (I’d even say that it might actually help to approach them without any expectations)! Plus, the Poe fans on tumblr are literally some of the nicest people in the galaxy! I am so sorry, I’ve started to ramble, I’ll try to keep it shorter from here on.

Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia (Triple Frontier): You may have noticed the fans on tumblr lovingly calling him Santi during the Moon Knight press events, which already shows how much the fans love this character. Frankly, his beautiful booty alone should have won all the awards, given how hard it was acting in this movie. At its core it’s a heist movie about five total idiots former soldiers that’s actually really fun to watch. And even if you don’t immediately fall in love with Santi, there are several other men to fill that void. Plus, we get to see Oscar acting alongside his space sister Pedro Pascal!

Llewyn Davis (Inside Llewyn Davis): Sweet and grumpy folk musician Llewyn. Oscar himself said that this role made him feel like he was being re-born. It was certainly the first movie in which he could really flex his acting muscles and boy, did he rise to the occasion! Plus, we get to hear him sing AND show of his incredible guitar skills, which would actually be enough of a reason to watch this movie.

Nathan Bateman (Ex Machina): This is kind of a classic even beyond the Oscar fandom and the famous dancing scene would make it worth watching alone. Apart from that, I think that it’s an excellent psychological thriller with fictional elements that aren’t even that fictional at all. (Plus, if you’ve seen Star Wars, you’ll get to see Poe and Hux again.) And once you have realized that Nathan isn’t the arsehole that he pretends to be, you’ll be glad to find out that there are a lot of wonderful writers on tumblr who are incredibly talented at exploring his softer side! *glances totally inconspicuously towards @writefightandflightclub*

Mikael Boghosian (The Promise): This is probably one of Oscar’s hardest and most heart-breaking movies to watch because it deals with the Armenian Genocide. Oscar’s character is the very definition of a good and decent man and you can tell how everyone involved really cared about the absolutely devastating human tragedy that made up the heart of this film, instead of just using it as a background to move along the love story.

Peter Malkin (Operation Finale): Similarly as hard to watch (though for entirely different reasons) as The Promise because it explores the aftermath of the Holocaust. It is based on the real life events surrounding the capture of Adolf Eichmann and Oscar was absolutely fantastic!

Leto Atreides (Dune): I have to admit that I haven’t read the books, so I can’t personally say how true the movie was to the original material, but the cinematography alone is simply breathtaking! The people who were most disappointed with this movie were probably the ones who expected this to be some kind of homage to Star Wars, which it definitely is not! No matter how many General Poe fantasies may come out of watching Duke Leto in action. If you know the story, you’ll know that the ending is devastating but Oscar as Leto was beyond amazing!

Abel Morales (A Most Violent Year): This movie is intense and Oscar’s acting is as well, even if we don’t actually see a lot of action (I am sorry, this will totally make sense once you have watched this movie).

Rydal Keener (The Two Faces of January): Rydal is definitely one of Oscar’s more underappreciated roles. He is an actual sweetie who just happens to have made the odd not-so-good choice in his life. And the scenery of the movie is really beautiful!

William Tell (The Card Counter): There are many fans of Oscar who didn’t like this movie, but even if it may not be your cup of tea, I can only encourage you to watch it at least once, because Oscar’s acting was so incredible! (A word of caution, though: there are several scenes that are very violent and may be triggering or disturbing to some people.)

Jonathan (Scenes from a Marriage): Not a movie but a mini series that’s based on the famous series by Ingmar Bergman. This one kind of split the fandom. Some loved it, others hated it. While I can’t compare it to the original series, I can say that it is definitely very painful and heart-breaking to watch. And the acting by both Oscar and Jessica Chastain was out of this world.  

Nick Wasicsko (Show Me a Hero): Speaking of mini series, Show Me a Hero is an absolute must-watch! If you happen to know the story of Nick Wasicsko, then you’ll know that the ending is utterly heart-breaking. Oscar was so amazing (I am sorry, I am kind of saying that about every role that he played) and he more than earned winning the Golden Globe for his performance!

Richard Alonso Muñoz (The Letter Room): A short film that was directed by his wife Elvira and also features his brother Michael – basically a family production. Richard is literally one of the sweetest men on this planet and I’d say it is absolutely impossible to not fall in love with him.

Uhm, okay, I’ve tried to keep it down to his larger roles and the list is probably way too long already, but if you happen to really fall in love with Oscar and his acting, you definitely should check out some of his smaller roles:

Michael Perry (Won’t Back Down)

Reeves (10 Years)

Orestes (Agora)

Sgt. Kane (Annihilation)

Evgeni Kolpakov (W.E.)

And my very dear Outcome 3 (or as his fans like to call him: David) (The Bourne Legacy)

I am sorry, I really tried to keep it short 😆 If you’re actually still reading, I hope that you have a most lovely and amazing day 🥰

[seijorhi]

To the Wolves

my (first) entry for the Deal With the Devil collab, because i couldn’t resist writing for Yakuza Getou <33

Getou Suguru x Female Reader

TW Extremely dubious consent, coercion, manipulation, threats, implied murder, smut, nsfw

“No. I- I won’t.”

Sitting comfortably on the old, worn couch in your cramped little apartment, Getou raises a single eyebrow, “Oh? Is that so?”

His voice is perfectly pleasant, the smile on his face a touch amused, but you’re not so naive as to believe that the question is anything but a generous offer for you to rethink your reply. A smart person would take it – since the day you’d first arrived home to find him waiting for you, Getou hadn’t so much as laid a finger on you. He had no need for guns or knives, never shouted or bullied you, his reputation more than enough to cow you into submission before he’d even opened his mouth.

Of course, once he had, the simple threats to your friends and family’s lives had made certain that you were more than amenable to his request.

A mutually beneficial arrangement, he’d called it, as if there hadn’t been tears silently streaming down your face, your whole body stiff with fear. 

But that was the world he came from. Violence and ruthlessness, cruelty masquerading as kindness.

By all accounts, someone like you – a lowly admin assistant living a very boring, mundane life – should never have crossed paths with a man like Getou. The irony, of course, being that it was precisely because of your job that he’d been drawn to you in the first place. 

“I-I said no,” you stammer. “I’m not doing it.”

Getou sighs, long, pale fingers idly fixing the cuff of his left sleeve. “I had no idea the lives of your loved ones meant so little to you.”  

“Please, I-” you break off, biting your lip as your hands curl into useless fists at your side, “I can’t. Anything else, I’ll do anything, I swear it, just… please.”

Men like Getou aren’t the type to be swayed by pretty words or tearful pleas, but there’s an unmistakable glimmer of interest that flickers in his eyes at the offer. Casually, he leans forward, resting his chin on the palm of his hand and regarding you with a smirk. “So you’ll bring me the list of witnesses then?”

The barely audible hitch in your breath is enough to make him chuckle.

“No? How about those surveillance tapes, hm?” Smoothly, he rises to his feet and makes his way towards you. “Careful, little one, first rule of negotiation is knowing when you have something to bargain with. Don’t promise me what you can’t give.”

“Getou–”

He raises a hand and you quickly fall silent. There’s only inches between you two now, Getou’s taller, broader frame looming over yours. He could kill you like this, you realise with panic – reach out and wrap his hands around your throat and snap your pretty little neck before you could so much as scream. The tailored line of his jacket hides the gun he has holstered at his side, but Getou knows you're aware of its presence, have been since the very first time he’d broken into your home and threatened you. 

It’d take him only moments to draw the sidearm, even less for him to pull the trigger.

The walls of your apartment are thin, would your neighbours come if they heard gunfire? Would you, for that matter, if your roles were reversed?

Yet Getou makes no move for his gun, instead reaching for your chin, tilting it up with two curled fingers until you meet his gaze, “You understand, don’t you, that I make one phone call and that charming sister of yours and her fiance meet a very tragic, very untimely end?”

He pauses, waiting until you jerk a quick nod of assent before continuing. “You love them. There’s nothing wrong with that, nothing wrong with prioritising the ones you love over everybody else.” His voice is gentle, but the words make you shake, dread rising from the pit of your stomach as the pad of his thumb grazes over your bottom lip. 

You don’t know if you’re supposed to say something to that, but even as you try, you can’t summon the words. The by now familiar scent of his cologne tickles your nose and invades your throat, the warmth of his touch burning through your veins. Your own heart hammers like a drumbeat in your chest, every cell in your body screaming danger, but you don’t run, you don’t even flinch.

Getou smiles kindly, and perhaps if you hadn’t seen first hand the aftermath of his handiwork you might be tempted to believe it. His spare hand reaches into his jacket, but instead of the gun you’re expecting, he pulls out his phone, the screen flickering to life with a swipe of his finger. “So tell me, before I make a call you and I both know you don’t want me to make, why you’ve suddenly decided that their lives aren’t worth your compliance?”

Nanami. Your boss’s face flashes to your mind, the odd, fleeting glances he’d sent your way over the past few weeks when he’d thought you weren’t paying attention. Your stomach erupts with butterflies, your cheeks unwittingly warming, but you just shake your head, “If I give you those files, you’ll kill them. You’ll hurt them.”

“Maybe,” he hums, “maybe not. It’s no less than those monkeys deserve, don’t you think?” He spits the word like it’s venom, the twitch in his jaw the only chink in his otherwise effortless composure. “You’re protecting them, even now.”

You make no attempt to defend yourself, terrified of saying the wrong thing and setting him off, but Getou seems entirely unfazed, laughing coldly at your stricken expression.

“Your boss, the one with the perpetual stick up his ass; Nanami,” potent disdain drips from his tone at the name, “Always so morally righteous, sitting up on his high horse. You think he cares for you, that he’ll protect you when all of this comes out? And it will come out eventually,” he says, his smirk widening at the sudden pallor in your face. “At some point there’ll be one too many unfortunate coincidences, and the higher ups will realise that they have a mole in their ranks. Fingers will be pointed of course, but eventually even those idiots will figure it out.”

A knot tightens inside of your chest at his words, constricting until it feels like you can’t breathe. You’re shaking your head, eyes filling with tears, “N-no–”

“Oh, little one,” Getou murmurs, dark eyes drinking in every ounce of your distress. “Surely you realised that they have security cameras covering every inch of your floor? There was no reason to look before, but once they do…” he trails off, letting go of your chin in favour of brushing the back of his knuckles along your cheek. “They’ll throw you to the wolves.”

His voice is soft and cruel, belied by the gentleness of his touch, but it does nothing to quell the rising sense of dread inside of you. You want to believe it’s a lie, another threat meant to scare you into submission, but some deeper part of you recognises the truth in his words. 

Nanami, who’d told you once that there was innocence and there was guilt and very little in between. Nanami, whose office you’d bugged, whose trial only weeks ago you’d all but derailed with a few misplaced documents. You think back to the late nights shared in his office, bowls of ramen and case files scattered across the desk between you. You think of the rare smiles, his oddly dry sense of humour, the pleasant fluttering in your heart–

“You’ll rot in prison long before I do, and there is not a soul among that insipid bunch that would lift a finger to stop that from happening to you.” 

A soft, strangled noise leaves your lips as you fight not to sob, and Getou sighs, the corners of his lips twitching downwards in contrived sympathy. “Say the word and I’ll walk away tonight. I’ll still have to kill your sister – I am a man of my word, you understand – but I promise it’ll be the last you see of me.”

He slides his phone back into the breast pocket of his jacket, taking your face in both of his hands as tears spill down long lashes. “And when they come for you, you can tell them I threatened you, show them what little proof you have – if you have any at all. Maybe it’ll even make a difference,” he says. “But I doubt it.”

Every word is like a knife, slicing away at the raw, bleeding, vulnerable parts of you.

“Please…” It’s weak and desperate, your voice cracked and broken. You don’t even know what you’re begging for anymore; your sister’s life, for Getou’s mercy, or maybe just for him to stop saying such awful things. He must take pity on you though, because he sighs once more, his right thumb sweeping across your wet cheek to brush away silvery tear tracks. 

“I’m not a complete monster, you know. I protect what’s mine.”

And in one breath, everything screeches to a standstill and a trickle of very real fear creeps down your spine. There’s no mistaking his implication, not when he’s holding your face like that, his eyes dark and simmering with an intensity that makes your stomach flip.

“W-what?”

Getou closes the gap between you two, a startled noise leaving your lips as his hips press flush up against you. “Don’t play stupid, sweet thing,” he murmurs, and it sounds like a warning, “It doesn’t suit you.”

One hand slips to your neck, the other curling almost possessively around your waist. There’s no room for you to move, to back away or free yourself. For a moment, neither of you speak, the heavy silence deafening between you.

Does he notice the way your pulse races under his fingertips as they circle your throat, how you’re shaking like a leaf beneath him? Does he want you afraid? A scared little bunny rabbit cowering from the gaping maw of the big, bad wolf? 

Judging from the bulge of his semi-hard cock pressing into the soft flesh of your belly, he’s not entirely unaffected, and for the first time it’s not Getou’s gun or his threats that you’re most afraid of. 

It’s the selfish, twisted want that glitters and glints in those pitiless depths. You’ve never felt so entirely at somebody else’s mercy as you do with Getou now, staring you down like he wants to lay you bare, claim you again and again for all the world to see. And you don’t understand. There’s a thousand and one questions running through your mind, your insides twisted up into knots. 

You know what it is he’s asking of you – though asking feels like a generous word when he can so easily just take – but none of this makes sense, not when he was threatening your family’s lives only minutes ago. 

As if he can sense the turmoil and confusion raging through you, he leans down, his lips ghosting over the outer shell of your ear. “Tell me to stop, and I’ll walk away right now.”

I am a man of my word. 

His earlier statement rings through your head as you search his face for any sign of deception – you find none. But walking away means your sister dies. It means you’re left on your own to fend off the wolves when they find out what you’ve done.

Nanami might believe you. He might even defend you, but you’ve worked in the Prosecutor’s office long enough to know that duress isn’t the bulletproof defence people think it is, and for tangling with the likes of him…

You were screwed the moment he showed up in your living room, this- this is just the coup de grâce. The final damnation.

“Why me?” 

Getou doesn’t answer, but when he draws you into a kiss, his lips moving torturously slow against yours, there’s an edge of… something there, lying hidden just beneath the surface. And it terrifies you, more than his words and his promises ever could.

But when your back’s to the wall, what choice do you really have?

It feels like defeat when he takes you by the hand and leads you into your bedroom, ignoring the uncertain glance you cast over your shoulder towards the living room. You don’t want any of this, but you can pretend that it’s just… business if he fucks you out there.

Not in the bed you sleep in.

It’d be easier, you think, if it was cold and impersonal. If you cried and it stung and the only sounds in the room were flesh hitting flesh, ragged breathing and an occasional rough grunt.

There’s nothing impersonal about the way he watches you strip out of your clothes at his command. His own join yours on the floor without much ceremony – his gun pointedly set just within reach atop your nightstand.

The first time you’d laid eyes on Getou Suguru, it was two months into your new job; a photograph pinned to a thick, heavy file Nanami had dropped on your desk. A surveillance picture, you’d gathered, snapped as the man was exiting some neon lit club downtown. And you remembered the smug smirk he’d had, staring directly down the lens of the camera like it was a challenge, but that wasn’t what had struck you most.

It was the flutter of interest that’d shot through your veins the moment before common sense kicked in. Tall and fit, with long, dark hair swept up in the wind, a sharp jaw and a handsome face, you remember thinking he was probably the most attractive man you’d ever seen.

Now, standing naked before you, bright, colourful tattoos inked across his torso, accentuating the muscles that rise and fall with every measured breath, you can’t bear to look. It’s easier just to stare at the wooden floorboards, the corner of the shagged rug you’d bought at a thrift store when you first moved in. Easier to pretend Getou isn’t pulling you closer once more, pressing searing, open mouthed kisses along your neck, murmuring words that are lost to you entirely as his hands wander. You can feel it now, the heat of his body as he cages you in, his cock, thick and heavy and flushed nudging insistently up against your stomach.

You expect him to shove you to your knees, to force his cock down your throat in some archaic show of dominance before he claims your cunt, but he doesn’t. 

“I want you to touch yourself for me,” he whispers into your ear, teeth catching lightly on the sensitive lobe as you shiver. “Like you do when I’m not here, those pretty legs spread, fucking yourself on your fingers…”

The comment feels too familiar to be entirely offhanded, striking a chord of panic somewhere deep inside of you–

But it doesn’t make a difference. It doesn’t matter now.

You allow him to kiss you again before climbing onto the mattress. Like a good girl, you fall back onto the pillows, let your legs ease apart, wrapping your lips around two fingers and sucking for a brief moment before gliding your hand down between your thighs. 

His breath hitches, a soft curse sounding when saliva slicked digits spread your folds, the tip of your middle finger brushing lightly against your clit as you stroke your pussy. Your nipples harden and peak under the cool night air and you use your free hand to palm at your breast, pinching and teasing at the sensitive bud while one finger slips into the warmth of your cunt. 

The mattress dips, Getou climbing onto the bed, settling himself back on his knees, your spread legs either side of him.

“Beautiful,” he breathes. 

Your heart stutters, movements jerking as you brace for him to interfere, to touch you, but aside from nudging your thighs further apart to get a better view of your glistening cunt, he seems content simply to sit back and watch, his own hand lazily stroking at his cock.

Trying in vain to block him out, you squeeze your eyes shut and focus on the way your fingers feel between your legs, the pleasure–

 (Not the shame, don’t think about that, don’t think about Getou watching you debase yourself for his enjoyment)

–that pools in your core as you rub the shining pearl of your clit. It’s a familiar dance, a routine you’d normally help along with a glass of wine and a few faithful toys, but you don’t exactly have that luxury here.

And even with the rigid tension in your shoulders, the unwanted presence of a man you’re terrified of impossible to ignore, you can’t help the quiet moan that slips past your lips, the way your hips stutter, grinding against the heel of your palm as your fingers hit that sweet, delightful spot inside of you. 

Getou tenses at the sound, the last, fragile thread of his composure snapping–

He strikes fast. One moment you’re biting down on your bottom lip, your index and middle fingers knuckle deep in your dripping pussy, the next he’s braced atop you, one hand locked around your wrist, the other propping himself up. And as your eyes fly open with a startled cry, his lips crash against your once more – desperate and ravenous, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth to taste you.

And you don’t fight it when he pulls your hand from your pussy and drags it to his crotch, his fingers entwining with yours as he wraps them around his heavy, throbbing cock and moans. It’s humiliating, the way he thrusts into your hand, tightening his grip so you’re forced to feel every shivery twitch of his dick while he sucks eagerly on your tongue.

This is the choice you’d made, the deal you struck. It’s too late to back out now, and even if you tried to… 

“I want you,” he pants, his lips glistening with saliva, an almost manic look in those dark, pretty eyes, “to ride me.”

… you’re not so sure Getou would let you.

So you allow yourself to be manhandled, lifted and situated across his lap like a doll. Hands braced on his tattooed chest, you lift your hips just enough for him to guide his cock to your slick entrance before slowly sinking down onto his length.

Every inch hurts. 

It doesn’t make it any less painful, the way Getou soothes you, his thumbs stroking gently at your waist as you whine and mewl, feeling every ridge and vein of his cock as he stuffs you full.

“Fuck– good girl, taking me so well,” he purrs.

You’re not sure if it’s shame, pleasure, or some sense of twisted pride at the praise that has your pussy clenching, fire racing through your veins when Getou experimentally rocks his hips upwards. And if your cheeks weren’t already burning, the lewd moan that escapes you when the head of his cock hits your g-spot would certainly do the trick. 

Ever observant, he wastes no time capitalising on your slip, lifting you up just to drive you back down onto his length at the perfect angle. You shudder around him, keening out a cry that has him groaning in pleasure.

There’s no illusion of control here between you two.

You might be the one on top, but Getou’s grip’s too tight, guiding every roll of your hips against his, his own rising in time to fuck his cock deeper into your warm, velvety cunt. And somewhere distantly you recognise that this could be a thousand times worse. How easily he could change the narrative in a heartbeat, flip you over, force your face into the pillows and fuck you like a dog until you’re gasping for air. He could use you, hurt you, probably kill you without ever needing to touch the gun he’d left on your nightstand – and you wouldn’t have a hope in hell of stopping him.

But he doesn’t. Lying back against your pillows, dark hair falling from his half up-do, cheeks flushed from exertion, Getou’s attention is wholly fixed on you - on your face, eyes screwed shut, bottom lip caught between your teeth as he hits somewhere deep inside of you that has you seeing stars, on your tits, the way they bounce every time you sink back down onto his cock.

His eyes are hooded, dark and intense, searching for every hint of pleasure he’s drawn from you. You gasp his name, fingers digging into his chest, your cunt fluttering so deliciously around him – and he loses that last little bit of his self control. 

He jerks upright, one arm wrapping around your waist to anchor you to him as he braces himself with the other, and before you can so much as gasp his mouth is at your tits, hot tongue laving at soft, supple skin there.

“Suguru,” he growls, hips snapping feverishly against yours. 

“Suguru,” you parrot, head lolling back as heat coils tighter in your core. 

You’ll worry about the consequences later, when he pulls you boneless and sated into his arms and you feel his heart thumping at your back as he kisses you and tells you to sleep. When tomorrow you arrive at work and Nanami stares a beat too long as the love bites scattered across your throat, no doubt wondering why you won’t so much as look at him.

For now, you settle for pulling him closer, gasping as you chase that quaking, blissful end.

[probably-haven]

Kaeya Alberich & Why his Failure is Inevitable

A theory on Kaeya’s reaction to- that event in his backstory.

take everything with a grain of salt , because it’s heavily based on assumptions, most of which are centered around his reaction to- backstory stuff, so gonna put that under the cut-. i actually originally said this in a reblog to someone asking the exact question awhile ago

im kinda in a content drought though so i might as well bring it back, hopefully some people find it interesting in this context though. Lol a lot of it is just seeing how angsty i can make it too so- ehe

actual content under the cut: (spoilers for kaeya’s backstory, diluc’s backstory, Khaenri’ah lore, and a bit of Childe’s backstory)

so the exact verbiage used in kaeya’s story for his reaction to Master Crepus’s death is: “Even someone like Master Crepus would submit to such a dangerous and evil power…” Sinister thoughts flashed through Kaeya’s mind, and he simply smirked— “This world is truly… fascinating.”

-

Now I’m actually pretty sure this quote ties in, not to the destruction of khaenri’ah, but to the cataclysm before it. Specifically, it deals with the Khaenri’ahn alchemist Gold who started it.

Canonically, Gold was an incredibly ambitious alchemist specializing in khemia 500 years ago. Their most well know achievement is corruption of the dragon Durin, but concealed much deeper in Teyvat’s history, a number of Gold’s legacies include incorporating the powers of the abyss into their alchemy(and eventually being corrupted by those very same powers, tho it might be a translation error), followed by the destruction of Khaenri’ah’s Eclipse Dynasty(including the royal family and the royal guards tasked with protecting the people of Khaenri’ah), and this was followed shortly by ‘using their talents to create an army of “shadowy monsters."’

these monsters, blood filled with the corruption of the abyss, would only continue pouring out of Khaenri’ah in waves until the fateful day that it was destroyed. The era of suffering these monsters caused would come to be known as the cataclysm.

-

taking those facts into account, it could be a remark about how even someone as kind hearted as Master Crepus could fall to the temptation and corrupting aspects of power that caused his people’s fall so long ago, even without the naturally corruptive effects of power from the abyss. that’s sad- but if you get into the theory of it its even sadder the further you go.

Now theory wise its important to make a few connections- I am under the impression that the “fall of the Eclipse Dynasty” that Gold caused through abyssal power was actually the first instance of Khaenri’ah’s curse, and the monsters of the cataclysm- were among the curse’s first victims.

a bit sadder with the fact that his statement can now refer to his feelings of there truly being nothing that could have been done to prevent the very same exact curse that has caused him so much suffering through his life. There was no resisting the corruption of power, only delaying it. It hammers in the fact that the reason he was sent to Mondstadt truly might be the destiny he had many times been told it was. A cruel joke from Celestia perhaps?

but not sad enough. let’s pull out the big one. The Khaenri’ahn Royalty Kaeya theory. (there’s a lot- im not gonna cover the explanation behind that one here)

Gold, the most powerful alchemist in Khaenri’ah would likely have worked under the Eclipse Dynasty, so assuming the theory of Kaeya(and Dainsleif) being the last member of the Eclipse Dynasty, its reasonable to say he would have known Gold. Now whether Gold was a good person or not is irrelivant because it remains the same either way. Kaeya has twice seen the corrupting abilities that come with power strip him of all those close to him, shouldering him with an additional responsibility to carry out in their memory that he never wanted. Yes this hurts more if he was close with Gold and Crepus managed to make him feel safe enough to get close to people even after that- but I’m here to provide the facts and theories, not the emotions, though theres a lot

but…. its a stretch(like a big stretch)… but for the sake of going all out on a limb, we can take this one step further.

In Childe’s story it references the abyss by saying “this dark realm had sensed the burning ambition in this boy’s heart” and it can be assumed that the powers granted by the abyss, as the natural opposition to Celestia(natural as in abyss magic literally opposes the magic of Celestia by nature) might just opporate in a similar way to the gnosises. Kaeya has no knowledge of gnosises though so for now lets use the word visions.

The powers of the abyss that were given to Gold would likely have been favored over visions from the gods in a godless nation like khaenri’ah afterall. and if he knew Gold, a known genius, he likely wouldnt have noticed anything off until it was too late. A sudden fall from his perspective. Visions, delusions, power from the abyss, what difference truly is there to a child raised to shun the gods. All are granted through ambition, and all will only end in suffering

afterthought:

However the main thing behind the Khaenri’ahn Royalty aspect of this angst fest- Kaeya would have been extremely young during Gold’s corruption and Khaenri’ah’s fall… like i cant help think of that one tik tok audio “that must be so confusing for a little girl” but it really does fit because now i can’t shake the imagery of Kaeya, faced with the imagery of the man who raised him dead as a result of a power he chose to use. And he finally understands what he was too young to understand back then. the world is not fascinating in a way that he is interested in it or wants to know more about it, but more interesting in the way that people’s eyes are involuntarily drawn to images of tragedy. It’s an expression of cruel irony, of truths he was forced to face, of knowledge he doesn’t want to know, but that he needs to know- if he plans on carrying through with his destiny- siding against Mondstadt. but siding with Mondstadt would cause him to turn against Khaenri’ah as Gold had all those years ago, and is that not fulfilling a cycle of fate all the same?

It’s an expression of mourning. He is chained by the legacy of Khaenri’ah and there’s nothing he can do to escape it. Either way the cycle will repeat. This fate gives him a unique power and even he will eventually succumb to it, doomed to be viewed as a corrupted betrayer no matter who he sides with, to doom yet another civilization in return. Such is his preordained role as the last hope of Khaenri’ah. The unescapableness, the way it all becomes so sure and clear and nauseatingly relevant in that very moment are what drive him to say that as he finally realizes that he cannot win.

-

of course a lot of this is a stretch and just theories, but the angst potential was there so i decided to run with it lmao

additional afterthought: this isn’t something kaeya would know, but the corruption of Durin by Gold was actually predicted by a priestess in dragonspine before Celestia destroyed it and made it like it is now.

just angsty because it reinforces the idea of a repeating cycle of foretold destiny that no matter hard hard Kaeya tries, he will never be able to escape. Really puts Mona’s “He believes he has made a clean break with his past, but one day fate will catch up with him” line into perspective.

[deathfavor]

His tilts his head backwards, staring up to the endless eternity of space in the silence that settles over them. The silence is deafening. Why had he tried to be honest? It wasn't like Michael would understand this terrible itch under his skin that nothing could scratch. How lonely the stars must be, burning alone. Was that why he was called the morningstar? Because he burned a dazzling brilliance that captured people's attention...but he was alone. Michael is the closest to him, yet he'll never know the burden placed upon Lucifer's shoulders. He calls him lazy because he doesn't know what it's like with the knowledge only God himself knows ; doesn't feel the power burning him up, too intense to stay restrained in the limits of a physical form. Only sleep or extensive use of his powers lets the energy quiet down into a manageable level again. Michael can still interact among the others, Michael can come and go as he pleases. Lucifer stares at Michael from the corner of his eye ; it's as if he can SEE the strings on obedient Michael. A puppet playing the role they were designed for without question, without curiosity. ( Why is he thinking that? Why is he upset? )

He bristles ; something slithers in the prison of his chest with a fire's bite. " You don't even know what I do. " He snaps suddenly. Lucifer doesn't snap. Michael snaps. Lucifer only offers a playful or scheming smile, unruffled regardless of what is thrown at him. " Always accusing me of not working - what do you think I do in the throne room? Sit and have tea time the whole time? " He scoffs ; there's something sharp and burning in his eyes. " Sorry. I didn't realize everyone else can have a break but me. Even you can, you just don't typically unless I make you. It might make you mad, but you finally take a break when I do things like that. You deserve them. If being mad at me is what it takes then so be it is what I told myself." He snaps, and the fire still burns. " Do you think I get to choose when I leave or come back? That I plan it to be inconvenient? I don't. And when I get to leave everyone just stares all the time but stays so far away so I feel like something on display and - " He opens his mouth only to suddenly snap it shut ; the look in his eye vanishing in an instant. " I don't know why I said that. " He whispers shakily when he stares before lowering his head. " That was out of line. I apologize. " And words mean little ; so he reaches out in the link they all share to try to offer Michael the taste of regret to prove his sincerity - tries to hide the confusion that fills him.

He turns away sharply, away from the heavens below, away from Michael, away from what he knows. " I won't tell. " He numbly replies, and does not tease or mock. He pulls his arms closer to him, fingers digging into his elbows. " I don't - " he stumbles over his words, falters and falls quiet. " My apologies for the inconvenience of interrupting your day. I think I'll just return early to the throne room. " He doesn't look at Michael; he closes his eyes tight and lifts his hands to bury them into his own hair. What was wrong with him? Was he sick? That sounded absurd,.

                                          ˚ʚ 𝓜 ɞ˚ ―  𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐃𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐋's own feathers ruffle. It wasn't entirely unusual for Lucifer to want to get away. To some extent, Michael understood what Lucifer meant by Michael feeling real to him. Lucifer was the MORNINGSTAR. He was God's most prized and treasured son ( much to Michael's dismay ) , but even Michael could not deny how he treasured Lucifer. The other angels could only ever cast their glances at him as he passed through the halls or he exited the THRONE ROOM. Some lived in both fear && awe, wishing they could so much as breathe in his presence. After all, in comparison to him, what were stars compared to the moon? 

                            None of this seemed new to Michael, yet Lucifer had felt more off than usual. He could tell something more was bothering Lucifer. It wasn't like him to pass up the opportunity to tease Michael, to get a rise out of him, && it was almost strange that Michael found himself wishing he had. He steadied himself in the air, wings keeping him afloat as he looked down. There wasn't much to see from being this high; for the moment, it felt like he && Lucifer were the only two beings in existence. The way it was when they were first created. Sometimes, he wished they were able to return to those simpler times. 

                         ❛ You are weird, Lucifer ❜ , he says finally, his gaze now facing forward. He doesn't turn to face him, almost as if he were afraid to see something riddled on his face that he wouldn't be able to fix. Change that he couldn't erase. ❛ It's because none of them know you. Believe me, if they did they'd know why I'm always mad at you. ❜ He doesn't hide the agitation in his voice; this was what felt normal, after all. The two of them bickering back and forth. The other angels saw the perceived image of quintessence. Michael saw how immaculate Lucifer was, but he saw everything else too. He was always sleeping when he needed him, skipping out on duties, taking his time to mock Michael whenever he got the chance. Getting under his skin and ruffling those pristine feathers. ❛ Perhaps this is selfish of me to say, && if you tell anyone, I'll deny it, but I don't want everyone to know you. ❜ There were some things that, knowing Lucifer, felt like a gift, and Michael didn't want to share those with anyone.